#i have had a week and a half i don't want to be the guy who accidentally starts mcytblr apartheid discourse

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 9: Work holiday party. Maxiel. About 740 words. (yes, 9...don't look at me.)

Max hadn't been planning on going to the work party.

He had been working for the company just for two weeks, barely knows the people in his department, is comfortable having a conversation not about work only with Pierre and Lando, his desk neighbors. He didn't want to have to spend an evening milling around a too fancy banquet hall, making small talk with people he had seen maybe once, and who probably thought he was too young to even be there.

And yet, here he is, a gin tonic in his hand, leaning against the bar and pretending he's really into the conversation Christian, his direct supervisor, had dragged him into. It's something about cricket, maybe. Or golf? Some boring sport, that's for sure.

He looks around the room, fruitlessly trying to find Lando who had disappeared half an hour ago, leaving him stranded, but all he finds is Pierre, an arm thrown around Charles' shoulders, giggling together over some fruity cocktail.

He sighs a little, trying to focus back on whatever Christian is saying, only to immediately get distracted again, supremely bored.

He really should have stayed home.

He waits for a lull in the conversation to excuse himself, taking his now empty glass to the other side of the bar to get a refill.

He's not planning on getting drunk, doesn't want to imagine what he might say to these old boring people if he loses his grip on his self control for even just a little bit, but a second glass won't hurt.

"Not one for golf, then?"

Max only manages not to startle thanks to years and years of training himself not to show emotions people could gain an advantage from, but he still frowns as he turns around.

"Excuse me?" he asks, trying to put as much annoyance in his voice without sounding too rude.

In front of him there is a man with curly hair and lovely brown eyes, in a very nice suit, a glass of something amber and probably disgustingly expensive in his hand. Max has no idea who this person is, but he has learned a long time ago how to recognise people who look important enough to know he can't piss them off, and this guy is for sure one of them. And he's worked way too hard to get this job to lose it because he was rude to some higher up at a stupid Christmas party.

"I saw you run away from Christian and Toto's corner, so I assumed they were having their annual dick measuring contest."

It startles a laugh out of Max, the way he says it so straightforwardly, dick measuring contest, forcing a too posh British accent, even as his other words curl around an Australian accent.

"Dick measuring contest?" he says, still laughing, watching the way the stranger's mouth is ticking up, amusement etched into the wrinkles by his eyes.

"They have a golf competition each year," the man explains, stepping closer to Max to set his glass on the bar counter, close enough for Max to smell his cologne, something unobtrusive and elegant, just slightly musky. It makes his mouth water a little, before he remembers where he is.

"They bet on it," the man says, stepping back, "and every year they argue about cheating."

It makes Max laugh again, half of it just to see satisfaction seep into the stranger's expression, sharpening his smile a little.

"You're new, right? I don't remember seeing you around."

It's an innocent question, Max knows this, but something about the way the man is looking at him makes it sound like he's flirting. Or maybe Max is just projecting, because there is no reason why this gorgeous man would be flirting with him at a work party.

"Yes, I just started," he answers, maybe a beat too late, offering his hand. "Max Verstappen."

The stranger's hand is warm and a bit rough, callouses on his palm that make Max wonder what he does in his free time, how he got them. How they would feel against his skin.

"Daniel Ricciardo," the other says, smiling his most blinding smile yet. "Enchanté."

Then he bends slightly to kiss Max's hand, lips lingering on his skin, beard rough against his knuckles, and Max wonders if this job really is that important to him, or if he'd be willing to risk it for a blow job in the hotel's nearest bathroom.

[notgonnaedit]

Confusing Feelings

summary: Mira struggles with her feelings, as does Hunter. Meanwhile, Althea thinks they're weird.

Warnings: none

A/n: this was a trade with @dreamsight73! Your OC is awesome and I love her!

The parlor was quiet, save for the soft hum of the music in the background. There had been no jobs for Clone Force 99 for almost a week. Even with Cid giving them everything she had, the team had nothing to do.

Althea sat at the bar, doodling aimlessly with her head resting on her arm. A familiar figure walked over and sat beside her. 

"You're a little young for the bar, wouldn't you say?" Mira asked.

Althea shot her a look. "You're, like, two years older than me," she huffed.

Mira rested her hand on her chest. "I'm actually ten years older than you, but it warms my heart that you think I'm younger."

Althea rolled her lamp-like eyes. "It's probably those potions you brew."

"They're poisons, Thea," the assassin corrected. 

The girl looked up at her. "I'ma medic. And how am I supposed to know what your poisons are if you won't teach me?"

The violet clad woman raised a brow. "Didn't you just say you were a medic?"

Althea huffed. "I still carry a blaster, don't I?"

Mira hummed softly. She knew little of Althea's past, but a girl her age should never have to fight for her life. She would know.  

",I don't know how you keep doing this, kid," a husky voice commented.

Mira was pulled from her thoughts and turned to see Hunter playing dejarik with Omega. The sergeant was losing every game, but he had a content smile on his face. His opponent was suppressing giggles, but was failing.

Hunter leaned back, hands on his knees. "I need a break from this thing."

"No! I'll go easy on you!" Omega practically begged.

A small chuckle escaped Hunter. "Alright, just give me a few minutes." He stood and ruffled the child's curls before walking over to the bar.

Mira's heart fluttered as she watched him. He exuded such confidence and leadership, yet he was always kind to the younger girls. She would never understand why he let her tag along with them, considering his protective nature, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"A little young to be at the bar, aren't you, kiddo?" Hunter asked, setting his hand on Althea's head.

