#i am open to ideas and questions about it

[joemomrgneissguy]

via @iamthepulta

When I was around 13 or so, I got introduced to a friend to Christianity after being brought up in a mostly atheistic household. My parents had also just gotten divorced and my Dad had coincidentally decided that then was as good a time as any to start going to church again, and so would start taking us because we seemed interested in it.

As a pretty lonely kid with a big desire to fit in or have community, it was a formative time in my life, and I took to it quite quickly.

But the thing about a lot of evangelical spaces is, there is no room for nuance, and, perhaps more crucially, having doubts is seen as a crisis. If you are saved by faith alone, the thinking seemed to be that faith must be total and absolute.

For teenaged me, that meant not questioning things too much, at least not openly, and just accepting what was said at face value like anything I had learned in school up to that point. There were limits to this, like when my church brought in a guest speaker that claimed evolution wasn't real and that the dinosaurs had survived Noah's flood, but on the whole, I didn't have enough of a basis to dispute anything I was told.

Enter 'Mark'. Mark went to the same middle school as me and the same highschool I attended freshman year, and he was a really annoying and combative atheist. At some point he clocked that I was Christian, and he started arguing with me all the time. Most of it wasn't all that substantive. We were young teenagers, after all. But it often got heated, because how dare he question this stuff that is obvious truth?

I realize now that me getting into arguments with him so much was based out of a certain emotional immaturity, and a desire to justify to him and myself that I was right in making a decision that I myself was unsure of. It was performative, to an extent, so I didn't actually hate the guy when everything was said and done.

That beef died down after a year or so. The arguments were getting nowhere, and Mark turned out to be a pretty good guy with perhaps a bit of an antisocial streak. We started hanging out a bit more, and talking about things other than religion, and were eventually at least nominally friends.

This same thing played out with a friend that was Jewish, and another that was Mormon. This was all around that same time in my life. We bickered over things for a while, and then eventually religion just wasn't a factor in our relationship.

These pointless arguments made me realize the simple idea that arguing over religion, trying to convert people to your side, is ultimately a pointless endeavor because it is unprovable, and that I could just as easily be "wrong" with my beliefs. They had just as much 'evidence' as I did. So no matter how hard I 'believed' in this stuff, I just had to accept that some other people never would, and that's okay.

That is somewhat heretical in an evangelical context, since the whole idea is to evangelize, but it opened me up to there being space for other religions and belief systems in the world, and that they were comprised of good people who deserved nothing but love and respect.

This seed of openness and maturity was ultimately what allowed me to change when I moved for college, where I was exposed to stuff like the actual science behind evolution, friends who were LGBT, and programs challenging ideas of creationism.

I owe my life now to those conversations. My career, my friends, my outlook on life could have never occurred without them.

And it's why I now could never return to the same spaces I grew up with, because I can now see them for the toxic, hateful places they are.

I don't know how to navigate faith these days, but I am eternally grateful to "annoying" atheists in my life, and for the patience people had when I was still figuring myself out.

We need the obnoxious atheists back. I know they engineered their own destruction by being annoying and pretentious, but it has become apparent how essential to the ecosystem they were. The religious fanatics have become too bold without their natural predators. Jesus wojaks would have been torn to shreds in 2011.

[kleftiko]

❦ WALKING IN ON YOU

ft. zoro and law

cw: fem!reader, nudity (lol duh), law is a tiny bit of a perv

—zoro

yells at YOU, like it’s YOUR fault that he got lost and entered the woman’s bath. tries to use anger to cover up the fact that his ears are burning red at the sight of you holding the small towel against your body to cover yourself (it’s not doing a very good job). can’t even form a coherent sentence as he watches the droplets of water cascade down your skin.

zoro stifled a yawn, the only sound that echoed down the hall besides the rhythmic pattern of his feet along the wooden floor. after a long day of training it was nice to have a hot bath and release the tension in his muscles.

the only problem was that he had no idea where he was going. this town’s weird bath house had no signs or arrows directing anywhere, but with his swordsman intuition he recognized the path he was heading on.

and once he found the baths he wasted no time in opening the curtain wide and waltzing in—only to freeze dead in his tracks at the sight of you. naked. dripping.

your eyes were wide, caught in the headlights and unable to move as you stared right back at zoro.

he took you in, skin still damp, the small towel in your hands in the process of drying your head. he’d seen you everyday but this felt different. it felt so much more intimate that it had zoro admiring your body—the curves, the scars, everything he could catch a glimpse of. and sure, zoro was dense, but now, with you in front of him, he could finally understand why the stupid cook was all over you.

it was only when a stray droplet of water fell from your hair to the ground that zoro finally felt the heat travel up his neck and all the way to his ears.

“what the hell are you doing, woman!” he screamed. this seemed to snap you out of your trance as well, as you snapped the towel against your body in an attempt to hide as much as you could.

“the he’ll am i doing?” you shouted back. “what the hell are you doing!”

“this is the men’s bath!”

“no, it isn’t!”

zoro was about to reprimand you again when he finally took a second to look around and noticed nami and robin’s clothes neatly folded on the bench.

“zoro!” you yelled, and his attention drew back to your body. “get out!”

but when he finally left the bath, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. the blush on his face refused to budge as he stalked down the hall, now even more in need of a bath.

—law

malfunctions. thought he heard ‘come on in’ when you said ‘hold on a min’ and immediately combusts upon seeing your boobs. you’re almost as dumbfounded as he is, but regain some kind of composure to start yelling at him to get out. and bless this man, he can barely comprehend anything when he sees you like this and spins around to leave, only to hit his head on the doorway.

law was psyching himself up. he had been outside your door for almost two minutes trying to build up the courage to knock. the polar tang had just docked on a new island and he wanted to ask if you’d want to go walk around town with him. he shouldn’t have been so nervous, you were a member of his crew and a friend, but recently he’d been wanting to spend more time with you—try to figure out these feelings bubbling up inside him.

so he finally knocked, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as he did so. and once he heard your respond from the other side he opened the door.

“y/n-ya, i was wondering if you wa—“ but he couldn’t finish his question.

as soon as he saw you, clad only in your underwear bottoms, arms wrapped around yourself as you attempted to hook your bra, he choked on his words.

his eyes immediately fell to your boobs, not yet constrained by the fabric around them and almost fully on display for his gaze only. he couldn’t believe it. all those days in your boiler suit had him (guiltily) fantasizing what you were hiding underneath, only able to see you when they’d stop by an island and you’d dress in casual clothes. but here, now, had almost all of his dreams fulfilled as he witness the curves of your body and your soft tits in front of him. images flashed in his mind that he only allowed at night within the security of his bedroom.

he only came to when you nearly screeched.

“oh my god, law!” your arms came around to hug yourself, unintentionally squeezing your boobs. “get out!”

he blinked out of his daze. realizing his mouth was hung open, he shut it and spun around immediately, only to smack his forehead against the wall.

you called him again, this time out of concern but he ignored you. instead nearly scrambling through the entrance and slamming the door behind him.

he doesn’t think his heart had ever beaten this fast before, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the image of your gorgeous body out of his head.

wanna read more? check out my masterlist

[steddieas-shegoes]

a ride he does survive

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘ride’

rated e | 453 words | cw: public sex (they’re not caught, seen, or heard) | tags: Eddie has a crush on Steve, modern era, scoops ahoy, getting together, anal sex

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

“He’s a ride I wouldn’t survive.”

Jeff smacks his shoulder, groaning. “Dude, don’t say shit like that out loud.”

“Oh, so you’re homophobic now?” Eddie smirks, knows Jeff is the farthest thing from homophobic. He just isn’t a fan of Steve, or Eddie’s crush on Steve.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Why don’t you go talk to him for once? Or am I gonna have to listen to you every day until one of you inevitably leaves this shithole town?”

“There’s no way he’d be interested in me. I’m a triple senior, dude.”

“Hey guys, we’re closing up. Do you need anything else?” The man in question smiles down at them, towel thrown over his shoulder and broom in hand.

“Sorry, nope!” Eddie squeaks out.

Jeff rolls his eyes as he stands. “Actually, Eddie here is looking for a summer job.”

Steve grins. “I need someone to close with! Robin’s mom is, like, so strict. She won’t even let her stay out past curfew for work.”

Eddie feels like he’s out of his body. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve hands him the towel. It smells like bleach and chocolate.

“If you can help me close, I’ll put in the good word with the boss.”

Jeff laughs his way out of Scoops Ahoy while Eddie wipes tables, muttering to himself about doing stupid things for stupid boys. He’s nearly done when Steve turns off the lights.

“Sorry, we have a security light usually, but it’s not working.”

Eddie nods. Right. They’ll just finish in the dark.

“If you log the time you helped today, it can get added to your paycheck,” Steve explains.

He guides him to the back where there’s a book of names, mostly Robin, and clock in times. Eddie adds his.

“You like ice cream a lot?” Steve asks.

“Uh, I’m lactose intolerant?” Eddie replies.

Steve nods. “So you come to the ice cream shop because…”

“Because you look really good in that outfit.”

It’s out before he can stop it. Steve’s lips are on his before Eddie can understand what’s happening. Their hands are everywhere, covering skin that shouldn’t be exposed back here. They’re both hard, both leaking.

“Can I fuck you?” Steve asks.

“Here?”

“Please.”

He sounds so good begging like this, Eddie can’t say no.

There’s no lube to be found, but they make it work with Vaseline from the employee locker. Eddie’s stretched open quickly, just a hint of pain with the pleasure, the way he likes it.

Steve sits in the rolling chair and this is a bad idea. Eddie loves bad ideas.

He straddles Steve, rides him until the chair is wobbling and squeaking, ready to break.

“Tomorrow, you can fuck me,” Steve offers as he comes.

[allfearstofallto]

Yandere! Ren x Reader

18+ MDNI

You wanted something casual. Really casual. As casual as it got. It's hard to gently say that you just wanted sex, but it was the truth. Just moving back home, a new promotion, and the chilling, recent threat of a stalker? That was a lot to take in in the span of just a couple months, you couldn't exactly fit a whole partner into this mess.

Reh was okay with this. Or as okay as he could be. He fiddled with the long sleeves of his cardigan and muttered a few unsure sounding affirmations before giving you a very very forced smile. The kind that showed you that this wasn't entirely fine with him. The hunger in those blue eyes spoke about desiring more, but his lips didn't move to ask for it. You weren't even sure if you could retract the offer, Ren firmly shook his head when you opened your mouth to do so, not giving you the chance to reel it back in.

