#i'm having the time of my life out here and you can't stop me

[letorip]

can u give us a summary of kiss with a fist 4 without spoiling?

lol... here's a spoiler

kiss with a fist [iv]

"you smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed"

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pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: just as things begin to complicate even more between you and tara, her life becomes even more complicated

warnings: blood, angst, curse words, kissing, borderline sexual content

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i contemplated doing this in so many ways and i ended up thinking it was just funnier if i answered with the literal story. so... it was at least funny to me. it's shorter than normal, just because i didn't want to split up an action scene that'll take place next time, so expect a much longer part next time.

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You didn’t like police stations very much, and you weren’t exactly doing a good job of keeping it hidden. Your knee bounced against the dusty linoleum in a quiet tapping noise, and although you yourself couldn’t hear it with the endless amount of phones ringing and shouting down the hall, Tara clearly could.

Her head rested on your shoulder, where you had slumped, and she placed a hand right upon your knee, stopping it from bouncing anymore. Her dark eyes looked up at you. “You’re making me even more nervous.”

“Sorry,” you rushed, quick to pull your knee away from her hand.

Tara frowned, looking back down to the tiling. “Of course this had to happen.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She shrugged, and you had to nudge her gently. “Tara?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. "Just Sam's license and her getting attacked at the bodega... I wasn't there, (Y/n)."

"You couldn't have known," you said, frowning at her. "Everyone thought all the 'Stab' shit was over."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "Mindy always says lightning doesn't strike twice, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really true."

"Or maybe it's just a crazed copycat. There's no way of knowing it's actually after you yet."

"That's not what Sam'll say." She had an uncharacteristic look of defeat in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. Tara was a spitfire, even to Sam. But she looked beside herself, wallowing against the soft fabric of your jumper. "Sam'll say that Ghostface is back. That we need to leave."

"Maybe she's right," you shrug.

"Maybe," Tara said. "But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave. I want to live, but... if it's not him, I can't just keep living my life on the run from whoever's chasing me. That means Amber won."

"Amber?"

"Yeah... Amber. Amber Freeman. She was my, uh, girlfriend."

"Oh," you frown. Tara's dark eyes looked up at you, nervously watching your reaction.

"Yeah... and she was Ghostface."

"Oh," you repeated. Tara never spoke about her much, and neither had the rest of the core four, really. It had never really dawned on you to ask, just because it seemed important to Tara, and for the longest time, what was important to her wasn't important to you. "Are you still nursing that wound?" you asked.

She smiled, but it did not reach the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes. It feels weird since she almost killed me, but there are times I really miss her. Grief demands to be felt, and all."

"Even if it's a murderous psychopath?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she snorted, turning her head on your shoulder. "Even if it's a murderous psychopath." Then, she grew serious. "We should probably talk about last night, right?"

You froze, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat. "Uh, now?"

"Well, it's just, I kind of felt something... I don't know. I know we said this was fake and all, and I don't know if you have your eye on anyone else right now," Tara began to ramble, "so if you do, don't feel pressured to agree to anything. I know I kind of made a messy situation out of this, and I don't even know where to go--"

But she was interrupted by the door down the hall opening. It was loud enough that your attention was pulled towards it, and through it came a woman with a stack of files in her arm. She smiled warmly at Tara, walking right over, and Tara seemed to recognise her, sitting up in her chair.

The warmth on your chest where her head had been was gone in an instant, and you would have been lying if you said you hadn't selfishly begun to miss it.

"Tara, right?" the woman asked with a smile, and Tara nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an underlying suspicion. But the woman just gave her a gentle smile.

"Kirby," she said, extending her arm out for a handshake. "Kirby Reed. I used to go to high school with Sam, and now I'm with the FBI."

Your eyes widened. If the FBI were now involved with the case, it was definitely not a good sign. You felt Tara's hand go to yours, squeezing it. If you were to ask her about it, she'd likely say it was to calm the nervousness you hadn't been able to hide on your face, but you knew that it was to steady herself, if anything.

"FBI?" Tara asked. "So it's really him?"

Kirby frowned. "I'm hoping it's some copycat, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not too sure. Is Sam still back there being questioned?"

Tara nodded, grimacing. "Apparently, both of us are people of interest. Our roommate's dad is on the case."

"Well," Kirby said, "I'll see if I can help him." She turned to you. "And who's this?" she asked.

"Uh--" you started, but Tara shook her head, interrupting.

"--(Y/n) isn't involved," she glared, defending you with a ferocity in her voice.

