#i HAD to use her 3rd ani card i literally got two of them from the audition gacha

[draw-your-self-ship]

Dropping the layout I made for the Saki theme, in case others wanna use it for their blogs. Would normally post to my edit blog, but I'm on mobile and don't have my usual graphics on hand aaaaa

Icon = 300x300 px

Banner = 1920x1080 px

Header = 600x240 px

[ouabhs]

acftl review (finally)

I give it a 3 ⭐️ (as much as it pains me) even then it’s only this high bc I love evajacks so much

so I was finally able to gather my thoughts into one post and while there were many things I enjoyed a few others didn’t sit right..

1. the whole story curse thing.. it makes sense that the story curse would twist things which is why some things were left unexplained but it doesn’t feel like it was done deliberately?? it just felt like stephanie genuinely didn’t know how to tie some things together.. like sure not every single thing needs an explanation but she emphasised certain things wayyy too much in the first two books for them to be completely ignored for example evajacks talking to each other in their minds. Even the broken heart scar wasn’t addressed again after like halfway through acftl

2. too much apollo.. sorry this is not even just me being biased or whatever like I do agree his pov helped explain the plot from a different perspective but he got wayyy more of a backstory and a conclusion to his character than jacks for a someone that wasn’t as present in the last 2 books.. and this was supposed to be jacks’ series kinda (ik it was evangelines too) but I feel like jacks got sidelined hard and that’s disappointing. It also didn’t help that whenever there was an intense scene between evajacks the pov would switch to apollo.. to be fair I think having 3 povs was just hard to execute in general

3. the kiss scene.. usually it would not be a big deal but it’s a big part of jacks character that he can’t kiss girls without killing them idk I thought him finally getting to kiss evangeline would be a lot more… grand? they barely got a page or any detail and then the next chapter was “once upon a time there was kissing and more kissing 🥰🥰” which was even more underwhelming. Even apollo and evangelines kiss scenes were longer and more detailed and they got multiple

4. the overall vibe of the 3rd book felt very different to the first two I couldn’t put my finger on it at first but I feel like it had something to do with the writing.. at some parts it felt familiar (like all the descriptions and the fairytale aspects) but others it just felt different?

5. during too many scenes it just felt like stephanie was rewriting tbona.. like I haven’t really seen anyone say this yet but a good chunk of the book was quotes from tbona which I feel took up a lot of unnecessary space and could’ve been used to develop other plots or characters? Literally someone that hasn’t read tbona could get a gist of what happened cause it’s all summarised in there 😭

6. the plot in general.. contrary to popular belief I don’t think this was that romance focused (as people claim as to why things weren’t explained) because I think stephanie incorporated more plot in here but it was just different to what we saw in the last books because previous characters (luc, marisol, tiberius, kristof) weren’t as present in this book and new characters plots and explanations were just thrown in.. not much felt connected

7. jacks’ backstory.. (going back to my second point) how he became a fate was really glossed over I feel and was only briefly mentioned but I just wanted more.. I do like the fact that he said he did it for chaos and I wish their friendship was delved into more because he literally turned to immortality because his friend would be alone. What about his parents? His friendship with Lyric? The merrywood three in general? His life when he was trapped in the card?

8. the first fox.. again wayy too significant to be missed out especially since jacks doesn’t really remember whether or not he had a thing for her and chaos said evangeline was similar to her.. how was there no link?

I definitely have more to add but for now my main takeaway is that while tbona was very hard to top I feel like acftl could’ve been so much more especially since it was set up so well.. I think so many people are disappointed because it doesn’t hold up as well for the last book in a series but I’m just glad evajacks got their happy ending 🫠

[cloudcountry]

yuusona time!! its literally just me (i used the yuusona picrew 1 & yuusona picrew 2 HELP i cant draw)

(cyath rendition!!) (sapphy rendition!!) (dorm uniform card) (height comparison)

(school uniform) (gym clothes) (labwear) (dorm uniform) (ceremonial robes)

(halloween i) (halloween ii) (firelit sky) (culinary crucible) (new years sale) (beanfest) (tsumderland) (sledathon) (fairy gala) (ghost bride) (camp vargas) (wish upon a star) (glorious masquerade) (stitch)

Name: Auburn

Pronouns: She/They

Species: Human

Dorm: Ramshackle

Class: Class A, No. 9 (Shares a seat with Grim)

Birthday: April 3rd.

Age: 18

Height: 174 centimeters

Dominant Hand: Right.

Homeland: Unknown.

Best Subject: Alchemy

Club: Mountain Lovers -> switched to Science Club

Hobbies: Writing stories.

Pet Peeves: Leaving dirty utensils on the counter.

Talents: Untying knots.

Favorite Food: Any kind of cheesecake.

Least Favorite Food: Onions.

Unique Magic: None.

Other Funky Stuff

She didn't think she would be that good at alchemy but was very curious about it. It ended up being her best subject.

They've recently gotten into doodling their classmates and has even painted some of them, but only Grim knows this.

(Brief discussion of their anxiety disorders) Had really bad anxiety the first week of being in Twisted Wonderland that caused them to be physically ill and panicked. Managed to adjust after a while with help from Heartslabyul since they were her first real friends here.

Helps Ruggie run errands for Leona because they love to help out with anything and everything. In fact, they feel worse if they aren't helping. This caught the attention of a certain cephalopod.

They really didn't notice Azul until he (kind of) opened up to her at the museum. She realized they have a lot of things in common and got very irritated (lovingly!!) when he thought she was flattering him.

They shrugged it off though, and ultimately decided to let him judge their character as he saw fit since they're not only a terrible liar but are very animated. Then a raging crush hit. Oops.

She was a bit wary of the Leech twins at first because of what everyone said, but once she got to know them she was very open!! She's on good terms with them.

They often have to try to tell Kalim to chill out with his parties because he puts too much pressure on Jamil. He usually doesn't listen and they feel too guilt to stay for long.

They sneak Epel snacks because they cringe at the thought of spending one day in Pomfiore. it's not that they hate Vil, it's just there's no way they could keep up with him.

At first they thought they could be friends with Idia, but the second he opened his mouth they were annoyed. (Know-it-alls being their second highest pet peeve sigh.) It took a long, LONG time for those two to get along, and although they're on good terms now it freaks out Auburn's friends.

Makes an effort to invite Malleus over as often as possible and has even set aside a room for him when he wants to stay in the ruins he used to find so calming. (They actually feel a little guilty for taking away his safe space.)

They clean up Ramshackle in their spare time because they can't STAND living in a dusty, dirty environment. Grim appreciates this because he doesn't have to help, the demon.

Sam is their favorite faculty member and they always give him a high five after a shopping trip.

[junicai]

blue shell.

| summary | Things get serious in the Dreamies dorm when Mark brings over Mario Kart.

| word count | 1.3k

| warnings | not serious contemplation of murder(s) 

| era | circa. April 2018

Aria wondered how long she’d go away for if she committed a septuple homicide. 

The idea had taken root in the back of her mind several months ago, what with Chenle’s unfortunate habit of rolling while asleep and kicking her off (a) a couch, (b) a bed, and on one miraculous occasion, even a table. 

Don’t ask how he managed to get his leg up that high - not even Aria knows. All she remembers is sitting on the edge of the table, perfectly content and minding her own business, before there was a foot being unceremoniously shoved into her back, and then she was on the floor. 

The tiles are rather unforgiving, she discovered, when you face plant into them with no chance of stopping yourself from doing so, because you were pre-occupied with trying to not spill hot coffee over yourself and your companion, who had just veritably kicked her out of her sitting position moments beforehand. 

Aria ended up with a bruised cheek, for her attempts, and Chenle still wouldn’t admit that he’d done it - claiming that she must have just fallen off herself. If she didn’t know any better, Aria would claim that Chenle had done it while he was awake, just out of spite.

He has resided at the bottom of her “Rescue In Case Of Fire” list ever since. 

Donghyuck let out a great whoop of victory from his position in the middle of the living room floor, as his character - Baby Yoshi, in the tall booster seat car that he insisted didn’t give him an advantage, but Aria could swear that thing had a smaller turning circle than the rest of them - crossed the finish line, a large gold 1st coming to hang over Yoshi’s head. 

He sat back in his seat, looking altogether too smug for someone who had just cheated his way into a victory. His remote dangling from the wrist-strap that Jeno insisted they all used for the WII remotes (there was an incident, Aria knows, with one of the remotes and a now-broken vase), Donghyuck’s little half smirk had never been more infuriating to Aria. 

She had been leading the race for the better part of two laps, racing around Shy Guy Beach with a banana trailing behind Toad’s little cart in reserve. The finish line had been within her sights, and she was already beginning to settle back into the cushions, prepared to royally gloat her way through the rest of the evening before the unimaginable happened. 

Renjun, steadily clinging onto 4th place but encroaching on Jeno’s 3rd, gave a cry of excitement. There was a whooshing sound - 

And then Toad exploded in a cloud of blue. 

Spinning out of control, Aria fumbled with the buttons uselessly, knowing there was nothing she could do to salvage her position but trying fruitlessly anyway. 

She sat back, stunned and betrayed, as Donghyuck brushed past her and crossed the finish line smoothly - avoiding the loose banana peel that Toad had lost during his spin-out. The dust of the beach was kicked up by Yoshi’s booster kart wheels, and Aria found herself cursing the animators as Toad literally coughed in the cloud. 

Was there much more in the world that could humiliate her so?

Perhaps that thought in itself, had been the tipping point of Aria’s spectacular downfall.

With her mouth dropped open, she watched as Renjun and Jeno passed - neck and neck - Jisung bringing up the tail end before Toad finally got himself under control again and pushed himself off into motion again. His kart was slow - slower than she wanted it to be, but they were moving and picking up speed.

He barely made it two feet. 

A green shell crashed into the back of Aria’s cart, Toad flipping forward and stopping again, waving his hands around in protest. Mark flashed a cheeky grin at Aria from where he was perched on the edge of the coffee table in the centre of the room, zooming past Toad with Daisy snatching 5th place from beneath Aria’s nose. 

She let out an aggrieved shout, dropping her controller in her dismay. “Mark!” 

He couldn’t even have afforded her the dignity of being taken out by a red shell? No! He had to use the green ones, the ones you can actually escape if you have the speed and space to do so. 

“Sorry,” He apologized, looking distinctly un-sorry. 

Mark moved down the “Fire Save” list to just above Chenle.

With her controller on the floor, slid somewhere in between the throw pillows that had been kicked off by Chenle an hour earlier, Aria was forced to sit back and watch as Chenle chased Peach over the finish line, Bowser letting out a commiserating roar as he secured 7th place after Jaemin who took 6th with Princess Peach at the helm. 

The race ended, 7 out of 8 players having crossed the finish line and one remaining stationary - 2.3 seconds away from the finish line. 

With the sweet dulcet sounds of too-peppy Mario Kart music that was really beginning to give Aria a headache playing through the speakers; pandemonium broke out. 

“You cheat!” 

“It wasn’t me! That was hyung!” An incriminating finger was pointed at Renjun, who in turn threw a betrayed hand to his chest. “Sung! I thought we had a pact!” 

“A pact?!” Aria’s voice grew in both volume and pitch. “So it’s true!” She spun to face the others, all who had been tossing the blame back and forth, while rolling about in fits of laughter. “You’ve all been plotting against me!” 

“Never!”

“NO!”

“How could you accuse us of such a heinous crime?”

Their protests were heavily undermined by the fact that they were all holding their sides in pain from laughing too hard, and each of them wore a face-splitting grin. Aria narrowed her eyes at them all, glaring. 

“Come on, noona!” Chenle goaded, straightening up momentarily only to flop back down onto Aria, bringing her into the impromptu cuddle pile that the others were forming on the floor.

She landed with an oof, and was going to apologize before realizing that it was, in fact, landed on Donghyuck. She only felt slightly bad for the elbow that landed in his stomach, then. 

“You promised us dinner.” Donghyuck wheezed out, clutching at his ribs. 

Scrap that. Aria didn’t feel bad at all.

“Wh-”

“’Loser buys dinner.’ I believe those were your words, Riri.” Jaemin grinned at her from his horizontal position stretched out over both Mark and Jeno. 

Aria sighed a long suffering sigh, pinching the bridge off her nose. Muttering underneath her breath, she began attempting to extract her arm from Chenle’s vicious grip, before she was stopped by Renjun’s hand on her wrist.

“Or,” He began, and honestly Aria should have known better than to trust the mischievous twinkle in his eye but goddamnit she only had so much in her bank account at the moment. “We could go best out of three, and loser gets dinner tonight and tomorrow.”

Her credit score begged her to take the deal. She could feel her credit card crying out for her to accept, and to form an alliance with one of the conniving devils that she calls groupmates. 

Aria wondered, again, how long was the jail time for multiple homicides.

Not long at all, if she didn’t get caught, she supposed. 

[sin-tentional]

⸻justice smith. twenty-six. genderqueer. he/him ; they/them. homosexual & taurus                                   

looks like Todd Wilson blew in two months ago and never left. they’ve proven themselves to be daring & crafty, but being finicky & over-confident is their downfall. it’s only fitting that welcome to the party by diplo, french montana, zhavia ward & lil pump is playing when they leave the motel, where they live on the 3rd floor. rumor has it that they secretly keep in contact with his mother, who's faked her death, and isn't telling his siblings, wonder if that’s why the State Farm Insurance Agent, & Ectoplasm Arcade Maintenance Crew Member  moved out of their place in Forks, Washington.

                                                                { FULL BIO HERE // THE MUSE DOC }

i: aesthetics

the very serious question of, “can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time?” whilst very much so, procuring a hard boiled egg from the fanny pack tied to your waist;  a high pitched scream from a jump scare, “stop !!!! i coulda dropped my croissant”, and the silent treatment to follow ; relying on the luck of the draw, a shake of the dice, and the furry rabbit’s paw on your keychain to get you out of trouble ; quite literally dabbing on responsibilities ( most importantly the fish bowl filled with condoms your mother left at the front door to remind you of the mistake she’d made in the past ) while screaming abstinence only, unironically ; and the incessant, prickling feeling of having to run away when things get hard when the longcon isn’t a long con anymore. 

ii: a playlist 

❝ Welcome to the Party  ❞ Diplo, French Montana & Lil Pump ft. Zhavia Ward

❝ THATS WHAT I WANT ❞ Lil Nas X

❝LOVE❞ Kendrick Lamar ft Zicari

❝Talking to the Moon❞ Bruno Mars

❝Starboy ❞ The Weeknd ft Daft Punk

❝ Ivy❞ Frank Ocean

❝Runaway ❞ Ye ft Pusha T

❝ EARFQUAKE❞ Tyler the Creator

❝No Problems❞ Chance the Rapper ft Lil Wayne & 2 Chainz

❝Heartbeat ❞ Childish Gambino

❝ Power Trip❞ J. Cole ft Miguel

iii: a study 

⸻ NAME: Thaddeus Todd Wilson

⸻ AGE: twenty-six

⸻ GENDER: genderqueer

⸻ PRONOUNS: any, just don’t call him it or thaddeus or tadd or taddy or tadpole. 

⸻ SEXUALITY: homosexual

⸻ RELATIONSHIP: might be in a long con with Renato Luna

⸻ FACECLAIM: justice smith

⸻ HEIGHT: 5’10”

⸻ HAIR COLOR: black, dyed blonde currently

⸻ EYE COLOR: brown

⸻ MARKINGS: a scar on his forehead from liquid stitches, and a couple of marks to suggest he’s once had a broken arm

⸻ TATTOOS: none

⸻ PIERCINGS: he’s got a couple he takes out for work

⸻ DECORUM: when he’s not at work it’s T-shirts from Goodwill which he un-ironically likes, socks and sandals, he also likes his denim jacket, also whatever Gabs and Ren dress him in.  

 ⸻ SCENT: stolen samples of Kenneth Cole’s Black, Gain dryer sheets, & faint lingerings of ketchup on his fingers

⸻ POSITIVE TRAITS:  loyal, confident, daring

⸻ NEUTRAL TRAITS: deceptive, mellow, unaggressive

⸻ NEGATIVE TRAITS: finicky, hubristic, over confident

⸻ ZODIAC: taurus

⸻ ALIGNMENT:  lawful evil

⸻ MTBI: esfp

⸻ ENNEGRAM: 4 w 3, 8

⸻ TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

⸻ ELEMENT: fire

⸻ PRIMARY VICE: greed

⸻ PRIMARY VIRTUE: humility 

⸻ TROPE: Big Eater, The Trickster,, The Sleight of Hand, Desperately Craves Affection, Hurricane of Puns, Hidden Depths, Adult Child, Brilliant But Lazy, Daddy AND Mommy Issues

⸻ INSPIRATION: This guy & this guy. 

⸻ GOALS: To become an electrician and pull off the greatest long con in the world

⸻ FEARS: His mother & Imprisonment.

⸻ OCCUPATION: He tells others he works as a State Farm Insurance Agent, though he has no real experience in the field, and he hops around offices more often than he stays. He also works machine maintenance at the Ectoplasm Arcade, and other odd jobs around the town

⸻ RESIDENCE: The motel, but Ren sneaks him into the apartment shared with Gabs.

⸻ HOBBIES:  Tennis, card tricks, chess, beatboxing, dinosaur enthusiast, video games, electronics– he used to be a part of the robotics club in High School & DnD. 

⸻ HABITS: chewing with his mouth open, falling asleep during any kind of lecture, pretending not to speak english to get out of speaking to people he doesn’t want to talk to, saying yo un-ironically, and calling dibs or not it for the smallest of things– also speaking for his sister Mary.

iv: a biography 

he was always labeled as the boy triplet– something of a term he’d later in life try to rip away from his identity. there were so many things Todd Wilson wanted to become, and  being confined to the boxes of one gender would never stop him. coming into the world giggling, he’d always feel as if he’d have an inside joke. sharing that joke with two other sisters, was perhaps the biggest prank Gilbert Gladstone could ever play on the single mother, Beatrix Wilson. growing up he had two built-in best friends, a Mary and an Annabelle, both of whom he'd try his hardest to protect as the older triplet brother. his mother ingrained it in his head from the moment he could walk– his sisters were his responsibility, and he’d always face her wrath if they were ever not accounted for.

growing up with a single mom was hard, especially for a boy who wanted validation he couldn’t gain from his mother– Todd would bore Miss Wilson with questions of where his father was. in between her own little games of hide and seek the diamond ring and tag your it– it’s your turn to take the special baton, she’d dodge those questions. Todd didn’t know it at the time, but he was always an accomplice to her deceitful ways. thievery and running became a way of life, and Todd grew used to his mother’s ways, seeing it as nothing but normalcy.

he’d always wonder what his life could become if he had two parents to teach him the ways of disguise, misdirection and hacking. 

thus spawned the manhunt of the decade. it took years, and many decoys placed by their mother, but they were finally able to trace down a man who would finally make sense– in between all the random Brocks, and Joshs, and even Peters, the man in Salem with the tracker on his bracelet was the one with the biggest lead of all. Todd knew this last one would eventually break his sisters’ spirits, especially if Gilbert Gladstone wasn’t their father. but luck, as it so happened, was finally on their side. it was particularly hard to find the man, it was even harder was it stifling the questions Todd had for him– 

Todd promises to keep his distance, okay with only taking as much time as he can with the strange man, but he does idolize what little he knows of him. their bond is still growing and

Todd’s learning of his place in the world, but the secrets of his mother’s past threaten this stability.

v: connection ideas

General Ideas:

D&D Buddies - him, Ren and Bryan are known to pull Gabs into their circle of dorkiness. The more the merrier.

( STILL WORKING ON THIS BUT V OPEN TO ALL CONNECTIONS WHEEZE )

Where you can find him:

Bubble Pop Wash & Dry 

The Coffin Club

Ectoplasm Arcade 

Flying Saucer Pizza

Cryptid Cinema

Giant Food Store

Kum n Go Gas Station

Starfox Roadside Diner

Strikepin

Vulcan Video

Winter Island Drive-In

Current connections

Gilbert Gladstone - father

Jessica Claus - that weird white lady that wants to be his mom

Renato Luna - that boy cute

Gabriella Ricci - sometimes he wears her lipstick just to plant kisses on ren’s face 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dollie Alimjan - she’s a gay pal hell ya

Ellie Mercer- D & D and fellow nerd friend B)

Marlowe St Clair - Friends who dont realize they are siblings tEEHEE.

vi: tags 

;; TODD WILSON. 

;; TODD WILSON: MUSINGS.

;; TODD WILSON: CONNECTIONS.

;; TODD WILSON: STARTERS.

;; TODD WILSON: THREADS.

;; TODD & ⸻

[fukurodaze]

if i ever get lost

pairing/s: third year!haiba lev x gn!reader genre: fluff, romantic tension aka best and softest tension word count: 3.2k warnings: like, one curse word this was also requested by anon! “3rd year Lev w a reader who’s struggling to pass all their homeworks, projects and quizzes (bc they piled up their works ;;) while thinking of how should they study for college/uni entrance exams?”

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ and ellie @lcnelyinthesky​ for beta reading and helping me w this!! 

LISTEN TO: somebody loves you - jeremy zucker; glitter - benee

lowercase intended!

you throw your head back when you forget the term written on the flip side of the flash card haiba lev is holding. it’s a friday night, far past anyone’s bedtimes, but final exams for the first semester start on monday and you’re not sure where to start. haiba lev, being the person who has nothing better to do, agreed to come over and flip cards with random kanji, english, and biology terms on it.

lev might also be here because it’s an open secret that he’s liked you since first year, and you’ve never answered to his feelings, but you’re thinking friends for now - until you memorise all of this semester’s kanji, english vocabulary, and biology terms, that is.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of...”

lev gives you time to think, his wide eyes going between the answer on the card and your thinking face.

“shit, uh, the phospholipid bilayer is made up of two layers of phospholipids?”

“makes sense, but no.” lev answers, flipping the card to show you.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids...” you read aloud, trying to memorise what’s currently going out your mouth, in one ear, and out again through another ear.

“you know, your flash cards are pretty comprehensive.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that... a good thing?”

“i mean, yes and no,” he takes another sip of the tea your mom had insisted to bring to guests, “it’s harder to memorise, but it’s better for details. but-”

“but?” you watch as he takes another sip. 

“i think if you really don’t know where to go, just understand the basic concept of everything. for one - what is the function of the bilayer?”

“why do you sound smart?” you question, tilting your head jokingly.

“hey! i am smart! most times! with tests like these that have essay questions, you just gotta learn the basic concept of each term and connect them.” lev advices, recounting his former volleyball captain and nekoma high school alumni, kuroo tetsuro’s, words when lev himself was barely scraping past his first semester finals when he’d just transferred.

“easier said than done in two nights,” you slouch your head on your desk, “plus! it’s not just biology. or exams.”

if memorising all these terms in the span of two days sounds bad enough, you’re still crushed with the supplementary course work and projects due next week as well. 

you let out a deep groan. you’re so tired. it’s like biology information only comes up when you’re studying for english, biology only coming up for modern literature, and mathematics somehow being inserted into the little unknown kanji in modern literature. it’s all too much at once.

“it’s all too much at once, huh?” lev places his head on your desk, only a few inches away from your face. normally, you’d push him away, pull your head back up, or maybe even give him a light slap on a bad day, but today you welcome him. 

you nod, quiet. you haven’t been able to get a breather. it’s essay this, quiz that, lab report here, test there. your mind is blank.

now, lev sits back up on the extra chair from your dining room, “have you eaten dinner?”

“why are you asking... it’s like, midnight.”

“the question still stands.”

you sigh, “nope.”

lev hums. he takes a pen, then twirls it, like his fingers possessed polar magnets that somehow let the pens never fall from his hands. but it does eventually, and when it falls with a plastic click on your wooden desk, lev visibly takes a big breath and says, “do you want to get ramen?”

you exhale through your nose and smile. “are you asking me out, haiba?”