“Exclusive?” He questioned. While his words sounded shy, his eyes showed determination, a strange mix of emotions that you dare not question.

“Of course,” you assured. It's not like you'd be able to find anyone else willing to agree to such terms. Unless you went to Teo. You shivered at the thought.

But the idea of causal seemed lost on Ren. Of course, you believed that being friends with benefits meant that you had to be, well, friends, but the concept seemed foreign to Ren. Friends don't hold hands or look into each other's eyes longingly, they especially don't use their long fingers to force them to look back when another turns their head away. Friends don't kiss outside of sex, they don't spam their phone with messages begging for attention, they don't isolate them from their other friends.

Ren, who was supposed to be sex and pleasant conversation, was doing all of those things. To an almost worrying degree.

Any attempt to bring him back to reality was met with the cutest pout and the softest apologies, making you forgive him quicker than you actually should have. You let him off with a slap on the wrist, maybe even less than that, and he'd squeezed you in a tight embrace, letting you feel just how firm he was beneath those soft baggy clothes. The hug would turn into a kiss, with you feeling his snake bites pressing against your lips, and the kiss would lead to the bedroom.

Ren would do all the things you liked that night, as an apology for his bad behavior. Kissing you in all the places that made you moan the loudest, touching and squeezing you in ways that had your toes curling. He made extra sure to use those fingers you loved so much, before the act was finished and he lay beside you, eyes already droopy and prepared for sleep.

“I love you,” he muttered softly, before he shut his eyelids and you were met with nothing but his deep gentle, breathing.

Your heart stopped at the declaration. Eyes wide as suddenly, you were no longer tired. The naive part of you wanted to assume that this was a platonic love that he was affirming, but you knew otherwise. As you lay there on your back, blanket hiked up to your chin, you had the realization, Ren never intended for this to be casual.

AN: I am so sorry if this is bad or ooc or anything! I just wanted to write it! I always get nervous writing for new fandoms.

[tearsaura]

No need no use pt. 2 // Eris Vanserra x healer!reader

A/N: Thank you so so much for all the nice feedback on part one. I am so glad that you liked it so much!

Word count: 1K

Warnings: talk of death, injuries, angst

Heaven smelled like cinnamon and pine. Delicious.

I was lying, or floating, on soft clouds and felt no pain anymore. Death wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. For the people that lost someone, sure, but in my case, there was no one that lost me. Maybe I should open my eyes. Am I going to see all my dead relatives?

Footsteps appeared suddenly and I felt a presence, the smell of cinnamon and pine becoming stronger, as I felt the clouds under me dipped.

“Are you awake, love?”

No.

No there is no way.

I opened my eyes and stared right at the newly appointed High lord of the autumn court. And last time I checked, he was very much alive, which meant that I was too.

“What are you doing here?” Eris looked at me cautiously, his usual taunting smile inapparent. “What am I doing here?” “What do you remember?” he asked, completely disregarding my questions. Huffing, I thought back.

There was Cassian’s injury, his bones sticking out.

Azriel yelling at me, holding me down.

Leaving the house, going to the woods.

“You found me outside of Velaris.” I stated and Eris nodded. “I brought you back to autumn and had my healers take care of you.” “Why didn’t you bring me to the night court?” “If you wanted to be there, you wouldn’t have been walking away from them.” He replied. “What happened?”

I didn’t know what it was, I think my near-death experience loosened my tongue, but I told him everything. How I wanted to belong in the night court, even about my unrequited feelings for Azriel. How he grabbed my hand and held it down to heal Cassian, how none of them said anything or even cared when I walked out. Eris didn’t interrupt me, listening cautiously. The more I talked, the more I wanted to bawl my eyes out. There where no words to describe how hurt I was, how betrayed I felt. It has reached to the point that I even shared it all with a person that I didn’t necessarily like that much.

“And the worst part is, I deserve this. I never had a place to belong, and I’ll never will” I finished, silent tears running down my cheeks. At this point, I didn’t care that I was crying to the worst possible person I could be crying to because Eris, as bad as he can be, showed me more empathy and basic respect than any of my so-called family ever did by bringing me here and healing me back to life.

“It is astonishing how the night court doesn’t have any basic knowledge, but not surprising.”

“Really? This is, all you are going to say about this?”

“I could go on and on about how none of them deserved to be in your presence to begin with, how none of them deserved even a single thought of yours going towards them but I do not think that will help you at this moment. The night court doesn’t know that you’re here. Do you want to keep it that way or shall I bring you back there to tear them apart?” He asked, his cunning smile making his way back on his face. There he is.

“I don’t want to talk to them.” I said, suddenly feeling tired again.

“Should I inform them?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Why did you bring me here. What do you want from me?” I whispered, looking towards the ceiling.

“I thought you where dying.” My eyes snapped back to him. Eris held my gaze as he continued: “You were wandering around and sobbing, clutching your shoulder. I had an idea what had happened because I knew how the healers’ powers work.” He whispered back. He wore this sad look in his eyes, and I immediately wanted to grab his hand for some reason. To console him.

“You should rest, and we can talk after about where you want to go. I have no bad intentions I swear.” He said to which I only nodded absently, feeling my eyes growing heavier before I drifted back to sleep.

“You were asleep for about three days” Eris told me as we walked through the woods of his home later that evening. I needed fresh air and Eris decided to accompany. There was so much that I was feeling and yet I felt… numb. Where was I supposed to go now, what am I going to do?

“Have you eaten something?” Eris questioned, breaking the silence. I nodded.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?” “Good”

“How are you feeling?” “I have no where to go now” I blurted out. Eris came to a halt, turning to look at me. “What do you mean?” “I have been with the night court pretty much my whole life now. I do not know any other home.” I started, avoiding his gaze. “And now, I can’t and won’t go back there but I don’t know where to go. These where the only people I knew.”

His hand reached out to my face, pulling my chin up. I looked at him, his face didn’t betray any emotions. His eyes bore into me as I bit my lip. He was devastatingly beautiful.

“You can stay here of course.” He finally said, making my breath hitch. “I don’t want to impose” “You aren’t imposing. I am offering. It’d be my honour to have you here.” I bit my lip, hesitating. “Maybe I can offer my healing powers in exchange?” I suggested, to which he quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. If you want, you can help my healers out with knowledge only, but I won’t have you risk your life for anyone.” He said sternly. “But-” “No buts. You can stay here as long as you want, and you won’t be a burden to me.”

“You don’t even know me”

“I know you enough”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Eris held out his arm to me and I held onto him as we continued our walk. We didn’t speak much after that, making our way back to his home. Well, I guess mine now too, at least for the time being.

And suddenly, my fall out with the night court didn’t seem bad at all.

-----

Taglist:

@celestialgilb

[finniestoncrane]

Hi finnie! Sorry to bother you but u was wondering if you could write something for young Justice Riddler from your list maybe 15 and 51? He is just a cutie! Sorry I don't send request a lot! (≡^∇^≡)

Young Justice!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 719 oooooooh yes please!! these are perfect for him, get ready for some nervous first time eddie!! 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: virginity loss, reader has a vagina but no gendered terms are used, first time sex, nervous eddie

"You're ok with this, yeah?"

As you straddled Eddie's waist, it only then occurred to you that he hadn't replied as confidently as you would have liked when you asked him if he wanted you to be on top. Rather, he'd offered a nervous nod, a stammered 'yes' and then a sharp inhale that never seemed to come back out.

You'd shifted out from underneath his weak grip on your sides, then pushed him gently down onto the mattress, taking care to lift his glasses gently from his face and place them carefully next to the bed. He'd been so willing, so pliant, and you worried about whether he felt like he was just going through the motions.

"If it's not ok, Eddie, we can wait and try again some other time. I really don't-"

"No! No, no. Please, no. I want this to happen. I think I need this to happen. I just... I was nervous. I am nervous."

With a slight giggle, intended to be warming and reassuring rather than patronising, you sat up straight. As you moved, you brushed past his cock, twitching against your body as his eyes closed tight.

"Why are you so nervous?"

One of your hands rested on his abdomen, almost keeping him steady as he trembled with nerves. The other moved up his torso, fingers walking towards the tiny patch of hair on his chest before stopping to stroke it delicately. He couldn't help but smile as he made out the pattern your finger was moving it. A question mark, drawn over and over again as he spoke.

"I don't want to get it wrong."

"What do you think you're going to get wrong, Eddie? You're the Riddler. You don't get things wrong."

That little boost of confidence seemed to have done wonders for him as he reached his slightly quivering hands up and placed them on either side of your waist.

"I'm just worried about... I've not quite practised enough... bucking my hips. I wanted to get it perfect for the first time."

"Ah... did you receive bad feedback from someone else?"

He glanced to the side, lips pressed tightly shut. Somehow, everything fell into place, and you reached your hand to his cheek, stroking against his pointed sideburns and feeling the heat from the deep, red flush on his skin.

"Oh, Eddie. You mean your first time?"

Eddie nodded bashfully, his whole body seeming a shade pinker than it had moments ago. Your own body seemed warmer too, the idea that you were going to be important to Eddie, someone who was in turn so important to you, caused your heartbeat to rise steadily, your blood heating as you began to subconsciously grind your hips a little against him.

"Come here, you sweet little thing. You don't have to be embarrassed."

You helped him shift upright slightly, leaning into him and bringing his face to your bare chest, holding it close as you played with the longer hair at the nape of his neck.

"Of course not. This is actually a bit of a turn on."

"R-really?"

There was a hesitance in his voice, as though he couldn't quite believe that you might be telling the truth. But as you brought one hand from him and helped to position his head against your now desperate cunt, he realised he might have to take your word for it.

With only a smile and a subtle bite of your lip, you began to ease yourself back and forth on his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls as he quickly tore his hands away from you and found the sheets, clutching them with whitening knuckles and reddening fingertips.

"Are you ok, Eddie? Is this pace good for you?"

He could only nod, he feared that opening his mouth might make him whine, and whining might make him lose control, and losing conrol meant that the tiny bit of restraint he had in him would snap and his quickly formed orgasm would be released.

No, he could hold out, just a little bit longer, if only to make sure he could take it for just a little bit longer the next time.

God, he hoped there would be a next time. Practice was the only way he would get better, after all.

[what-if-i-like-my-mechs-older]

Optimus was finally starting to come to, he kept his optics shut however, making a grumbling sound as he talked to himself, ignoring the fact that there were others there.