The medic sat up. "Mira said the exact same thing." She huffed before muttering, "I swear, you guys deserve each other."

A nervous laugh left Mira's mouth before she could stop it. Althea looked at her, then at Hunter.

The sergeant had stiffened, and despite the black ink covering half his face, there was a faint red tint. Althea narrowed her eyes. She didn't know Mira too well, but she knew Hunter, and this was weird.

Omega had noticed it as well. She glanced between the sergeant and the assassin before her chocolate hues met Althea's bright ones.

"Riiiiight...." Althea slipped from her stool and moved between the two adults. "I'll just go and see if Tech needs help now."

The pilot had been repairing the ship from their last job with Echo. Wrecker was helping them with the heavy lifting as well.

"I'll go," Omega chimed in, standing to follow the older girl.

"I thought you wanted to play more?" Hunter asked her.

The blonde looked between Mira and her brother. "That's okay."

Great. Mira thought. Just when I couldn't feel any more awkward.

Once the two girls were outside, Althea looked at the younger. "That was weird, right?"

"Definitely!" She agreed. "Why was Hunter looking at her like that?"

Althea frowned. "I don't kn–" She stopped a sudden memory surfacing. "Oh no."

"What is it??" Omega pressed.

"Hunter was looking at her like how my dad would look at my mom." Althea grimaced and stuck her tongue out.

"Your parents?" Omega asked. "That means..."

"He likes her," Althea whispered.

Omega raised a brow. "But you can like people without it being...that. I like you." 

Althea shook her head. "No. He like likes her. Like ‘Lets get married’."

Omega scrunched her nose. "Ew."

"Yeah."

A beat of silence passed between the girls as they approached their ship. Althea put her hand on Omega's shoulder, stopping her. "We can't tell anyone."

"Why not?"

"If Hunter likes Mira but she doesn't like him, it'll break his heart. We can't let it get back to him that we know."

Omega hummed, nodding. Neither girl wanted to see Hunter hurt, so they made an unspoken pact.

Meanwhile, in Cid's parlor, Mira was trying to keep her cool. The girls had left her high and dry, leaving her with an incredibly attractive man she could barely exist around.

"So, they just left," she said in attempt to start conversation.

Hunter kept his gaze on the bar, refusing to meet hers. "Yep."

He always kept his cool during missions and jobs. He never got flustered, yet around Mira it was like he completely forgot how to act.

"Any idea on what the girls are up to?" She asked him.

The sergeant shrugged. "Thea mentioned helping the others on the ship. But I wouldn't be surprised if they found something else to occupy their minds."

"How would you feel about me teaching Althea about poisons?"

Hunter turned his gaze to the assassin before him. "What?"

It was Mira's turn to shrug. "She's been asking me about it lately, but I didn't want to infringe on any rules you had." Her heart rate kicked up. "I mean– I know you guys are close and I didn't want to take away time or anything..."

Hunter stared at the woman. She was asking permission to teach Althea about poisons because she didn't want to break rules or infringe on their relationship?? This had never happened before. Anyone else would have gone behind his back, including his brothers.

She stood there nervously, her beautiful brown eyes watching him warily. Of course she would do something unlike Hunter had ever heard of. She was unlike anyone he had ever met. 

His own heart rate kicked up a notch, his face flushing as he answered her.

"Yeah, I'd think that'd be great."​​​​​​​

[lanternlit]

smokedanced is now lanternlit

And with this I return, so excited to be writing again! Further changes...

I have moved Castiel and the Thirteenth Doctor here from their previous blogs (waywardfeathered/dochaes). If you were just followed, we were probably mutuals there! Hi! I plan to slowly follow everyone I had ongoing interactions with or asks I planned to reply to, on those blogs. Slowly, because I want to double check people's guidelines pages first. If you follow me back here, I plan to automatically reply to our things on this blog :)

I've rewritten my guidelines. The contents are mostly the same, but a lot has been reworded, and some minor things have been added or deleted, so it'd be awesome if you could give them a read. I guess this is technically optional, since they're mostly the same as before.

A few muses have been dropped. Kenna de Poitiers, Jeremy Bradshaw, Juliet Burke and Tyrion Lannister have been dropped as muses.

New muses have been added. Cas and Thirteen have been moved here from their previous blogs, and I have added Fifteenth Doctor as a muse. Jake, whom I added, um, nearly a year ago... finally has an about page, now, as well. You all get free shots to fire at me about how I had an OC among my muses for a year almost without any kind of an about page.

Some muses' stories have been altered. Namely, Mary Stuart is now a modern AU based muse, and I don't write her in Reign canon at least for the time being. Ella Finnegan has had her story altered, as well, basically the way her psychic abilities work have been changed. The latter will be easy to retcon in any ongoing interactions.

All muses have at least a dossier and a character premise page. This one is something I am proud of myself for, but also fuck, I got so frustrated trying to write the character premise pages that I can see it when I look at them, what with some of them having the most simple sentence structure and all, but I figured... better some information for my characters than none??? Everyone has something, now! Also, no more half the muses only having placeholder images on their pages! PRAISE THE ABSOL... I mean, my self-discipline. Because these past weeks I have just wanted to COME BACK AND WRITE, but I made myself have those tabs for all the characters first.

It is currently nearing 2am so pleaaaaase excuse me if this post is chaotic. Hi dash love you dash.