“is it inappropriate to ask you out now?”

damn this tall dork. come to think of it, he’s never actually asked you out despite the obvious ways he’d vouch for your attention in the past. you’re quite surprised, frankly, as he’s always been so loud in the ways he’s wanted to be with you but never really made it seem like anything was going to happen. 

but, hey, it’s late enough for you to put down your doubts about him away. after all, he’s been in your room for four hours, just helping you study. he wasn’t even studying himself - he just sat there, doing almost nothing. and for a guy like him, you wonder how he’s managed to keep there for so long.

“sure.”

lev’s eyes widen. “wait, really?”

“yeah,” you begin to set aside all your study materials, “we can go to a twenty-four hour place in the city, too.”

“alright! let me get you your coat!”

“my coat?” you raise an eyebrow when he hands you the coat you wear the most, feeling both flattered and slightly surprised that he recognises it straight away from your messy room. the boy comes to retreat his coat as well from one of the hangers in your room, and he even offers to get you your socks and boots.

“alright, alright, you don’t have to be that ready to go,” you joke. 

he makes sure there is no noise when you two walk out of your house, through the suburbs of tokyo and to the nearest train to the city. 

“aren’t you two a bit young to be here so late?” the shopkeeper, an old lady, mutters under her breath. you catch it through her croaky voice when you and lev enter the place together, but you pay no attention because all you care to focus on is the smell of broth and your empty stomach.

“for two, please,” lev says, undoubtedly hearing the woman’s remark, but answering with a smile. she smiles too, and so do you, and it makes you remember all the times he’s smiled and you’ve wanted to either punch him or hold his hand. 

today just happens to be one of those days where you want to hold his hand. you shake the thought off.

when you two are seated at the ramen bar, your head falls onto your palm, tilting back to face lev, his chin covered partly by his usual maroon scarf. you had whispered to him earlier on the train what you wanted to order, and lev quickly speaks to the waiter as your tired gaze rises from from the squiggly wooden patterns embedded in the polished wooden table to the boy that’s sitting right next to you. 

at first glance, you remember haiba lev’s face to be satisfying to look at. you remember when he had just transferred to your class in the first year, and you developed the annoying habit of looking forty-five degrees to the right every time you were bored in class, as you thought his face was much easier on the eyes than complex quadratic equations or japanese history. 

for a while you wondered if it was because he certainly looked different - not only was he practically a giant, but he had eurocentric features that stood out from the majority of the student body as well (it also didn’t help that he quite literally and figuratively filled any room he was in). though, maybe, after a while, when everyone got used to the sight of a new face, you kept your line of sight at a forty-five degree angle, just peering above his cheekbones. the same way you’re looking at him right now.

and really, the only word for it is handsome. dashing. good-looking. you’ve always known that, but now that you put it into words in your head, you notice the chiseled jaw, pointed nose and emerald green eyes feel a bit more-

“what you staring at?” his baritone voice cuts through your thoughts cleanly.

you don’t like where this conversation will go. “haiba, are you doing any college entrance exams?”

lev cocks his head to one side, thinking, before nodding, “i think i am. why?”

“how are you studying for them?”

lev clicks his tongue, and it brings you to surprise, “get your mind away from studying! we’re not here in the city at, like, one in the morning to talk about college entrance exams!”

you sigh, “okay, fine. but, still, answer my question?”

“i just do practice problems for twenty minutes every day,” lev shrugs, “okay, now, can we move away from studying?”

you hum lazily, watching as two bowls of ramen arrive at the bar. he had ordered what you told him you wanted to order, both bowls almost identical in smell, shape, size, and content. almost, because lev didn’t have any spring onions in his bowl.

“haiba,” you call, earning a quick call of your name in response, “do you not like spring onions?”

lev nods so obviously that he seems proud. his chopsticks mix the entire bowl together before picking up the half-boiled egg and eating the slice whole. when he swallows it down, he asks you, “you noticed.”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “why do you not like them? they’re like, essential.”

lev takes a slurp of his noodles, and then a spoonful of the broth, “i just never liked their texture - which is funny, since my entire family loves adding spring onions.”

now it’s your turn to slurp into your ramen, one bite turning into two, and two turning into the entire content of the bowl. lev seems to eat twice as fast, seemingly having a strategy to cooling down the hot noodles on his spoon while simultaneously folding a piece of pork charsiu in between the loops of each spoonful of noodles, making sure that the little wrap is bathed in a little bit of broth. you find yourself smiling at his act, almost like he has a system of his own when it came to eating ramen - well, he usually had a system of his own when doing just about anything.

the meal is quiet for the most part, with little mumbles of how your tea needs a refill and the ruffling sounds between sheets of tissue to wipe off the broth around your lips. it’s fulfilling, and the look on lev’s face says he’s happy too.

when you two make it out of the ramen bar, 1am feels the same as 9pm. somehow, you’re no longer the kind of sleepy you were when you were flipping through flashcards on your desk, and instead, you’re almost dreading to go home. you think it might also be the neon lights, but there’s some kind of electricity you’re not yet willing to let rest for the night.

luckily, lev doesn’t feel the need to rush. although his steps are big and his voice is loud, he takes his time when you two make the silent agreement to make the walk to the train station as long-winded as possible. his voice is lower, and softer, this time, and when he speaks to you about his friends from his old school, you convince yourself it’s the most interesting topic in the world - because it is. because it’s lev.

when he stops in his tracks, you stop too, watching him go into a small trinket shop you’ve always seen but never had the means to afford to go in. you reckon you might own something from this store, though.

“haiba, you like little trinkets?” your eyes scroll through the shelves of delicate and virtually useless items, eyes landing on a small lion cub made of clear resin with a small blob of gold floating in the middle of its clear body. you’re not usually drawn to any animal trinkets, as you’ve gotten used to decorative objects like bows or feathers or lace, but today you think about the lion cub. despite it looking severely overpriced, you take it in your hand anyway, not noticing lev’s figure coming right behind you.

“do you want that one?” you yelp in surprise when he says that, turning around to find yourself so close to him you could smell the dried raindrops on his padded coat.

“i’m pretty sure it’s overpriced. trinkets are usually overpriced anyways.”

“wait, let me check it,” you hand lev the trinket, “how much is your keychain?”

you furrow your eyebrows, “what?”

“you know, the keychain on the bag you bring to school.”

“oh,” you try to remember the time you had saved up for that keychain, “i think it was about three thousand yen? it’s overpriced. definitely.”

“well, this one’s only two thousand and five hundred. i’ll get it for you.”

“wha- lev!” you whine, “you’re going to make me feel bad- wait what’s wrong?” you see the boy freeze up in front of you, a big smile creeping onto his cheeky face.

he doesn’t reply for a bit, and you’re faced with raised cheekbones and a wide mouth. you try again, “was it something i did? or said?”

“you called me lev,” oh, you did. 

now his smile spreads from ear to ear, and it’s spreading to you. “you never call me lev.”

“huh, well.” you bite the inside of your mouth, “i guess now i do.”

it’s enough for you to let him spend over two thousand yen on a single trinket. you watch as he waits for the trinket to be wrapped neatly in pretty paper and put in a pink cardboard bag, its motif pretty enough to be its own product in the store. 

you stand by the doorframe of the store, mouth ready to open with the words ‘i’ll pay you back’. but it seems like lev had heard you from the future, and before you could do anything, he tells you, “don’t pay me back. this is my gift to you.”

“for exams?”

he grins. “you know, lev means lion in russian.”

the bell of the store rings as you two make your way out, this time really going back to the station. you answer with a ‘really?’ at his fun fact but you keep it to yourself that you’ve known ever since he first transferred and everyone had asked him about it. 

“yeah, and the thing’s a lion cub, so, it’s like you have me all the time!” 

you giggle, walking up the steps to the train platform. “you’re really something, lev.”

lev stretches his arms out, with long limbs you swear ghost your shoulder. you get that feeling again, in your hands, where you just can’t seem to understand why you want to take his hand in yours so bad, so you ask the boy if you can hold onto the bag with your trinket. lev passes it to you, and you hate how you would’ve liked for your thumb to graze over his thumb for longer. you hate it even more when he motions you onto the train, and in a blur, you take his arm, leading him to corner seats on the train. you feel your face heat up. 

ah, so that’s how it is.

now you’re conflicted. not that lev had ever made you feel uncomfortable - no, never - but you had never known how to return his obvious feelings. he would act on them, as always, and one day, as you fell asleep one day after final semester exams in the second year, leaning back into the plastic seat of a suburban tokyo metro rail (which lev thought was very dangerous), lev had muttered in the quietest and most subtle manner, ‘what do i do with my feelings?’

then, in a haze, with eyes barely open, you had moved your head from your seat to his shoulder, painting his cheeks red - dumbstruck. he thought you forgot about it the next morning, and you barely remember, so nothing happened afterwards. yet, when you think of him, you think of hues of orange peeling the sky into purple; of freshly washed school uniforms; of heads leaning on shoulders and fingers intertwined. you don’t know how to answer him.

with lev, there is chatter and laughter and blunt remarks that almost get him slapped in the face. still, there is a box, bigger than the bag your trinket is in, that contains words that you don’t think you or lev have ever said in pure daylight and wake. 

“hey, lev?”

you want to open that box.

“yeah?”

but you don’t know how to do it yet.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids.”

lev exclaims a series of ‘oooh!’s in delight. 

“was that correct?”

“um,” lev gulps, “i think so? i mean- i think so.”

but you will open it, sooner or later, and it rings in your head when you step off the train and walk into the neighbourhood. right now, nothing is different - the air is not heavier, his eyes do not sparkle like love interests do in the movies, and you do not look through a rose-coloured lens. monday is finals, and the weekend is studying. you tell yourself this.

lev stops at your doorstep, and you almost feel a sear in your chest at the thought of him leaving for the night. 

“so, good luck with next week, y/n.”

you nod, trinket bag in your hands, “you too, lev.”

you find that your arms are opening up, a small pout on your face as lev comes to wrap his arms around you, coats shuffling against each other as you hold each other at three in the morning. 

when you pull away from the hug, you start to ramble a bit, scrambling for new topics to bring up in hopes of just a few more seconds with him - that, and trying to stop yourself from your newfound want to cup this boy’s face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips. you wonder if he would be good at kissing, and you wonder how much you’ll regret having these thoughts tomorrow. 

but even conversation dies when you know it’s getting too cold, so you bid your sweet goodbyes and promise him not to overwork; he reminds you that it’s better to do short but frequent study sessions than fewer and highly intensive ones. you nod, your boots heavy on your doorstep, the hushed sound of keys in doors slowly becoming the only sound you hear as you assume lev’s left already.

until he calls your name.

your head spins fast towards the boy, watching as he makes long strides to stand at your doorway once again, scarf prodding the tip of his nose, so close to your face. he’s red.

“during exams, or tomorrow, or studying for entrance exams- if you ever get lost-” he pants, and unties his scarf from his neck.

“you’ll find me, okay?” the scarf comfortably hangs around your neck now, covering your mouth. he pats your head twice. it’s warm - literally. 

you barely get the chance to say anything before he darts out of your house with a quick goodbye. you’re left confused, flustered, and excited at once, and this time, you think you might have the words as to why. 

you like to imagine you taste sweetness, see eyes that sparkle, and feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“it might not be so bad,” you whisper, looking down at the pretty little bag containing one unnecessarily expensive item lev had bought you.

right; you have feelings for him too. 

then you make up your mind: you’ll tell him next friday. and if your finals stand between tonight and next friday, then, all the more motivation to get through them, right?

you make sure to set an alarm for seven in the morning, kanji textbooks lined up for tomorrow. 

[erin-bo-berin]

Baby Shoes

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is here! This takes place over the course of a year and is told from Spencer’s perspective and how he handles his grief. Also, just a note. I’m aware I jumped from two months to four months. At first, I was going to do like every couple of months, but then I had ideas for the upcoming months and just left it like that. So just a heads up, it’s not a typo.

TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who’s ever went through a miscarriage. I don’t know if anyone who has might stumble upon this, but if you aren’t in the right headspace to read something like this then please don’t. Even though this is a work of fiction, I know it’s a very real, hard and triggering subject for some. So if you’re in a bad headspace and find yourself not being able to read this, I understand completely.

Sit back, relax (maybe with some tissues cause this hurt to write) and enjoy all 11k words. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst)

Word Count: 11,051

Spencer woke to sounds of laughter.

He opened his eyes to see early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He figured it had to be around 7:00, maybe 7:30.

He tossed the sheets off his body, getting out of bed.

He could hear Y/N’s voice as he walked down the hall from the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He recognized another sound as the television playing, as well.

The scent of freshly cooked bacon wafted from the direction of the kitchen. He thought he smelled pancakes too.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he saw Y/N at the stove fixing breakfast, their little girl sitting at her feet on the floor, chewing on a toy of hers.

Sensing his entrance, her tiny head turned, grinning big when she spotted him. 

She was quite literally the perfect mixture of him and Y/N. She had his curls, but Y/N’s hair color. Her eye shape and color was all Spencer, but her lips and mouth came from Y/N. She had Spencer’s nose, yet Y/N’s face shape. Her smile was as bright as her father’s and her skin the shade of her mother’s. 

It seemed, in theory, to be the weirdest combination of small features from both of them, but it worked. She was the most perfect little girl.

But then again, he was a tad bit biased.

The toy fell from her fist to the floor with a clang, forgotten for the moment as she crawled in his direction.

“Da da da da,” she babbled.

Y/N turned, finally noticing Spencer’s entrance.

“Morning,” she grinned at him, “You must’ve slept well, your bed head is insane.”

He chuckled, picking his little girl up in his arms, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

“Well I guess I know where her crazy bed head comes from,” he grinned, motioning to his daughter.

“I’ll say,” Y/N shook her head, exasperated, “By the way, breakfast is almost ready.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite, keeping it out of reach of the grabby baby hands.

“Do you mind feeding her while I finish this up? She’s getting hungry.”

“Sure,” he smiled, carrying her to her high chair, sitting her in it.

She immediately started fussing. She hated being constricted. Whether it was her high chair or her carrier, she wasn’t much of a happy camper not being able to be on the move. 

“I know, baby,” he cooed, “But daddy’s got breakfast for you.”

He grabbed the plate of cut up scrambled eggs and put some on the tray of her high chair. She stopped fussing, reaching a hand for the fluffy egg. Apparently, if food was involved, she’d tolerate being in the chair.

She held out a piece of egg to Spencer and he ate it out of her hand, making her smile big. His heart was so full of love for his daughter that he didn’t think it could expand any more than it already had. But every day, his heart grew just a little bit more, his love for her ever growing for as she herself grew.

He ran a hand over her mess of curls, kissing her head.

“I love you, baby girl.”

That was when his alarm rang.

Spencer laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. This time, he was awake for real.

This time, he was waking to reality.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream he’d had. One that was always recurring, one way or another.

What hurt the most was the fact that the dream represented exactly what his life was supposed to look like.

But life, as many knew, could be unfairly cruel.

•

It had been January 3rd. 

The holiday season had officially wrapped up; everyone was still in a holiday hangover mode and probably going back to work and school.

But for Spencer, it was the best day ever.

Y/N had taken at least half a dozen pregnancy tests, unbeknownst to him, before she finally told him.

He’d about fell off the couch in alarm when he’d heard her shriek from the bathroom. In a flash, he’d rushed to the bathroom, fearing something was wrong. He paused at the doorway, where she had been about to exit, to find him.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked, clearly panicked.

His eyes quickly scanned her for any injuries, blood, anything wrong. But she was crying. And smiling. The two displays of emotion couldn’t seem to connect in his brain, his worry clouding his thinking. He was so preoccupied with making sure she was okay, that he didn’t even notice the spread of pregnancy tests that laid on their bathroom counter.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He was reaching out to her, when she spoke.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her smile growing even more impossibly wide.

Spencer was so stunned for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. It was as if it took a minute for the words to leave her mouth and reach his brain.

Her forehead creased, now concerned that he wasn’t as happy about the news as she was.

Then, it finally clicked.

“You’re pregnant?!” he exclaimed, his entire face lighting up.

He was smiling so big; his dazzling smile was showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes that sparkled with joy were also crinkling at the corners. It was one of Y/N’s favorite looks on him. It was hard not to be happy when he smiled so big.

She nodded, still a bit apprehensive at his hesitation. She showed him the test.

“I’ve taken six. All came back positive.”

Then he did something that really surprised her. Spencer quite literally hooted from joy. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as he spun her around a time or two.

Her squeals of laughter warmed his heart as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin.

They had talked in depth about having children many, many times before. They both adored kids with all of their hearts and wanted to have their own some day. In fact, it most likely wasn’t a typical day unless one or the other made some sort of mention about their future kids.

They hadn’t been actively trying though. It was more of a case for them of letting it happen when it was supposed to happen. Apparently, it was in the cards for them that it happened sooner than they even expected it to.

“So you’re not upset, are you?” she asked when he finally set her down.

She chewed at her bottom lip. Something she tended to do when she was nervous.

She was still the tiniest bit concerned after seeing his blank face for the first couple of seconds.

“No! No,” Spencer reassured her, “You just caught me so off guard that it took me a minute to realize what you’d actually said.”

She chuckled.

“I know. I actually did a double take when I took the first test. I didn’t believe it, so I obviously had to check...five more times. Guess that explains why I almost puked at the smell of the turkey at Christmas.”

Spencer smiled, his hand resting on her stomach. It would still be a while before the signs of pregnancy would start to appear, but the thought of this tiny child that they’d both created was currently growing inside of her still amazed him.

His eyes met hers, their excitement and joy mirroring one another’s. 

It was going to be the start of an amazing new year.

•

A doctor’s appointment was scheduled to confirm the pregnancy.

After blood work and the other necessities, it was confirmed that Y/N was around six weeks pregnant. Spencer was overjoyed.

A due date of August 9th was set. Then it was time for the ultrasound.

A tiny nugget appeared on the screen. It literally looked like the size of a peanut.

“It’s our little peanut,” Spencer smiled, squeezing her hand.

Thus, the nickname Peanut was born. They’d use it at least until they found out the sex of the baby. Until then, Peanut it would be.

They both gazed in awe at the ultrasound screen as the tech checked to make sure everything was on track with the pregnancy, the baby was growing well, etc. It was surreal to Spencer to see this tiny life on the screen. One that ultimately belonged to both Y/N and him.

He didn’t expect to feel such an overwhelming amount of emotions as he was currently experiencing. 

He was happy, of course. He was nervous; becoming a parent was a big deal. That along with fear melded together as one, he was going to be partially responsible for this child.

He felt awe, he felt surprise, still not able to believe this was real.

But most importantly, he felt love. His heart was so filled with it. For the baby that he would meet at the end of this summer, for Y/N, the love of his life and all she was going to experience in the coming months to give this child shelter and then eventually, life.

After the appointment and with a copy of the ultrasound in hand, they headed home. He couldn’t wait to show the team the picture. 

This baby wasn’t even a full two months old yet, but he was already so proud of his child.

“He or she will definitely have your nose. I will riot if they don’t,” Y/N chuckled, looking at the picture.

“What? Why?”

His light laugh filled the car, amused by her statement.

“Because you have the cutest nose ever and our baby better have it,” Y/N pointed out.

It was then a thought occurred to him.

“I need to make a quick stop.”

-

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had returned to the car, a bag in hand. He’d made Y/N wait in the car while he chose his item. It was going to be a surprise.

“What’d you get?” she asked, trying to reach for the bag.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “It’s just something for the baby.”

He set the bag in the backseat, on the floor behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t reach.

“Well then why can’t I see?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled.

He thought back to earlier in the store when he finally found what he had been looking for. He held one in the palm of his hand, amazed at how small they were.

They were perfect.

He paid for them and walked out with his new purchase, anxious to surprise Y/N at a later date with them.

They were a pair of baby converse shoes, in black, just like Spencer’s.

•

The entirety of the BAU were thrilled with the news. From the team to even other members who Spencer very rarely, if ever, worked with.

The ultrasound picture was passed around, Spencer beaming the entire time as they gave their congratulations, hugs, kisses and high fives.

“What do you know? The day has finally come that Dr. Spencer Reid has created offspring,” Luke Alvez joked.

“Hush,” Penelope Garcia scolded her boyfriend, “We’re all so excited for you, Spencer.”

“I knew it would happen,” Jennifer Jareau smiled, gazing at the picture, “Finally I get to be an aunt.”

David Rossi even threw a small celebration for them at his house for them with amazing, authentic Italian food and good wine—well, sparkling juice for Y/N.

There were many jokes, many smiles, many laughs and a lot of love.

Spencer was on cloud nine.

It was the best month ever.

•

January flew by.

Spencer was constantly busy with both his work and home life.

He and Y/N spent hours online looking at pictures for nursery inspiration. They looked at cribs, toys, clothes, both for little boys and little girls, dreaming of how cute Peanut would look in said outfit.

They researched names, already tossing names back and forth to get a feel of what one another liked and didn’t like.

He was relieved to know that so far, the first trimester had been pretty good to Y/N. Other than exhaustion and mild nausea, no other symptoms seemed to plague her at the moment.

Spencer could hardly wait for the weeks to pass. He was excited to watch their baby grow both inside the womb and outside.

It was another typical night getting ready for bed after a long day. Work had been long hours of paperwork on the latest case they’d just wrapped up.

As he had been doing, Spencer rubbed Y/N’s belly, talking to Peanut before settling in for the night.

“Good night Peanut,” he kissed her belly, “Get a good night’s sleep so you can grow big and strong and finally show everyone you’re in there.”

She chuckled, knowing good and well that Spencer was anxious for the pregnancy bump to finally appear.

He kissed her, told her goodnight and wished her sweet dreams before falling asleep at just about the same time his head hit the pillow.

February 3rd had been just another normal day.

-

Spencer was shook awake and his eyes shot open, his first thought being that he’d overslept and was going to be late for work.

He sat up, noticing that instead of the morning light filling the room, there was only a small glow from the bedside lamp lighting the room. It was still dark outside.

“Spencer.”

Something in Y/N’s tone made his stomach clench in dread. Her voice was choked and slightly shaky.

He turned her way, as she pushed the covers back, his eyes landing on the alarming pool of red staining the bedsheet.

“I won’t stop bleeding,” her voice cracked.

The next hour was filled with a flurry of activity. Him rushing her to the hospital, the nerve wracking time spent waiting on the doctor, the tests, the blood. All the blood.

It was like crimson laughter in their faces.

The doctor’s words were the nail in the coffin.

“You’ve miscarried, I’m so sorry.”

They were separated for a short while during the necessary procedure, due to her heavy, incessant bleeding. She had only been ten weeks.

It was February 4th. The day they lost their baby.

•

One Day

The ride home was awkward and silent. No words could be said. They didn’t even know what to say.

She was traumatized, he could tell by the haunted look in her tearful eyes.

She’d had to have a D&C, known as a Dilation & Curettage, for medical reasons. The doctor was too concerned about the amount of blood she was losing to let her go home and miscarry naturally.

He obviously hadn’t been through the procedure himself, but he knew it had to be traumatizing to think of a foreign object having to scrape out the remnants of the failed pregnancy.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but cruelly compare this ride home to the one just a month prior. He felt hollow, like he was stripped of all his emotions. He couldn’t even cry.

He’d never known such a deep pain.

Where does one go from that?

•

One Month

He tried his best to comfort Y/N, but nothing ever seemed to work.

He’d tried to hold her while she cried, but she didn’t want to be touched.

He’d tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to talk.

He’d tried finding a therapist for her to see, but she didn’t want to go.

The subject of the miscarriage was taboo. They never spoke of it. It felt as if it had been erased from their lives all together, like the remnants of chalk on a chalkboard. 

His teammates were as devastated as he was, as if it was their own child they’d lost. 

When he told them, there was no need for words. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of apologies, a lot of if you need anything, let me know.

No one said it would be okay. He hadn’t even said it to Y/N because it wasn’t okay. They’d lost their child. A baby that never had a chance to grow, never had a chance to meet the outside world, one they would never get to meet.

It had been a month and he hadn’t cried.

He figured Y/N had done enough crying for the both of them. 

He felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. She was the one that had to go through the traumatic procedure, the one that had to discover the puddle of blood in the middle of the night. She was the one who blamed herself and her body for not being able to keep the baby alive.

He had no right to cry.