Because no there wasn't, because he was at home, because he didn't visit Wheeljack today on a fragging whim and then get blasted to who knows where.

He was going to deny everything until it was real, because he was too damn tired to be dealing with this scrap.

He exhaled speaking quietly and firmly to himself, as if by saying it , it would absolutely make it real.

"Wheeljack didn't blow me up. I didn't get blasted, the mech with the fine faceplate structure was just a dream, just a really, real dream- I'm going to open my optics and none of it is real."

His ear fins twitched. His jaw tensed, Optimus closed his eyes tighter, please if there was a Primus...

He opened his optics and there he was that mech with the faceplate with sharp edges that only defined his features further, one optic ridge raised and looking at him.

Optimus closed his eyes again and sighed, a long heavy sigh.

"Of course you're real and just had to be there. "

"You are certainly in a mess and answered a few questions without my even asking, so you're from an alternative universe, that certainly explains the appearance...though with these bright colours I must wonder are you from a pleasure District where you come from?"

Optimus's cheeks turned deep purple at the mere suggestion, he held nothing against such places, but the very idea of himself performing at one with everyone staring...that voice....all raspy, gravelly even saying that....no, not the time to be thinking like that.

Sitting up, he found his wrists and ankles were bound and glared with such a fire at the silver mech . He was sure he'd burned him and smirked at the thought.

Megatron however was simply staring, the fire, the fight in those eyes, there was something akin to a wild animal in them that wanted freedom, he momentarily felt the desire to tame such a thing...but perhaps in that want age set them apart.

If Optimus had heard these thoughts and not noticed the Decepticon symbol on the mechs chest.

He instant response would be

'No it didn't. '

Optimus pulled at the restraints again and heard another mech working the medical computer behind him.

There was no mistaking that structure, despite a few differences

Frowning he stated the name of the mech

"Soundwave."

Soundwave unfazed by him simply waved a hand as if to say yeah yeah I'm busy working don't bother me.

Prime turned his head and then looked at the one beside the med berth and chuckled, that damn cannon should have instantly made it obvious who he was.

Megatron folded his arms, he did not appreciate the mocking tone in that laugh.

"Pray tell, what do you find so amusing about my image."

"Compared to the Megatron in my world, you're tiny."

Optimus grinned, oh he knew he was dancing with Unicron with that comment but the way Megatron shifted and placed his hands on his hips , unsure of what to say before he was pointing at him and scolding him as if he were a sparkling.

"Boy, despite my size I have battled and won against Cybertronians Omega Supreme's size, I have no problem dealing with prisoners or upstarts."

Prime wondered a moment if he should pull a page from Bee's book and antagonise him, that berating tone might almost be worth it.

Optimus decided to go with a tactic that he knew was merely a joke... but he couldn't girlboss, mansplain, definitely not man slaughter his way out of this, he was on his own here.

Primus he couldn't believe he was about to do this.

"So which one am I, Lord Megatron?"

He purred leaning in closer.

Man whoring it was.

Next part

(Previous part)

(First part)

[misakiisstupid]

Headcanon: Jason Todd vs. The Internet (A Losing Battle)

Jason Todd is many things.

A crime lord? Sure.

A vigilante? Absolutely.

A walking embodiment of chaotic violence and trauma? 100%.

Tech-savvy? Not even remotely.

And nobody realizes it until it’s far, far too late.

The Problem? Jason Missed the Internet Boom.

Jason was 15 when he died. The last time he was alive, the most advanced thing he used was the Batcomputer, and even then, it was mostly just:

"Enhance that image."

"Pull up the GCPD files."

"How do I delete my search history before Bruce sees it?"

Then? He was dead.

By the time he came back, the world had moved on without him.

Smartphones. Social media. Streaming. Apps. Online banking. Memes.

Jason Todd had no idea how any of it worked.

But Jason is Also a Little Shit.

Which means he refuses to admit it.

Tim once made an offhand comment about how Jason wasn’t on social media. Jason, not wanting to sound out-of-touch, just scoffed:

"Pfft, as if I’d waste my time on that."

(Translation: I don’t actually know what that is, but I refuse to be perceived as old.)

Steph once tried to add him to a group chat. Jason took one look at all the notifications and noped out of there.

Cass once sent him a link. Jason stared at it for five minutes before giving up and just asking Duke what to do.

The Man is Just Out Here Not Acknowledging the Internet Exists.

If Jason needs to find information, he doesn’t Google it. He asks Barbara, Tim, or literally anyone else.

If someone tells him to "DM" them, he pretends his phone is broken.

If people try to show him TikToks, he just nods like he understands.

When Bruce tried to introduce online case files, Jason printed them out and handed them back in a folder.

Once, he accidentally clicked on an ad and it crashed his browser. He just never opened it again.

Jason’s Excuse? "I Don’t Care."

And the thing is? It’s a damn good excuse.

Because who’s going to question him? Jason Todd is a 90s kid who was raised on street smarts and paperback books. He doesn’t need all this tech nonsense.

So when someone asks him why he doesn’t use the internet, he just shrugs:

"Why would I? I already know everything I need to know."

(Translation: I don’t know how to open a PDF and I refuse to learn.)

Then Zoe Asks.

One day, his surprise-adopted (kidnapped) daughter, Zoe, asks him for help with her school project.

“Papa, can you show me how to make a slideshow?”

Jason freezes.

His entire soul leaves his body. A slideshow. That’s… PowerPoint, right? People still use that?

But does he admit his ignorance? Absolutely not.

Instead, he just goes:

"Of course, kid. Just… uh… remind me what you need again?"

(Translation: I am absolutely going to ask Barbara to do this for me.)

The Batfamily Finally Catches On.

One day, Tim jokingly says:

"Man, I bet Jason doesn’t even know what a meme is."

And Jason, completely deadpan, responds:

"That’s the thing Alfred uses to season food, right?"

Silence.

Dead silence.

Bruce looks disappointed. Dick is choking on his own laughter. Tim actually falls out of his chair.

Jason? Realizes he has made a grave mistake.

Now? It’s a Running Joke.

"Jason, do you even know how to turn on a laptop?"

"Jason, you’re so off-the-grid that even Bigfoot has better Wi-Fi than you."

"Jason, when was the last time you used an ATM?"

"Jason, do you even know what streaming is?"

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 67: A Chosen Target

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

In the next few days I ease my mind by getting some things squared away. Abel and Franz’s contracts are cleared so now it’s a matter of shipping out their textile products. I also wish to inform Thomas about Zipporah’s case but each meeting is called short before I can. So I decide to drive to Arrow House after this luncheon.

Right now Polly and Ada made me take a mandatory break and join them for an early bite to eat. It seems a bit out of place now that most people don’t have much loose change to spend. I’m taking this as an occasion to distribute some of my own good fortune to the bar we’re meeting in. Something else I notice is Ada’s growing belly.

“So Verena, how was Germany?” Polly asks as she sips her tea.

I twirl a spoon in my hand. “The country was a nice change of scenery. I met friends. Some old, some new.”

This gets Ada’s attention. “Oh?”

“Zipporah, a girl I met back home a few years ago, has to move just because her family’s Jewish. I’m going to ask Thomas if there’s something we can do to send aid. Not just to her but to other traveling Jews.”

This information leads the two Shelby women to exchange worried glances. For good reason, too. Their Romani ties won’t go unnoticed by those bastards either.

“That sounds like a perfect idea,” Polly compliments and takes a bite of her meal.

“Did you meet anyone else?” Ada questions, changing the topic.

“One comes to mind. A sailor. His name is Nathaniel Winston. He claims to have met my uncle before.”

There it is. The wheels are spinning in her head again, just like Thomas. Only instead of business ploys she thinks of more personal matters.

“So… This Nathaniel Winston… Is he single?”

Clamp.

I set the spoon down and grab my coat, placing my end of the bill on the table. No. I am not discussing this again. Meanwhile poor Polly looks confused at my sudden movement.

“I knew it,” I mutter, not bothering to face Ada as I throw on my coat. “I knew you’d ask.”

She scoffs. “I’m just saying-”

“God, Ada!” I blurt, throwing my arms up. “Must every man I meet be a love interest?”

Her eyes flash. “You are too stubborn to move on!”

“We have more important things to worry about!” I bark, earning some odd looks from the people seated around us.

Polly keeps calm and folds her hands together. “You still love Tommy.”

Something in me bursts. “Yes! I still love that handsome bastard and for whatever God-damn reason I cannot move on! So let’s drop it, shall we?”

I grip my purse and storm to the door. First moeder, then Uncle Colon, now this? Is there anywhere I can go without being judged?

“Verena,” Polly calls softly.

I cringe with guilt and contained rage, turning to face the older woman. “I’m sorry, Polly. I’ll see you later. Komm, Dílis.”

The canine jumps up and trots behind me. I’m sure Ada’s watching with disapproval. No, I cannot replace human companionship with a pet. But for now that’s all I have!

Keep walking. Keep walking. Get in the car. Start driving. I put my Bentley in drive and all but floor it out of Birmingham, heading straight to Arrow House. Maybe there my personal life won’t be poked and prodded.

By the time I get to Arrow House it’s mid afternoon. Today’s weather has stayed clear and still, adding assistance to my traveling. I park off to the side and march up the front steps, straight to the door. After a few moments of knocking the door opens and Frances lets me inside.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced but I have some matters to discuss with Mr. Shelby.”

“He is in his study,” the housekeeper informs me after giving Dílis a doubtful look . “Please wait here.”

She leaves me in the parlor and in no less than a minute later Charlie scampers down the stairs. He notices us and his jaw drops.

“You got a dog?” Charlie marvels and holds his hand out for the pup to sniff.

“His name is Dílis. Go on, you can pet him.”

The Shelby boy doesn’t hesitate and starts giggling when Dílis starts licking his face. 

“Peng.” The dog flops down and understands to play dead, causing Charlie to clap appraisingly. “Braver hund.”

Ruff! His high-pitched puppy bark echoes throughout the house.

“Ruhig, Dílis.” He stops barking but still whines anxiously. This past week’s lessons have been adding up.

“Verena?”

Thomas’ voice draws me to the hallway where he’s waiting. “Dílis, platz. Zit. ” The dog stops and plops down on the floor. “Can you watch him, Charlie? I need to speak to your dad.”