Lots of muses have been switched between their activity status. Current list goes:

primary muses: cas, hannibal, iris, izzy, jillian, the tardis, thirteen, will

secondary muses: edi, ed, ella, ever, garrus, lucius, mary, tali, ten

tertiary muses: charlie, clara, dean, river

test muses: chloe, eloise, fifteen, hurley, jake

Speaking of, right, Eloise has been released from "I need to rewatch Bridgerton first!" jail, and she's open for interactions sksksksksk

Guys, I don't remember what else I was meant to say.

The blog has had a bit of a makeover. Nobody look at my navigation page, the only thing I edited there so far was the colour scheme, it is outdated. I know me saying not to look is going to make people look but what can I do. Look at my muse directory and guidelines if you want to look at something, you sneaky sneaks.

The interest tracker has been updated. Chloe and Jake have been finally added on it. Cas and Thirteen have also been added on it. Fifteen has- you understand.

The tracker is the same one I've had before, but if you are interested in any of the added muses, please edit your responses. If you haven't done the tracker before, this would also be a very nice time to do it!

Going forward, I am going to go through my unaswered ooc messages and reply to people, I know there are a lot of you who have been on hold with plotting. Thank you so much for your patience. I am also going to start replying to things again, obviously. Now that my muse pages all have at least something on them, I can continue to work on them while my main focus for the blog is generally, well, roleplay. The pages being in such a state of WIP was a huge source of executive dysfunction for me.

I also plan to re-read everyone's guidelines just to make sure neither of us have edited ours so that we don't match anymore, but that'll not be done overnight with all of you.

I hope the url change isn't a huge inconvenience. If you could give this post a like, if you've seen it, that'd be awesome of you, though not at all necessary! I am genuinely very excited to be here again.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Update: It went well! I said things that I have not said in stand-up before, and people laughed at it! That was a big barrier for me. When I first tried stand-up a year ago, I told one story across the whole six minutes and people actually laughed at it, so every time I performed after that, I thought, I know people will laugh if I tell that one story. But if I try something else, it might be terrible. So I just kept refining that one story. Cutting it down to pull the punchlines closer together, adding new jokes to replace the previous filler. I think that story has now turned into a pretty strong and tight six minutes (as opposed to how it started, which had to be padded a lot to be able to do a whole six-minute set with only one story).

I had exactly one other bit that I did a few times last year, and worked well the first time and then badly but then well again. And I added some stuff to that too. But I just tacked it on before jumping into my original story.

Two nights ago (when I wrote this post) was the first time I performed without telling any of that original story. Which is why I was freaking out in the bathroom beforehand, thinking that I'm not sure I'm able to actually write funny stuff, maybe I just happened to hit on one funny story and that's it, I'll try this other thing and confirm that women are not, in fact, funny.

Weirdly, I'm more self-conscious about the other comedians than the audience. I want the audience to find me funny, but if they don't, it's not the end of the world since I won't see them again. What I'm really scared of is the comedians at the back of the room, who will hear me try this, and I don't want them to think, "Wow, how could she have been so stupid as to think that could possibly be funny?" And then never book me for a show again.

But that did not happen! The audience liked it! I did one completely new thing that lasted about 4 minutes, and then found a quite smooth way to transition into that "second bit" that I'd done before, and it worked again. But the new story worked too! I now have a third bit! A year and a half after I first performed comedy (though I've been very off and on with it so I've not actually performed many times), I have finally gotten myself a third bit. It's extremely slow progress. But I think at this point, I could probably fill a fifteen-minute set without much filler. I haven't - I did six minutes the other night, and the longest set I've ever done is seven minutes. But for the first time, I feel like I could do over ten and not run out of stuff to say.

It also felt like a bit of a breakthrough, getting the idea that new things I try will not always fall completely flat, and making me feel more confident about the idea that next time I get to perform, I want to try a couple of other new ideas that I've been thinking about for a while. I'm excited about this. I've got the rest of my life - job, living situation - relatively stable, and I can try other things. Also the two guys who run that night are really nice and told me that I should request spots there more often. Then the next night (last night) I went out to a different local comedy night, just to watch, it was actually a lot of fun and several of the comics told me they liked my stuff and I'm excited about it.

Anyway. Things are good right now. I'm off work for the school holidays, which means I have two weeks of freedom and also a third stand-up routine. It's a good day.

Fun fact about being the only woman on a comedy bill: if you're nervous before your set, you can pace in the women's bathroom and know that no one will come in there.

Source: Am posting this from a comedy venue's women's bathroom. If I die tonight, it will confirm the views of any audience member who thinks women aren't funny.

[megabuild]

im gonna be 100% honest with you man i'm not gonna post this in full because you are just going to open yourself up to getting clowned on again but i do need you to know this is my absolute favourite opening to any ask i've gotten ever.