Sometimes, he heard her crying into her pillow at night when she thought he was asleep. He desperately wanted to hold her. He wanted to make everything okay. But he didn’t know if that was even possible.

-

It was one morning while he was getting ready for work when he found them.

He had just picked out his suit for the day from the closet when a bag tumbled and fell at his feet. He bent to pick it up, not realizing just yet what it was.

He peered inside, curiously, to see what it was before putting it back where it had fallen from.

His heart dropped when he spotted the pair of spotless, brand new baby Converse. He’d forgotten he’d hid it in the closet where Y/N wouldn’t find them, to surprise her later.

They had been forgotten amidst the chaos of the last several weeks.

He balled up the bag, stuffing it at the back of the closet where he didn’t have to see them again before shutting the door to both the closet and his heart.

•

Two Months

Spencer was thoroughly grateful for the recent heavy workload. Not that people being murdered was a good thing.

At least serial killers kept his mind busy.

“Spence, if you need some time off…” Emily Prentiss, friend, teammate and BAU Unit Chief offered hesitantly.

“Emily, I’m fine okay? Have I been doing a bad job lately?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. You’ve been doing excellent work,” Emily answered, truthfully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

She flinched just the tiniest bit at his sharper than normal tone. Most people would’ve missed it, but his trained, profiler eyes caught it.

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve been working a lot lately, staying late.”

He shrugged.

“Just staying on top of my work.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? You know, ever since…” she trailed off, hesitant to even mention the miscarriage.

That was something that was similar to how things at home were. No one mentioned the miscarriage and not out of respect, but more out of fear or the fact they just didn’t know what to say. He could see it in all their eyes though, always wondering.

He just wished they weren’t so worried about him. They could talk about it. He wouldn’t spontaneously lose it.

But at the same time, he was grateful they didn’t bring it up. Sometimes he was afraid that if the topic was broached that he would either break down or do the opposite and throw something.

Either way, work was ideal for keeping his mind focused.

“I’m okay.”

She seemed to believe him because she just nodded and left to head to her office without another word.

Work was about the only stable thing in his life right now.

He had gotten to where he dreaded going home because he couldn’t stand hearing Y/N cry. He never knew what to say.

Even when he’d tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

How could he help her when she didn’t want to be helped?

Working late made it a bit easier to go home. He didn’t have to face her heartbreak. 

She was usually asleep by the time he crawled into bed, something he silently was thankful for, even if it did make him feel like a shitty person.

She had just recently gotten her first period since losing the baby. That was as close as they had gotten to actually talking about it.

Apparently, this period was the worst she’d had. She’d curled up in bed with bad cramps and had hardly left it for the last few days.

He hoped it was only because of her period.

•

Four Months

People said some of the most disheartening things.

It was apparent that sometimes, people just didn’t know what to say in a situation. In fact, sometimes it was appropriate to say nothing at all.

A variety of Y/N’s family members told her things like:

Well at least you can try for another one.

You’re young, you’ll have plenty of kids.

What’s to stop you from trying again?

Well at least it wasn’t a planned pregnancy.

Even strangers, when informed of the situation, had said things along the lines of you’ll have another baby.

That was the worst thing to say to anyone who had been in this same scenario. There was no way of knowing if any of that was true.

No one would say that to people who had lost a baby after it was born, so why say it to anyone who had lost an unborn baby?

The insensitive words were like a hammer to glass to Y/N’s mental health. Spencer could see her shrinking more into herself as the days passed.

She never said it, but he knew she blamed herself.

He also knew she had to talk about it, to heal.

“Y/N. We really need to talk about it,” Spencer told her, one day.

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word to her. He was almost afraid of what it would do to her.

“I told you Spencer, I don’t want to.”

“I understand that. But you need to talk about it. You need to get it out of your head.”

She shrugged, not seeming to care. He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t help if she resisted, but he was willing to push a bit too.

“What if we went to a sort of group therapy? You don’t have to talk, just listen to other people’s stories.”

“No.”

“Please,” he almost begged.

He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted to do was to help her.

It was also a distraction from the turmoil that seemed to roll in him like a rebellious ocean wave, getting stronger by the day. But he had to remain strong, he needed to be her support.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to talk to someone, but she actually agreed.

With a quick online search, he found a support group that met every Saturday at 10 a.m. They were going to join the next one.

-

“I was eight weeks,” a woman with auburn hair, named Lily said.

“I found out I was pregnant when I was only a month along, so pretty early on,” she laughed half heartedly.

Spencer sat next to Y/N, holding her hand. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get her here this morning. Maybe because all the fight had left her, maybe she was ready to heal. Whatever it was, he was glad they were here.

The support group was rather casual. Just a dozen or so metal folding chairs placed in a circle. Anyone was welcome to share their story. You could just sit and listen. So far, all they’d done was listen. This was the second story they’d heard.

“I started cramping about ten hours before everything started. I didn’t think of much of it since I knew some cramping is normal in pregnancy. I had to be up early for work, so I went to bed early, hoping a good night’s sleep would help.”

Spencer could feel the tight squeeze of Y/N’s grip. He knew this was hard for her. It was for him, too.

“I woke up two hours before I had to be at work. I was bleeding a lot,” Lily’s voice cracked as she tried not to cry.

“I went to use the bathroom before going back to sleep and that’s when I noticed a gray clump.”

A few of the others reached over squeezing Lily’s arms or rubbing her back, giving her encouragement to continue.

“I was shaking and crying when I went to wake my husband. We went to the ER and they later confirmed that I had miscarried.”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she’d been holding in her hands.

“That was last year. Sometimes it still hurts as much as it did in that moment. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Me and my husband have been trying to conceive again, but haven’t had any luck. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I feel so guilty for wanting to be pregnant again even though I lost a child.”

A chair scraped back against the linoleum floor. It took a moment for Spencer to realize it was Y/N’s.

She stood, running out of the room before he could call after her.

The rest of the group eyed him sympathetically and he mumbled an apology and excused himself.

He found her outside by the car, sobbing her heart out.

“Y/N,” he tried to touch her arm.

She jerked away from his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

He stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

“How could you drag me to something like this?!”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help.”

“You really think it helps to hear women talk about something that was one of the worst days of my life?” she cried, “It didn’t help! It just made me want to forget about it more!”

“Y/N, please,” he said, trying once again to pull her towards him.

“No. I hate you! I hate you for making me come here!”

With that, she spun on her heel, jerking the car door open and getting in, slamming it behind her.

He stood, staring at the place she had just been standing. He wanted to jerk the car door open himself. He wanted to yell too.

He wanted to yell that he’d lost a baby too.

But he didn’t. He simply got in the car quietly and drove home.

•

Five Months

The dreams started in the summer.

Usually it would be some sort of dream where Spencer would wake up to Y/N and their child. It usually differed if it was a boy or a girl.

One dream he’d had recently, he’d taken his little boy to the playground. He watched the toddler play in the sandbox, go down the slide, proud of doing it by himself for the first time. Then he swung on one of the bright yellow swings. He even teeter-tottered in Spencer’s lap. Spencer was too afraid to let the little boy be on it by himself just yet.

It had felt so real, being there on that cool fall day watching his child play, oblivious to everything in the world but his gleeful joy of having the entire playground to himself.

The dreams bothered Spencer more than he cared to admit. Yet, he told no one about them. Not even Y/N.

Things were tense with them, more so than ever. After her outburst because of the support group, they never went back. They also spoke less. 

They hadn’t even been intimate since the ordeal.

Not that he had expected to, but this was different than just the normal grieving. He could feel cracks starting to appear in their relationship. It felt like cracks were starting to appear in the concrete protective layer around his heart, that shielded off his emotions.

It was like living with a stranger, sharing a bed with a stranger.

Sometimes he wondered who was worse off, Y/N or himself.

•

Six Months 

August was the hardest month yet.

If Y/N had still been pregnant, she would’ve been having the baby soon, if she hadn’t already.

He often wondered what the baby would have looked like. If he or she would’ve looked more like Y/N or more like him. Would it have been stubborn like Y/N? Smart like him? Outgoing like her? Shy like him? What would have been the baby’s favorite toy? Would it have crawled early? Maybe start walking before they were a year old?

The thoughts of a future that they weren’t able to have with this baby were the most toxic thing to his mentality. It was like the “what ifs”; once you started thinking about them, you couldn’t stop.

JJ was the only one to mention it at work that day. 

They’d only gotten back the night before from a case in California. 

Lately, time away from each other was the best thing for him and Y/N. Gone was the playful, loving relationship they’d had.

In its place was a cold, frigid, fragile relationship. 

Spencer was at a loss of what to do anymore. All they did was bicker. That was something they’d never done much of before.

Sure, they’d had arguments, a few bad ones here and there, but these were much worse. 

There was a mountain of unsaid words between them that had been steadily built over the last half year. He knew it was as much as his fault as it was hers, but at one point he actually thought it would soon resolve itself.

He never expected it to get to this point.

“How are you?” JJ asked, leaning against the edge of his desk.

By this point he was torn between being tired of being asked how he was and actually wanting to be asked how he was. Besides his best friends and teammates, no one had asked how he was. Not even Y/N.

He gave a little shrug, which of course she saw right through.

“Today was her due date, wasn’t it?”

He had to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. She had had a miscarriage herself. In fact, hers was in a horrible way as well. She lost her baby after being injured in an explosion. If anyone, JJ would understand that sort of pain.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“How are you, really?” she asked.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“Is Y/N not any better?” 

JJ had been the only one he’d confided in about his current relationship problems. Even though she didn’t know what to say, she listened.

“No. Things are awful.”

He’d been resorting to sleeping in an interview room every now and then. JJ caught him once and only then did she realize just how badly things had gotten.

“She still doesn’t want to talk about it?” she frowned.

Spencer shook his head.

“Maybe she’s only following your lead, Spence,” she pointed out gently.

His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t grieved properly yourself, have you?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. But JJ had known him for over 15 years. She didn’t have to hear the answer to know what it was.

“I know you hold your emotions close to you, so tightly in fact that you don’t show them at all. You busy yourself with helping others, burying yourself in work, doing anything but processing your emotions. You know as well as I do that that isn’t healthy.”

He remained quiet, staring at his desk. He really didn’t feel like being lectured right now.

“She’s just doing the exact same thing in her own way. Instead of not showing her emotions, she refuses to talk about it, which she thinks would help her heal and move on. Just like facing your grief would help you heal.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he listened.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Her tone was firm. The tone of a concerned friend.

He looked up at her. He was almost positive the pain shone in his eyes.

“A miscarriage is a strange thing. You’re grieving the loss of a person who you never even met. You’re grieving for the person that baby never got to become, for the moments and memories you’d never get. It’s a hard thing to process and it’s hard on both the mother and the father. You may not have gone through the physical aspects that Y/N did, but you were still there. It was your baby that you lost too.”

This much he knew. It was the thought that was constantly in the back of his head, desperately trying to trigger all the emotions he’d been repressing.

“You both need to heal, Spence,” she said softly, “Because it’s much harder to fix a broken relationship when both people are just as broken.”

With that, she left him with his thoughts.

-

If he thought the day would get any better, it didn’t.

Y/N wasn’t home when he came home that night. It was after 10 p.m. when she finally stumbled in, drunk.

“Where were you?” 

Spencer had been worried. If it weren’t for the fact that all her clothes and belongings were still in the house, he would’ve thought that she’d left him. Even after that irrational thought, he was worried for her well being.

“Like you care,” she mumbled, stumbling as she kicked her heels off.

“If you checked your phone, you would see I called and text you dozens of times asking where you were!” he said, exasperated.

“I went out for a drink,” was all the explanation she gave.

“Clearly you had more than one,” he mumbled.

“I’m an adult, I can,” she huffed, “Besides it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He winced at her remark. It cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wow, aren’t you a smart one?” 

The sarcasm dropped from her tongue like honey.

“Go get changed. I’m gonna make you some coffee so you can sober up.”

He rubbed his forehead, already tired of this argument. It wasn’t even a bad one at that. It just showed how drained he’d become lately, mentally and emotionally.

“I don’t need your help,” she mumbled, heading down the hallway to the bedroom, “I’m going to bed.”

She may not have needed his help, but he was there with her all night as she vomited in the toilet almost every hour. He held her hair back and rubbed her back.

Her drunken tears, he knew, were a true reflection of her sober emotional state.

When it seemed like she would be able to keep something down, he fetched her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen to fend off the hangover she was sure to have in the morning.

The day had finally ended, finally becoming a day in the past.

As he finally laid down to sleep that night, he felt like another piece of him had crumbled away. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself there was to break.

He slept on the couch that night. It was the first of many nights there.

•

Seven Months

Spencer found himself paying more and more attention to children around him.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He so desperately wanted to be a father. 

He wanted to hear the sweet baby gurgles and baby talk. He wanted to hear them say dada for the first time. He wanted to see them begin to crawl, learn to walk, turn from baby to toddler, from toddler to child.

He wanted to hear the patter of feet and the peals of happy laughter as they played. He wanted to be greeted by his kids running for him when he walked in the door from work. He wanted to read them bedtime stories and take them for ice cream.

He wanted to play with them and cuddle them and hear them say I love you daddy.

Most of all, he wanted that with Y/N.

As hard as things had become, he still couldn’t picture himself loving anyone like he loved her. 

Cases with children were getting tougher for him to shut out after they had solved it. It was hard to see parents with their children. 

He was angry at the world. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been good enough to be a father already.

What if it was because he wasn’t home enough? Or because his job was too dangerous?

The baby would’ve been roughly a month old now. It would’ve lost some of its birth weight to gain it back again, its features would be steadily changing every day, looking a little bit different than it had the day before.

It would probably start smiling a little bit by now, even be aware of the sights and sounds around it.

If only things had been different.

•

Eight Months

Life had slowly begun to fall apart around him.

If Spencer thought he’d felt numb before, then this was what that had been, but ten times worse.

He went through the motions of life on autopilot.

Work.

Home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He shut out his friends, not bothering to return calls. Lying about how he was, how things were, just to appease them.

After an almost fatal mistake on his part on a current case, Emily told him to take some time off.

It wasn’t a suggestion either.

It had been months since things were amicable with Y/N. Sometimes it felt like the way their relationship previously was had been in another lifetime.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d said I love you to each other.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her or held her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal.

Alone at home for an unknown amount of time, Spencer was forced to acknowledge something.

He was broken.

•

Nine Months 

Things seemed to have made a bit of improvement. The time away from work surprisingly seemed to help a bit.

Y/N seemed to be in a better headspace than she had been. Maybe not completely great, but they were speaking again.

It was tentative at first. It was something as simple as asking if he needed anything at the grocery store.

“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.

“Well I was thinking of making chicken cacciatore for dinner tonight,” she said softly.

That caught his attention. It was one of his favorite dishes of hers.

Whether it was a peace offering or an olive branch of sorts, he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck and accept it.

“That sounds good.”

He offered a small smile, one which she returned.

That night, they ate dinner in the same room together, actually at the kitchen table. They weren’t hiding away in different rooms, passing one another like ghosts, but were actually enjoying each other’s company again.

No serious stuff was discussed. 

They talked about how his work was going and how her part time job as a secretary was going—she’d gotten a part time job shortly before the incident, not because of money, but something to do. He hadn’t been the only one diving into work a lot more in the past months. Most of the time when she hadn’t been home, she had been at work, volunteering to take on extra hours.

It was kind of sad when Spencer thought about it. How they both volunteered to do extra work just so they could avoid each other and the elephant in the room.

They talked about the new season of a show they’d begun watching ages ago, how they needed to watch it. Whether they actually would or not was yet to be seen.

At the end of the day, it was a step in the right direction for them. Maybe things would get better after all.

•

Ten Months 

Spencer should’ve known better than anyone as a profiler that when you ignore trauma, you ignore pain, it will only manifest itself. Sometimes the smallest thing can trigger it and when, not if, it’s triggered, it’s like a dam breaking.

That was what happened approximately ten months post incident.

He was a pro at focusing his attention on anything other than things that desperately needed to be dealt with. 

That was how he found himself searching for the wrapping paper, offering to wrap some presents for her family.

It was now December, the year almost ready to end. In a way, he was relieved to leave this year in the soon to be past.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it had been the worst year of his life.

Rustling through the junk of clothes and other things in the bedroom closet, he had no luck finding any wrapping paper.

What he did find was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

He stared at it for a few beats before deciding to pick it up and look at it. With unsteady hands, he reached for the crinkled and slightly dusty shopping bag.

Reaching in, he pulled out the baby shoes, resting them both in the palm of his hand. 

They still looked as brand new as the day he bought them. Pristine, black and tiny as ever.

That was when the dam broke as did the wall around his heart.

In the ten months following, he hadn’t shed a single tear, first believing he had no right to. Then later on ignoring his pain before his anger set in to turn into complete numbness.

But now, the tears came.

He sank down on the bed, clutching the shoes in his hands, holding them tight against his chest. Sobs wracked his body, the pain unraveling in him layer by layer.

He had never felt such deep pain. He now understood why people said the loss of a child was one of the hardest things, if not hardest thing they ever dealt with. 

He cried for the little boy or girl he wished every day that he’d been able to meet.

He’d cried for the baby that would never wear the shoes that he bought and held now.

He cried for the unfairness of the situation.

He cried for the shambles of his relationship, fearful that he might not be able to fix it.

He cried because he’d held on to his pain for far too long.

He cried because he was afraid he’d never feel whole again.

•

Eleven Months

His breakdown before Christmas hadn’t fixed everything, but it had made him feel a bit better.

He no longer held onto the initial searing pain that should’ve been released long ago and it was like a weight off his shoulders.

He still hurt, he still grieved, he still needed to talk about it, but at least he was headed on the right path toward healing.

Spencer had decided what he had to do before Christmas, but decided to wait until after the holidays to act on it.

Christmas had been low key, just the two of them staying at home and exchanging gifts. 

He got her some perfume, a novel she’d been wanting to read and a gift card to her favorite store.

She’d given him a Doctor Who figurine he’d been searching for forever, a beautiful edition of War and Peace he’d lusted over ages ago and a new watch.

It was amazing how even though they’d spent most of the year so far apart, they still knew each other well, as if nothing had happened.

It was still a bittersweet day though. He could imagine how different life would have looked if they’d had their little four month old child here with them to celebrate.

He saw the pain in her face, but said nothing.

He knew how she felt.

-

It was New Years Eve when Y/N found Spencer sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before the sun was even up.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” she sounded uncertain.

He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed.

“We need to stop doing this,” he said.

“Doing what?”

“This,” he motioned between the two of them, “Ignoring everything. Acting like it didn’t happen. We need to talk about the miscarriage.”

He didn’t miss her flinch.

“I can’t. You know that,” she said.

“You need to,” he stressed, “I need to, Y/N.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I can’t and I won’t.”

“Dammit, Y/N!” 

His palm slapped the table hard enough to rattle his coffee cup and make her jump.

It wasn’t often that he lost his temper, usually when he did, it was for a good reason. But when he was angry, he was angry.

“You’re not the only one who lost a baby!” he hollered, “Do you honestly think this hasn’t been hard for me too?! This last year has been shit for me as well! I almost lost my job because I made such an obvious mistake that I could’ve died as a result of my mind being in such a bad place! You’ve hardly spoken to me other than to fight with me for a majority of this year! How do you think that makes me feel?! I tried my best to help but you didn’t want it. I tried everything I could to fix you, but it just made things worse! I’ve been through hell too, Y/N, I hurt too! I wish every single day that we didn’t lose our baby. So I’m fucking sorry if I finally am tired of hurting and want to get better by simply talking about it!”

He was breathing hard by the time he’d finished his rant, his chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid breaths.

Y/N was frozen and staring at him. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, mad, stunned or what.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he apologized, in a more normal tone, “But I really think we need to talk about it. This has changed us, Y/N. Surely, you can see that.”

She was still silent.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“I...I didn’t realize. I mean I knew you were upset but I didn’t even know it was so bad, I…” she trailed off, looking like a lost puppy, before looking back at him, “I want to fix this. I do. But I don’t think I can talk about it.”

He sighed, all the fight completely drained from him. He was so, so tired. 

“Then I think I have to leave,” he stated matter of factly.

“Leave?!” she startled, “What do you mean? Not for good, right? Spencer, please, don’t.”

“I don’t know if it’s for good,” he said warily, “All I know is I just have to leave for a while.”

It was the hardest thing he had to do, but he knew he needed to. It was for the best in the long run. He needed time to mend and so did she.

He stood from the table, setting his empty mug in the sink.

“I’m going to be staying with Luke and Penelope for a while if you need me,” Spencer said.

He walked toward the door where his already packed bag sat. He noticed her eyes fall on it, taking in just how serious he was about this.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving a tearful Y/N still at their kitchen table.

It was time to heal.

After all, you can’t fix a broken relationship when you’re as broken as it.

•

Eleven Months

“Hi Spencer, it’s me. Y/N…” 

There was a pause in the voicemail message.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know voicemail isn’t exactly the place to be apologizing, but I had to say it first before I say everything else and I won’t stop apologizing anyway. But, um, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I wanted to talk to you. Well more like I need to talk to you. If you have time that is. I miss you.”

There was another, shorter pause.

“I love you.”

Spencer’s lips curled just the slightest, hearing the three words he hadn’t heard in so long. 

“Bye.”

The voicemail ended, but he held the phone to his ear for a little longer before he pulled it away and pocketed it.

It had been three weeks since he’d left. 

He tried not to be disheartened when several days had gone by without any contact from her, then a week, then two.

Penelope had assured him that she needed time to fix herself too, just like he had been working on.

He still had a long way to go, but he was making improvements.

He had profusely apologized to his friends for shutting them out for so long. He dove into his work with new determination, not just to distract him, but because it’s what he enjoyed doing. 

He even talked briefly to Luke and Penelope about the whole ordeal, even including the part of his breakdown before Christmas and the shoes.

Suddenly, the world started to look less bleak. 

Then today he was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Y/N. He had missed her too, so much.

He missed how they used to be, too.

He tried hard not to, but he found himself hoping against hope that maybe, possibly, things could eventually be okay.

-

Spencer paused before opening the door of their house. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had no idea what to expect.

He walked in, almost anticipating Y/N to be sitting there, waiting for him. It was odd how much of a stranger he felt in his own home. In fact, he had to stop himself from knocking just a moment ago.

Y/N was nowhere in sight. He walked into the living room, not sure if he should go looking for her, or what. He’d never felt at such a loss.

“Spence, hi.”

He turned at her voice, noticing her just approaching the doorway to the living room from the hallway. 

She looked good. The best she’d looked in months. She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair down and brushed, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey.”

His heart had fluttered at the sight of her. He loved her so much; that he couldn’t deny.

“You, uh, wanted to talk?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded, indicating for him to sit on the couch.

It was only then that he saw the tiny converse sitting on the coffee table. He couldn’t explain his reaction to seeing them, other than a sense of grief.

“Where did you find those?” he asked.

“Under the bed. I stumbled upon them when I was changing the sheets.”

He faintly remembered the last time he’d seen them, stashing them under the bed after his sobs had subsided. He wasn’t necessarily hiding them, he felt more like keeping them close by. He had forgotten about that.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at the shoes before looking up at Y/N, tears glistening in his eyes.

“That was your surprise for me and the baby, wasn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You remember that?”

He didn’t know if the choke of emotion he felt in his chest came from the fact she remembered that or that she’d actually mentioned the baby.

“I couldn’t forget it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Spencer? I’m ready to talk about it.”

He looked up from his lap where his gaze had fallen moments earlier, trying to conceal his emotions.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“You were right. I needed to do this a long time ago, but I’m ready now. I just don’t know where to start.”

She smiled sadly, fidgeting with the couch pillow that she’d rested in her lap, as if it were her life vest to survive this conversation. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, “I’ll be right here the entire time. Just start at the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her hand shifting into his, interlocking their fingers together before she began.

“I started cramping that day,” she said hesitantly, “Probably around the time you got up to get ready for work.”

“You never told me that,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded, “At first it was because I didn’t think it was serious, I mean some cramping is normal in a healthy pregnancy. I thought that’s what it was. Then after everything happened...well you know, everything got so complicated.”

Spencer nodded, staying quiet. He squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was listening.