Charlie nods eagerly and I follow Thomas into the library. He doesn’t seem fazed by leaving his son with Dílis. In fact he seems to still be calm and collected as he’s been all week. I’d almost say he looks tired. As I take a seat across from him I keep expecting Lizzie to slink out. I imagine she still wonders why I’m useful. I'd say it’s because I offer overseas connections and a peace of mind. But all because I simply try to hold Thomas’ hand I’m a deceitful witch to her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Tomas asks as he sits at his desk. "Was it just to please Charlie with your new canine associate?”

“Not entirely,” I remark. “I’ve been meaning to request resources to distribute to immigrants.”

Thomas shows surprise. “Immigrants?”

“Ask any stationed officer or transport official. Any cab driver or port sailor,” I reply sternly. “There are more and more immigrants leaving Europe to avoid the Nazis. One of my friends is leaving for Boston just because her family is Jewish. I am requesting to send supplies to these travelers.”

Just like Polly and Ada, his face grows dark at the mention of the monstrous group. Instead of answering he reaches into his desk and pulls out a clean sheet of paper.

“Which setup locations are you suggesting?” He asks, pen at the ready.

“Oh! Um, I thought of London, obviously, and maybe some other ports heading out of Europe. Maybe some on the East Coast for incoming travelers.”

Thomas jots down some notes and slips the paper next to the phone. “It will be done. I’ll make the call later.”

Under his breath I hear him mutter something like “Mosley can go to Hell” but I don’t press further. Thomas still looks tired. No wonder he’s postponing the call. He probably needs to rest. Maybe… Oh, what the Hell. Why not?

“Would you like me to watch Charlie for the afternoon?”

Thomas, half hunched over on his desk, looks up with worn eyes. “You’d do that?”

I push aside my grudge for him and smile. “Of course. It’ll be just like old times. And you look exhausted.”

The man sighs and calls for his son. Charlie’s footsteps get closer and both him and Dílis walk in. The boy has an uneasy grimace as if he’s about to be scolded.

“Hey, Charlie. You’re going to spend the day with Veena, alright?”

Thomas’ son looks between me and his vader. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, Charlie,” Thomas assures. “You’re not in trouble.”

“Your dad needs to take a nap,” I explain and rub Thomas’ shoulder.

“Daddy’s tired?”

“Yes. So you have to deal with- me!”

I kneel down and start tickling the boy’s sides, causing him to stiffen and let out spasms of giggling. Dílis gets agitated too and starts barking.

“Ah! St-Stop!” Charlie titters and I raise him up.

“There’s that smile.” I poke his cheek. “Whaddya say to a walk in the woods?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never gone past the stream.”

“Then let’s go exploring!” I encourage and start leading him out.

“Not too far,” Thomas warns. “It's still dangerous to let you two go without protection.”

“Fine. We’ll be careful. We’ve got Dílis. Just make sure to at least try to sleep,” I implore and usher Charlie into the hallway.

Dílis runs ahead and Charlie hurries upstairs to grab a jacket. I set down my purse and request an outdoors jacket of my own. Ten minutes later we’re bundled up and marching through the thick grass in the pasture. Dílis wanders in front but keeps close by. Charlie picks out a sturdy walking stick and keeps walking on and off the stone walls.

“This is it,” he points out when we get to a frozen stream. I dunno what’s past it.”

“It’s still on the property so we can keep going. How about we check out those trees?” I point to where the stream leads to a thicket of ash trees in the distance.

“Okay.”

We jump over the short wall and walk alongside the water. Dílis disappointedly tries lapping the ice and has to keep walking. Charlie helps distract him by finding a small stick for them to play fetch with. When we reach the thicket we all take a seat on some boulders next to the stream.

“This is pretty,” Charlie observes, looking out at the clearing behind us.

“Yes it is,” I agree. “God has provided a beautiful early winter. I’m sure this place is lovely in the spring.”

“Veena… Is daddy okay?”

That catches me off guard. What kind of question is that? Has Thomas really been so distant as to allow his son to be concerned for him? Charlie is still so young to be thinking this way.

I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Your vader loves you very much, Charlie. He’s just been really busy.”

He looks down and runs his fingers over the coarse rock. “Are you going to leave again?”

He is growing up. And I can’t let him see how sad it makes me. “Someday.” Time to change things up. “Have you ever seen a tulip?”

Charlie perks up with interest. “No. What’s that?”

“It’s a flower. A popular flower in the Netherlands. Next spring I’ll bring some bulbs for you to plant.”

“My classmate David is Dutch,” Charlie reports. “I told him I’m part Irish.”

“And a Gypsy, don’t forget.” I point a finger at him. “I see you’ve begun to observe more. Just like your vader.”

Charlie smiles proudly but something makes him hesitate again. “When will you leave?”

I frown. “Why all this talk of me leaving, Charlie?”

He looks down again. “Daddy’s happier when you’re here.”

Happier. There have been few times in the past years when I have seen Thomas look anything remotely close to happy. How can Charlie figure out how me being around makes him happy? I know that in the past I felt glad to be wanted by Thomas but now there is no reason for him to want me around.

“Your vader is a busy man. He needs help to get things done and that’s when I come to visit.”

Charlie nods but still doesn’t fully agree. He must live a very cold domestic life if my small visits offer highlighted excitement. I guess Lizzie can’t do everything.

Arf! 

“Dílis, what is it?”

The canine’s ears perk up and he stands alert, facing the edge of the thick tree line.

Grrr. His high-pitched yip turns into a low snarl. Something’s here. Maybe a deer or- Someone. Two men. Two men step out and quietly approach. Both are wearing brown jackets and caps. They’re trespassing. I’m unarmed! Do they know I’ve spotted them yet? They’re not carrying visible guns but I’m not waiting around to find out.

I grab Charlie and sink behind the boulder. “Gib Laut!”

Rr-raw-raw-ruh! Dílis follows orders and speaks a fierce, gruff bark. Maybe that will caution them to keep away.

“What’s wrong with Dílis?” Charlie asks, trying to squirm away.

“Charlie. Listen to me very carefully.” I hold his face still so he can pay attention. “You need to go behind the trees and run home. Find your vader. Tell him to come here. Run. Run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you find him. Can you do that?”

Charlie spots something behind me and his eyes widen. “Who is that?”

“Charlie, go! Run- Ah!”

Someone grips my hair and yanks me onto my back. Charlie jumps away and all I can see are the treetops above me. My pulse jumps and adrenaline rushes through as one of the men tightly grabs my arm and pulls out a hunting knife.

“Maybe Shelby will finally come to his senses when we scruff up another one of their employees- A woman. Get the message across that Thomas Shelby’s time in the world is running low.”

I hear the other one let out a small groan. “This feels wrong.”

The clutch on my arm tightens. “She’s still with the Peaky Blinders.”

“Dílis!” I gasp. “Fass! Attack!”

The canine lets out a deep growl and I feel the man behind me jump back, pulling me with him. The other one lets out a cry and sounds to be running away.

“Mangy mutt!”

“Get this fucking beast off me!” 

I tug away and crawl to a nearby tree, trying to get a grip on the situation. One man is running scared but the other one with the knife is still trying to escape Dílis’ attack.

“Leave her alone!”

My stomach drops. Charlie is still here. He runs over and pitches a rock at brute’s head. It doesn’t do much except make him drop the knife.

“Ch-Charlie- Run!” I order. “Dílis! Lauf!”

The dog jumps back and takes off after Charlie towards the house. Go! Go! He needs to protect Charlie. Now if I can just grab the knife-!

“Damn mutt ripped a hole in my leg!” The man roars and punches me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. “Time to finish the job.”

“Let go of me, you bastard!” I wheeze.

“Wo-hoa!” The man taunts, smiling like a madman. “Listen to that accent! She’s American!”

Ah!

He sticks the blade in my side and my scream rings out through the forest, sending birds flying. Warm blood spills down me and soaks my brown coat. In a fit of adrenaline I use my remaining strength to punch the bloke right in the crotch, sending him doubling over. 

Rr-raw-raw-ruh!

The man gasps and tries crawling away from the sound of Dílis’ bark. “It’s back!”

From the frozen ground I look up and see Charlie run over, and behind him is Thomas running at a full sprint. He sees the man on the ground and pulls out his gun.

“Charlie!” I heave and pull him out of the way. “Duck your head. Close your eyes-!”

Bam!

The bullet flies straight into the man's head, forming a perfect hole in his forehead. Charlie recognizes the loud noise and clings tighter.

“Don’t look. Keep your head tucked in. It’s alright.” With a blurring vision I see Dílis hovering over me and sense him prodding my face with his nose. “Braver hund. Good dog, Dílis.”

“Charles!” Thomas’ voice gets closer and I feel his wide frame kneel down next to us. “Verena- Are you hurt?”

“Take Charlie-” I wince and gently push Charlie away so he doesn’t get blood on him. “There’s another one…”

Thomas immediately sees the red and inspects the source. “You’re cut.”

“‘S fine… He went that way…” I try to point but my hand is starting to shake. So tired…

“Verena! Stay with me!” Thomas orders and begins grabbing me up to carry me.

It’s not a fatal wound but it’s not a light scratch either. Hm. How could one stab make someone so tired? My mind weaves in and out of consciousness, flashing images of being taken to a bed and getting stitched up by a blank face in a mask. So tired…

“You’re awake!” Charlie’s voice cheers.

I am? Why hadn’t I been before? My eyes open slowly and I take in my surroundings. We’re back at Arrow House in a spare bedroom. There’s a fire burning. Dílis is perched next to one side of the bed while Charlie is on the other. There’s light seeping in from the drapes. How much time has passed?

“You slept all day. Daddy brought you here and had a doctor fix you last night.”

Fix me. I reach down and pull back the dense cotton covers, revealing a large amount of gauze wrapped around me. So it was not a hallucination.

“You were very fearless yesterday, Charlie,” I praise and reach for his hand. “But please promise me that next time you will run when I tell you.”

His brown eyes drop and he looks disappointed. “I was just trying to be brave.”

I stroke a piece of hair away from his face.  “I know, I know. You’re just like your vader. But being brave doesn’t mean you need to fight. Courage stems in many forms.” I pat his cheek. “Don’t grow up too fast, Charlie.”

Arf! Dílis puts his two front paws on the bed and licks my face.

“Yes, yes! You were very brave too, Dílis. Braver hund.”