[seaofreverie]

I knew about the post concert depression but no one told me about the post concert constant feeling of AAAAAAAAAHHH that lasts days and makes everything much more bearable and beautiful and some sort of ethereal type of hope is restored into the world, or maybe it's just the "seeing your favourite band after first thinking that it would never happen and later spending many months waiting for it all the while fearing that it wouldn't happen after all because of circumstances outside my control or feeling like it was too beautiful and wonderful to be true so ofc it wouldn't come true" part of it all

[soutsuji]

There's an English class on Golden Age detective fiction being offered next semester but the prerequisite for it is the intro to literary study class required for all English majors (which I haven't taken because I'm in a hard STEM major and don't have much time for electives, which means that I have to be really picky with my electives and only go for stuff I like AND doesn't have an awful workload) and also even if I did have that prereq, I wouldn't be able to take the class because it's at the same time as one of my major reqs. And also I'll be in two labs next semester and one of them is pure hell so like I literally don't have the time to take more than 13 credit hours (as tempting as it is to keep up my streak of taking 17-18 every semester even though it's been like really pretty bad for my social life and hobbies). Sigh. (Pressing my hand wistfully against the glass) maybe someday they'll offer the class again

[cassmouse]

Absolutely fuck Ghostbusters Frozen Empire for being such a bad film but containing such a good sapphic plotline because it's literally been living in my head rent free since I saw the film and that's horrendously confusing because I DIDNT ENJOY THE FILM ITSELF BUT JUST THE LESBIANS THE STAR CROSSED LOVER-NESS OF IT ALL JUST AUGH

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes

[anotherpapercut]

I'm trying so fucking hard to organize my work place and I just cannot get people to show up to meetings or have conversations with other people. we have like 62 confirmed yesses and we need to have like 120-130 minimum by the end of February to be able to go forward

[britneyshakespeare]

i am like. unreasonably mad right now.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[yuquinzel]

atsumu who goes above and beyond to impress you, his crush and classmate of four years, in all definitions of “impress.”

honestly how the fuck isn't it obvious to you by now, he might as well be walking around with “i like y/n” tattooed on his forehead.

you mention you like guys that can cook once and holy fuck atsumu who still doesn't know how to use the microwave without quite literally burning the food, who's never chopped onions before without ending up with enough cuts to bandage his whole hand— that atsumu practices for weeks and stays up till 2 am to prepare for the lunch he'll make for himself, because osamu said said no and then because you bring homemade lunch to stay and eat in class with your friends— he'll casually just plop down on the seat next to you, his friends will then very obviously willingly talk loudly about his lunch and he'll just throw in a, “yeah, made it maself, 'm a solid chef, who do ya think taught 'samu?”

okay if that didn't get your attention, no worries, what are his friends there for?

if atsumu gets lucky in a day and catches you chatting away with your friends in the hallway, then he instructs his friends to walk past you, hover in the corner, just within your earshot— “'kay, so when we pass her by, ya gotta speak ma name real loud, loud enough so she can hear it, but don't annoy her”

and so for the time you stand there, trying to hold a conversation with your friends, all your mind can really focus on is the, “atsumu was so fucking good in practice today, if we're gonna win, then it'll be all him”

and then you hear the subject of the conversation speak, “nah, we're a team, every time we win, it's all thanks ta you guys,” because you also mentioned you like modest, humble guys.

god forbid the days you're absent in class.

atsumu who's sulking all day, doesn't know what the fuck is going on in classes, he's half in and half not in every conversation, even his passes are sloppy and weak. to the point osamu and suna are concerned, well, in their own ways, “are ya constipated or something, yer missin’ your spikes and yer passes as clumsy,” osamu says off-handedly.

“i heard y/n didn't come today, i think her friends said she's sick.” suna chips in, and atsumu shrinks in his spot like a grumpy cat.

“i already know that, wouldn't have come today if i knew she wasn't comin’.”

“you'd miss practice then.”

“don't care, don't talk to me, don't wanna do anything, what's the point.”

“down fucking bad,” suna muses, and atsumu glares at him.

atsumu's day is ruined and his disappointment is immeasurable. why did you get sick? how could you get sick? now he's worried and half of himself and his passes are shit and god, he wants to see you. he feels like he could die.

then when you finally show up the next day after what felt like eternity to atsumu, you find on your desk a pile of snacks with a little note— banana milk, everyone knows it's your favourite, the bar of chocolate they only sell down the convenience store near the school, the glazed donuts that you're always eating in class, and a lot of bubblegums that only one person in class knows you like— atsumu's handwriting is rushed and barely comprehensive but you know it by heart because he doesn't know you saw him slip the note you found in your locker this morning, and countless other mornings—

“i hope you smile because of this”

atsumu as a secret admirer is... not so secret because he's still unaware that you see him every morning, and let him giggle to himself as he slips the notes and the strips of bubblegums in your locker— you don't even like that flavor.

but he gave them, so you think they might just be your favourite.

then again, maybe atsumu doesn't want to be a secret admirer.

atsumu has a crush on you and you know that— he's very obvious. but he's also very dense and doesn't realise that everyone besides him can see you like him too. he doesn't know the only reason you bring homemade lunch is because he had started to eat lunch in class with his friends. you stand in the hallways with your friends pretending to talk so that when atsumu's walking past you, his friends will practically yell his name and you'll see him blushing shyly. he still doesn't know you come to his every match, cheering for him and scream with joy at every one of his scores.

atsumu makes it obvious he has a crush on you but is stupidly dense that you reciprocate all the same :'))))

© yuquinzel 2024 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

POSTING BECAUSE WHY TF NOT HUH HUHHHHHHHHH

@kyoghurts hi bbg

[foxy-eva]

A Lesson in Faking it

Summary: An evening of fake dating leads to a night of revealing true feelings

Request: They have to pose as a couple and heavy make out in a club or a bar to get the attention of an unsub. When the case is over they also have to share the hotel bedroom

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Fake dating in a swinger club, mentions of case related violence, consensual voyeurism (because they are in a swinger club) including BDSM scenes, implied bisexual reader, awkwardness, tension, jealousy, heavy kissing, fingering, protected penetrative sex

Word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

Joining the BAU came with a lot of new experiences for you. Today you learned that going to a swinger club with Spencer Reid would be one of them. 