“Anyway, I laid down after you left. I didn’t have work that day, so I thought maybe resting would help it. When I woke, they’d eased off enough to be just a mild nuisance. I mean, I’ve had period cramps that were worse.”

His heart broke listening to her recount what was the worst day of her life. He knew it had to be so tough for her to finally do this and he was so proud that she was finally getting it all out.

“The day passed like that. The cramps got worse by bedtime, so I thought I’d just use the heating pad for a little bit before going to sleep. I had started spotting then. Again, I wasn’t alarmed. That’s another symptom of early pregnancy, sometimes you spot a little. I went to sleep.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself to talk about the next part.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here,” Spencer whispered, his thumb running along her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I can’t remember what woke me up exactly,” Y/N continued, her voice beginning to wobble, “I’m not sure if it was the cramps or the sense of dread because somehow, I felt both. I noticed my legs and the bed sheets felt a bit wet and I turned on the light. I caught a glance at the clock around that time. It was 1:27 a.m. That’s when I saw the blood.”

Tears formed in his eyes. Tears already were falling from her eyes.

“I was so scared, Spencer,” she said in a scratchy whisper, “I think deep down I knew it was happening, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was only when the doctor at the hospital confirmed it that it finally sank in.”

His tears were falling now as well. He remembered that fateful trip to the hospital all too well. His world felt like it had turned upside down.

It was then he realized that his unhealthy grieving process had begun, right there in that hospital room.

“Then I had to have the D&C. I know I was anesthetized, but still just knowing that I had to have this foreign object being shoved up me to scrape out any remnants of this baby that I failed to keep alive.”

She was bawling now. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with her sobs. Spencer pulled her towards him out of habit, regardless that they hadn’t embraced like this for so long. It was just so normal of him to do it, that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

He held her close as she cried into his chest. Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears completely soaking it. He didn’t even care that it was one of his nicer work shirts, he just hugged her tighter, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” he murmured, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, kissing her head, “It was never your fault.”

She sat back, disconnecting their embrace and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

“I know that now. But it’s my fault for pushing you away. I isolated you, didn’t consider your feelings, wasn’t there for you. I’m the one who ruined our relationship.”

Even though she’d attempted to wipe her eyes, it had been a useless gesture. More tears fell again as she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault too,” he said, putting his hands on her face, thumbs wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t try hard enough. I tried to fix you when I couldn’t even fix myself. I’m just as much to blame for our problems and I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

She leaned her face into one of his hands.

“I talked to you. Please talk to me. I wanna know how you’re feeling. I care about how you’re feeling too, even though my actions haven’t conveyed that lately.”

He smiled a bit, dropping his hands from her face and beginning to fidget. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable in front of someone, especially Y/N.

“Spence?”

He looked up at her. He could see the understanding in her eyes. She understood the turmoil roiling in him. She was silently telling him that he could lay his heart out for her.

So that’s what he did.

“It felt like the entire world collapsed around me,” he mumbled.

 “I was so excited to be a dad. Obviously,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “I had the idea of buying the matching shoes for the baby. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I love them,” she smiled at him, “I love that you did that.”

“I thought for the first couple of months that I had no right to grieve. You were the one who actually experienced it, so I tried to be strong,” he sighed, resignedly.

“Spencer you-”

He shook his head, cutting her off.

“Please, just let me finish or I won’t be able to get this out.”

She nodded, understandingly. 

“That’s when I started blocking it out. I tried helping you, I buried myself in work just trying to forget. To avoid what I was feeling. I started having dreams during the summer.”

He saw the quizzical look on her face, not sure if she should ask aloud what he meant in fear that if she interrupted, he wouldn’t finish.

“I had these dreams where usually it was me and you with our baby. Sometimes it was a boy, sometimes it was a girl. It was always different scenarios, but like average activities, just with a child. You making breakfast while I fed our daughter, me taking our son to the park. It differed from dream to dream how old the child was, but it was all the same kinds of dreams.”

“Around that time anger sat in. After the failed support group visit I was more and more tempted to yell at you that I lost a baby too.”

Involuntarily, his lower lip began to tremble. He felt horrible admitting to that.

“I wish you had. I deserved to be yelled at. I deserved you being angry at me,” she winced.

“No, you didn’t. I feel bad for even admitting that I constantly wanted to yell at you. You were hurting too, Y/N. But it wasn’t just you that I was mad at. I was mad at the world. I was mad at the people who were lucky enough to be parents. It got harder and harder to deal with cases that involved kids or talk to people during cases that had kids. Some people I saw shouldn’t have had kids, they weren’t fit to be parents. I found myself wondering why they were given the gift of new little lives, yet we weren’t.”

He took a deep breath, feeling winded after his sudden ramble.

“I pushed away people too. I pushed you away because I stopped trying to help. I figured I wasn’t going to help anyway. I pushed away JJ, Luke, Garcia, the entire team. All they wanted to do was to help me and I didn’t want to be helped.”

She gave a small half grin, the corner of her mouth quirky slightly, not really a happy smile, more of a melancholy one. 

“I guess we had that in common.”

Spencer realized just how much grief they could’ve saved each other if they’d both had been willing to help themselves first. But the past was the past and he wanted things to be different from here on out.

“I found the shoes before Christmas. I had hidden them after stumbling upon them not long after the miscarriage. I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want to think about them. It was too painful. But I found them again and it’s like the grief just finally broke free of the wall I had built around it, in hopes it would go away. I think I cried for more than thirty minutes, just clutching them. After that, things felt a bit easier. Obviously everything wasn’t perfect, but I needed to finally grieve. I hadn’t cried once in all those months up until that day.”

It was her turn to hug him tightly. Spencer held on to her like she was his lifeline, which in a way, she was.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I will never be able to apologize enough,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why it happened, but it happened for a reason,” she said in a gentle tone, “But I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want us to be broken. I’ve done an awful job of showing it, but I love you more than words can describe, Spencer Reid. I don’t want to live life without you by my side.”

It was probably the hundredth time they’d both cried during this conversation, but Spencer supposed it was expected.

He pulled away, looking down at her. The sincerity rang true in her eyes.

He leaned down, his lips like a wisp of a feather as they brushed against hers. He kissed her again, more firmly this time, but still relatively gentle. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose as they seemed to run together.

When they parted, he gave a small laugh amazed at how much lighter he finally felt, at how long it’d been since they’d actually kissed, since they’d actually talked. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they would be okay.

They were both a sniffling mess with tear stained faces along with red rimmed eyes, but they were actually smiling.

“I wouldn’t want to experience life without you by my side either, Y/N,” Spencer finally said when he’d regained the composure to do so, “I love you so damn much.”

They talked for hours, well into the night. They had so much to talk about, so much to share with one another.

But the most comforting thought was the knowledge they both could finally begin to heal; as individuals and as one.

•

Twelve Months

It’s ironic how the one year anniversary of the miscarriage was probably the best day yet of their recovery.

The initial conversation Spencer and Y/N had wasn’t the last one. Many more followed. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t have a conversation about it or mention it in some sort of way.

The atmosphere was lighter, their moods brighter, their mental health and relationship in a much better place than it had been.

They often had extended conversations about what they thought their angel baby would’ve been like, who they would’ve looked like. This time it was with less heartache and more wonder.

Spencer had finally admitted something that had been weighing on his mind though he wasn’t sure if he should share it with her. He told her that even though it didn’t go the way they had expected it to, he was thankful and grateful for the time they had had with Peanut.

The miscarriage had tested them and their relationship in ways they couldn’t have ever expected. Somehow, they had made it out of that dark tunnel through to the other side. They’d gotten through it and it had made their relationship stronger.

Even though it had only been a short time they’d had with this baby, it was more than none at all. Y/N had agreed. They had grown as individuals and grown as a couple over the last twelve months.

Other conversations regarding their loss were talked about too. They still wanted kids, they still intended on having them, but they’d decided they weren’t going to actively try.

If it was meant to happen anytime soon, it would happen. If not, that was okay too. 

It had been a mutual decision that they wanted to wait while they worked to better themselves and their relationship. They would be parents one day, just not today.

Spencer couldn’t help compare how different things were now than they were a year ago. It seemed finally, they were at peace. 

Grief was a strange thing. Sometimes it brought people closer together, other times it pushed them apart. In some cases, it could do both.

Y/N had refused to put the converse away in a closet or a drawer until they were needed.

She once didn’t want to remember, but now she didn’t want to forget. Spencer couldn’t have agreed more.

Now, the baby shoes sat on the dresser in their bedroom on display. It was a reminder of what they lost, but of what was to come. It was a reminder of what they’d been through, but to also remind them not to dwell anymore.

There was no reason to hold on to the pain like they had done for so long. They would always remember, but they’d no longer let it consume them entirely.

There, the baby shoes now sat, in hopes to one day be filled with tiny baby feet.

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore​ @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @likelovers @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​

[sweetchup]

Of Blood and Bruises

Anon asks: You’re writing is super underrated may I request Feitan x artist who draws dark themes please make it a lemon if you’re feeling scandalous :)

Anon asks: I’m in love with your writing! Could you do another NSFW scenario with Fei when he loses control? Thank you!!

Type: Feitan x reader

Au?: None

Word count: 3,000+

Warnings: Angst, Blood/gore, Mature Content, Lime, NSFW, Abuse, Psychotic/Sociopath reader, slight yandere?

Author Note: I decided to combine two asks into one scenario because they fit really well together. I hope you two like it and thanks for all the compliments. I get really happy when I read them!! ❤️❤️

“Though Little Spider, I truly believe that there is a Nen Curse on the Bloody Jewel of the East. It’s the only plausible answer.”

You look away from your sketchbook to look down at Chrollo who had laid his head on your lap, his eyes closed as he talks. What were you going to do with this man?

“Chrollo I’m pretty sure the reason it’s called the Bloody Jewel is because it’s a big red jewel found after 100 men in the mines got crushed to death by an explosion Accident. I don’t think a dynamite getting set off counts as any sort of Nen curse.” You say, causing the man on your lap to snort. You shake your head and go back to sketching. You had really taken inspiration from the recent Budo Knives that you guys had stolen, and you were trying to capture the essence of the destructiveness they caused to the human body when used. The blood splatter, the guts and the gore, always amazed you like it was some sort of wonderful form of art. So you sketch it, framing your memories and love for death into time itself.

“I’m starting to think you should take up my spot as leader. What do you say, (y/n)?”

“Yeah, and let you be the heart? No way Boss, sorry.” You hear Chrollo and some of the other members chuckle. Looking away from Chrollo you look at the members who had laughed. “I’m serious. Come on. Imagine if the boss had my job. We be all dead before we could say ‘Spider Shish Kabob’”

This causes all of the members to break out into a fit of laughter, even causing you to crack and laugh. As you all begin to calm down, wiping the tears from your eyes, you notice something. We’re missing someone.

“Hey. Where’s Feitan?” No one responds but you feel the room get tense. You had just now realized you haven’t seen the sadistic short man all day. You should probably go check up on him.

Pulling Chrollo lightly off your lap, you jump down onto the bottom floor of the cobblestone abandoned church you guys were hiding out in. If you remember correctly, Feitan took the 3rd room on the left side halfway. You go to walk down there but a giant hand grabs onto you. Blinking, you turn to look at Franklin who had stopped you.

“I wouldn’t suggest that, (y/n). Let’s just leave Feitan alone.” Franklin says, using his other hand to pat your head, “How about you just join Shalnark, Uvo, Phinks and I in a game of cards?”

“But, why…Why can’t I check up on Feitan? Is he torturing someone again? You know I don’t get bothered by that stuff.”

Franklin goes to rebut but Uvo lets out a laugh and cuts him off. “Don’t try Franklin. It’s pointless when (y/n) wants to go do her job.”

Uvogin takes a sip of his beer before looking serious at you. “I wouldn’t suggest it though, squirt. Shalnark and Phinks decided to really just annoy the shit out of Feitan today. So he’s not… in the best state of mind right now, kiddo.”

You sigh and glare at Shalnark and Phinks who freeze up under your gaze. “You two hadn’t learned your lesson from last time didn’t you. Well, that doesn’t change things because I’m still going to check up on him.”

“(Y/n)—“

“Franklin. It’s my job. You guys are the legs, Chrollo is the head and I’m the heart. It’s my job to make sure everything is running smoothly within the Troope and during missions. I can’t have any bad blood going on with the members before we go out on a mission.”

Franklin and you stare each other down for a couple of minutes before the larger man removes his hand. He lets out a sigh clearly not happy with letting you go. “Fine. But, you better call us if anything happens. I don’t trust Feitan right now.”

You giggle and hit Franklin on the arm. “Of course but I doubt anything will happen.”

Franklin stares as he watches you walk away. He just can’t understand why you do your job. After all you just—

“Franklin! Come on we are about to start.” Franklin sighs at Shalnark’s call and just decides to leave the thought alone for now.

————🕸—☠️—🕸————

“What? Is that all you can do short ass—“ The man chokes out another scream as Feitan peels off another fingernail. Feitan was not amused by the man and honestly, he wasn’t calming down, he was just getting more pissed off. This man had a sharp tongue just like Shalnark and Phinks. Maybe he should cut theirs out next time when the boss or (y/n) isn’t looking. “Fuck.. you… you gay bi—“

Feitan had enough of the man and decided to just snap his neck, it’s easier that way and maybe with some quiet he could calm down. Feitan takes a deep breath, his fingers shaking in rage. He needs to calm down, he’s usually not like this and if he can’t he’ll snap.

“Fei?” You stick your head through the door. All you can see under the light of candles is the back of Feitan who is looking at a dead man on the table in front of him. You wait a couple of seconds but you get no response so you walk in. You come closer and closer until you're standing next to Feitan. You don’t look at the black haired man and instead, grab the hand of the dead man in front of you. “Wow. I always wondered how you could be so good at peeling fingernails. You always do it so clean and precise. You should teach me one time.”

You two then sit in silence for a while after you speak. You take a shaky breath. Feitan is usually quiet but he’s never been this silent around you before.

“Hey Fei… I don’t know what happened but—“

When you put a light hand on Feitan's shoulder, all hell breaks loose. One second, you're standing next to him and the next you're being pressed up against the wall. You go to yell out but Feitan quickly shuts you up by fiercely kissing you. Crap, you should’ve listened to Franklin. Now, you're stuck in a bad situation, like you always are.

Feitan pulls away from your mouth with a light string of saliva still connecting you two. You look into the man’s eyes and just see pure sadistic darkest enveloping them. Just from looking at it you know. You know that Feitan has completely lost himself.

“Fei—“ “Shut up.” Feitan grabs the roots of your hair and pulls it back, hard. You let a whine out at the painful feeling before letting out a small moan as Feitan moves to your neck. Feitan starts with harsh bruising kisses and sucks on your neck and shoulder. You gulp, slightly scared, as he sucks particularly hard on a spot right where your windpipe is. You hear the man chuckle at your gulp, amused by your reaction.

You definitely shouldn’t have given a reaction because now he was given harsh vampire hickeys and blood drawing bites on important parts of your neck and shoulders. Including the important carotid arteries that are needed to deliver blood to your brain and head. This definitely wasn’t good, it was very dangerous what Feitan is attempting. But, at the same time, you didn’t know what to do in this situation, you’ve been in bad situations but not like this. Technically if you allowed Feitan to do what he wanted, it could calm him down and a possible later on situation with another member could be avoided. You just weren't sure if it was the right call when he’s like this. He could honestly kill you right now without a single thought if he wanted to.

You are startled out of your raising thoughts as you hear a popping noise. Blushing, you watch helplessly as Feitan bursts open your shirt, the buttons flying off as he does so. “Feitan—“

You can’t get a word out again as your head is slammed against the wall with Feitan’s hand at your throat. You shiver as you meet Feitan’s gaze with teary eyes, slightly scared as you feel a little of his bloodlust leak out. As you are about to feel as if your heart was going to actually burst out of your chest and run away, Feitan looks away, focusing on undressing the rest of you.

You would let out a sigh of relief at that but can’t. Afterall, you felt as if you were literally being hanged.

Due to Feitan being strong, he could and was holding you off the ground, with the tips of your feet hardly scraping the cobblestone. It also didn’t help that he was ever so often squeezing a little bit more forcefully down on your neck, making the next breath you take after he unsqueezes feel like hot coal traveling down your throat. It was honestly a heart stopping feeling, it was something so scary that you have never felt before. Not even back in the hell place of Meteor City. Fuck, your mind was screaming at you to do something as you felt your sense of sight loosing itself. You were actually going to die or, at the very least, pass out from lack of oxygen.

As if you God suddenly heard your call, though according to Chrollo there isn’t one, Feitan let’s you go and you fall to your knees in a fit of coughing. It has never been so amazing to you to feel the sweet amazing life force called air flow through you.

Though that is very short lived as you feel a hand grab and tug your hair. You look towards the direction you're being pulled and blush as you come face to face with Feitan’s cock. Gulping, you look up at the man who glares down at you. He had a firm grip on your hair so you knew there was no use in running away now.

Pulling a shaky hand up you grab onto the pulsing shaft and take a couple of slow pumps. As you do so you hear Feitan hiss and grip onto your hair tighter. At least he’s very sensitive so this should hopefully go quickly. You lean your face in and give small kitten licks from the bottom of the shaft all the up to the tip. As you finally make it up to the top, you give the blushing tip a kiss as a little precum leaks out of it. You gulp as you feel the substance make contact with your tongue, it was an interesting taste that sent a shiver up your spine.

Now comes the hard part. You’ve never ever given anyone head or a blowjob before so you are going to have to somehow figure this out, and fast too unless you want Feitan to get mad. Opening your mouth you wrap your lips around Feitan’s tip, careful to make sure your teeth don’t rub against his shaft.

Clenching your eyes shut and trying to focus not on gaging, you take Feitan inch by inch into your mouth until your nose is right against his pubic hair. Your eyes and throat stings, you definitely know you can’t take Feitan in this far yet so you’ll have to use your hands for part of the blowjob. As you go to pull away you feel Feitan clutch onto your hair tighter.

You quickly look up worried at the man as you still have his full length in his mouth. Feitan smirks down at you and, as if he wants you to suffer, he starts to make short thrust into your mouth, keeping your head still as he does so.

Tears start to roll down your cheeks as your throat begins to convulse erratically around his length. Your throat absolutely burned as you continuously gagged at each thrust and you honestly felt as if you wanted to puke. You were definitely already not ready to give a blowjob after getting strangled, little less a face fuck.

You place your hands on his thighs, clawing at them, trying to get Feitan to stop or at the very least slow down. Though the pain you give him as you claw into him only makes him go faster.

“Fuck…” Feitan chuckles as he looks down at you. “Your throat is literally spazzing around me. Can’t take it, can you (y/n)?”

You look up at Feitan and looking at him through blurry eyes, you beg him to stop. Though as you go to make some sort of sound, it only causes vibration and it makes Feitan thrusts move erratically and unrhythmically.

“F-Fuck. You stupid slut, trying to make me— fuck.”

Feitan gives a last couple of messy thrusts before burying his whole length in your mouth. He lets out a groan and a couple of swears as he finally releases and his cum starts squirting out in strands, painting your throat and mouth white. All you can do is try to swallow as much as you can, trying not to choke on the thick white substance.

Feitan lets out a sigh as he finally pulls out of your mouth, allowing a few last white strands to paint your face. As he lets your head go you, exhausted, lean against the wall trying to stabilize yourself. So much hurt, from your jaw to your throat and even some of the bites on your chest. Nothing felt right.

You flinch as you feel something touch your cheek. Opening your eyes, you see Feitan with his hand now away. As you look into his eye, you can see he had finally calmed down and had snapped out of his trance.

Feitan feels as if he’s been stung as you flinch because of him. Though, he can’t blame you, he had lost control of himself and totally blacked out. He just can’t believe what he did to you. You are all bruised and bloody, and dirty with his cum streamed on your face. He clenches his fist as he feels his eyes start to burn. You are the heart, the little spider of the group. You help the troupe members even if not asked. You make sure they’ve eaten, taken showers, you bandage their wounds, and even taken care of them when they get sick. You are the one that actually cares if they make it back from a mission or not. Feitan remembers as if it was yesterday how hard you cried and mourned when the previous number 4 and 8 hadn’t come back.

“F-feitan.” You say shakily, reaching a hand up as you see a tear roll down the man’s face. As you are about to touch him, he slaps your hand away and backs up.

“Don’t comfort me. D-don’t.”

“But-t, feitan I—“

“Don’t (y/n). I don’t deserve it. You know that—“ Feitan is cut off as you grab onto him. Clutching him to you in a hug. Feitan scurries to try to pull you off, “(y/n)! Let go! Are you fucking insane?! Look at yourself, look at what I’ve done to you. You’re our little spider and I hurt you!! I’m a monst—“

Feitan is cut off yet again as he feels a sting. You, you just slapped him. You just slapped the torturer of the phantom troupe. Feitan finally looks at you again and he sees you looking serious at him. “You idiot. Don’t call yourself a monster. This is the first time you’ve ever hurt me. And you didn’t mean it, right? Then to me that means you are forgiven.”

“W-what?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Feitan puts his head down and lets out a soft laugh. He just can’t believe what he heard. “What…what the fuck is wrong with you? How can you forgive me so easily. Are you fucking stupid or something?”

You put a finger to your chin and think. “Hmmm… I think so. Remember the time Phinks chucked me into a car by accident when he got mad.”

“I’m not fucking talking about that—“

“Feitan. Stop.”

Feitan glares at you as you massage your fingers through his hair. “You know this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten hurt. Like I said before Phinks has chucked me into a car before when he got mad. Uvogin was so close to paralyzing me once. Hell, even Machi sewed my lips closed once. It comes with the territory. Because…”

You place your forehead on Feitan’s and he sighs, not wanting to say what he knows is true. “You're the heart... It’s your job to make sure everything is running smoothly within the Troope and during missions. Even…

Feitan’s throat chokes up and he can’t make himself finish. You place a small kiss on his forehead and finish for him. “Even, if it means I get hurt. I’m the toughest muscle in the body so I can take the burden off of the legs and the head.”

Feitan is silent for a moment. He stares blankly into your eyes, just wondering why. Why do your eyes still spark when you look at him after what he had just done to you? What the others have done to you… Why do you still stay around? Just why—

“Feitan.” The man snaps out of it. He watches as you stand up to pull out your sketchbook that you had dropped when he attacked. As soon as you have it in your hand, you pat your lap as you sit down, “tell me what happened. I heard Shalnark and Phinks caused something.”

The man, unemotionally, plops his head down on your lap. It was wrong, he knew everything was wrong with the current structure of how the troupe was set up. But, he knew, it was pretty much a fact, that they couldn’t live without you and the way you just make their life so much brighter and better.

Feitan just lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. No matter how much bruises and blood you receive. No matter how much trauma you face. No matter how much you just want to quit. The heart has to pump on.

… Because without it…the Spider will die.

[your-local-bnha-writer]

Hi I wanted to request some Kirishima x reader angst! It can be anything, surprise me! Cuz I’ve been craving some angst lately... also, I really like the way you write, it’s great! ♥️✨✨

“I can’t keep kissing people and pretend that they’re you!”

Eijirou Kirishima

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Warning(s): Swearing??

Genre: Angst babyyyy

Word count: 2301

A/N: Hiiii! Thanks for requesting! I’m glad you like my writing, although I’m still pretty new and I’m still trying to perfect angst. But hope you enjoy!

I don’t own the art!

———————————————————————

You sighed and shifted uncomfortably as you watched your ex gassing up another girl. You guys only split up about a week ago and he's been with 3 girls so far.

You were so glad he was taking it much better than you were. You were happy he wasn't sitting at home eating tubs of ice cream and crying until 3am in the morning.

Sighing softly, you took Mina's hand wanting to leave the shop as soon as possible.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think he was gonna be here I thought—"

"It's okay Mina, really," you say giving her a smile. But she could see right through it. Your eyes told a different story.

She huffed but decided to not talk about it anymore. Instead she ranted about a new lipstick she saw saying that it would totally compliment her skin colour.

You tried to listen, you really did. But all you could think about was how quickly Kirishima moved on.