A noise catches my attention and I look over at the door. Thomas is here. From the look on his face I can tell he’s weary of seeing this scene again. Someone being injured and lying helpless in a bed. He quietly walks in and puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Is the party in here, eh?”

I offer his son one last grateful smile. “Just saying goodnight.”

The young Shelby’s face tenses for a second. “Goed- Goedenacht, Verena.”

My eyes light up at his use of Dutch. “Goedenacht, Charlie.”

Thomas lifts him off the bed and sends him off. When Charlie is gone he kneels down and faces me with soft eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough-”

“Stop, Thomas. I did what anyone would do. It’s your son who should be praised. He stood up for me. He has your spirit.”

“You still saved him,” Thomas implies.

“He saved me.” I give a small chuckle. “Of all the times to leave my gun in my purse.” Thomas doesn’t laugh along so I look him up and down. “How are you feeling?”

His eyebrows rise and he cracks a small grin. “Me? You just got stabbed. You’re lucky your lung wasn’t punctured.”

I show him an exaggerated look of my own. “When you walked in here you look like you'd just seen a ghost.” 

Ghost is a different word to him. It makes him hesitate. I don’t want him overthinking again so I ask the big question.

“Who the Hell were they?”

“Billy Boys. They disobeyed our truce. They’re both dead now, and I’m going to have a word with Jimmy fucking McCavern.” Thomas’ darkened face looks up. “I am so sorry.”

People can probably count on their hand how many times Thomas Shelby has apologized. I told him once before that he owes me a multitude of apologies. This one, however, is not engraved with his fault. Anyone can attack me at any time. 

“I should have known to expect this,” I admit softly.

He runs a hand over his forehead. “Yeah but you don’t deserve this, love.”

“There’s nothing you can do to change it. I agreed to a contract to be a Shelby employee, and in doing so I chose to paint a target on my forehead. What’s important is that Charlie is alright.”

Thomas sighs again and glances at an old Bible placed on the side table. “Does the Lord almighty have an answer for this?”

“God is not afraid of your questions,” I murmur, my eyes growing heavy again. “If you would like to know something you need only ask Him yourself.”

Thomas stands up and I feel his calloused hand on mine. “You’re tired. Get lots of rest, love.” Dílis jumps up and curls up near my feet. Before I drift off I hear Thomas say one final praise. “Braver hund.”

General POV

How could he have let this happen? How did this happen? This truce is getting worse by the week. The sooner McCavern and Mosley are dead the better. If they think they are free to rough up his men, his employees, of all people Verena, they are damn wrong.

Verena’s dog lets out a small whine before Thomas leaves the room. He takes one last glance at her, cursing himself for ever offering her a contract. Colon was right. He did make Verena think she owed him and now she’s addicted to this lifestyle, same as he is. He really is a bastard for making her his employee, and now it's turned her into a target. As it pains him to think of her leaving, the idea of Verena's dismissal begins to form in his head.

Seeing red drip from her clothes is a sight Thomas wants to forget entirely. The light threatened to leave her eyes last night. He shutters at the thought as he closes the door.

The tired gangster treads down the hall to Charlie’s room, where he finds his son hunched over on the bed.

“‘Ello, Charlie. Ready to sleep, eh? You’ve had a long day.”

“God helped us.”

Thomas’ thoughts freeze. “What did you say?”

“God helped us stop the bad guys yesterday,” the child babbles and crawls into the sheets.

The comment makes Thomas chuckle. “Verena’s told you about God, eh?”

“Yeah. Like how Uncle Arthur talks of Him. Verena’s told me about how mummy and Uncle John are with Him now too.”

Right there Thomas sees his son growing up. Maybe he never did have a suitable mother after Grace died, but he’s been taught in faith to remember her. It makes Thomas wonder. Is it possible to teach faith? Or are we born with an inner sense to it? Either way, there are spirits that guided them in these recent hours.

@sherbitdibdab @meadows5

[gghostwriter]

Emails He Didn’t Send

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Part 2 Summary: Through a series of unsent emails, Spencer laments through the loss of his life. Trope: Angst with an open ending w.c: 2.11k a/n: this marks the last of my ‘three’s a sideshow’ series. I wasn’t planning on making it a mini series I promise but ideas came and i am nothing but a slave to my creativity and readers. Special thanks to @lavenderspence & @thegloryofliterature for reading my unfinished drafts and giving me their opinions. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

[Drafted at 14.02.2019 23:41] 

To: reader@gmail.com

Fr: spencer.reid@gmail.com

Subject: Hey Love

Your favorite song played on the diner’s radio today. You remember which one, don’t you? The one we softly played through your phone’s speaker as we tried to bake your mom’s apple pie from memory during that late night when nightmares plagued my mind. I vividly remember the burnt taste of its’ crust as we were too busy dancing in each other’s arms, under the dim light of our kitchen and the night light, to mind the timer going off.

Sitting on the table, feeding each other what we deemed left edible, and laughing at how faulty your memory could be. It didn’t taste like what you imagined it to be, nostalgia and love, but for me, it was the sweetest treat there was. Being there with you, sheltered inside our apartment, accompanied by your smiles and giggles.

In hindsight, how ironic was it that was our running joke, when my memory is anything but fallible.

I once thought I knew all there was about love. The science behind it—how love actually happens less in the heart and more in the brain where key neurotransmitters such as dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin are released. All these chemical trigger physical responses and in turn feel addictive. As time goes on, connection, commitment and comfortability of the known take over. I’ve known everything about it, read everything about it, and experienced some to an extent—familial and friendship but then, you came along, beautiful, light, and happy, unaware that you’ve dismantled all my beliefs and concepts, making me question the validity of science and making me realize I’ve never truly loved before—the encompassing type of love they describe in books and show in movies. Nothing existed before you and nothing exists after, I know that now. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, love. I’ve spent my day working myself to the bone, doing anything to push the thought away of you and the lack of us. Now, as I hunch over in this wobbling desk in my undisclosed assignment, I can think of nothing but you, the space between us, and the love you’ve defined in the very atom of my being. 

— Spencer

**

[Drafted 01.07.2019 21:16]

To: reader@gmail.com

Fr: spencer.reid@gmail.com

Subject: Flowers 

Communicating through flowers is a forgotten language in the modern times. I’ve read and seen too much classics, minus the existential musings of Dostoyevsky, to have a small knowledge of what each flower meant. Interestingly enough, they each would have a variety of symbolisms and depending on the color, it also changes. 

During our first picnic date, you mentioned the bushes of Hydrangeas your mother would religiously tend over in your backyard. How a subtle change in environment causes them to wilt and how the color of their flowers change, as if they were magic or a game of chance. You liked the concept, admitting right then that they were your favorites due to fond memories. I passed by the library, once I walked you home, and checked out a book for it—plants and its up-keeping never one I gravitated to. I did kill the tiny cactus Garcia gifted me in my early start in the FBI, sadly.

Its’ change in colors are attributed to pH changes in the soil, blue is for acidic and pink is for alkaline. Your mother must have made sure to always keep it pink, a manifestation of her love for you. They do, after all, mean many things like love, gratitude, hope, apologies, and regrets in some Asian cultures.

I left you a bouquet of blues on your doorstep, love, before I had to leave for an assignment I’m still on today. I’ve always gifted you pinks, in every month, and in every anniversary. Did you ask yourself why the change in color? I hoped you did.

The blues bear my sincerity and gratitude in having the chance in loving you. As a kid who grew up with certain circumstances, a father gone, bullies in school, and a mother in need of my care, I never once thought I would have had the chance in love or with someone like you, for that matter. I’m not as smooth or extroverted as Morgan, I could never figure out how he picked up women everywhere we went. I’m not as reliable or authoritative as Hotch, someone who could silence a room filled with testosterone with just his presence. I’m neither of those things but you approached me anyways. 

I keep a single pressed flower from that bouquet in my handkerchief now. The very same one you clumsily embroidered my name on. It has become a talisman of sorts, a connection to you and our past. I’m sorry for breaking your heart and in the process, shattering mine.

Good night and please visit me in my dreams, even just once.

- Spencer

**

[Drafted 15.11.2019]

To: reader@gmail.com

Fr: spencer.reid@gmail.com

Subject: What’s In A Name

There’s a phenomenon that happens in our brain that leads to a perception of increased frequency called the recency bias. Giving greater importance to the most recent or the most known, like how a jury remembers a lawyer’s closing argument rather than the whole hearing. Or like how my brain tunes in when it hears the sound of your name, nickname or not. 

I found myself craning my neck to face some stranger shouting your name, even though the statistic of it being you, where I am now, is a definite zero.

Garcia mentioned she saw you at the local grocery a few nights ago. She brought it up in passing, meaning no harm but possibly also looking for an answer as to why you seemed intent on escaping her presence. It’s been another mistake of mine, I know that now, not divulging the truth as to what had caused our break up.

In all my emails to you, I’ve never did tackle the reason—fearing that I haven’t explained myself well enough and end up pressing send by mistake. By then, there would be no going back.

I had met JJ when I was young, naive, and still green from the academy. She, along with Elle and Garcia, were the first female interactions I had that weren’t hostile or coated with this leer or distrust from me being too different from the rest. They saw me as Spencer, the protege of Gideon, the resident boy genius—an important part of the team. Something I have never experienced, I was, after all, always the last kid chosen during group projects and gym class.

Looking back at it now, I had latched on to that warm feeling of belonging and naively interpreted it as a crush on her. Why not on Elle or Garcia, then? Elle was never on my league—she was too strong-headed, sharp on the edges, something she developed during her time in the Sex Crime division. Garcia was too similar—smart and liked all the same things I did, something I had hoped a sibling would be if my mother had opted for another. That left JJ, who treated me kindly, further warping my notion on romance and emotion.

Then I met you and through a series of unforgettable dates, I knew then that what I had for her wasn’t love. What I had with you was. 

I regret not making it clear for you that you were my first love. You had become an absolute point in my cycle of life. Days and months have gone by and I don’t know what to do with the love left in my heart, still. Briefly I wondered if it would evaporate over time, like water left boiling until there is nothing left, or will it all fade with time, burying itself in my all important beating organ?

The scent of your laundry detergent had long faded from my clothes, no matter how I try to lessen its’ wash, trying to cling to it still. Now all that’s left are my memories and the stale smell of cleanliness.

I miss you, my love. 

I miss knowing you were mine, just like I am still yours.