It was the hunting ground of the latest unsub you chased and you and the good looking doctor just happened to be the same age group as his previous victims. So it was only logical that you’d have to pose as a couple to finally catch this guy. 

Spencer was resistant at first but when he realized it was the only good option your team had at catching this guy, he agreed at last. 

“Let’s do this, babe!” you chirped as you stepped into the backseat of the car where Spencer was already waiting for you. He raised his eyebrows when he heard the nickname you chose for him.

Luke drove the car while Emily explained the details of your mission. The overly confident demeanor you displayed was your way of hiding the fact that posing as a couple with Spencer would certainly be your downfall. For weeks you had been pining after him while desperately trying to not let your true feelings show. 

From the corners of his eyes your coworker ogled your outfit and you couldn't ignore how he licked his lips while doing it. The lacy top you wore barely covered your skin and left little to the imagination. Together with skin-tight black leather pants it was the perfect outfit for a fake date night at the swinger club. 

Turning to Spencer, you looked at his clothes. He was wearing a black dress shirt and suit pants, not too different from his usual work attire. With a playful smirk you reached for his shirt, prompting him to almost jump at the contact. 

“What are you doing?” he squeaked, his voice a lot higher than usual. 

He didn't stop you when you undid the first two buttons of his shirt. “Making you look less like an agent,” you explained.

“Reid, you better get used to her touching you,” Luke laughed while looking at the rear-view mirror. “Don’t bust this mission right away.”

“We’re not undercover yet,” he retorted while rolling his eyes.  

“Maybe you two should talk about your boundaries before you go in,” Emily suggested with a firm tone. “I don't want either of you to be uncomfortable.”

Spencer sighed at her words. “That’s gonna be difficult in a swinger club.”

Emily turned around to look at the two of you. “You said you were okay with it. We can abort this mission right now if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No, it’s fine,” Spencer said and looked at you. “As long as you’re okay with it, too.”

You nodded. “I’m good.” 

That's what you had convinced yourself to believe, at least. Being surrounded by half-naked people in an overtly sexual environment while trying to catch a killer with your ridiculously attractive coworker was certainly not an easy task. Neither Spencer nor you had been to a place like that before. It was hard to imagine what exactly would expect you and how that would make you feel.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” Spencer asked, concern written over his face. 

Despite Emily’s suggestion to discuss exactly that, his question still caught you by surprise. Imagining his hands brushing along your body let your heart beat uncomfortably fast inside your chest. 

“Uhm… yeah, I am. Just not uh… everywhere,” you awkwardly laughed.  

“Just be reasonable,” Emily requested. “I really don’t want us to end up in a meeting with HR.” 

“What about kissing?” Spencer asked both you and Emily. 

A silent gasp rolling over your lips at the thought of his mouth on yours. Of course you knew that anything happening tonight was a sham but that didn’t change the fact that you yearned for his nearness nonetheless. 

“If you're both comfortable with it,” your unit chief answered. 

Without thinking too much about it, you said, “I’m okay with it.” 

A reassuring smile spread over Spencer’s face. “Yeah, me too.”

“Make sure to never separate and have each other’s backs,” Luke reminded you. “You're both wearing your ankle holsters, right?” 

In unison Spencer and you nodded. 

“From what we know he’ll try to separate his victims from the crowd by asking them to watch them or join them having sex. The men were all tied up when they were found, that's how he gained control. Don't forget that he’s extremely dangerous once you're alone with him. He has managed to overpower three couples so far,” Emily warned you. “So please be careful.”

There was no reason to worry, you knew that Spencer would not let anything happen to you. His presence made you feel safe and you were confident that this mission would be successful. 

At your destination, you got out of the car and instinctively grabbed Spencer's hand as you approached the entrance of the club. There was no hesitation on his side either, he intertwined his fingers with yours without making a comment. It felt natural, almost normal to hold his hand.

Once you stepped in, you were glad to have someone to hold onto. The sight of barely clothed people flirting and making out with each other was overwhelming. When you walked by a couple having sex in a jacuzzi, you felt the heat rushing to your face. 

It was almost impossible to focus and you had no idea where to look without seeing something even more scandalous. Spencer noticed your current state and gently squeezed your hand. 

“It will take a few moments to desensitize,” he explained seemingly unfazed. “Just try to relax.”

How he could stay so cool in a situation so awkward was inexplicable. His words proved to be right, though. After the initial shock had faded, you were able to focus more on your surroundings without feeling too much out of place. 

The people in the club seemed respectful and genuine. You realized that they were all just trying to have a good time in a safe environment. A vulnerability the unsub exploited. 

“You good?” Spencer murmured after locking eyes with you. 

“Yeah I’m okay. Are you?” 

He nodded before scanning the room once more. “Nothing suspicious so far,” he mumbled before turning back to you again. “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

His words made you smile and reminded you that you were supposed to pose as a couple tonight. “Thank you.”

Spencer placed his hand around your waist to pull you closer. “So, what are you in the mood for tonight, sweetheart?”

Leaning against his body, you winked at him before chirping, “I think I just wanna watch, for now.”

You made your way around the club, peeking in every room to look out for a sign of the unsub. In an attempt to merge into the crowd, you tried your best to act like a couple enjoying the show. It was weird and awkward to be there but having Spencer by your side made it tolerable. After a while curiosity took over as you took a look around the club. 