Had our relationship meant nothing to him?

Was it all just some...joke?

Did he really love you?

You thought about the first time he told you he loved you. It wasn't at some romantic park, with cherry blossoms fluttering gracefully beside you as he declared his undying love for you.

It was when you first moved in to your small cozy apartment. It was tiny, cheap and had lots of room for improvement. To other people it looked like a filthy shack with rusty windows. You and Kirishima weren't different, but you guys had put the time and effort into renovating and making it look like a tornado had just passed through.

After all your hard work on the first day, you and Eijirou slept on dirty mattress that were set up in the master bedroom and shared a thin blanket that could barely cover the both of you. It wasn't the best, but you two made it work. It until a few moments later when he whispered in your ear that he loved you.

"Y/n? Y/nnn," a voice says snapping you out of your thoughts. You come back to reality seeing a hand move up and down in front of your face.

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah that colour would suit you," you say hoping that she wouldn't catch on.

"Oh sweet little Y/n, I stopped talking about that a while ago, I asked you how you were holding up," she states. You don't need to ask what she was talking about, you already know.

"Well, I've watched at least 4 romcoms and have gone through 2 buckets of ice cream and well on my way on my 3rd one, so not good," you say finally opening up on your whole situation. You give her a sad smile.

"Damn, I'm sorry about the whole thing, I've been trying my best to try and cheer you up," she says.

"But it looks like it's not working, so what do you wanna do next?" she asks determined. You chuckle softly.

"Mina, that's sweet and all but I don't need you to cheer me up, I'm fine," you say putting on the mask again. You're not sure why, you opened up about how you were doing, she already knows, so why are you putting the wall up again.

"No, Y/n, you literally just opened up about how you were feeling you can't just back out now," she says like she just read your mind. You bite your lip anxiously.

"It's fine," you say quickly.

"No it's—"

"Mina, it's okay, I'm okay, I was exaggerating," you say, you look into her eyes. She doesn't believe you. You could practically feel the sympathy radiating off of her. That feeling of wanting to help.

You didn't need her help. You didn't need anyone's help. You were okay, you were fine. You could get through this by yourself and it would a cakewalk.

"Thank you though," you say gently grabbing her hand. Mina gets this doubtful look once again, but she chooses to ignore it.

"Okay...well I've got to go now! Me and Ochaco are baking muffins for the class reunion tomorrow!" she beamed excitedly. Your face drops.

You had forgotten about the class reunion. Wonderful, more chances to see Kirishima with making out with his new girlfriend. You wonder which girl he would bring in this time.

"You do know there's a class reunion tomorrow, right?" Mina asks raising a brow. You subconsciously nod your head.

"Yeah...yeah! Mhm, I remember, can't wait so excited!" You trying not to panic.

"Okay...well I'll see you there! Bye!" She says and you two part your ways.

You wave and sigh to yourself.

Eijirou had gone to live with Sero and Kaminari. So you had the apartment to yourself. He was still in the process of moving out so you had some of his items.

As you went to get ready, a scarlet red card had been poking out of Kirishima's drawer.

"Nope," you say to yourself, "Not even going to touch it, that's so disrespectful to go through his things like why would you even—"

With no self control whatsoever, you rip the card from the drawer and open it. Your eyes shot up as you read it.

Our one year anniversary.

You think back to where you and Eijirou had your 1 year anniversary date. July 29th. He took you out to watch a beautiful sunset, he even took the time to grab blankets and food. After the sunset you two laid and watched the stars.

You feel a certain ache in your heart. Deciding to ignore it, you put the letter onto his drawer and crawl under the covers of your bed. A million thoughts running around.

The next morning

"You're going! And that's that!" Mina says struggling to pull you off of the bed.

"No! I see them all the time why do I need to see them today?!" You yell clutching onto the sides of your bed.

"They're your class! We learned how to be heroes with them! Now c'mon! Even Bakugo's gonna be there!" She shouts and with one last tug, manages to rip you off of your bed.

"Fine," you give up, "Only because I wanna see Bakugo," you huff. Mina yells in delight and goes to get you ready.

At the party (30 min in)

You made your rounds to everyone. Said hi to every single person in the room, except Kirishima. You gave him a polite smile but decided to not go any further.

Only half an hour in and you already want to leave. You grab Mina's arm and ask if you guys could go yet.

"We just got here! Let loose, grab some drinks, have some fun~" she days wiggling her eyebrows. Gross.

You roll your eyes and went to catch up with Momo.

(3 and a half hours in)

You finally got your chance to speak with Bakugo. He was a good friend, didn't push you away. That's actually how you got closer to Kirishima, and eventually how you guys started dating. Through all of it Bakugo had been there to support your guys relationship.

As the night went by you can't help but miss your UA days. Everything was so simple back then. You feel tears sting your eyes but you quickly blink them away, not wanting to seem vulnerable.

You feel that same ache in your chest again.

"Heyo, Y/n! C'mere for a sec," a voice called out. You turn to see Denki standing along with Eijirou and Hanta. You raise a brow and gulp but walked towards them.

"Yeah?" You ask. Denki's eyes shift over to Kirishima's and he awkwardly coughs.

"I'll be right back," Eijirou says and walks away. You raise a brow at Denki.

"Uh," he laughs nervously, "One second, hey Kirishima! What the fuck?" He yells and runs after him. You eye Sero suspiciously but all he does is shrug.

"He still loves you, ya know," he says casually. Your breath hitches but you force yourself to stay calm.

"Does he actually?" your voice was quiet. Almost inaudible, but thank god Hanta's a good listener.

"Yep, just because he's with all these girls doesn't mean he's not over you, maybe that's just his coping method," Sero shrugs as you and him watch Denki and Eijirou yelling at each other.

With your last bit of hope you whisper something to yourself.

"Maybe," and with that you hunt down Kirishima.

"This way, nobody'll hear us and I feel like we should talk in private," you mumble leading Eijirou around. You suddenly stop and drop to the ground, signalling him to come sit with you. He sighs, but follows.

"Let's talk," you say shortly.

"What do we have to talk about? I mean I've moved on, you've moved on—"

"How do you know that?" You interrupt. That shuts him up.

Running a hand through your hair you sigh loudly. You open your mouth to say something but Kirishima beats you to it.

"Look, I won't lie to you, I'm not happy, and by the looks of it you're not either," he says. You don't let him finish.

"You're not happy? But you're with all these girls and—"

"Because I didn't know how to get over you!" He yells. Your eyes widened a bit and you fall silent. Kirishima breaths.

"You're...am amazing person Y/n, incredible, you treated me so well and were there with me when I wasn't at my peak," he confesses. You nod for him to keep going.

"And you were so special to me, and when we broke it off, that hurt, a lot actually, I didn't think anyone could have that effect on me," he says smiling slightly.

"But I'm here, to ask you, if we could get back together?"

That was the question you had feared all this time. Simply because you weren't sure, you loved Kiri, you had spent so much time together and really have gotten to know each other. But on the other hand...maybe you were better off just as friends.

"Kiri I...I love you and you're so special and dear to me but, I feel like we should stay as friends," you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes immediately darted down to avoid his gaze.

"Please, just one more chance, one more chance and if it doesn't go well...I'll let you go," he sighs. You were overwhelmed.

"Look, there'll be other girls for you to date and get to know maybe if—" but you were cut off.

"I don't want those other girls Y/n, I only care about you,"

You didn't know why, but something about that line sparked that burning anger in your chest.

"Then why did you date those other people," You growled glaring at him slightly.

"Wha— to get over you!" He says raising his voice.

"Do you know how hard it was to lay in bed every night not having the person you love beside you?!" He screams. This makes you angrier.

"And you think that didn't happen to me? You think I just got over this whole breakup in one night? You think I don’t love you and get jealous every time I see you with those girls?!" You screech. Your minds blurry, all you can think about is fury, and yet you continue.

"Why don't you just go and make out with 15 girls to get over me huh?!" You shout with tears in your eyes.

"I can't keep kissing other people and pretend it’s you!” He yells. Your heart stops.

Suddenly, you can think clear. You can see clearer as well. You start to think straight and look at the situation properly. The burning feeling of fury starts to melt away.

"Eijirou..." you start but soon realize you can't finish that sentence. You look at him and find out he's crying as well. He takes a breathes before he speaks.

"Y/n...I don't know what I'd do without you," he states.

"And I'm sorry if I was being pushy, I'm sorry for a lot of things but I won't list them all out," he says chuckling a bit. You smile softly.

"I'm sorry as well, I should've seen the situation from your perspective," you murmur. It was then to realize, that you really do love Eijirou Kirishima. He really was the one.

"And I get if you don't want to get back together, I just thought I'd try but before I go, I just wanted to let you know that...you deserve so much better, you're a truly amazing person and any guy would be so lucky to have you, I just wish I was the one," he says smiling sadly.

Although you can't see it since he was turning away, you just know he was tearing up again. That's just how he's is, he's big softie. A softie that you won't let go.

"I truly do love you and wish you the best of luck in life," he says before turning to walk away. You panic and force your legs to move.

"Eijirou wait!" You say grabbing his arm. He turns around with hope in his eyes, that same sparkle that you've always loved. You smile softly.

"I'm willing to try again," you say. He gasps cutely before chuckling and picking you up to spin you around. He leans in for a kiss before hesitating.

"Can I ?" He asks. You giggle. Truly a gentleman.

You don't answer, instead you crash your lips onto his.

Through all of the tears, mistakes and downfalls, you two always seem to make it work out in the end. You push past those thoughts and pull him closer, glad to have him back.

[singulari-taee]

The Danger in Duality | 08

COLLEGE! AU  |  ASSASSIN! AU  |  ANGST  | SMUT  | COMEDY | 10k

BTS X Reader

CW: Graphic depictions of violence and sexually explicit content

“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students.”

__________________________________________________

“Well, that was depressing,” Hoseok said after the call dropped.

Defeat washed over the room. 

“What are the chances?” Namjoon asked. His fingers clasped in front of his face, expression etched in deep thought, “20 miles? That’s nothing.”

“Didn’t Squad 8 have something similar happen to them a few years ago, but with a different group?” Taehyung asked.

“Yeah but it was just a small rivalry, and Squad 8 handled it in a couple weeks. Anti or whoever keeps targeting The Academy’s squads...and they’re so close,” he said, “The Academy is the biggest organization of it’s kind in the world, so my guess is that Anti set up camp so close to make some sort of territory war.”

“But why do we have to be the ones caught in the middle?” Jimin said.

“Right, we literally could have been stationed anywhere,” you huffed.

“Well, since we’re the best squad, and Grandpa kind of prioritises us, he wanted us closer to home...like regional guards I guess,” Taehyung said.

“So essentially...nepotism came back to bite us in the ass,” you said.

“It wasn’t nepotism!” Namjoon began to fight, but he shared a look with Taehyung and didn’t continue.

“Well then why not start by targeting us if we’re the closest?” Hoseok asked.

“Maybe they were using the other squads as practice before they got to us,” Namjoon shrugged, “or maybe it was just a warning.”

Silence.                     

“I can’t do this right now,” Seokjin sighed, carding a hand through his hair as he walked to his room, “The mission is tomorrow and I gotta prepare.”

“Hey! Are you still watching the game with us tonight?” Hoseok called after him.

“Maybe,” he shut the door behind him.

“I’m gonna head out too,” you said.

“Woah, I thought you wanted to watch it!” Hoseok whined.

“Sorry, Seokjin’s right though. I need to prepare for tomorrow and I still have a shit ton of homework.”

“I’ll pass too,” Jungkook said as he and Taehyung followed you to the door.

“Oh not you too!” Hoseok threw his arms up.

“You know I don’t even like basketball,” Jungkook said, “Damn, Seokjin still has my calculator.”

Jungkook jogged to the oldest’s room and flung open the door.

Seokjin stood in nothing but boxers in the middle of the room. He was quick to cover himself as he let the profanity fly.

“Fuck are you doing?! Ever heard of knocking, you little shit?! Get out!”

He pushed Jungkook to the door, but the youngest pushed back effortlessly as he made his way to the calculator on the desk.

“Oops. Forgot this.” he said, “And you know how it works. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in, you would have locked it.”

“That’s not how this works! It’s my room!”

“What are you doing anyway?”

“Changing- you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Move!” he shoved the youngest out of the room and locked the door.

“Yeah, so...I’m gonna go,” you said. You spared a glance back at Yoongi, who’s eyes followed you as you walked out of the apartment.

Jungkook and Taehyung were close behind. The sun had almost fully set, and it stretched over the horizon in a spray of oranges and reds. You neared the fork in the road, an indication to go your separate ways. 

“Hey,” Jungkook said, “When the hell can I get that SIG-Sauer P228 off your hands?”

You scoffed, “I still can’t believe it's not too basic for you. That’s, like, a 3rd week of training level pistol.”

“No, what? Shut up! What do you even know?”

“I know that it’s basic.”

“Basic?! You’ve got the special limited holiday edition! It’s got the gold two-tone finish and the indented grip. Oh fuck and the light-weight. Ugh-,” he shook his head as he looked up at the sky, smiling. “And you promised!”

“You know he’s not gonna let it go now,” Taehyung warned.

“Okay, whatever fine, just come by and get it.”

Jungkook turned and you stuck your hand out, “What?”

“Woah, not right now.”

“Not now?! Then when?!” his arms flapped at his side, making him look like a tantrum-throwing child.

You shrugged and walked on, “Not now.”

He called after you, each word followed by a curse. It was true, you had promised that you would give him the gun soon. You rarely used it and when you told him you had it collecting dust in the back of your closet he all but ripped your head off, going on about how you didn’t respect the craft and how he’d save it from the likes of you (whatever the hell that meant). There was just no way you could deal with the company now, and the sooner you were back to your room the better.

As you neared your apartment, you saw a familiar car in the parking lot. The warning was all you needed to mentally prepare yourself for your roommate.

Turning your key in the lock, you pushed inside. Luna sat on the sofa, focused on her laptop.

“Hey!” she chirped, “How was your day?”

“Hey,” you nodded, “Okay, just stressful as usual.”

“Aww I’m sorry to hear that. Wanna come study with me?” she asked, patting the spot next to her.

You looked down the hall. The sanctuary of your room was just so close.

“Ah, damn. I’m just really tired, I don’t think I can focus right now.”

“Oh...I see,” she said in a low voice. The disappointment was clear, “It’s just that we never really see each other or hang out. We live together but I don’t really feel like I know you.”

And you never really will, you thought.

“I know,” you played with your fingers, “Tonight's just not good for me. But we can hang out soon. I promise. I’ll...try and make time for it.”

“Really? Okay! Sounds good,” she smiled, “Oh, and I already made dinner, there’s some left on the stove if you get hungry.”

With a thanks you went to your room, shut the door, and threw yourself on the bed. The blank ceiling didn’t help to clear your mind, just made it easier for your thoughts to race out of control.

It was all just so much.

Being hunted. 

Being on top of the food chain, you never knew what it was like to be the prey. There was nothing good about feeling so exposed, especially when their den was supposedly 20 or so miles away. Why did it have to be so close? You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched even within the confines of your mind and home. The news was messing with you.

Tomorrow’s mission. 

It would be easy, but you hadn’t been on a unit mission in a while, and there was always more pressure when the whole squad wasn’t present. It would only be three of you, and only two would even enter the scene at all. Shouldn’t they have mixed up the skill-set and gotten someone else other than him? Hoseok would have been great on a stealth mission like this. And why did it have to be Yoongi of all people?

Yoongi.

The confusion you felt throughout the day came rushing back again. You couldn’t understand the reason behind his thought process. He was always so hard to read and today was no different. He never seemed like the casual ‘come over and let’s just chill’ type. He always needed his space, and given your past relationship you were always more than willing to give that to him. But with your new arrangements, having him want to see you beyond lust muddied the waters. Yes, you were friends. As strange as you liked to show it, you had been so for years. But never had you made an effort to spend time alone unless it was for work. Something about it felt wrong- even more so than the hookups. It felt like a new boundary was being crossed, one that was even scarier than the first. 

But god how you wanted him. 

He looked oddly beautiful watching the film earlier. Seeing him in gruesome violence for years, the delicate nature of the scene was enough to take you aback. There was just something about his gentleness....

You caught yourself. The corners of your lips shifted up without approval and you wiped it clean. 

No. He only wanted this because you’re the only option. It was a safe investment- not because he felt anything else. And neither did you. Nope. You couldn’t. It was against the rules.

You slapped your hand against the bed, and pushed yourself towards the bathroom for a shower. As the water ran, you stripped down in front of the mirror. Your naked body was littered with nearly invisible scratches and bruises- the norm considering your routine. You couldn’t recall the last time you saw your skin clear of any marks.

Your phone buzzed against the counter top, a sign of a text message.

Picking it up, you noticed the speed of your heart change.

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

Yoongi: You get home okay?

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

You rolled your eyes. As if you couldn’t handle making your way home “okay”.

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

You: No

Yoongi: ???

You: Some guys told me they’d give me candy if I got in their van so 💁 

         idk where we’re goin tho. 

          just cruisin rn.

Yoongi: Stop

You: Lmaooo take a joke

Yoongi: Today was fun

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

The butterflies fluttered in your stomach a bit.

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

You: Yeah great movie choice btw

Yoongi:🙄 wyd rn?

You: About to get in the shower

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

You waited for his response, but after a minute you sat the phone back down and walked towards the tub. You heard another buzz and doubled back to check.

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

Yoongi: Send me a picture

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

You stared at your screen, rereading the words to make sure you weren’t mistaken.

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

You: Of…?

Yoongi: You dumbass

             Before your shower

You: so nudes

Yoongi: Yeah

             I wanna see you…

             But you don’t have to 

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

You mulled over an answer. There was something about the idea of teasing him from afar that made your stomach knot with desire. You crossed your legs tighter. He had all day during the movie to “see you”. Why choose when you’re back home and unable to touch you to ask?

You positioned yourself in front of the mirror, trying to find the best angle. Sure you had taken pictures of yourself for yourself, but never with the intention of anyone else ever seeing them.

You twisted your body to see the curves in the reflection, a hand over your head for a better view of your bare chest. Though this was new, you weren’t stupid to the rules- never show your face. With the camera placed to block everything from the chin up, you heard the shutter as you posed.

Click.

You switched angles, leaning forward with your boobs pushed together.

Click.

You sat on the counter, and turned to get a view of your perched ass in the reflection. 

Click. 

You went back to check them, and you couldn’t help the satisfaction. These were hot. So hot you nearly turned yourself on. 

Lucky bastard, you thought

After selecting the images, your finger hovered over the send button. With a deep breath, you bit the bullet and pressed it. Your anxiety wouldn’t allow you to wait for his response, so you put your phone down and hopped into the shower. You would see his reaction when you got out.

_________________

Yoongi hadn’t left his spot on the couch since you left. He spared glimpses at his phone, waiting for you to respond. Every moment that he got nothing, he cursed himself. He was being too thirsty and freaked you out. No way you would agree to this. He didn’t know what made him type out something so blatantly horny, he was embarrassed. Maybe he should apologize. Way to push his luck and make it awkward.

He was just so out of his mind after the assignment, he could barely think straight. He needed a distraction, anything to occupy his mind and not send him down the rabbit hole that was his unchecked fury. It just made no sense. 

There was finally a vibration on his lap, and he carefully looked down to his notifications. 

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

[3 attachments]

_______: Delete them from our messages after. 

                I expect you to kiss the ground I walk on after these. You’re welcome. 

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

 He opened the message and caught a glimpse of the pictures. He sucked in a quick breath and threw his phone down. 

He looked around the room. The others weren’t paying him any mind. Yoongi slowly picked the phone back up and took in the pictures in all their glory. 

His breathing went shallow as he scrolled and zoomed on the screen. They weren’t just any crude pictures- there was an art to it that made him unable to look away. The curves of your body in the faint glow of the bathroom was delicious. Your body. God, your body. The longer he stared, he found something else to marvel over. He was glad he couldn’t see your face, because the thought of a smirk on your lips was enough to make his imagination run wild. He realized his mouth was hanging open and hurried to fix it. His pants were suddenly tighter, and he shifted to hide the sudden erection that was painfully fighting for his attention. 

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

Yoongi: goddamn.

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

It sounded stupid, he knew that. But was there a right way to respond to something like that? No words or emojis would suffice. He was borderline salivating. 

She told him to delete them after. Right. He still had to do that. 

As Yoongi’s finger floated over the button, he found the deed harder to carry out than expected. The thought of sending them to the trash to never be seen again didn’t sit right with him. 

 Instead he found himself saving them to his Cloud app. They would be safe there, hidden amongst his thousands of other photos and documents. You had only said to delete them from your messages to not leave a trace, so this was still technically okay. He couldn’t think about the morality of it for too long or otherwise his conscience might disagree.

He quickly deleted the pictures from your texts and closed his eyes.

“You alright over there?” Seokjin asked, “You’ve been quiet since the mission assignment. But not, like, normal quiet.”

“Yeah, just have a headache,” Yoongi lied, carefully adjusting his throbbing dick in his pants.

“Hey the game’s starting!” Hoseok called, and the boys turned their attention to the TV. 

While the announcer went on the normal spiel, Yoongi’s mind couldn’t escape the photos. For minutes he fought the urge to check his phone, but the growing boner had other plans. One more peek wouldn’t hurt, he argued.

He went to his Cloud, and found the 3 images resting at the top. He clicked them one by one, eyes caressing every pixel. His dick fought even harder against his underwear, begging for his assistance. 

The fever of the game came to a peak when all the boys erupted in cheers. Yoongi jumped in his seat, seeing the others yell as the players ran across the screen. 

It was nearing impossible to think. Yoongi suddenly stood up from the couch. He positioned his phone before the tent in his pants as he walked out of the living room.

“Where you goin? It’s just getting good!” Jimin called.

Yoongi hurried to his bathroom and opened the pictures again. He couldn’t undo his pants fast enough, and when he finally sprang free and wrapped his fingers around his cock he let out a shuttered breath. He stroked himself as he took in the pictures and everything they had to offer. Seeing the space between your thick thighs made precum dribble to his knuckles. He wanted to take you in the shower and feel you for real. He stroked himself faster. 

The way you squeezed one of your breasts in your hands caused him to hold in a moan. The final picture was his favorite. The arch of your back as it led to your ass made his heart beat violently. He envisioned the time he fucked you from the back. The view of it bouncing back on him as you were pressed against the telescope made his eyes flutter close as he felt himself unwinding. He almost missed the toilet paper as he came moments later.

Yoongi took a deep breath and looked at his reflection. He was flushed and drained. It took every ounce of energy and self-respect to fix himself and return to the living room.

“Took you long enough, you missed the best free-throw of the season,” Namjoon said through a mouthful of pizza. 

Yoongi flopped back on the sofa next to Hoseok. He felt dirty, like they could all smell his shame and fresh orgasm.

“Finally a commercial. Their entire defense needs to be benched...dude, are you looking at porn while I’m sitting right here?!” Hoseok screeched.

“What-?” Out of habit, Yoongi had gone to look at his phone again. But upon unlocking it, the image of your ass covered the entire screen. 

Yoongi scrambled to close the app, but his fingers couldn’t work fast enough. In his frenzy he fumbled and dropped the phone onto the cushions.

“Hey, don’t be stingy,” Hoseok said, swooping in and kicking the phone off the sofa before Yoongi could grab it. He leaped away to put distance between them, eyes going wide, “Damn. This isn’t porn. The shitty quality and angle is pointing to personal nudes.”

Yoongi leaped off the sofa and went towards Hoseok.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Jimin said. Hoseok threw the phone across the room, and he plucked it from the air over Yoongi’s head.

Jimin whistled, “Shit...now this is how you take nudes.”

“Jimin. I’m not fucking playing with you give it b-”

“Wait, there’s more!” he cackled, scrolling through the others. He didn’t even look at Yoongi as he evaded him, jumping over the sofa and coffee table. He paused, eyes going wide as he swallowed. “Goddamn. She’s fine. What did you do to deserve nudes like this? Hey, look at this.”

Jimin jumped over to where Seokjin and Namjoon were standing. The oldest shifted to get a better look and Namjoon took his glasses off.