Kirby gave you a look over. "Are you sure? I don't mean to disrespect either of you, but are you sure you can trust them, Tara? It's never who you expect."

Tara nods. "I know they're not Ghostface. (Y/n) wouldn't lie."

(Y/n) wouldn't lie. The sentence made you sick to your stomach. You could see Calvin in your mind, laughing at how you got yourself into this situation. Alisha would've found it funny, too. You swallowed, standing up from the chair. You smiled weakly at Tara. "It's okay, Tar. I'll go home... just let me know if you need to leave... for the... uh, arrangement, or whatever."

She nodded, mouth drawn into a line. "Yeah... see you later... Duck," she said, trying equally as hard to smile. You turned around, walking out.

===+++===

You had pretty much collapsed into bed, the moment you got home. It had been an exhausting few hours, what with finishing your model and then rushing with Tara to the police station. Your final class of the semester was later in the day, so you would take any sort of sleep you could get.

And the sleep you took, waking up a few hours later with mussed-up hair and a final to get over and done with. You grabbed the model and your backpack, heading for the train station, and finally checking your phone for the first time in a little while.

Little Shit (do not pick up): mindy wants everyone at the park later, after your final

Little Shit (do not pick up): good luck with that, btw

Little Shit (do not pick up): also we should still probably talk about last night i didn't get to finish earlier

You gave a thumbs-up to the first message, and quickly typed back a thanks, before tucking it into your pocket. The critique was boring, but you couldn't help but feel yourself swell with pride when your professor complimented the small amount of green space you had put within the actual walls of the building. It had been Tara's idea, and you reminded yourself to thank her later. Now all you had to do was go to Mindy's weird meeting, and you could begin your break.

The group was sitting on a group of benches near the green, with Mindy hovering over them, her arms crossed. When she saw you coming, she raised her eyebrow at you in suspicion. You rolled your eyes, coming to sit down next to where Tara had saved you a seat.

She sent you a small smile when you did, weaving your fingers together. You knew that to the group she was just doing it because you and Tara were allegedly a couple, but just to you it felt like so much more than that.

And it made you feel a little bit sick, again.

"How'd your final go?" she asked, and it made your heart stop for a moment, the way her warm brown eyes looked in the soft sunlight. You shrugged, but could not stop the smile spreading itself on your face.

"The professor liked your idea."

"Really?!" she asked, sounding super excited, and you nodded. "Well now who's silly, for telling me it was a bad idea?"

"Well because it is a silly idea, genuinely who would think of that."

"I would. It isn't silly, it's cool."

"I'm afraid cool doesn't always work, Tara."

"It did this time," she said smugly, sticking her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes, knowing but not hating that she'd be gloating about it for weeks.

"Lovebirds, cut the chit-chat," Mindy shot, glaring in your direction, and Tara huffed in annoyance but begrudgingly turned towards her. "Now, as terrifying as it all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time."

"Mindy," Sam chided, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, sorry," she said. "The way I see it, someone’s out to make a sequel to the requel."

"What’s a requel?" Anika asked, leaning forward as if trying to understand her girlfriend's antics. You didn't know either.

"You’re beautiful, sweetie, but let’s hold questions to the end," Mindy teased.

From next to you, Tara looked more worried. "Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, but Stab 2 took place in college…"

Sam tensed. "So you think the killer’s copying the second movie?"

"Like a homage!" Chad suggested, looking proud of himself. The rest of the group shot him a look. "What? You all I know took French, it should not be a surprise that I know that word."

"Just a little bit," Tara teased. He sent her a small smile, one that you knew came from his massive crush on her. It only made you feel a bit worse about the both of you.

"That’s one possibility," Mindy said, nodding at the suggestion. "Heroes now in college? Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count?" she looked at you, Ethan, Quinn, and Anika. "Check, check, check, and check."

"I really don't like this," Ethan said.

"But it can’t only be about Stab 2," Mindy continued. Tara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" she asked.

Mindy had a glint in her eye. "It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore."

"So what is it?" you asked, deciding to bite on her theory.

"We’re in a franchise. And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise," she replied.

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling."

But Mindy wasn't deterred. "Now, rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings- you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

"Beheadings?" Chad asked, taking notes.

Next to him, Ethan looked rather lost. Quinn and Anika looked just as confused. You were glad you weren't the only one lacking a real understanding of how the core four operated. They had earned a right to be a little nuts after surviving Woodsboro, that you knew. But the whole thing seemed a bit conspiratorial.