You stood in the doorframe of a room with a couple having the most sweet and loving sex when a sigh fell from your lips. It had been a while since you were intimate with anyone. Watching someone else in such a vulnerable moment let your heart yearn for a similar connection. 

“They are so cute,” you said when Spencer looked at you with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think?”  

Your coworker just shrugged and took your hand to walk over to a different room. The expression on his face didn't reveal how he felt and you began to wonder if the stoicism he displayed was just a cover for his discomfort. 

The next scene that unfolded in front of you was too intense to hold back a gasp. Skillfully, a man was tying ropes over a woman’s body in an artistic way. It was obvious how much she enjoyed her confinement, moaning loudly whenever another cord dug into her skin. 

You couldn't help but imagine how you would feel in her place. The attention the man paid to her was unlike anything you’d ever seen. It was pure adoration. 

“Woah,” you muttered. “That's beautiful.”

Spencer leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Do you have to comment on everything we see?”

Tilting your head to look at him, you retorted, “Sorry, not everyone can play it as cool as you.”

“We’re wired,” Spencer reminded you. “Our team hears everything we say.”

With a smug grin on your face you teased, “So, bondage isn’t your thing?”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled, “No comment.”

A smirk formed on his face even though he tried to suppress it. Maybe he wasn’t as unfazed by all of this as he led on. 

When you got to the next room, you almost froze in place when you realized what was happening. Two women, one more gorgeous than the other, were on a bed pleasuring each other. The skin on your face heated up so much you were practically glowing. With your mouth hanging open, you couldn't avert your eyes from them. 

From the corner of your eyes you realized that Spencer was watching you instead of them. “Interesting,” he chuckled.

Almost choking on your own saliva, you muttered, “Shut up.”

Your words caught the attention of the women in front of you. They both smiled when they looked at you. 

“You’re very pretty,” one of them said to you. The other one nodded and added, “Would you like to join us?”

“Uhm…,” was the only thing that made it past your lips. 

It wasn’t as if you actually considered accepting their invitation, this situation was just a little too much for you to handle. 

In an instant, Spencer grabbed your hand to drag you away into a private corner. 

“You need to get ahold of yourself,” he playfully scolded you. 

His implication that you were acting unprofessional made you angry. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Spencer stepped closer and let his fingertips drag along the neckline of your top, making your skin break out in goosebumps. For a moment you thought he was trying to feel you up. It surprised you how little you resisted his touch. In fact, his attention was very welcome and you wouldn’t even have thought about rejecting his move. 

Then you realized that he was looking for the microphone of your wire. When he found it, he pressed against it and leaned towards your ear while covering his own mic with his other hand.

“I can tell you're really aroused right now,” he softly spoke. 

Embarrassment clouded your mind when you heard his words. You felt like he had just caught you in the act. 

“What? That's not true!” you whisper-yelled in response. 

“Are you sure about that?” He took a moment to lean back and look at you before finding your ear once more. “Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving and–”

“Don’t profile me!” you squeaked. Taking a moment to breathe, you asked, “How is none of this affecting you at all?” 

That was when you noticed the rosy shade on his cheeks. Before he could answer, Emily’s voice echoing from your earpiece brought both of you back to reality. 

“Is everything okay? We suddenly only hear muffled sounds,” she asked, her voice laced with concern. 

Your coworker let go of the mics and said, “Yes, everything is fine.” 

“Good,” you heard her through the earpiece. “I don’t know what exactly is going on but it sounded like you two were arguing. Remember, you’re supposed to act like a lovey-dovey couple to catch the unsub’s attention.” 

“Yes, we’re on it,” Spencer said before he took your hand. “Let’s have a drink at the bar.” 

Without questioning his move, you followed him and ordered a glass of water at the bar. Sipping the cool liquid helped you clear your head and focus back on your mission. 

“Is it possible that he isn’t here tonight?” You asked your coworker as you watched him look around. 

Seemingly absent-minded, he said, “Maybe.” 

After a moment, Spencer placed his drink back on the bar and grabbed your waist to pull you closer. The sudden contact let a gasp fall from your mouth. His lips lowered down to your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, your arms found their home around his neck to pull him even closer.  

“Someone’s watching us,” he breathed before gently letting his lips graze over your pulse point. Before he proceeded, he wanted to make sure, “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?” 

“Y… Yes.” 

Without hesitation, his hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned in for the kiss. Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest and you couldn’t help but press your body firmly against his to feel even more of him. Playfully, your fingertips intertwined with the curls in the nape of his neck and you felt him smile into the kiss. 

His lips were so soft and tender but grew hungrier with every second passing. Feeling his tongue brushing against yours was enough to make you forget about your surroundings and you had a feeling that the current mission might have slipped Spencer’s mind as well.  

Suddenly, he leaned back before he mumbled, “He’s gone.”

Confused about what he was talking about, you mumbled, “Huh?”

“The guy who was watching us,” he clarified as he turned his head to look for him. “Come, I have an idea.”

Following his lead, you walked right behind him as he approached an empty room. He left the door wide open when he entered, allowing any passerby to watch whatever he was planning to do. Nervousness overcame you when you locked eyes with him, unsure of what he had in mind. 

Gently, he grabbed your arms to turn you around so you were facing the door. He stood right behind you as he placed his hands on your waist and leaned down to whisper, “Keep your eyes on the door. And please tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

Then he began kissing along your neck, licking and nipping on the sensitive skin in a way that made your head spin. However, it was nothing compared to the feeling that overcame you when his hands began wandering over your body. His fingertips buried into the fabric of your shirt as they moved further down to grip your hips. 