“Sheesh…” Seokjin’s mouth felt suddenly dry, “No wonder why you weren’t watching the game!”

Namjoon licked his lips, “Who’s even sending you these?”

Yoongi stormed over, but the leader took an instinctive step back, “Don’t fucking worry about it. Namjoon, give it back.”

Namjoon looked at the photo and then back at Yoongi, forehead creased with questions. Jimin snatched the phone from his hands.

“Yoongi got a girlfwend?” he asked in a baby voice.

“Give. It. Back.”

He didn’t dare go to Jimin again, he knew he’d only pass it to Hoseok.

“I mean he didn’t say no,” Seokjin added.

“Aww, why so bashful?” Hoseok doubled over in laughter. 

Yoongi stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched by his side. He was nearly shaking with anger, and he met eyes with Namjoon who was the only one not howling like an idiot.

“Jimin, chill out. Hand him the phone back. The game is back on,” Namjoon said.

“Fuck the game, this is the best thing to happen all day!”

“Give it back or I’ll hang your entrails from the ceiling fan. Every single one of you," Yoongi seethed.

“Oh, be realistic. You can’t kill all of us,” he rolled his eyes.

Yoongi reached into the drawer under the coffee table and pulled out a trailing point combat knife.

“I’ll start with you,”

Jimin squinted, “Bullshit.”

 Without hesitation, he threw the blade and made it land squarely in the opposite wall. Jimin touched his ear, and then looked down at his hand to see specks of blood from where Yoongi had clipped him. 

Jimin’s shoulders dropped and after a moment of consideration he tossed the phone over.

“Learn to take a joke, asshole.”

Yoongi’s cheeks burned red, and the others cleared the way as he stomped back to his room and slammed the door.

____________________

You woke up when your head hit the car window.

“Shit,” you breathed, holding the sore spot in your groggy haze.

“Could you hit any more potholes, Jin? Fuck…” Yoongi cursed, sleep coating his voice.

“Wow, finally some company,” Seokjin said, “You’re acting like I made the damn roads, stop complaining.”

The three of you had begun your journey a little over an hour ago. Trees whizzed by your windows, and metropolitan skylines were slowly replaced with endless meadows and forests.  

“Just when I thought we’d seen every inch of this region,” you said, “we end up in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.”

Seokjin snorted, fiddling with the screen on his dashboard, “Heads up, we should be arriving in 5 minutes.”

You went to your weapons case and strapped a few knives and a glock to your belt. From the passenger seat, you looked in the rearview mirror back at Yoongi. His earlier words had been his only ones all day. Even when you had been picked up for the mission, he barely spared you more than a head nod. He sat in his seat, looking out the window at the passing greenery, unblinking. 

You nudged Seokjin and tilted your head towards the man in the back.

Seokjin shrugged, ‘He’s been like that all day,’ he mouthed.

He didn’t look upset, but more pensive than anything. As if he was trapped in his thoughts without a way to escape.

“Alright we’re here,” Seokjin stopped the car on the side of a desolate road in the middle of the forest. 

“Uh...where’s the cabin?” you asked.

“I forgot no one checks the mission coordinates anymore but me,” he sighed, “Well, this is as far as the road will let me go. My GPS is saying the cabin is about half a mile that way.”

He pointed through the thick trees at nothing,

“So you want us to...walk.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but it's not that far.”

The distance wasn’t your issue. From the look of the sky, the sun would be setting in a few minutes, and you would rather not walk through the woods in pitch blackness.

The three of you stepped out of the van. Seokjin grabbed a few drones from the trunk and after pressing some buttons, released them into the sky toward the cabin. He honestly hated the drones, but because the targets likely didn’t have a security system to be hacked, he had to survey the mission with what devices he had. 

“I’ll be checking in,” he waved as you both began the hike, “You got this, piece of cake like always.”

The leaves crunched under your shoes as you walked in silence for a couple hundred meters. The darkness of night was beginning to catch up to you. You felt the animals scurry past your feet in their haste. 

You turned to Yoongi, face overcasted by shadows.

“You okay?” you asked, “You’ve been quiet.”

He didn’t say anything, and you wondered if he would respond at all until he finally muttered.

“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind,” he looked straight ahead.

“Is it classes? The mission? It should be an easy one like Seokjin and Mr. Kim said,” you pried.

“I just can’t wait for the day to be over.”

You nodded, “I understand. I was wondering why they dispatched us for this mission, you know? I know that they sometimes like to test different combinations, but having two specialized combat positions for such a small call doesn’t make much sense to me.” 

“I was wondering the same thing.”

“You know The Academy though, it’s probably just some sort of test.”

“Well then that’s pretty fucked up.”

You waited on him to elaborate, but the conversation drifted to another hush. 

 “Well...if you ever want to talk about it, just know I’m here if you feel like sharing.”

“‘kay.”

After a few minutes of painful silence, you both saw a light in the distance. You slowed down, taking in the neglected cabin. The wood was covered in moss, hanging together by a few bolts. It appeared to have been forgotten amongst the woods. You couldn’t imagine life inside.

“She’s a beauty, right?” you said, hidden in the shadows behind the trees, “Jin, we made it.”

“Great. I can see you both. Look up,” you glanced up at the night sky, and a drone came to hover over your heads.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “So there’s three we need to take out. You sure they’re in there?”

“I don’t see anyone, but the lights are on. In the call, Mr. Kim said that they hadn’t left in a few days. From the notes, they just went in with a big crate and haven’t even gone outside since.”

A shadow suddenly went past the window, so quick it was almost unnoticeable.

“I saw someone,” he said.

You checked the weapons on your belt, “You ready?”

He nodded, “Make it clean, make it quick. Let’s go.”

You stalked towards the cabin, mere silhouettes in the dark. 

“That window looks easy to open-” you whispered, but Yoongi was already making his way to the back door. You stopped, confused by his overly eager choice, but rushed to catch up. When you approached the door, Yoongi reared back and kicked the flimsy wood in. It burst open loudly, and you both charged into what appeared to be the kitchen. One of the drones flew inside. A man stood at the stove, bread in his hand as he turned to you both. 

“Now, wait what the f-” 

You recognized his face from the photos. Yoongi began to move towards him, but you were already in motion. With a few quick strides you closed the distance. You took the blade from your belt and made a fluid slash across the throat. It was seamless with no splatters- an angle you had worked to master for some time now. His body slumped down, joining the shadows casted on the wooden floor.

Yoongi looked down at the body, “I had it, you know.”

“Didn’t know you had claimed him, I was just trying to get it done. I’ll let you take the next one,” you said carefully.  

He took in the nearly empty interior. No one else was in sight, and it was quieter than expected. You heard some faint motion close by, though it was hard to pinpoint.

You both slowly rounded the corner to see a door with steps leading downwards.

“Pat, hurry the hell up! We’re gonna start without you!” a voice called from the basement. Soon after came the sound of whimpers and muffled screams. 

Footsteps led up towards you as someone climbed the stairs.

“God dammit, every time. Get down here!” said a man with a buzz cut. He froze when he saw you at the top of the stairs. Before he could react, Yoongi planted a foot in his chest, making the man fall and tumble down the stairs.

You rushed down, stepping over his groaning body at the base of the steps.

“Why wouldn’t you just take him out…then?” you began to ask your squad mate. Your hand was on your belt, ready to take out the man at the bottom of the stairs when you turned to see the rest of the basement instead. You felt your blood run cold at the sight before you. 

In the basement was the 3rd target, a ceremonial mask covering his eyes. He was fiddling with the restraints of a woman sitting naked on the floor. They sat in the middle of a circle painted by what you had assumed to be blood. 

“What the fuck?!” the masked man blurted. He jumped up, running towards a shotgun in the corner of the room. Before he could reach it you threw one of your knives. It landed in his hand, pinning him to the wall.

Yoongi stood by the steps, immobile with wide eyes. You followed his gaze to the woman. Her eyes had been covered with a scarf and mouth gagged with a rag. She cried, balling up on the floor to hide from the new unseen horrors she heard. On her wrist, a red circle glistened under the lights.

“Seokjin...the targets have a victim here,” you said tightly.

“What?!” the drone came down the stairs and paused next to you, “Oh god. The crate. She was here this whole time.”

“What the fuck do we do?!”

“I’ll call the police.”

“Police?! This can’t be a job for the Cleanup Crew?!”

“I’m already dispatching the cops. This wasn’t a part of the plan but they’ll take care of her. Just finish the job and get the hell out of there!”

Yoongi’s breathing was shallow. His legs shook under him as if they would give out at any minute. His vision never broke from the woman, eyes zeroed in with a laser focus. 

Behind him there was a quick motion. The man at the stairs had picked up an axe, ready to swing at your squad mate. Yoongi didn’t move, unaware of his surroundings.

“Yoongi, watch out!” Seokjin warned.

 You reached for the gun in your belt and fired two shots to the man’s forehead. 

The shots snapped Yoongi out of his haze. He jumped, and turned to see the body tumble behind him. He looked at you in awe. 

“I…” he tried, lost for words.

The final man had pulled the knife from his hand and slumped against the wall.

“Who are you?! W-who sent you?!” his voice shook. 

Yoongi faced him slowly, jaw taut and far away. He advanced across the floor, closing the distance between them as the masked man screamed to spare his life.

Yoongi crouched down, eye level with him. He pulled the mask away, exposing a thin face and pleading eyes. Yoongi went for the long knife at his side. 

“Please. Please, I’m begging you…”

Yoongi plunged the knife into the target’s chest. It went deep, piercing his heart. The man’s eyes went out of focus as life left him. Yoongi pulled the stained knife out, but didn’t place it back in his belt. He lurched the weapon forward again and again, stabbing so many times you lost count. He grunted with every dig long after the man had stilled. Crimson slowly spread across the man’s white shirt. 

“Woah, stop!” you screamed. You grabbed his arm and pushed him back, “What the hell are you doing? It’s over!”

Yoongi’s face twisted in pain. He was shaking, looking at the body infront of him with a sense of stunning realization. Time caught up to him and the room realigned in his vision. He closed his eyes to collect himself.

He dropped the knife to grab his head.

The woman on the floor continued to cry, hyperventilating as she tried to force words through the gag. You moved over to her and she flinched. She looked to be in her late 20s- not much older than you if you had to guess. You racked your brain for a solution- you couldn’t take off her blindfold because then she would see your faces. If the cops were coming, you didn’t want to involve her with the repercussions of that, especially when The Academy would be involved. Though at the same time, you didn’t want to leave her stranded and tied up in the house with three dead bodies. 

“Um, you guys, the police are here. They just pulled up about 100 meters behind me and are walking to the cabin now,” Seokjin said, “Get out while you can.”

“Shit,” you breathed. You slowly went to grab the rag from the woman’s mouth, and she craned away, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Please get me out of here. Please...” she cried.

“Okay, we will! They can’t hurt you anymore. The police are coming. Just let me untie you first,” you went to undo the rope, but paused, “But when I do I need you to stay calm and leave your blindfold on.”

“L-leave it on?” she asked, head whipping from side to side in her confusion.

“Trust me. If you can’t do that, I can’t untie you.”

“Okay,” she said, weakly.

With one glide of your knife she was free. She touched at the mark at her arm and her face contorted in agony at the burn. You could only imagine her suffering those few days.

“We gotta go!” you called to Yoongi, helping the young woman to her feet, “Now!” 

Yoongi eventually pushed himself off the floor with unstable legs. He reached for a blanket hanging from the back of a chair, and handed it to you. You wrapped it around her as you guided her quickly up the stairs and past the men on the floor.

“Wh-who are you? Oh, god. Where are we going?” she struggled to hold herself up, and you and Yoongi supported most of her weight as you walked through the cabin.

“We’re just going outside,” you finally made it to the front porch, and she flinched when she was met with the night chill. You sat her down. Two drones glided outside and into the trees.

“So what now?” Yoongi whispered uneasily, “Do we just leave her here?”

“He said they’re on their way. She-” in the dark you heard rustling and voices. They weren’t too close, but earshot for you was close enough. You bent to her level, “Hey, the police are almost here. We’re gonna leave. Just...don’t uncover your eyes until we do.”

“Wait, no where am I? Don’t leave,” she pleaded.

“We’re just on the porch. We have to. I’m sorry.”

She moved her head to follow your voices, “Thank you. Thank you so much-”

“I see it!” called an officer in the distance.

With a final rub to her shoulder, you and Yoongi jumped off the porch and bolted into the dark forest. Looking back, you saw a group of officers run to the porch to assess her. She had taken off her blindfold and was looking around in a daze.

More officers were coming, and you both tried to run in silence while not being seen by their flashlights. You could barely see your hand in front of your face, the moon above your only guide. You ran hard, trying to not bump into trees while also checking the constellations above for the right directions.

Suddenly a flashlight crossed your vision, and Yoongi yanked you behind a tree. 

You worked to catch your breath and listened for the officers to pass.

“Are we going the right way?” you whispered to him. He didn’t answer, instead looking at you with the same spacey, glazed stare from earlier, “What? And what the hell was that about back there anyway?”  

“You saved my life…” he responded, his voice dreamy. His eyebrows joined together, relaying a focus that he didn’t seem to have. He seemed far away, but appeared to truly see you for the first time all night. 

“Yeah, but Yoongi that wasn’t the question.” 

Using his grip on your arm, he pulled you into him. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy, hard kiss. His hand went to tangle in your hair, knuckles meeting the root. You fought to understand in your haze. He grabbed your waist and tugged your body closer. You could feel the metal of the knives on his belt at your stomach, and it snapped you back.

You pushed his hand down and moved your face away.

“Yoongi, wh-”

 Just then, there was a whiz above your heads as a drone flew above and past you. Both of you watched as it disappeared in the direction of Seokjin’s car. You met eyes again, but this time his expression mirrored the panic you felt. 

“Oh no...” he muttered.

You didn’t want to think too much, only make it back to the car. If you really assessed the situation in your head, you knew you’d crumble. 

You burst out running again, following the drone all the way until you saw the road. It was lit with shining police lights, and you finally saw the van hidden in the line of trees far ahead. When you reached it, you yanked open the door and threw yourselves inside.

“Finally!” Seokjin put the car in drive and whipped the wheel back out onto the road. As he fiddled with the navigation, you watched for any differences in his behavior. He sighed, “That was not supposed to happen.”

“What?” you blurted.

“What? The girl! Was she okay?”

“Okay? No. But the police got her,” you groaned, remembering, “The police. We called the fucking police to the sight of our mission.”

The Academy's Cleanup Crew always came after your missions to get rid of the mess and any evidence the squad may have left behind. The targets always simply “disappeared”. So calling the police to the scene before Cleanup could handle it was a nightmare in it’s own.

“I know, I know. It seems bad and it’s going to be a headache for me later but we had to do it for her. The Academy will probably have to make contact with local law enforcement again to cover our tracks, but they shouldn’t get her involved too much.”

“I really hope so,” you said.

“She...didn’t see you right?” he asked. You shook your head, “Good. That would have been a whole other problem.”

You used the rearview mirror to look at Yoongi. He was expressionless, and Seokjin followed your gaze, “Yoongi, you okay back there? Back at the mission…” you held your breath, “...it seemed like you lost focus. It was a bit of an...overkill, you think?”

You could tell Seokjin was trying to tread lightly. Though you wondered the same, as neither had seen such pointed aggression and bloodlust on a mission. Killing was always matter of fact- one and done. Never something to revel and bask in for too long.

“I just forgot where I was. That’s all,” was his reply.

The landscape turned into city, and Seokjin cursed when he saw his gas was low. He pulled into a dim gas station, and fiddled with a screen on a computer. It showed the woods and the cabin, and you watched as you stormed in after Yoongi kicked open the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just making sure the drones picked up and recorded the feed from the mission,” Seokjin responded, absentminded as he clicked around.

“You recorded it?” you tried to remain calm, but you heard your voice climb an octave, “I thought you just watched in the moment.”

“Yeah I do but I can’t catch everything.”

“So...do you record with all of the drones?”

He snorted, “Duh, I use them to track patterns for my logs, you know that. And with the police involved this time, this footage will be really useful to me and The Academy later.” 

“Of course,” you said, “Jin, I really need to be back home soon, could we hurry.”

He gave you a look, “Uh, sure.”

Seokjin got out to pump the gas and you looked between him and the monitor. 

“Hey! While you’re out, could you go inside the convenience store and get me some chips or something. I’m really hungry.”

He scoffed “Who do you think I am? No. Get it yourself.”

“Please! You’re already outside. The mission took a lot out of me. I didn’t eat all day,” you begged, “Please, I’ll love you forever.”

He took a deep breath, “What flavor?”

“Surprise me.”

He muttered to himself as he walked toward the store. You shot to action, pulling down any tabs to find the right button. 

“Fuck, do you think he saw us?” Yoongi leaned on your seat to get a view of the screen.

“I doubt it. He’s acting too normal.”

“Try that tab!” he reached over you, pointing. Your unease mounted with every word and direction he gave you, “No, not that one! Okay, try that one. Shit, he’s paying at the counter, hurry-”

“Yoongi!” you exploded, “Shut the fuck up!”

“I’m trying to help-”

“You did enough, don’t you think?! Jesus, just...I’ve got it! Give me a break. For fuck’s sake!” 

He sat back down. After exhausting your options, you found a video file with the day’s date on it. You hit ‘Delete all’ and suddenly the video on the screen disappeared. You checked the trash and found nothing. You went to any other obvious folders in the confusing layout of his computer and came up empty.

You looked up to see Seokjin walking towards the car and you quickly restarted the laptop. 

He opened the door and dropped two bags into your lap, “I didn’t know if you liked sour cream and onion or honey butter so I got both. Hey, what happened to my computer?”

“Thanks! Oh, it just restarted out of nowhere. It said something about needing an update and then just turned off.”

“What? No…” when it rebooted he went to his files. He searched in silence for a bit, face etched in confusion, “No, no, no. The footage from today’s mission is gone!”

“Huh? How?” you feigned, going to check for yourself.

“How does that even happen? I was sure I had it saved.”

“Damn, I’m sorry,” you said, “Is that the only copy you have?”

“Unfortunately. This day couldn’t get any worse.” 

He pulled off from the gas station and continued back to the city. The whole time, ranting about his shitty computer and The Academy needing to give him another version. You grunted in agreement, and Yoongi remained silent the rest of the ride home. 

___________________

After dodging her for months, it finally happened.

She couldn’t be more ecstatic when you said you were free for the night, jumping into action immediately with ideas of how to spend your time. It wasn’t like you had much else to do. 

A few days had passed since the last mission in the woods, and you’d like to think you were doing a good job avoiding your squad members. You didn’t have anything against all of them, but being in their presence after the night you had was the last thing you wanted. It was rare to not hang out at least every other day, but the time alone was needed. You saw them in class and went straight home after despite their questions and protests. More and more unread and unanswered texts were piling up in your phone. You knew everything was alright- if they really needed you, you would know. You knew them too well.  According to the text previews, you picked up that they went to grab drinks at the bar about an hour ago. A part of you wished you had gone, but the other knew the break was needed. So on this break, you finally gave Luna a shot. Spending the entire evening with the girl you hadn’t had a conversation longer than 5 minutes with was beyond your comfort zone. 

Luna’s idea was to bake dessert. Consequently, you spent the time shuffling around each other in the small kitchen as she led the whole operation. She did most of the work, and you handed her ingredients as she rattled off. You learned that she was an Environmental Sustainability major. You honestly felt bad. You had been living with the girl for months and didn’t even know what she was going to school for. 

You also learned that she really wasn’t that bad. She talked a lot, but she seemed to mean well. She was an only child like you, was allergic to cats, and hated the head cell biology professor with a passion. When you were both sitting on the living room floor borderline wine drunk and stuffed on cake, she only got more animated.

“He’s the worst! I kid you not, he almost made me drop out!” she cried. Her face was getting redder with every sip.

“Was he just a hard grader?” you laughed.

“Yeah but he also had the nerve to lecture and not share the slides online! If you missed 3 classes you just failed. He would embarrass you if you missed an answer,“ she counted off with her fingers. “Just trash!”

“He had the coffee breath too, right?”

She pointed at you, “Yes! The coffee breath! How could I forget that?! He made me want to break his nose then my own. Wait, did you have him too? What class?”

You shook your head. It felt a bit heavier than usual in your tipsiness, “I didn’t, but my friend Jin did and he said the same thing.”

“Ah, he’s in that group of guys you always hang out with, right?” you nodded, “How did you guys become friends? I’ve always wondered that.”

You shifted“I don’t know, we’ve just known each other for a really long time. We went through our more formative years together and just never let the other go.” 

It may have been the wine, but you felt a pang of regret for ignoring them. Maybe you were doing too much. 

“How can you stand being around them all day? They’re all so...hot,” she said, “You’ve never dated any of them before? Hooked up with them? None of them?”

“N-no, nothing like that. I can’t.”

“You can't?” She raised her brow, smirking, “Ah, so you would if you could?”

“No! They’re like my best friends, I couldn’t do it.”

“Not even the angry looking one that slept over that time?”

You stiffened, “You know about that?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t know it was a secret. I just saw him leaving one morning and assumed you were dating or something.”

“No, no, it’s not a secret or anything like that,” you rushed, “He had to sleep over because of the bad rain the night before. We’re just friends but its…”

“Complicated?” she asked.

“I mean...,” you laughed, “we’re just not really talking right now. But we’re still just friends.”

She tilted her head, looking at you with a wistful smile, “It's obvious they mean a lot to you.”

“They do. I couldn’t make it without them.”

Luna reached out to twirl a strand of hair between her fingers. Her gaze was suddenly intense as she held your eyes, “________, you’re a beautiful independent woman. You can make it without a man.” 

Her stare was unnerving. The stoniness in her voice made a chill run up your back.

“I know, I’m just saying,” you turned your face away, laughing to hide your discomfort.

Your phone buzzed against your lap and you gave in to check. You wish you hadn’t.

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

Yoongi: you home?

              I know you see my messages

              don’t ignore me

You: why what do you want?

Yoongi: I’m coming by

You: again, why?

Yoongi: I just want to talk

              Pls

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

You put your phone back down and sighed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right? The friend I’ve been avoiding is coming over and it looks like I can’t put it off anymore. I’m sorry...”

Luna pouted, “Ah, I see. Well it’s okay. It was fun to hang out while we could.”

You nodded, “Yeah, this was pretty great.”

There was a knock on the door. It was sooner than you expected. You pushed yourself off from the floor and went to the door. Yoongi stood on the other side, hands in his pockets and looking unusually hesitant.

You didn’t spare eye contact or words as you waved him in.

“Hey!” Luna waved from her spot on the floor. She gave you a knowing look.

You cleared your throat, “Luna, this is Yoongi. You met him before.”

Yoongi gave a tight smile, “Hi.”

“Ah, right! I’ve seen you around before. I went to your apartment that one time, right?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Um, yeah, that was my place.”

You led Yoongi back to your room and Luna called after him, “Nice to see you again!”

When you closed the door there was an expected silence. You turned to really look at him for the first time. His eyes were glassy and his entire face was tinted-red. You realized he reeked of alcohol. 

You looked him up and down, “Jesus, are you drunk? Do the boys know you’re over here?”

He just shook his head as he walked to your bed. He didn’t usually drink much, and when he did he was always one to at least act the most sober. 

He tossed himself across the mattress, putting an arm over his eyes. He tapped the space next to him, an invitation. You placed your phone on your desk and sat on the edge of the bed. You contemplated calling one of the boys to come get him, but you knew all the questions would be redirected to you. 

“What did you want to talk about, Yoongi?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I just want to stay like this for a while.”

You stared at him, but he stayed still. You went to stand up, and his free hand went to wrap around your waist, pulling you to lay beside him. 

You were pressed against his body and began to push away despite how good him and his sweater felt against you, “We shouldn’t do this. You said you wanted to talk, so what?”

“Please,” he breathed, “Just stay.”

You relaxed, giving in only for a bit. He held on tight, arm still firm around you. You suddenly became aware of the state the wine had left you in. You were doing a better job of holding yourself together than him, but having his arms around you mixed with your own looseness was a combo your subconscious was too eager to accept. His breathing was steady as your ear rested on his chest, and after a while you thought he had fallen asleep. The ceiling fan whooshed above you, and as you waited the hypnotic spin made you lose track of time.