-Spencer

**

[Drafted 01.01.2020]

To: reader@gmail.com

Fr: spencer.reid@gmail.com

Subject: Happy New Year

The empty space on the crook on my neck misses the feel of your skin burrowing in into mine. It’s a new year and I’m all alone, surrounded by strangers who do not know who I really am—as a person or as an FBI agent. 

As fireworks go off in the night sky and couples and families greet each other a happy new year, my minds wanders to you and how we could be looking at the same sky.

Nostalgia seems to be a bitter trick of the mind, one i could feel myself wanting to sink into its depth—trying to live in the past. Emily sagely advises me to let it go, to move on as you no doubt had, after all, it had been a year now, but I find myself rooted in place as if the earth’s gravity didn’t allow me to.

Time had passed and the atomic beings in me had aged, I question if this is the definite end. Were you the closest I had ever come to a cliche happy ending? If I had noticed the signs in time, maybe we would have still be one.

I never did tell you where we were that night—the real reason why I had been late. In my defense, I didn’t want it to seem to be an excuse, a way to curry your anger. She went with me to pick up your ring that night. Sadly, work got in the way and I had to beg the jewelry store owner, with the help of Garcia tracking him down, to open shop just for me to pick it up. I had it adjusted you see—to fit down your finger.

There are many cultures that have the tradition of making a wish on New Year’s, you were my every wish.

-Spencer

**

His finger hesitated on the right click of his mouse. It had been numerous months of being away from Virginia and everything seemed to have changed without him. Stores that he once frequented were now closed and replaced with something new. Broken down stop lights he vividly remembers were replaced. And the team, once happy and unstained with the darkness of their cases, had aged and become jaded.

Spencer wondered if reaching out was the right thing to do. If reopening old wounds that never healed right would bring some sort of closure. The first night back home, he had caught a glimpse of her, far away and oblivious to his presence. It had brought to mind the urban theory of meeting people twice—how someone who’ve finished their story in his life were bound to never appear again. He’d never put much fate into those beliefs with no scientific backings but as he spied her crossing the street, Spencer found himself believing it, imploring it to be real. 

He sighed under his breath, eyes tracking the simple note he had written down. 

To: reader@gmail.com

Fr: spencer.reid@gmail.com

Subject: Hello

Hi. I hope this finds you well. Will you be open to talk? Just talk.

There’s no need to reply right now or even at all, for that matter.

If yes, I will be waiting at our coffee shop, the one you shared just with me, by the window this coming Saturday afternoon.

But if the burden is too much or you simply never want to see me again, I would understand.

Perhaps, now is my turn to wait for you restlessly. A penance two years too late.

-Spencer

He steeled his nerves before pressing ‘send’. The beating of the organ in his chest threatens to swallow him whole. Who he was could change within a couple of days—there now would be a definite ending to their story. 

Her Polaroid picture was still tacked on his work station, faded but her smile was still the same—warm and inviting. She lingers all around, ring still in his drawer, as if she might return. As if these memories and mementos can summon her back in his arms.

“Reid,” Emily called out. “We’ve got a case.”

He nodded, quickly leaving his desk to head straight to the conference room, unaware of the single unread message left in his inbox.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Request taglist for this series: @mega-kittyglitter-1 @ozwriterchick @flyingwithsilly @timewontgivemetime @vani3 @babyspiderling @alexa554 @ivet4 @starbright1002 @lunaryoongie @casey1-2007 @cherryblossomfairyy @iovediary

[katiekatdragon27]

Dandy's World Roleplay servers are so wild and unhinged that it makes me come up with AUs. And yes, it's shinyshrimp. I'm so cringe <333

So, while in the roleplay server, I got into an argument with a Shrimpo as Glisten about not being able to see proper reflections though Glisten's face. Then a Goob showed up (my sibling) and asked if Shrimpo was a vampire. Then they asked if Glisten (me) was a vampire. Then we asked the Goob if he was a vampire, and he turned emo. And then I shared this experience with my friends, and they egged me on to make an AU about it lol.

Glisten: So. Is this the part where we make out, orrr-?? Shrimpo: WHAT??!

Dandy: No cuz it's genius! If they hate each other, that's two less annoying people to deal with! (He underestimated the power of enemies to lovers)

The general plot is Glisten is a monster hunter and Shrimpo is a human turned vampire-werewolf (he has no memory of how that happened btw). Glisten is specifically hired by Dandicus to hunt down and kill Shrimpo. Glisten manages to hunt Shrimpo down, but since Shimpo hasn't been non-human for that long, he puts up a kinda pathetic fight. Glisten puts Shimpo's arrogant ass in place and refuses to kill him so they can fight honorably. Shrimpo takes this personally lol and strives to get better at fighting so he can show up Glisten.

Badabing badaboom, enemies to lovers setup.

Dandy did not see that coming and it pisses him off lol.

Shrimpo: I HATE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Astro (to himself): WTF is up with this guy?

This was a doodle recommended by an awesome artist in a server I'm in (dunno if they wanna be tagged lol). Astro being a moon moth thing causes Shrimpo to howl at him lol. Also part of the reason Dandy dislikes Shrimpo lol. Also also, Astro is a witch.

Also also also, here's the emo Goob my sibling became when discussing vampires. He unemos when he becomes a weredog lol.

Below is a buncha doodles all about Glisten (and his failing mental health).

TW FOR UNINTENTIONAL S.H. PROCCED WITH CAUTION:

You guys know Wiggle from Bugsnax? You guys know Millie from Helluva Boss? Yeah. They were the main inspos for this design hc lol (the buck teeth part not the insecurity part).

I have this goofy hc that Glisten's og design never intended to give him buck teeth. When being made, the ichor messed up and gave it to him. Learning about this is his first instance of feeling insecure about himself, and he develops the mannerism of covering his mouth when laughing (bc it makes his teeth really obvious lol)

And since Glisten now has buck teeth, that means Shimmer also gets buck teeth! However, her reaction to them was completely different to how her dad reacted to his.

I have this hc that Glisten can't handle backlash that well. With the machine messing up with his face (his teeth), and his general vibe being disliked by many people of the time of Gardenview (prob bc the 90s and very queer-coded kids' character didn't exactly mix well), he feels this crippling pressure to be the "perfect" version of himself.

If he deems you lower than him, your words don't matter. He doesn't care what you think about him

However, if he views you as an equal or higher, any kind of negative opinion said to him will be taken personally, and will either be repressed into self-hatred, or actively worked upon in order to be "better" (which ends up hurting him more depending on the situation.) His need for perfecting also makes him a workaholic when in a spiral, leading him to self-isolate and just kinda hide away from everyone for a couple days, and sometimes injure himself trying to get better on his own (he has a tendency to scratch his arms and face too, only fueling his need for isolation).

He refuses to open the door and get food outside, so ppl will slide him snacks and things under the door. People still care about him, but he'll never them see him cry.

Glisten has such horrid insecurity that he will never let anyone see. However, not everything is bleak for the guy.

Shimmer: Hey Dad! Guess what!? My teeth grew in! Now I look like you! Isn't that cool?!

She was not born with them unlike Glisten. Instead, they grew in near her "10th" birthday. She was very happy to have them. I like to think that seeing Shimmer be so happy to have a very sensitive trait of Glisten and loving every second of it helps him heal a bit of his insecurity.

After all, how can he hate a part of himself that his kid adores?

Kids don't fix everything, but they can aid in healing lol

Have a good one dudes^^

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Peace & Quiet (End)

You read that right. This is the last drabble in the series (official ending. I may still end up writing more but this is where the overall story ends.)

Yes this means I will also start the actual nightmare that is editing this monster (170K words people. Help me.) to eventually post the full and complete version to my AO3 (which you guys will be updated on)

Either way. @spotaus You ready friend? (don't worry. if i even end wriitng more drabbles i will keep adding you)

But yeah.

Once more to learn it off

First Drabble Prev Drabble

No edit or beta as always. One more. to finish it off completely.

*-----------------------------------------------*

The sun is already setting by the time they finally get back home.

Nightmare yawns as he leans heavily against Dust as he watches Killer open the door.

Killer sighs and grins “Home sweet home.” And he walks straight towards the closet to search through it for something. Probably clothes.

Cross nods and turns towards Dust and him and smiles “I will get a bath running for him. You still got him?”

Dust hums in acknowledgement. Nightmare isn’t too surprised. The meeting went on for forever and Nightmare is also tired. He has no doubt that Dust is even more tired as he actually had to interact with everyone and made sure people left Nightmare alone.

Cross shoots them another smile before going inside.

Horror cleans up the things they took along as he goes to warm up some food. All preprepared for this because they all assumed it would run late.

Dust walks inside and joins Nightmare in the kitchen as he waits for Cross to shout the bath is ready.

Nightmare watches as Dsut leans back in the chair and breaths deeply. He looks so tired.

Nightmare feels bad about having wanted to do this whole thing. Sure it made sense to reintroduce him and cement his whole standing and what happened… but it tired his dads out so much… He is being a bother again.

He pushes his skull under Dust’s and mutters “Sorry.”

Dust hums confused and looks at him. waiting.

Nightmare looks down and tugs on the hoody. It was Dust’s old hoody, something about making sure he looked obviously tinier and younger by having him wear that. Nightmare doesn’t care too much. It is comfy and it feels and smells familiar. He loves it.

Ngihtamre manages to find his words “You are all tired… because of the meeting… sorry.”

Dust blinks and snorts as he nuzzles his skull “Not your fault.” And just holds him.

But… they had to have the meeting because of him. Doesn’t that automatically make it his fault?

A few heavier steps and Nightmare feels Horror’s hand pat his skull. Horror speaks softly “We needed to do this meeting either way. No matter the extra reasons. It was the right thing to do concerning what happened with you and Dream. The fact we are tired is to blame on those in the meeting who would not stop asking stupid questions.” Horror sighs with a smile as Dust snorts and nods his agreement.

Nightmare blinks and leans against Dust. He should have known they wouldn’t blame him. They never do. Yet it still surprises him.

Cross walks into the room and smiles “Bath is ready.”

Nightmare frowns at them “Don’t you guys want to bath first?” He can wait a bit longer. The itch on his spine isn’t that bad yet.

Dust just looks unimpressed at him before getting up. He shoots Cross a small smile before Dust takes Nightmare to the bathroom.

Nightmare can already smell the scents of his favourite soaps and feels himself relax a bit. Dust takes care to help him out of the clothes and Nightmare can see a small pile of clean clothes by the side. Seems like that is what Killer had been looking for.