There was no way to hinder the moan from falling from your lips. Spencer halted his motions for a split second, obviously surprised by your reaction, before he continued. You tilted your head to give him better access as he continued caressing your neck while his hands explored your body. 

It was difficult to keep your eyes open but you still managed to watch the curious glances of the people passing by. One man walked by the room and lingered for several moments before he disappeared again, only to come back a few seconds later. He stood in the doorframe to unabashedly watch how your coworker manhandled your body. 

“Babe,” you moaned to alert him. “Don’t stop.” 

Your coworker understood immediately, his eyes fluttering open to look at the man watching the two of you. Now all you had to do was to make him take the bait. 

Your nerves were on edge, adrenaline rushing through your body at the thought that a potential serial killer was watching you. Turning your head, you found Spencer’s lips while his hands moved along your top to carefully touch your breasts. That was what seemed to catch the man’s attention. 

“Can I join you two?” He said as he stepped closer. 

Spencer let go of you to watch him intently. You looked at the unsub, faking your best smile when you said, “Of course.” 

Closing the door behind him, he walked towards you, scanning your body as he licked his lips. The way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine and let a knot form in your stomach. If this really was the unsub, you knew you couldn’t let this get too far and had to make your arrest quickly. 

Stepping closer to him until there was barely any distance left, you playfully cooed, “So, what are you into?” 

Motioning at your coworker, he said, “I would love to see you tie your boyfriend up and make him watch as I fuck you.” 

Spencer huffed at his words. One wrong move from the guy and you were sure Spencer would break his nose. His suggestion was exactly the modus operandi you saw with the unsub. There was no more doubt it was him.  

“Yeah?” you purred while reaching into your purse without raising any suspicions. Then, without a warning you swiftly grabbed his arm to pin it behind his back and push him against a wall. “What if I tied you up?” You snarled as you handcuffed him. “You’re under arrest.” 

“That was smooth,” Spencer chuckled as he stepped closer to assist you. 

After finishing up the arrest and the necessary paperwork for the day, your team headed to the hotel for the night. 

“Sorry guys, the hotel is overbooked,” Emily announced once she returned from the reception with keycards in her hands. “We’ll have to double up.” 

Before you realized what was happening, everyone of your coworkers quickly paired up with someone and left you and Spencer standing in the lobby. Too much had already happened tonight and you were too tired to try to convince someone else to share a room with you. If you could make out with him in a swinger club, you’d survive sharing a hotel room with Spencer. 

When you entered the room you quickly realized that there was only one bed. “Of course,” you laughed at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer wondered when he came to halt behind you. “I can sleep on the floor if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Yeah right,” you deadpanned. “You can grope my boobs but sharing a bed is where we draw the line.” 

Turning around to find his eyes, you noticed how the color drained from his face at your words. 

“I was joking. Relax! We’re all good,” you tried to calm him. 

“I still feel like I overstepped back there,” he confessed as his sight dropped to the floor. 

You stepped closer to him and placed your palms on his chest, tenderly brushing over the fabric of his dress shirt. “See?” you snickered. “Now we’re even.” 

Locking eyes with you, he showed you the sweetest smile. “What about your hickey?” he chuckled. 

In an instant your hand flew to your neck as you walked over to the mirror. With widened eyes you squeaked, “You gave me a hickey?!”

Inspecting the red and blue spot on your neck, you felt your cheeks heating up. The fact that Spencer had left a mark on you and everyone had already seen it before you could cover it up, made you feel dizzy. 

Spencer walked up behind you and found your eyes in the mirror. “Can I be honest with you?” After you nodded, he said, “I did it on purpose.” 

“Why?”

His voice was laced with a certain desperation when he kept talking. “I hated the way the people at the club looked at you. Like you were just another piece they needed for their collection.”

Confusion was written over your face when you stared at him through the reflection of the mirror. Focussed on watching everyone else back there, you hadn’t noticed how the other people at the swinger club had looked at you. 

“So you marked me?” you mumbled. 

For a moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you were just pretending but it was too hard to resist. I’m sorry, I overstepped.” 

His choice of words replayed in your mind once more until you realized what they meant. 

“Spencer,” you muttered as you turned around to face him. “Are you saying you were jealous? For real?”

“Yes,” he confessed.

It was as if his words broke the last restraint you still had. There was no more going back from this and you both knew it. Spencer still seemed surprised when you swung your arms around his neck to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. After the initial shock subsided, he grabbed your waist and reciprocated your motions. 

“I have wanted this for so long,” he muttered against your lips. 

Between more kisses you breathed, “Me too.” 

Weeks of longing and pining finally unloaded as you both gave into your desires. Walking over to the bed, you hastily began undressing one another until the last piece of clothing fell to the floor and you laid down on the mattress. 

Spencer took a moment to take in your beauty before he joined you. “You’re so pretty,” he cooed between more kisses. “So are you,” you answered as you welcomed him on top of you. 

His lips grazed along your jaw before they found your neck, littering it with tender kisses. When he bit down on the sensitive skin, your hands flew to his hair to tug on them. 

“Please no more hickey,” you purred. “I’m already yours.” 

Leaning back, he found your eyes, a soft smile painted over his face. Then he kissed you again, groaning, “Mine” against your lips. 