  His voice broke the hush of the room.

“I’m so sorry, ______.”

“You gotta be more specific.”

“I meant what I said. I forgot where I was.”

“Yoongi, I can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that’s never been us. You know that,” you gulped, “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” you repeated.

 “I don’t. I went too far. I feel like...like I left myself,” he said in a low voice. Though you were unbearably close, he sounded so far away, “I swear I had no control for the first time ever. It was wrong. I know that. I couldn’t stop.”

“But...why?”

 “I just lost sight of the mission. I put you in a bad place and you had to pick up the slack for my psychotic break, or whatever the hell that was, and I feel like shit for it. Hell, you had to save my life because I couldn’t fucking handle myself,” his voice broke as he desperately pushed the words out. “And the kiss,” he groaned. “I fucked up so bad. And you handled that too. It was a close call and it was all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. But I want to thank you for stopping me.”

It wasn’t lost on you that he didn’t really answer your question. In all of your years of knowing each other, you never knew him to be someone to lay his heart and regrets plain out on display for just anyone. Whether it was the alcohol or sheer pain that drove him to it, you didn’t know, but it was unsettling. You just wanted to know why. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that.”

“I deserved every bit of that and more. I didn’t hold up my end at all, I just made problems.”

“I meant what I said earlier too, you know.”

“What?”

Your arms went to wrap around his waist before you could stop yourself. He relaxed in your arms and you couldn’t let go. 

“Back in the forest. I’m still here if you need to talk, you know. We’re friends after all, Yoongi. I just don’t want you to hold that shit in if you don’t have to,” you moved your head to look up at him.

A painful smile made its way to him.

Yoongi went to nuzzle his nose in your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed until he whined.

“I wanna stay like this forever.”

You went stiff, “Forever? You know we...can’t.”

“I can dream can’t I?” 

He didn’t seem to get it. If in his dreams he saw you being this way forever, he was more far gone than you believed.

He looked you over again, “You don’t want this forever?”

There was such sadness in his glazed eyes, it would hurt you too to say what you should have said. Instead you stayed quiet.

“I know it's wrong, I know there are rules, but I like us this way.”

“Don’t…”

“Why?” it was his turn to ask, lips grazing your warm neck.

“You know why...we just can’t.”

“But you like to be with me like this too, right?”

You didn’t even have to ask what “like this” meant.

“I don’t think either of us are in the right head space to make that call.”

“Beyond the fucking. This is something we can do more. Hell, is it so wrong to want to hold you?”

“It-it just blurs the lines even more,” you stammered when his nose traced your collarbone.

“Screw the blurred lines. Screw The Academy. I like us like this, _____. And secretly, I think you do too.”

You felt yourself short-circuiting, “I think the lines are important because without them I can’t understand what this is.”

He stopped to search your face again, “Well what do you understand?”

His eyes were so deep. When you answered you were trapped in them, “That I like this more than I should.”

When the answer left you, there was a curse in your sober subconscious. Though seeing his face soften from the wounded mask he wore earlier almost made you forgive yourself. Almost.  

It happened slowly, unlike the others. You watched each other, letting your words hang in the air before the other moved. You were the first to close the distance, Yoongi soon followed. When your lips met in the middle there was no rushed crash, no hurry driven by lust. He held your cheek in the most gentle way. Your lips pressed against his, and for the first time there was no fight for dominance. Your hand went to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer in your already tight position. He rolled himself over you, holding himself up with both hands on either side of your head. Yoongi looked you over for a second before dipping his lips back to yours. 

You rolled over again, your knees on either side of his torso as you straddled him. You grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him again. His hands went to your back, skin burning under his fingertips. You went to grab at the bottom of your shirt, and he stopped you.

“You don’t have to, you know?” he said, eyes searching yours.

“But I want to.”

He moved his hand and you raised your huge t-shirt above your head and discarded it onto the floor.

The look he gave you was one of such unfiltered admiration it scared you. His gaze raked across your naked upper body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he proclaimed in such a way your face became hot. 

He pulled you down to him again. His large hands traced up your thigh slowly, making you remember your revealing shorts. His touch lit a flame under your skin wherever he touched. Though it wasn’t entirely desire that you felt. This was different. Something that made your chest feel warm and butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach. 

“Was that the front door?” he suddenly asked.

“No,” you quickly dismissed him, groaning when his lips went back to your neck. The growing wetness in your panties was a distraction, but you tried your best to listen through your labored breaths.

He sighed, the puff tickling the sensitive skin. He whispered, nearly soundless “Shit...I just like you so much.”

You froze. 

You slowly pushed yourself up. Looking down at him, even through the alcohol he seemed to know he had crossed a line.

“You what?”

_________________

When Jungkook left the bar with the others, he was surprisingly sober. He had downed 3 beers and a tequila shot without an issue and was actually disappointed. Getting wasted would have been nice considering the trash week of classes he was having and not remembering the grade he just got on his last quiz would have been the cherry on top. 

“What’s been going on with him anyways? You all noticed, right?” Hoseok asked, arm around Namjoon’s shoulder.

“How could we not? He barely said shit the whole night,” Jimin said, “How do you get shitfaced and then get up and leave? That’s just sad.”

“Did he even say where he was going?” Taehyung asked.

“No, but it's not like we have to worry about him handling himself.”

“I should check on him,” Namjoon said, “He’s been acting off for almost a week.”

“Check on _____ while you’re at it. She’s been off too.”

“You sure she’s not just finally tired of us? I wouldn’t blame her,” Seokjin said.

The others were making their way back home and Jungkook stopped to linger on the sidewalk. If he continued down this street and made a right, he’d be at your place, he noted. He suddenly remembered what you owed him.

“What?” Taehyung burped.

“You can go back, I’ll catch up later. ________’s still got my baby.”

“Whatever,” he gave a peace sign and ran to catch up to the rest.

 As Jungkook walked under the dim street lights, he couldn’t help but wonder about you. After Yoongi left the bar, Seokjin had told them that the last mission was a rough one, partially because of Yoongi. This wasn’t new though, you had all seen your fair share of fucked up shit over the years. So it didn’t make sense for you to ignore everyone for days on end over it.

He looked at the texts he had sent you. None of them were opened.

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

Jungkook: Stop ignoring me I’m coming over rn

                  U better be home

                   If not im breaking in 😜

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

When he finally made it to your place, he pounded on the door. When it opened he readied to walk in, but he stopped when he saw the person on the other side.

“Hi?” Luna asked.

Jungkook forgot she lived there too, “‘Sup?”

“Oh, you’re _________’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, is she here?”

“Yeah, come in,” Luna stepped aside as Jungkook took his shoes off, leaving them beside a pair that was too big for either of the girls that lived there. He didn’t notice, “She might be a little busy though.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows joined in confusion. Like that actually mattered to him, “Uh, okay? Where is she?”

Luna pointed down the hall, “Back in her room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Luna went back to her own room and Jungkook followed her directions down the dark hallway. He had to stop himself from salivating as he pictured what was soon to be his. He seized the handle of your door and thrust it forward.

“Ha! Can’t ignore me now, can you?”

He blinked a few times thinking something would change. In the time void the bedroom had become, everything stayed the same. 

You were still mounting Yoongi. 

Yoongi still held a handful of your ass. 

Your bodies were still entangled in the sheets. 

You were still topless. 

The scene never changed. 

But Jungkook wished it had. 

Previous     Next

_________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading like always! Feel free to lmk your thoughts 👀

[thats-a-real-mood]

1.)Supernatural cast interviews

2.)Supernatural 15x20 live blogging

Start here for #1

The road so far.. sad and so many memories

So far a giant recap with the actor past and present.

Wow Mary’s death

Dads on a hunting trip...and he hasn’t been home in a few days

So far 3 min and it’s one of the promos and the starting point.

The Winchester brothers

The Junkyard dog

Bobby was there dad in all but blood.

The brotherly love

So far I was correct about the first half was just a interviews things with the actors and not part of the actual episode.

I wish it really would have been a true 2 hour episode. They could have keep the interviews as an extra or as a 3rd hour.

Earth angels

Here is Anna

“You can have angels, just make them dicks.”

Monster moments

King of the Crosswords

“Making our enemy’s our friends”

“Crowleys the creepy uncle you avoid at thanksgiving.”

Angel in disguise

“He is the third brother.” -Jensen

“Finding love and acceptance in a human family” -Misha

The Power of Myth

Supermeta

Brought up French mistake

Changing channels

Scoobynatural

Heart & soul

Baby

Distinguished Guests

The Voice of God

SpellBound

The Greater Good

Rising son

Courage under Fire

Resurrection

Last supper

I fucking hate John Winchester

So far nothing about destiel has been mentions and this first part is almost over. So either they are gonna give us more in the actual episode or nothing.

Team Free Will

The Final episode

Misha hoping we feel satisfied with this episode.

“The people we really have to satisfy is us, the writers, and these characters.”

This makes me worried for our destiel finale

Everyone is making things feeling satisfing and making me feel guilty. If we don’t get the ending we want, they at least want to know how hard they worked but we still are very iffy with this.

2 mins this the episode.

Start here for #2 (episode time)

-Back of the car shot and the end shot of previous episodes. Love that.

-dean got a dog and has at least 5 bottles of alcohol in his room.

Sam have a run. Being domestic and stuff (trying to keep going with everything and not think about it?)

Sam kicking the washer for the noise

>okay so the montage was very domestic and nice but underwhelming tbh

Title card-

Okay driving up and dean crying. This is his “destiny.....”

Pie feast

He’s crying and Sam is sad at seeing a happy family.

Here’s the pie promo

Cas,Jack (first mention) chick flick moment

Sam puts pie in deans face and background guy laughs

Oh shit. Shadow in window. First five minutes of supernatural. Ooo nvm he dead

Face mask guys

Creepy mask dude

Kids gonna get pulled out from under the bed

Yep I was right

-singer and kripke were the alias’s

Tree scene

Vamp mimes... wow dean

Oh shit again

Damn dean just off with the head. No checking. And Sam just shot the dude. Knee and assuming the head.

Headshot so it is a vamp?

Wow I forgot how psychopathic these brothers are. Hunting knife or a head chop?

We are now at the barn.

Aw let dean have this throwing star

This does not look like the barn that cas come to in season 4

2 vs 4 they gonna lose. Wow there’s that promo shot.

>Almost twenty minutes in and only one mention of cas. We did have that blue tie of cas’s that dean wore but like? Does that actually count?

>This seems like it’s just gonna be another filler episode that supernatural does.

Kool machete fight

Wow a chick vamp?

Jenny? That “vamp” they saved? Gonna have to research her again? Wasn’t she the one that they tried to keep from vamping?

Shit I saw that stab thing being out of the wall and then dean got pushed onto it.

Dean is gonna die. Are you kidding me?! Your gonna leave Sam all alone after EVERY THING THEY JUST WENT THROUGH?!

Please don’t do this. No dean don’t.

>30 more minutes and ????

Saving people, hunting things

Please mention cas, please

Proud big brother Dean Winchester

Come on, dean. Aw man mentioning the Woman in White

He was so scared of being told to leave or die by Sam.

Man come on. Your pulling a jack now. First cas, then jack and now dean is gone.

Wow you get a great morning and then bam

He’s gone.

>No mention of cas? Thirty/twenty minutes left? How are they ending this?

>I don’t understand. They said there wasn’t gonna be any ambiguity about their love..? I’m Confused.

>did I miss something?

Sam is giving dean his hunter funeral with deans dog..

Wow this is so different compared to this earlier morning montage

The table shot with the carved names

Sam wandering to deans room..

Who is calling dean?

Agent bonjovie?

Oh another case.

Life goes on? He’s just gonna take the case? Werewolf?

>twenty minutes left and we just saw the lights go off in the bunker...

Okay wtf deans alive?

Heaven?

AHAHAHAHEKENE BOBBY!!!

Omfg jack saved Bobby?????

Akejeijwebwj this is what I wanted!! The hunters and eveyone dean loves being together in heaven. Ash and Pamela, the ROADHOUSE, cas??? What? How did cas help? What?

Almost perfect? Sam? Coming up here? To heaven? Cas? Whooo??

Everything u want or could ever dream? Find cas? Ride in baby?

>10 minutes

Carry on is playing

Sam had a child and named him dean..?

Who?

He got out of the life!

Sam with his child....

>You did Sam dirty making him look old like that. Wth kind of wig is that????

>Did they even bother with some makeup to make him look older? It’s literally Jared in a grey wig that remind me of spirit Halloween or Walmart Halloween wigs.

Sams child with the demon tattoo. Does his child know of monsters or just cause his dad has it did Sam do it as a precaution?

Wow

“Dean. It’s okay. You can go now”

“Dad. It’s okay. You can go now.”

Carry on my wayward son cover is beautiful

>come on please give us something of destiel? A bridge scene? A confession here? Please??

Sams in heaven now and literally cas and jack was only mentioned twice.

>extremely disappointed but not surprised tbh.

>the thank you at the end is nice.

>why was I expecting and hoping and wanting for this for so long and I’m honestly so tired that they couldn’t give us this small thing. This could have gone down in tv history if they have given a resiprical confession from dean but they just.... couldn’t.

So last episode: a good heaven for dean, with Sam got to love old and got o and named his child dean. aTLEAST IT WASNT CAS. Total of TWO mentions to Cas And jack.

[hyperfixateandchill]

aaand because I can’t stop thinking about it i’ve written down my ranking of post-finale deancas scenarios including a non-exhaustive list of pros and cons for each. read on at your own discretion.

1st place: Deancas open up the new Roadhouse. My personal favorite because, again, Dean’s canon dream. I think Dean would LOVE running his own bar and playing host and serving people food and drinks is basically his love language. Cas isn’t as into the bar vibe specifically but he enjoys seeing people come and go and getting to know the locals who come by and just being with Dean. They get to stay connected to the hunting world without being actual hunters which is probably the perfect win win situation for them.

Other Pros of the Bar scenario (i’ve thought about this a lot): Claire and Kaia come by increasingly often to visit until eventually Claire basically works part-time at the Roadhouse when she’s not off hunting and Dean starts only semi-ironically calling it the “family business.” Claire puts up pride flag stickers on the front door and Dean makes a thing of it at first but then warms up to the idea. People start catching on and now local queer people will come from several towns over to visit the bar because there aren’t exactly that many queer friendly spaces in their corner of Kansas. Then it’s pride month and Claire and Kaia secretly update the bar’s online info to explicitly draw in queer customers and on the evening of the nearest pride march the bar is PACKED with all the local gays and Cas has the pop music blaring and he will NOT let Dean change it but it’s ok because Dean’s made friends with a drag queen who’s a professional comedian and now they’re comparing calendars to see when she might be able to come do a set at the Roadhouse and basically their bar is now a gay bar. “LGBT friendly”, Dean insists, because 1. he’s not gay and 2. he still caters to the local straights and the hunters. but now hunters come in and end up sitting 2 stools away from a flamboyant!gay and some are slightly weirded out but most don’t care at all and all of them end up making some kind of comment about how they’d heard about Dean Winchester and his angel... guess it’s true huh? And Dean shoots them a cocky grin and says ‘yep’ but he still holds to the rule that pop music is only allowed on tuesdays and thursdays and maybe very late at night on the weekends when everybody’s drunk and dancing. The Roadhouse is a second home to Dean and it’s the perfect mix of middle american dive, hunter’s hangout and lgbt space, and that’s literally DEAN so it’s perfect and he gets to work with his family by his side and be a part of a community (or several) and he feels useful and happy.

Cons of the Bar scenario: Doesn’t work great with having a small child or hobbies. very long hours and unusual work schedule. would encourage Dean’s drinking habit. I.e. it might be more intense than some alternatives (unless the bar is more cafe/diner during the day and Claire/Kaia/whatever other youngins can mind the place on their own if deancas aren’t in and the bar is located quite close to their house to they can come and go).

Overall works pretty well for a more active/energetic take on deancas’s lives post-finale. 8/10

2nd place: Mix of mechanic!Dean and retired!deancas. Dean’s never had a proper job before or much of a social circle who aren’t hunters, so I find it hard to imagine Dean working at an autoshop and playing mr. normie with his coworkers. Same with Cas and a regular job.

What I can imagine, however, is Dean having his own small business where he fixes up old cars (for like, vintage car enthusiasts). It starts as a hobby but then he realizes people would pay him to do it so now it’s a business. Deancas obviously have a a house on a big plot of land near the woods and a lakeside, so there’s plenty of outdoor space for him to set up a small shop and most of his customers call ahead so he doesn’t have people just coming in anyway. The work is not quite enough to pay all the bills but again, Charlie’s magic credit card, so who cares. Cas gardens and beekeeps and occasionally sells the extras at the local farmer’s market. Dean cooks and fishes and uses Cas’s ingredients whenever possible. They spend their days on their own property, doing their hobbies on their own time and making enough money from them that they don’t feel useless and still have plenty of time left to get over-involved in Jack’s pta. It’s a very calm, contented life. the millennial hipster dream, fulfilled by two 40-some year old dads.

Pros: deancas getting to spend their days doing what they love, being ridiculously domestic and married (even if they’re not officially married), both being absolute malewives in their own ways and it’s disgustingly sweet.

Cons: this scenario doesn’t have quite as much excitement and opportunity for shenanigans as the bar scenario. Less connection to a community, more living like hermits. Dean might appreciate the more social atmosphere of a bar. Cas might be equally happy either way, but he’d probably like having Claire help them out at the bar so that’s a plus for him.

Overall a good scenario for a more placid semi-retired life. 7/10

3rd place: a bait and switch. Cas is the one who ends up still having something you could call a ‘job’, Dean is the househusband. It starts with deancas still helping saileen with HOL (hunters of letters) stuff but eventually Dean is very decided that he wants out now that things are in good hands. Cas agrees with him but still consults with the hol network since he’s got all that lore knowledge. Dean very occasionally helps with research/strategy for a hunt but that’s IT no more hunting for him, and so it ends up that Cas still comes by the bunker fairly often and works from home the rest of the time on research and translations etc and Dean’s 100% amateur chef-in-training and papa bear because now nobody can look down on him for being a housewife (or nobody he gives a shit about anyway) so he’s gone all in. and whenever he comes by the bunker these days is after he’s picked up Jack from school and he comes to join their family to cook them all dinner while they finish up the work.

Pros: love me a Dean who’s gotten over his hypermasculinity and is now comfortable with doing whatever he likes even if (sometimes specially if) that thing is considered stereotypically feminine. It’s his big fuck you to his dad and it’s the life mary had wanted when she was young and dean is mary and therefore he’s honoring her memory when he spends his days on a bright airy kitchen making lunch for his 4 year old and waiting for his ex-soldier husband he adores to come home and doing not one bit of hunting. except dean never had to lie about his past and cut ties with his hunter family to get this. which is why this time for him it works, when it didn’t for mary or sam. love that energy.

Cons: Dean is not in fact just a malewife and would probably still want some more action in his life. might feel kinda useless with Cas having a ‘thing’ to do when he doesn’t. Cas would be perfectly happy regardless though.

Overall heartwarming and sweet but not as realistic: 6/10

4th: Disheveled-magic-shop-owner!Cas (+ Sam and Dean). Just thought of this. Cas knows his shit about spell ingredients and magical objects and supernatural weapons, probably more than even Sam. And Cas gardens. And Cas most likely enjoys pinterest and mom blogs and finds out about etsy... So Cas may or may not start growing/hoarding specific goods he knows are useful in the hunting world. at first it’s just to help HOL out but eventually Dean realizes like... we could profit off of this? And Cas eye-rolls because he doesn’t care but then again he knows his shit so he sets up a poorly-designed website to sell hunting stuff. and maybe Sam goes in on it with him because Sam also knows his shit and it’s kind of cute because they work together and Dean probably does the mechanic/barkeep/househusband thing though he does help with making the special bullets and dropping off parcels at the post office and so on. And maybe eventually they open up a small magic shop where they sell their shit. And maybe the shop is next door to the Roadhouse and it’s all become ‘your one-stop shop for everything a hunter might need’ (and you know the gays like their new age shit too so it all works), and the bunker isn’t even far away either and all three business are interconnected, the ‘family business’ that AU John Winchester of Hunter Corp wished he’d created.

Pros: Cas gets to do a thing he’s knowledgeable and passionate about and Deancas get to leave hunting while staying adjacent to the community. Cas as a disheveled shopkeep who’s not particularly nice to customers but who provides them with insights and mysterious comments that make people certain he must be legit.

Cons: Cas using his knowledge of the supernatural to profit off of hunters sounds too capitalist and not very Cas-like. He would be the type to gladly give people stuff for free and methinks that Dean and Sam would feel that way too. Cas helping with HOL stuff is basically established in options 1-3 already and so is him gardening for potentially useful ingredients. He doesn’t need to sell this stuff in a shop.

Overall makes sense theoretically but doesn’t vibe well for me. 5/10

5th: full on retirees, doing basically the same things as no 2 except with maybe some more travelling and less caring about making money from any of it.

Pros: the “and they lived happily ever after” they deserve after all the shit they’ve been through.

Cons: boring. uneventful. Dean and Cas are still quite young and neither’s had a chance at something even resembling a normal life for more than a couple of months at a time. They should get more of a middle aged married life experience before moving on to full retirement.

Overall valid but less interesting: 4/10

6th: Cas gets a job at a local library or shop, Dean is either a mechanic or a househusband. To preface, if Cas were to get a job out there in the world, my favorite would be like a magic shop or a bookshop with *unique* books. But I find that unlikely unless Cas is running his own shop (see 4th place for that). So here we’re talking about a regular normie shop.

Pros: Cas has a job he likes and feels useful in? And he’s not completely tied down to Dean all the time (though not sure that counts as a pro). More of the ‘normal life’ vibes.

Cons: Cas working at a random bookstore or library or shop or whatever would be passably interesting but not as fulfilling or useful or fun as any of the other options.

Overall valid but not interesting or all that heartwarming. 2/10

6th: deancas don’t know any life outside of hunting so they keep on doing it, except now with lower stakes than before and they go on less actual hunts.

pros: umm... consistency? they keep working closely with saileen and the new hunters who start coming by/moving into the bunker.

cons: everything. Dean’s wanted out and he should get it. Cas literally died several times over and he should get to experience a human life with the man he loves and not just do more dangerous shit.

Overall a terrible idea. 1/10 (because 0/10 would be the Cas never comes back and Dean dies and goes to heaven scenario)

[valerianka-97]

Twisted, tangled, wicked, sick.

... That is how I felt when I actually finished that article. Heaven help me...

The 12th of July is the beginning of a new era for gothic rock trio from Massachusetts - PVRIS.

Last Friday the band introduced to the world their debut single "Death Of Me" from an upcoming third album. They also released a thrilling music video for the song.

New sound, same energy.

Death Of Me was supposed to be a new rock hit but surprisingly turned out to be the dance hit instead. Many fans were confused, some were in panic that the band switched to another genre, others were slightly shocked. But everyone agreed that the song with the video alongside are something out of this world.

Evolution of sound isn't surprising, the frontwoman Lynn Gunn is known to collaborate with pop and dance artists such as Seven Lions, TBMA and some others, so the electronics that fully replased live instruments is something we could see coming.

Anyways, the band is staying true to themselves, judging by the themes and overall vibe of their new song.

Death Of Me definitely has strong old-PVRIS vibes: the lyrics are still dark and sinister and the video is moody and ominous.

In the song Lynn tells us the story of obsessive love. Obsessive, passionate and dangerous love. Or dedication. It's still a mystery whether she's referring to her love relationship or to something else. Gunn likes to hide things in plane sight, so her love life would've been too easy to refer. The song kinda reminds me of Florence & The machine's Pure Feeling, in which Florence Welch speaks about her dedication to fans and vice versa. The metaphor fits just right to that theory.

Let's speak straightforward here, fans are the best promotion machine of any artist. We can suffocate or let them breath, we can literally be the death of them, because fans are the ones who put an artist on a pedestal and fans can kick them back down. It also reminds me of something else. Something more important and global. But I will leave that thoughts for later in the article.