Dust hums as he looks at his spine.

Nightmare waits patiently as his feet are already allowed in the water and he hums happily at how warm the water is.

Dust nuzzles his skull “Going to remove the bandage.”

Nightmare nods as he waits. It is still uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to anymore. He knows that Dust will be careful and try his best to make it hurt as little as possible and that he will make it better. So Nightmare stays still and lets him remove the bandages.

Dust hums and softly checks his spine “It looks irritated… Why didn’t you say anything?”

Nightmare blinks. Huh… had it been that bad? Nightmare looks down and sees that the whole of his spine is inflamed and red looking “oh…”

Dust’s hands are gentle as he checks everything.

Nightmare tries to think back but ends up just not being able to remember if it really hurt badly “I didn’t… Notice? It is strange but it just doesn’t hurt as much anymore… any discomfort is just easy to ignore?”

Dust frowns “you don’t need to ignore your pain Nightmare.” the hands help him into the water and Nightmare’s breath hitches as he feels his spine act up for a moment before it settling back in bearable again.

Nightmare hums and leans into the hands helping him clean-up “I didn’t mean to? It just kinda… it doesn’t hurt that bad anymore so I guess I just accidentally ignore it? Other stuff was more important today and I focused on that instead.” He didn’t mean to ignore his discomfort. It just happened because stuff was more important today and-

Dust hugs his skull and mutters “Your comfort is more important than some stupid meeting. We only really needed to show our faces. Next time, just tell us even if it gets slightly uncomfortable okay?”

Nightmare blinks and nods as he leans back.

Dust hums and helps him cleanup before helping him out of the water again. He dries him off gently. Dust takes the time to take care of Nightmare’s spine. Nightmare can feel him put on some healing cream on it before putting on clean and new bandages. After that Dust helps him into his warm and soft pyjamas.

Dust picks him up and take shim back to the kitchen where some food is waiting for him already. Nightmare yawns as he just leans against Dust. He honestly doesn’t even want to eat. He just wants to lay in bed together with his dads and watch a movie. Nightmare doesn’t even care which movie. As long as he can lay between them and feel safe.

Still he eats. Horror gets sad when he can’t eat so Nightmare doesn’t like to skip meals.

He rubs his sockets as Killer picks him up. Nightmare looks at him confused before looking around. He likes Killer holding him too. But hadn’t Dust been doing that?

Killer notices and grins “Dust is getting cleaned up and ready for bed himself.”

Nightmare takes a moment and sees that Killer is in his own sleeping wear and he takes him to the nest.

Nightmare hums and leans against Killer as Killer moves blankets and pillows around before sitting down with him. Nightmare turns fully towards Killer and just pushes as close as he can. Killer grins as he lays in the pillows with him “There. All comfy. Ready to sleep?”

Nightmare shakes his skull even as he yawns “No…” another yawn “Want everyone here.”

Killer nods “and they will get here quickly.” A soft nuzzle to his skull.

Nightmare hums as he leans against Killer. He is starting to fall asleep but forces himself to stay awake.

Killer just keeps holding him as he lays back with him.

Some movement and a soft voice “Is he asleep?” it is Cross!

Nightmare turns and goes to answer but yawns instead.

Cross looks guilty as he smiles “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up.” Cross rubs his skull.

Nightmare hums as he leans into the touch “Not asleep.” He yawns again “Wanted to wait.” Wait for them all to be here. Snuggle together and… and…. Something else but Nightmare isn’t sure anymore.

Cross nods as he lays nearby “Like this? This better?”

Nightmare nods and a moment later Dust and Horror join them too. They say something about having to clean up and lcok up but Nightmare doesn’t care much.

They are all here.

Nightmare snuggles close to someone, Horror he thinks, and closes his sockets fully. Finally. Time to sleep.

His dads are all there and all have contact with him in some way. Nightmare can feel and hear them all near and knows that no one will hurt him when they are nearby.

Even if Nightmare isn’t sure on everything he is sure of that.

Safe and sound.

And so he goes to sleep. Tomorrow will be another day in their lives with their farm and homework. Things will go back to normal.

Their normal. In their home.

*-----------------------------------------------*

And that was it. For now. The story has ended. The group has their home. They tied up their lose ends. and Nightmare trusts and lvoes his four dads more than anything.

They are happy. And that is the perfect ending for them.

[ofbardsandmen]

nothing ever excites me more than a spontaneous genshin, or more particularly, mondstadt discovery. i sat diluc upon the barbatos statue as a nice spot to go afk on without being interrupted by repetitive idle animations and voicelines (sorry diluc, this is nothing personal). my volume was turned up more than regularly by accident, and my in-game music was off despite how much i like the original game soundtrack. aNYHOW- i was about to go afk when i heard some strange noises that i didn't recall hearing in mondt before. it made me pause and turn my volume up even more. in the video above, it's kind of hard to discern the brief sounds over the noise of the wind up on the statue and in mondstadt in general, but when the wind dies down a little, you can distinctly hear voices of people, and what shocked me the most – neighs of horses. i have no clue whether it is just me discovering this only now, after 4 years of playing this godforsaken game and clearly not having paid enough attention to mondstadt's sfx before, but i still felt the need to share this terribly interesting tidbit in case there's other clueless mondstadt enthusiasts like me.

[ssaseaprince]

Not to get political, but does Hannibal count as copaganda? Discuss

[gemharvest]

Might not be exactly what you asked for but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go into more depth about the bf and pico drawing with the kinto pet song lyrics 🙏🙏🙏🙏 it has haunted me in a good way and I will explode without more

UR MORE THAN FINE DWWW it's easier for me to ask for prompts but I LOVE ASKS IN GENERAL I like getting to ramble. Forever and always if you see me post something and you want me to elaborate on it/ have specific questions/ literally whatever PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED TO SEND AN ASK IN !!!

okay needed that out of the way first LOLLLLL

The like. Images I get in my head when I listen to this song drive me insane like this was just me putting it into one image but I could deadass do a full PMV if I had the time.

Obvi I prefer to draw in a more Funkin'-influenced style, but esp. with how Pico is drawn I hope it's clear I was leaning into the Pico's School side of things.

(continuing under a cut because I am about to Ramble)

I don't think I was consciously thinking abt it the other night BUT at least the first verse makes me think. Of the Love Conquers All version of Pico's School. An ideal ending; Cassandra is convinced not to carry out her plan, nobody dies, Pico certainly wouldn't be Going Through It. Maybe in this ideal ending they (Pico & BF) wouldn't have split. "In this world, we're friends forever".

I also imagine it as like.. basically how the art I did ended up being. They're just black lines on a white background. Faces obscured. Maybe with some visual effects that distort things too/ some pixelation whatever. I actually think I was planning to have some parts of that pixelated but forgot by the time I was home and could draw; might have been for the best but here's a version with a biit of what I'm talking abt.

They're in a void. Separate from the real world, but happy. Stuck in a loop of the happiest time of their lives (mostly thinking from Pico's perspective with that lol). Is that not better than having to continue on in a fucked reality?

Of course, that's not real. It's just an imaginary loop of "what if"s in Pico's mind. It's a world he built for Boyf.

In this world, Boyfriend is always following with Pico, always showing him kindness and always smiling. Pico's emotions are less readable; maybe in a proper PMV I'd give him his mouth too so he can show he is at least somewhat happy, but despite being the "leader" of the two, he is much more passive, reserved. They are always holding each other's hands.

Verse 2 would be the inverse (lol), signaled by the stronger beats kicking in. White lines on black background. It's no longer the ideal world, and instead the "real world". Real, but distorted by trauma. "Inside my code, you'll always be". The world Cass built for Pico.

The bit of instrumental between verses 2 & 3 would be the Real real world, going forward to when FNF would take place; Pico and Boyfriend reconnected, through less than ideal means, though reconnected nontheless.

We're back to black lines on white background, but everything's less distorted. There's more details too, the world not just being a hazy backdrop for Pico and Boyfriend to play around in, but real.

He's different from Pico's memories, obviously, drawn now in the FNF style fully. More confident, still stupid. He has Girlfriend now.

The first 2 lines of verse 3, his imagined worlds and the real world melt together. Mixed in ways that highlight a feeling of off-ness. Everything feels strange, distorted, unreal.

The last 2 lines it's just Pico and Boyfriend hanging out alone. "All that's left is me and you/Lots of fun that we can do". Boyfriend cheery as ever, while Pico is visibly nervous-- uncharacteristic for him but we don't see if Boyfriend notices.

The strong beat kicking in again sends us back to the imagined world. The good world. But things are wrong. The real world is slipping in, things are no longer stagnant; no longer perfect. Visual distortions/ glitches worsen.

Pico could delude himself when he hadn't known where Boyfriend was; now that he's back, his world warps. No longer under his control. He is not in the lead.

The first half of the outro Boyfriend is still mostly playing along, though still seems to be growing disinterested. Pico is noticably anxious, clearly seeing how the other is no longer like a puppy at his side. Boyfriend is pulling away. Why is he pulling away, when everything's "perfect"? Why is everything going wrong. "The world I built, designed for you".

The second half of the outro, Boyfriend is now actively pulling away. He no longer looks like the idealized, young Boyfriend. He's older, a stranger, he doesn't care for Pico anymore. Pico is older now too, desperately holding on to Boyfriend. Unwilling to let him go again, first in the real world and now in his mind. Boyfriend refuses to hold his hand but Pico still grips onto his arm. Their eyes finally become visible in the imagined world.

Pico's behavior mirrors Cassandra's involvement in the second verse, though unintentionally violent as opposed to her intentional violence. He's selfish, desperate to hold on to his world; to Boyfriend. He's hurting the imagined Boyfriend in the process, but that is second in his mind to him so desperately trying to avoid a second heartbreak. Anything to keep his world together, his peace. Without it, he just has the dark.

Beyond this screen, you cannot leave Inside my code, you'll always be Endless fun that we can do In a world I built for you

In the final instrumental and as the song fades out, Pico wakes up. He's shaken, disgusted by how he acted in his mind and feeling like he's nothing but an anchor to Boyfriend, holding him back. He can't keep clinging to this false reality, nor can he pretend he's doing any good by being in Boyfriend's life again. His mind is made up.

...

LOL I hope the way I summarized The Thoughts I get paints the picture I get in my mind. I've got terminal artist brain I am imagining AMVs to near everything I listen to I am not joking; had to take a break halfway through typing this to walk around a store and I was looping KATAMARI by femtanyl for like half of it imagining an edit in my head. I can imagine anything jpeg.