The confirming hum you let out in response quickly morphed into a whine once you felt one of his hands moving down your body. With purposeful motions it found its destination between your legs, making your body tremble at the sudden contact. 

Despite still yearning for more kisses, Spencer leaned back to be able to look at you when he began dragging his fingertips along your slit. When he found you already desperate for his touch, he sighed and closed his eyes for a second to savor the moment. 

You couldn’t hold back anymore and began rocking your hips against his hand ever so slightly. He wasn’t in a teasing mood and obliged your silent plea as he began drawing precise circles around your little nub. 

“Spencer,” you whined his name and noticed how his pupils dilated. “Please!” 

Two of his fingers lingered at your entrance for a second before slowly pushing in, making you arch your back at the sudden pressure. Your hand became curious as well and wandered down his stomach until it made contact with the tender skin of his cock. Before you could fully wrap your fingers around him, Spencer’s body began trembling. 

“I need you,” he whined, desperation clearly audible in his voice. 

Take me, you wanted to beg him before the rational side of your brain took over. “Do you have a condom?” you said instead. 

“Y… Yeah, I do,” he murmured as he carefully withdrew his hand from your center. 

Hurried and with little grace he got up from the bed to find his bag. He pulled out the condom and returned, finding you staring at him with raised eyebrows and a smug grin. For a moment you considered asking him why exactly he had condoms in his go-bag but decided against it. Right then you were glad he was prepared. 

Kneeling between your legs, he put the condom on before leaning over you to capture your lips in another kiss. You reached between your bodies to guide him to your waiting heat. He didn’t hesitate to push into you, a deep groan escaping his throat as he felt your tight walls enveloping him. 

The pressure he provided was almost overwhelming, making you whimper when he was fully inside you. Before he could mistake your excitement with discomfort, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pleaded, “Fuck me, Spencer.” 

Slow at first, he began pushing into you until he was sure that you could take the full extent of his eagerness. With purposeful motions he thrusted into you, showing no more reservations when you began singing his praise in the form of moans falling from your lips. 

When your walls began fluttering around him, Spencer realized how close he had come to his own downfall. Neither of you wanted it to be over. Both of you craved to prolong this feeling of being one. 

“You feel so good,” he praised you as his motions became more erratic. 

You stared up at the man on top of you, heat rushing through your body at the sight. Shimmering skin and unruly curls, crimson red cheeks and lips hanging open, lust filled eyes and scrunched up brows. Never in your life had you seen anything more beautiful. 

Your name fell from his lips like a prayer right when his hand moved to where your bodies were joined to press his thumb against your most sensitive spot. The way he caressed you sent shockwaves through your body, feeding the tension that begged to be released. 

When ecstasy finally overcame you, Spencer followed you into the sensation of pure bliss. Every pulsing of your walls was answered with him twitching inside you before he collapsed into your arms. 

Your fingers began playing with his curls as he evened out his breathing against your neck. It was then that you realized that even when you pretended to be a couple earlier, there was no reason to fake anything. It had been real from the start. 

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

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[inkskinned]

i was raised by a catholic deacon so as a kid - maybe ages 7 to 14 - i would have told you that abortion was only okay in exception cases like rape. i didn't even really understand any of the terms at play here, only how to parrot that there were "few and far between" exceptions, but abortion-as-a-whole was irresponsible and evil. i believed it was a bad form of birth control.

for context's sake - i still had a flip phone. google wasn't really a thing back then. the whole narrative was akin to the apostle's creed: i don't know that i ever thought about what the words meant, only that this was what i was supposed to say when asked. i remember being in 4th grade and having it down pat - abortion is evil, except in cases such as rape. my father wasn't insensitive, after all - he acknowledged there might be medical necessity to end a life.

what changed was that at 14 i learned how hard it is to prove that a rape has happened.

it was a boy, actually. and his piano teacher. and him telling me, crying, that nobody believed him that he didn't want it. and what if she gets pregnant?

this is the mark in a lot of our lives: at some point, someone will confide in you, and then you see exactly how often it happens. how it happens so fucking loudly, and nobody says anything. how often your friends, nervous, will shakily admit that while they love their partner, there are a few times that they didn't really consent, that they didn't really want it. for others, there are nights half-remembered in bars. for others, they married their partner at 15, so now it's "fine", legally. for others, there are yes moments that felt like a no. there were no moments that were never acknowledged. you say no but are told you actually said yes because of what you were wearing or because he is good at swimming and his life would be ruined or because he's a nice guy or -

in the last 8 years, my father has become radicalized. he now believes in "no exceptions".

but the truth is that there was never going to be a true "exception" clause. there was never going to be a grey area. i am not even really sure they believe in the concept of rape. and if they did - how would you ever prove it? in the six weeks you have to state your case - when it takes years in a court of law - the "rape exception" would simply evaporate under the continued pregnancy. you were never going to have a moment where you could privately tell a doctor - it's because of a rape. there was no box you could check. there was no form you could file. it was always going to be assumed consensual until proven malignant. it was always going to be your fault.

they also knew they couldn't actually sell the rest of us on this idea of it's always blessed. they knew in their hearts that every pregnancy should be wanted. they knew going in that plenty of us - even raised catholic, even having had this shoved down our throats - plenty of us still had too many questions about what ifs.

it's just they just didn't want to come off as monsters. they patted our heads and taught us they weren't insensitive. they just had these beliefs. and then they put their hands on our bodies. and said if you don't listen, i'm going to force them.