The music video here is another story but also is an adding to that theory. I'll talk about it more below.

First, let's take a closer look at all the mysteries in the vid.

The biblical theme is the one we notice first of all, it's very simple, and there is a reason of that obviousness. While fans are building logical connections with the first visual metaphor of the seduction of Eve by the devil in a snake's appearance with the song lyrics and then enjoying passionate sequences and the cult initiation, the most interesting metaphors are carefully hidden. The devil is in the details, guys.

The storyline of the video is built on hidden metaphors. Some of them may or may not be intentional, maybe I just built logical connections where there is none but you surely will find my observations interesting.

The seduction and the forbidden fruit are not the only symbols from the Bible. We can see the new members of cult going through initiation. But have you noticed that all of them are of different races? There are black people, asians and white people. It got to me when I wondered about the symbolism of the pyramid formed by the cultists with our trio in the heart of it - which is also may be symbolic and may represent the three ascendants of Noah (or is it too complicated? It may be unintentional). Here we've got the Tower of Babel metaphor.

Next on - the red aquarium. I've already said in a comment section for the video on YouTube that aquarium represents the falling of Adam and Eve from heaven. It's a small piece but key one, keep that in mind.

Now, remember the line in the song "I'm falling, fading, and seeing angels". This line is not just the reference to Demon Limbs. Everyone has noticed that the band made a colorful music video. And the colors in it were not chosen randomly. The band and everyone in the sequence dressed in white instead of classical culty black wearing. Knowing of the falling from heaven metaphor in the video and connecting it to the line from the song we've got our "angels" Lynn talks about. And that's not all of it.

The Tower of Babel in the Bible is known to represent a kind of an act of rebellion against God. The whole cult sequense symbolizes that at some point. The initiation almost completely recreates the holy communion. This, overall, may represent the creation of the alternative religion as a counterweight to the original one and creating their own kind of heaven on Earth, which for some may look more like hell. But that's, my friends, is parallax. Another reference to song lyrics.

And my favorite metaphor, which is also pretty simple but hidden in plain sight. The whole song with its dark, seductive, even erotic, at some poin, vibes is a hint, not to count pretty obvious visualisations in the video.

Lust. The most pleasant one of all deadly sins. Tangled bodies moving rhythmically to the heartbeat and everyone's in rapture. Passionate, isn't it? I mentioned hell lately on purpose. "One man's hell is another's God, it's all about perspective, a parallax". Lynn Gunn surely knows how to play with words and the visuals.

The storyline starts at the actual end of the music video. Why not the snake sequence? You may ask. In fact, it all begun with a snake and an apple, right?

Like I've said, the colors chosen for the video are not accidental. Red color symbolizes not only passion but also hell. And it is known that Eve was in heaven at the moment of seduction. Which led me to conclusion where the story actually begins. And the pyramid sequence is an actual end (which is to be continued).

The ones, who were fallen and forbidden to come back to heaven gardens for they've sinned, united and built their own garden on Earth and they rule it like God rules heavens.

They've sinned at God's perspective, yet they see it as holy communion from theirs.

Now let's come back to my theory of the song's meaning. Why I think it may be about the fans and something more global.

The first time I've watched and listened to the music video, it kinda reminded me of Britney Spears. Let me explain this absurd. Britney's fame became hell for her in mid-2000's. We all remember that.

That's one piece.

In 2011 Spears released a music video for the song Till The World Ends.

The sequences in that video at some point are repeated in Death Of Me: it caught my attention the second I've seen tangled bodies in a rhytmic movement. In Britney's video the storyline's mostly situated underground, where everyone is dying of the hell of a heat, and the colors in both videos are similar, also the dance-y vibe in the darkness of the underground kinda the same. That's the piece no2.

And the dance with a snake was Britney's most iconic performance back in 200(5?). That's the 3rd one.

Not only the music video led me here. Lynn's "You're a cold-blooded killer only after dark but I don't mind" also reminded me of Britney's song Criminal.

Yes, that all may be just coincidence, because "why the fck Britney Spears? Nothin' in common".

And that's when the song lyrics come up and make sense of all of it. Again, the line about hell in perspective, the line about a noose around Lynn's neck or a poison, the line about danger. I've thought about Britney Spears because she is the best example of what the pressure of huge responsibility for fanbase and fame in general can do to people. Break them, suffocate and be the death of them.

We know that coincidences are not accidental, not with PVRIS. Lynn's metaphors have always been much deeper than it has seemed, so I guess that's a good and well argumented theory.

And don't you think that it's finished. There's more.

Death Of Me also wasn't chosen to be the debut single by accident. From all written above, the song is a perfect metaphor itself for the band's prevous album. All We Know Of Heaven, All We Need Of Hell. Which makes it a great bridge between what we already know and what is soon to be released. My guess is we're about to find out more about heaven and get something else from hell.

I've done pretty heavy work in analyzing everything, and trust me, it was hell. But I enjoyed every hour of it. Twisted, huh?

P. S. While writing a draft to the article I couldn't decide whose name to place in a metaphor with the snake, so at first I wrote "devil's seduction of Eve/Lynn" and accidentally found this strange reference. EVELYNN. Two names, Eve and Lynn, in one Evelynn. And Lynn as Eve in the video. And Evelynn short names are both Eve and Lynn.. Damn, I confused it even more.

Update:

My brain almost exploded yesterday while writing all this. The article is so loaded with information, so I desided not to mention some symbols. Today, as I had a good night of sleep (after very brutal insomnia issues) I realized that the analysis can't be completed without those little details.

The names puzzle above is one of them but I mannaged to put it somehow anyway.

There are several more things to say about symbolism though. One of the them is obvious and everyone noticed it from the start but not everyone is aware of the meaning of that metaphor.

Not all of us know how to read tarot cards, me included. The representation of a tarot card "Three of Swords" - the knives Lynn, Brian and Alex pierced an apple with.

The card's meaning is a heartbreak, sorrow, grief, pain caused by someone's words or actions. It also has a meaning of emotional release and a reminder that the dark clouds building above your head will disappear and take the pain away with it.

The scene of stabbing the apple by the trio most likely symbolizes their expression of that pain and releasing it the moment the apple is pierced.

There is also a colorful symbol which is not that easy to acknowledge but is also put right in front of our sight. I had this thought since the first time I watched the video but didn't bring much attention to it. I came back to it after looking in to flowers handbook.

The flowers on the table in the music video are white lenagolds. Why lenagolds? Why not roses or lilies?

The christian legends say that lenagolds turned up on Earth with the walking of messiah. The Mother's tears that fallen when Jesus carried his cross turned into lenagolds.

Basic meaning of lenagolds is love and devotion. The definition of white lenagolds is sincerity and purity of feelings, loyalty, gratitude and luck.

Note that the flowers laying on the cult's joint table, which also may symbolize the band's devotion and love for the fanbase.

There is another hidden symbol I noticed but didn't manage to solve. Maybe some of you have thoughts on that?

When the cultists stand in two rows facing one another, at first I thought they carried flowers, this scene was really glimpse, so I played it in slow motion. They carried busts.

Not sure what that means, because I can't see whose busts there are, what I'm sure of is that this scene is related to a short shot of a woman's head with bloody tear streaking. Maybe that also reffers to that legend with lenagolds?

Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you made it down here and I didn't waste your time

If you liked it, please reblog. Would be much appreciated!

[prorevenge]

Racist mom tries to bribe son to dump me, I gain power over everything she cares about.

This is gonna be a LONG post lol, may have gotten exact timing sequences out of order.

Met a guy that we had mutual friends with and invited him to hang out with my friends and do fun stuff. Later learned he was not even allowed to hang out with my crowd cuz his mother was the very strict and hypocritical sort who thought everyone else was inferior to her precious kids. Guy was telling them he was doing work or something. Eventually he told them he wanted to date me and they flipped. The dad doesn’t have much say in the house and the mom (EM) was livid.

You know how Amish people don’t like rock and “sinful” music? Or females that wear shorts and tanks? Yuuup basically her. She went through my social medias and literally compiled and printed out giant lists of every country song I’d ever posted or concert I’d been to or clothing she thought was too provocative along and gave it to the pastors at both of our churches. EP called MY mom at 2am a couple times to rant and rave about “how could she let her daughter do such sinful things and flirt with boys yada yada yada”. She made racist remarks to Guy (I’m a super cute half Asian half messican, and all of his family is pale white golden haired angels) and even asked him if I’d molested him (I’m 5’ 2” and he’s literally a foot taller than me) and if that’s why he wanted to date and marry me. He was still at home and they went on a family trip to Colorado. Or as it turned out to be an exorcism style prayer meeting over Guy because EM just knows there must be a demon or something wrong with him. Oh and this was only within a span of a few months while he saved up to move the hell out.

Nope not over yet. EM then was harassing his work, his new church pastors (mine), his friends, got one of his business partners to leave him with lies that Guy is “bipolar” and “Schizophrenic”, thankfully most of the people had our back and we had some good laughs over what outrageous things they told us. Even driving an hour and a half to his apartment (I know dumb move to let them know where he moved to), in the middle of the night a couple times to harass and berate him and blubber about how everyone would judge her and how her reputation was going to suffer and church standing, she even dragged his two younger siblings into it all and told him they were heartbroken that he moved out and all the reasons he needed to move back home. Cue even more fun, one night he was just done so when they showed up to again try and bully him into moving back home or at least dumping me, he just up and left. Got in his mini and drove away. AND THEY FOLLOWED HIM. Unbelievable right? He used to race his mini so he lost them pretty quickly and booked it over to where I lived and spent the night there. I know, why not call the cops right? Well there was no physical damage or threats thereof. Yes she’s been verbally and borderline physically abusive to him growing up, think patriarchy super conservatives but it’s a matriarchy. At one point EM asked Guy what it would take for him to dump me, what amount of money could she pay him (Guys dad makes buttloads of moola, yeah those kind of people) to get me out of his life and for him to move back home. SHE TRIED TO BRIBE HIM TO LEAVE ME. She’d threatened to disown him and all the typical rich EP stuff before and knew he didn’t care. EM even called all his guy friends and asked if Guy has ever had any “homosexual” tendencies etc. Next month Guy proposed, and EM was SO MAD that she heard about it for the first time from a mutual friend congratulating her on the upcoming wedding! So of course she calls all the pastors and REEEEs about how we’ve been living in sin (kicker, we hadn’t even done the dirty dance but she didn’t bother asking) and telling everyone that they shouldn’t attend the wedding etc. Yea call us prudes :p EM also printed out all the reasons why I wasn’t good enough for her son and handed those out like candy to church leaders. Then when that had no effect she switched tactics and did the same thing with all her reasons why he was immature and shouldn’t get married and should move back home and be parented. Still no effect, except my dad at a huge meeting where she tried to distribute those, gathered them all back up and handed them to her and told her to stop slandering us and said how ungodly that was. And she stood there baffled and all the other people present agreed with my dad and told her to put those papers away. EMs exact words “but but I thought the very reason everyone is here is to show Guy why he needs to leave that girl and move back home!” I couldn’t help a giggle and a few other people couldn’t either. That meeting is a whole nother story, it was hilarious.

Where is the revenge you ask? Well all that was just the tip of the iceberg of course, but the revenge has been pretty simple. Spend a few obvious nights (SLEEPING ONLY) at his place, just to trigger her, but ofc our pastors and friends knew we’d committed to abstinence our entire lives up to the wedding (hella yea wedding night was killer) and other things like that to get under her skin but nothing that anyone else thought was bad. Very publicly plan and execute a HUGE wedding (over 500 people) and tell everyone about how our relationship is so beautiful and holy and how Gods destiny brought us together yada yada. She made a couple extra hoops for our pastors but we jumped through them with flying colors and everyone except her thought we were the cutest most Christian kosher thing. So basically to save face she had to fake smile and accept all the congratulations and be secretly embarrassed that we didn’t invite her to the wedding showers (she said she never wanted to see me and wouldn’t go to the wedding) and made excuses as to why she hadn’t gone, EM couldn’t tell her friends that we hadn’t invited her now could she? She went after the best man too and he almost decided against being the best man she was such a hassle and he was a pushover, but I told him the best passive way to deal with her is tell her that he wants to be there for his friend and how could she argue with that? She didn’t. But of course, what’s better than forcing her to attend the wedding but not allowing her to ruin it? Extremely petty I know, but I’m a drama llama and have enjoyed 98% of all this. I of course get ahold of EMs own mom and get to know her and she’s very sweet and loves me to death, along with Guys siblings and his dad, as many of EMs own friends and their families etc. So everyone loves me and when we invite them all to the wedding, they strong arm her into coming. I have my cop friends who have been having a heyday hearing about all this drama coming in for the wedding, one of them I make my MC so if she tried anything, not only would they take care of her swiftly, but she would also deeply embarrass herself because there was no denying that there were 500+ people there who loved Guy and I, including a lot of her friends. The ceremony was great, went off without a hitch, oh wait... I am not a bridezilla so if anything went wrong it was fine and the drama was cracking me up, I was a little disappointed she didn’t try anything drastic, but I could see on her face the entire time that EMs smile was sooo fake, and I got reports that she was seen crying outside later. Watching people congratulate her was priceless. When my own friends congratulated her a few of them later told me that she seemed surprised that I had any “respectable” friends (her literal words) who thought well of me. And no I’d arranged her to be only in one photo so she couldn’t ruin any others.

Oh and our wedding day was only the 3rd time she’d ever set eyes on me. She was against me from the start for almost a year without ever having spoken a word or ever seen me in person. Take that EM. To this day I have no idea what was her real beef with me. Happy ending: now that I provided the first grandkids, to my chagrin they’re like baby Targaryens they’re so white, and of course she’s too “young” to be a grandma so she’s called “nana”, but we laid down ground rules and she knows we will ostracize her at the drop of a hat, and she has kissed butt so hard and to her credit done her best to mend everything without ever really actually mentioning any of it. It’s great. We have holidays and fun visits in between and she showers us with super expensive gifts and will drop everything possible to help if we need anything. I think we’re friends now. One day I think she might bring it all up and try and play the victim, idk, but she’ll be hit with a carefully detailed account of everything that went down, in case her memory “fails” her. I can forgive but I’ll never forget, after all, I got my delicious revenge. Power over everything she holds dear and the evidence to expose whatever she hasn’t already done by her own dumb self and absolutely ruin her reputation and community and church standing. I feel really good right now

TLDR entitles mom wants to be petty about me dating her son so I take petty to another universe levels and crush her with epicc facts and logic and hold all the cards to ruin her life now

(source) story by (/u/cyborgurl)

[fyrapartnersearch]

Find the Light

heyo, i’m jo! i've posted before, but life and Depression™ got in the way. if we've chatted before but things fell through, my sincerest apologies and feel free to contact me again! about me: -early 20’s -she/her pronouns -GMT+3 -Tired my roleplaying: -originals! -long-term -chill and flexible af -usually 3rd person, past tense, multi-para -lover of most (all?) genres -platonic lover, romance lover, will do non-hetero (m//, f//, nb) pairings ONLY -good with including or excluding mature themes e.g. smut, alcohol, drugs, etc. -more than one main character is great but not required! -if smut is involved, i refuse to play out top/bottom dynamics. my characters are more than that and i hope yours are too -NOT a rapid-fire response type of person. i need time and patience, and i will offer the same right back to you 120%! this is a No Pressure zone

-can go from 250-2k words depending on what the situation calls for

-i adore ooc talk! please be my friend and create something beautiful with me -diverse cast of characters (just a heads up, none of them are straight) -limits: adultxminor, slaves, romanticized abuse, scat, vore, rape as fetish you, hopefully: -over 18 -lgbt+ friendly -not extremely demanding when it comes to response time -like ooc chatter & plotting/talking about our dumb characters plot ideas that can 100% be edited to our liking:

character A intentionally or unintentionally summons a demon, character B. other demons are attracted to the summoning spot and character A ends up intentionally or unintentionally making a pact with character B, forcing B to protect A from the demons and any future enemies. B is now stuck with A because of the pact, and if A is ever killed, B would face the same fate. shenanigans ensue. basically begrudged partners in crime/survival! (bonus if the demon summoned is the grim reaper because the irony would be delicious)

character A is a fallen angel who has recently been kicked out of heaven. character B is a human delinquent who’s known for causing trouble. character A decides to take B under their wing and attempt to reform them as a way to get back into heaven and regain angel status. who will influence whom in this situation? alternatively: character B is a literal demon instead of a human delinquent, for extra Angel Points

vampires have taken over society and now control everything whilst humans are treated like cattle and bloodbanks. however, there is a hidden human rebellion group that wants to dethrone the vampires and make things better for humans. one day, their leader, character A, is captured and taken to some of the top vampire 'leaders' to be interrogated on the rest of the rebellion's whereabouts. plot twist: turns out one of the vampire leaders, character B, and this captured rebel were actually best friends before the vampires took over, and they had both thought the other was dead. old feelings crop up, morality is questioned, confusion and frustration galore.

  there have been more and more rumors and alleged sightings of vampires cropping up lately, so character A, a 'vampire hunter' is hired to take care of them. thing is, vampires are a relatively new thing and the humans don’t have them completely figured out yet, so the vampire hunter is given a vampire partner, character B (who probably has something on them like special handcuffs made of some material that's like kryptonite to vampires so they can't try any funny stuff) to help in tracking down vampires and generally figuring out what they’re all about. getting along immediately is probably not in the cards for these two.

  a dnd-like adventure where a pair or group of people are aiming for the same goal, whether it be a sacred treasure or otherwise, and decide to work together. personalities clash, infighting ensues, and irreplaceable memories are made along the way.

  the seven sins of hell are represented by seven demon princes/princesses/royalties. i don’t actually have a real idea for this but i think the concept is rad. we wouldn’t have to use all seven but yeah! maybe representatives of the seven heavenly virtues make an appearance or are a key part. idk, let’s talk!!

  character A is a detective, character B is their new deadpan android assistant. that’s it, that’s all i’ve got. i just think the concept is interesting as hell and apparently already done in D:BH, but i have Not played that game so i have no idea what they do with it.

  alternatively, we can just discuss characters and create plots out of them! i’ll also throw out some keywords/concepts that i have 0 plots for but would love to make something out of:

  witch academy / earth pirates / space pirates / elemental spirits / rivals / superheroes / supervillains / werewolves / gangs / mafia / magical girls/boys/people / ghosts / best friends to lovers / hate to love / amnesia / opposites attract / assassins / bands / cyberpunk / royalty / runaways / alchemy / bounty hunters

i’ve got a discord i use for ooc stuff (which i will give out after initial contact), and for the actual roleplaying i usually use email or gdocs, but if you use other mediums for ooc chatter and/or roleplay, just let me know! i’m willing to try new stuff out. you can hit me up at 32nd.of.august@gmail.com. hope to hear from y’all!

[heir-of-the-founders]

I dont give a fuck anymore jesus christ i need yall to see this

Asdfghjkl its so hard to explain the amount of fucking hypocrisy in this video jesus.

Dont let the cleanliness fool you. Its a shithole.

The gym doesnt have an ac system but we can afford a giant (and by giant i mean ive never seen one this size before) touchscreen tv next to the auditorium and to have the 30 (that's not an exaggeration) tvs playing the fucking school news 7 times an hour every hour (they gloat about it but also gloat that we're the most watched student news in the state)(like no dip dumb dumb you play it 4800 times a damn day) and decals on the stairs and to completely revamp the auditorium.

They also cant be bothered to actually clean the fucking music wing. Theres these weird box couch things in there. Someone spilled a drink behind one. It took them a month AND being notified by other teachers bc students literally cant get a hold of janitorial at all ever. Fuck, freshman year a bird got inside and fucking died on the stairwell. Took 2 hours for the bird to be gone and 2 fucking weeks for the blood to be cleaned up. There was literally fucking blood on the windows and floor. Someone put notebook paper down so we didnt get blood on our shoes.

Oh! And when the band teacher mr swenson left he got replaced with henson and instead of giving him a new plaque they literally just taped an h over the sw with printer paper.

The head of the school board for my county literally got caught using the school credit card to go to hooters and buy alchohol but i guess nobody reported him bc that was freshman year and im a sr now and hes still head of the board.

Also, a few years ago (maybe it was only last yr i dont remember) during the march for our lives thing, a girl was organizing a protest and the hicks (for the people who dont know, those are the people that like,, kin the south. They literally wear plaid button ups and tuck their shirts into their too high jeans with giant belt buckles and wear cowboy boots and have confederate flags on their trucks, its ridiculous) the hicks literally kicked her and pushed her and spit on her in the halls for so long and it was so bad that she ended up not coming to school for like two weeks. But nobody got in trouble even though we have cameras literally everywhere.

My math teacher doesnt have a math degree. Well, shes not my math teacher anymore but like. She admitted to our class that she has no idea what shes doing. She yells at kids when they correct her. I literally transferred from algebra 2 to the algebra 2/ trigonometry mixed course in the middle of the year because it was taught by a different teacher and it made more fucking sense.

My english teacher sophomore year didnt have an english degree. He had a math degree. He also taught statistics. But that course was dropped when he retired jr yr. We literally didnt even read anything the whole thing was bullshit. He also had us say ubuntu (taken from wiki- Ubuntu (Zulu pronunciation: [ùɓúntʼù]) is a Nguni Bantu term meaning "humanity." It is often translated as "I am because we are," ) every day before class. it was weird.

Also the theater heads (the special ed teacher and 2 sports coaches) would like constantly yell at the theater kids to not bring any food or drink into the theater bc of like mice and shit but would then eat a pizza and drink coffee

Oh! Speaking of mice. The STEM classroom had this weird ass ceiling where it was like a platform of tiles hanging from the real ceiling and like it wasnt over the whole thing and we had a mouse problem in the school and sometimes the mice would get up there and sometimes you could hear them crawling around in the middle of class. There were also just like. Mouse traps. All over a lot of rooms.

One of the english rooms had a window thats inside and faces under a stairwell.

Oh and all that glass? Yeah, theres more and none of its bulletproof.

The pe teacher has a record of calling students whores and telling them theyre not going anywhere in life in front of the entire class bc the student didnt bring pe clothes. Its happened to both of my sisters and also a few friends. Ive seen it happen too. Amongst other things. Also, her office connects to the girls changing room and theres a window into it? And like the window is kinda covered up but with this weird material that has holes all over it. I dunno its just really creepy.

And like i guess last year the special ed teacher (one of the theater heads) got caught cheating on her husband (the freshman spanish teacher) with the (recently) retired freshman american history teacher. Mr s (the husband) and mr b (the side hoe) had rooms across from eachother. And now mrs s lives in Florida and mr s is just. Gone.

The excel head (like the head of the gifted kids program i guess?) Broke one of the 3d printers bc she was messing with it and then blamed it on a student and got the entire excel programs 3d printer privileges revoked. They even caught it in camera and she didnt get in trouble.

Sophomore year everyone called the science teacher daddy to the point that he just left.

The school has 3 elevators (required by law) and theyre kinda fucked up but i didnt realise it until i started using them regularly. First, there is a single thing in one if the elevators that says the last time they were inspected was 2014. Theres the main building elevator, the freshman building elevator, and the okd elevator, which is the only one that goes to the 3rd floor.

The old elevator is like. Really old. Like. Its manual. And you can touch the walls of the elevator shaft when yr moving. Also like. One half of the elevator just. Isnt covered. You also need a key to operate it and they dont give the keys out to the students so you either need to talk to the nurse before hand (and she always forgets) or try to find a janitor. Which. Only way to the 3rd floor. Elevator wise anyway. Which sucked wheb i had win time (like a mandatory study hall where you sign up for different teachers every day depending on 'What I Need', hence the name) on the 3rd floor bc sometimes mandatory stuff was scheduled up there. Which. Yay.

And the freshman building elevator fuckin,, it fuckin shakes. Like. Just. Its like turbulence. Its terrifying and ive genuinely thought i was about to die a few times.

People also use the elevators to vape bc the only one you need an adult for is the old one. This is evident by the smell.

Thats all that i can think of atm bc its 3am and i might delete this later but yea fuck my school