I wanna very much stress that all that above would have been filtered through Pico's mind. He's not actively hurting Boyfriend, but he's fucking terrified of doing so and he feels so fucking guilty for continuing to hold on to the past they had. I guess it wouldn't be apparent from what I described but he'd also feel guilty for still having feelings for him when the other has moved on and even has a girlfriend.

His world, once his perfect escape from the anguish of his reality, corrupts as he feels worse and worse over even entertaining the thoughts. Him deciding to forget his world and, in turn, go to cut off Boyfriend for the other's sake is not based on objective reality, but an act of self-sabotage that he convinces himself to be the best outcome for everybody.

^ Literally included him doing this shit in a part of that last fic I did you can tell this is something I find interesting exploring with him.

The tone of the song too just fucking.. it adds to the eeriness I'd want out of a proper PMV of this idea. The way it's clearly an homage to the IBM 7094 singing Daisy Bell; the voice and instrumentals just feel so unnerving. Sweet and innocent on the surface, but clearly holding bad intentions. Maybe not intentionally bad, maybe misguided good even, but they are not good nor sweet nor kind. I am talking about the song on it's own divorced from it being from KinitoPET what I describe here is just the feelings it gives me in regards to my favies.

Anyways uhhhh god I could go on for hours but I've been going off for long enough I'm sorry to anyone reading this who had to sit through my insanity. My head is now lighter with this information shared tho.. I guess in conclusion: I am definitely normal and neurotypical and can be trusted to listen to music and be into my games without creating the most devastating ideas known to man. xoxo

[topnotchquark]

Uhhhh you guys want some Bezz x Cele fluff? Because I wrote 1800+ words of Bezz x Cele fluff. Yes it's Boarding School au man wtf we live in a society of course I wrote the Boarding school au.

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

Bezz pokes at the scab just above his knee. It's freshly formed, he had absorbed impact from Pecco running into him on the field during practice yesterday. His kneepads had mostly protected him but caused the skin to rub off at that particular spot.

Bezz had always had the habit of picking at his wounds, more out of boredom than anything else. When Cele was around, he would simply ask him to stop torturing his own body like a little moth in the hands of a rambunctious toddler, but Cele had been away for three days from school for a family thing. The wedding of some distant cousin combined with some medical check that Cele needed in the city. His dad had come to pick him up and Bezz had walked with him to drop him off and to say hello to Cele's dad.

3 days shouldn't feel like a lot and Bezz had a thousand different things to do, what with the upcoming national level games season and schoolwork dictating his every minute, but he still thought about Cele. He missed sitting next to him for all meals, he missed Cele coming upstairs to see him after lights out, he missed how he would agree without much resistance when Bezz wanted to sneak out at night, he missed Cele foraging for fruits in the woods and bringing them back for everyone to eat, he missed running into him in the corridors during classes, and of course he missed him on the field because Jaume was too young to be a good practice session replacement for the team. 

Bezz is about to wreck carnage absent mindedly on his wound when Luca comes out of the phone room and pats Bezz on the shoulder.

The boys get to call home twice a week from a room divided into little booths, the attendant in the room sat there to note your name down and tell you to put the phone down when your time was up.

Bezz makes his way to the booth in the far left corner that Luca just left, he nods to Pecco in the other corner who is on call and dials his dad's number that he knows by heart. They talk about his preparation for the upcoming season and his dad tells him about things in the garage, next he calls his mum and she asks him about school and classes and practice and his little sister screams a quick hello to him and when he keeps the phone down with quick exchanges of "work hard" and "miss you" and "I love you" his heart feels a bit wonky. It's been years away from home but he still hasn't fully learnt how to squash that feeling.

Before keeping the phone down he makes a split second decision and calls Cele's mom, another number he knows by heart for some reason.

"Oi Bezzechi, you've been hogging that phone forever, put it down!!" The attendant shouts at him, his brows furrowed.

"Yes sorry please please please just one moment" Bezz quickly pleads as he waits for the line to connect. The attendant tells him to make it quick as Cele's mom answers. She sweetly asks Bezz how he's been doing as she calls Cele over to hand him the phone.

"Marco, is everything okay?" Cele's newly matured voice implores. 

"Uhh yes why wouldn't it be?"

"You're calling from school."

"Ah. Yes yes. Just wanted to tell you to, uhhh, yeah come back soon cele practice isn't great"

"Is Jaume not good"

"No no he's fine. Just. You know......"

"Hmmm. I get it. Listen Bezz, I need you to help me okay I have some stuff with me when I get back okay"

"Yeah sure. Listen I gotta go okay this man will cancel all my calls for the next month okay. I miss you, bye."

"I, uhh, I miss you too Marco, bye"

Bezz doesn't spend too much time thinking about Cele's request. He's probably sneaking some food into the dormitory which isn't allowed and the weird luggage checking procedure makes it so that you just have to be extra careful with the contraband.

The next day when Bezz comes down to dinner after practice and evening study he finds Cele already in the dining hall. He hurries over to him and immediately wraps him into a hug, slapping his back and ruffling his curls.

"I thought you wouldn't be here till tomorrow! Who dropped you off?"

"My cousin, he was on his way back to University so I came back early. Listen, Marco......"

Whatever it is that Cele wanted to tell Bezz is cut off by Pecco, Luca, and Franco gathering around him and asking him how was home and he better be up to speed for the morning practice tomorrow and what did the doctor say and if he found any cute girls at the wedding.

All throughout dinner Bezz notices Cele fidgeting nervously, pushing his food around as Luca talks about the rival regional teams they will be facing and the specific characteristics of every player he can recall.

Post dinner, the boys walk back to their house building in a group, Cele quickly dipping into the dormitory on the first floor as the rest make their way up to the rooms.

Before Bezz can go back downstairs to ask Cele what's up, Pecco reminds him to finish his trig homework lest he be skinned alive by the teacher and Bezz enlists the help of both Luca and Pecco to get through the exercises.

It's an hour past lights out when Bezz is finally done and before he has a moment to lie down Cele comes into the room. His eyes look a bit crazy and the pockets of his jacket are puffed up weirdly but before Bezz can ask any questions Cele starts yanking at his arm to get up.

"hurry up Marco!!!" Cele hisses, straining to keep his voice low

"Okay okay damn let me put on my shoes"

"Take the torch please" cele whines.

Bezz raises his brows but doesn't protest much. Torches are reserved for the big expedition sneak outs, the ones you have to plan for, the ones away from their usual haunts, torches are a liability, they draw the attention of the school guards. Bezz still takes his and hides it in his pocket.

They silently get out through the windows on the ground floor, holding their breath and watching their step so as not to alert the guards. Bezz has been sneaking out since pretty much his first year in school, so much so that he can navigate most paths in pitch black darkness. When Cele and Bezz became friends he started bringing him along, gently teaching him to be mindful of his arms and head and stepping around in a way that makes less noise. Cele wasn't the most graceful when it came to slinking around, but Bezz was okay with that as long as they were together.

The moon was shining above their heads, almost fluorescent in its brightness.  Bezz glances over at Cele's determined face, his lashes casting spider leg shadows on his cheeks. Cele's pale skin and dark hair seem almost ghostly and Bezz's heart feels so funny. He swallows to keep his wits intact and focus on the path.

"Wait Cele are we walking towards the lake?" Bezz realises that he's been straining a bit to keep up with Cele.

"Mhmmm"

"Wait wait wait no you have to tell me what's up you've been acting too weird."

"No Marco we can't talk here we will get caught please we have to go" Cele pleads with him and suddenly takes Bezz's hand in his to rush him along. Bezz feels too shocked at Cele's sudden gesture and simply can't find the words to protest. They walk for a few minutes where all Bezz can think about is the warmth of Cele's soft hand in his. Bezz thinks self consciously about the calluses on his palm and whether they feel weird for Cele to touch. Cele's plam, soft and smooth and warm and alive and real to the touch and somehow Bezz feels that whatever is real in him is emanating from that part of his body that is holding on to Cele.

"Here. Come." Cele lets go of Bezz's hand Bezz feels a little deflated. Cele walks near a tree and picks up a cardboard box and brings it to Bezz.

"I have rabbits."

"......you...what" Bezz thinks he hasn't heard him right. 

"There were rabbits at the wedding venue but I don't think they were being treated right so I picked them up"

"Cele what even.... how did you even steal them and oh my god is this area even safe"

"I didn't steal them Marco!!!!! They are young, kind of, I think they are almost babies, it was just three of them"

"Diobono three is a lot! Have they eaten?"

"I had left some lettuce, and I have more, I need your help feeding them"

"Okay okay fine, let's find a place to sit"

Bezz finds that inside the cardboard box there is a little pet carrier covered with a blanket. Cele pushes in some food through the metal gate grills but the bunnies seem to be asleep for now. 

"What's the plan cele?"

"There archery lawns have a place for rabbits. I will leave them there. I trust the school gardener, we used to have rabbits in my first year at school, he's good with them."

"You think nobody will notice three rabbits appearing out of nowhere."

"They will but they won't know it's us"

Bezz can't help smiling at the response. Cele trusts it will all be good so intently that Bezz can't help be infected by the same disposition.

"Do you want to hold them?" Cele offers.

"Uhh yeah okay yeah."

"Just be relaxed, okay"

Cele opens the metal grate a little and ushers Bezz to put his hand inside.

A warm delight runs through Bezz when he touches the soft fur. He feels them moving with their breath and gently gently strokes the fur. A smile breaks out on his face, wide and luminous under the moonlight.

"It's nice, no" Cele says as he watches Bezz's face.

"Yes, I didn't expect them to be this soft"

They sit a bit longer, trying to feed the bunnies, talking, trying to come up with stories about these rabbits that will convince people to keep them. 

Bezz asks Cele to hold on to the box and make no noise as he navigates a path to the Archery Lawns. Cele takes a minute to leave them in the enclosure, worrying about them. Bezz's reassurance a little ineffective as he says his goodbyes, leaving more lettuce and some broccoli in the carrier.

When they finally start walking back towards the Dorms, Bezz takes Cele's hand in his, his confident decisive gesture in sharp contrast with the nerves he feels inside. Cele offers no protest and holds on. Bezz feels breathless thinking about how similar Cele's beautiful hand feels to the soft rabbits he just held a while ago.