"Rule Two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here." It was hard to absorb these things laid out as facts, and you struggled to follow Mindy's train of thought, sending Anika a wary glance. She just shrugged.

Tara noticed your confusion, sending a small squeeze to your hand and mouthing the word 'later.' You nodded, turning your attention back to Mindy, attempting to do your best to listen.

"And Rule Three, no one is safe. Legacy characters are cannon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. Sidney’s smart to sit this one out, but it’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. And that’s not even the worst part."

"There's a worst part?" You asked. Mindy nodded, smirking.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP, which means the main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You sent Tara a wary look at the suggestion, leaning harder against her. She tried to send you a small smile to comfort you, but it did little to stop the thought coming to your mind. You were cursed, that much was true from the sheer amount of grief that seemed to permeate around your family. It was a bad idea, to get so close to Tara, and that you knew. But it didn't stop the fact that you had a near electric desire to do so whenever she was nearby.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group?" Ethan asked, beginning to panic. "Am I one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Um," Mindy started, blinking. "Weird overshare, but at least that brings us to our current suspects." Her gaze steeled over.

"Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he’s so shy and dorky." Next to him, Chad shot him a more assessing glance.

"Why am I on the list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?!" Ethan asked, raising his voice.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shot back, crossing her arms in increased suspicion. She turned to Quinn. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

"Sex positive," Quinn corrected, "but thank you."

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I answered their ad online--" Quinn started, and Mindy scoffed, raising her hand up.

"Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough. 'Ad online,' good lord."

"Mindy, it was an anonymous ad, and you know we vetted her, plus her Dad’s a cop," Tara interjected.

"Tara, Tara, Tara," Mindy said, shaking her head. "Cop Dad? That's a great cover. Don't you get that's how these movies would work? Speaking of, while we're on Tara," she continued, turning to you.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi (Y/n)," she replied, smiling. It dropped to a frown. Tara's grip on your hand tightened. "(Y/n). The enemies-to-lovers, quippy 'annoyance' one of our main characters has incredible sexual tension with."

"Ew," Sam shuddered.

"Ew indeed," Mindy agreed. "Never trust the love interest." She looked over to Anika, who was smiling at her girlfriend. "Ever." Anika's face fell.

"Okay. So we’ve got our rules, and we’ve got our suspects," Sam huffed.

"Wait- what about the rest of you?" Ethan interrupted.

"I mean, I think it’s safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy shrugged.

"Agreed," Chad nods.

"Um, not agreed. Maybe the trauma of what you went through caused one or more of you to snap," Quinn suggested, playing with the nail polish on her fingers.

"Or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more! Ethan jumped in again. "And, let’s be honest, some of those theories online about Sam are--"

Tara sends him a death glare. "Don'y you fucking dare finish that sentence."

"He’s right, though. Face facts. If we’re all suspects? You’re all suspects," Anika shrugs.

You sent a wary look around at everyone and then another look back down to Tara, wondering which one would hurt her, and just how you'd be able to stop it.

===+++===

That night was the first night in a while nothing was expected of you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to actually relax. Mindy's monologue about how royally bloody fucked everything was now that Ghostface was officially back had set you a bit on edge, and part of you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You had thought the curse would get left behind in Nebraska, when you left, but it seemed maybe you had taken it with you, packed with your belongings. Maybe it was now affecting the person you had wished to protect from any harm. It still felt miraculous, just how Tara had wormed her way from your shit list to deep within your heart. Maybe that was the curse. Someone who could make you so annoyed could also make you feel like your heart was skipping beats.

You coped with the extreme worrying through a cooked meal and TV binge, flopping down on the couch and turning your ringer on, in case you were needed. You knew that Sam and Tara were likely preparing for the worst, and you also knew that you had been included on the list of suspects.

Maybe none of them rightfully believed you had it in you, but you also knew that even being a possibility meant that the core four had to keep you at arm's length for a while.

Or, at least, that's what you figured they'd do.

Right as the episode you were watching began to roll credits, you heard a hard knock on the door, freezing. Mindy had said something in a text, telling you to be cautious of opening doors when no one was scheduled to come over. You shot a wary look to your magnetic strip of knives, hanging over the hotplate. If you were just fast enough, maybe you could grab a knife or two, if Ghostface busted the door in. There was usually a phone call, wasn't there? Then why--

"(Y/n)?" Tara called, giving a hard knock. You felt your cheeks flush. Oh. You dashed to the door, not wanting to leave her on the step for too long.

When you opened it, you could see that Tara's own cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Did you run here???" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh...maybe," Tara said, suddenly finding the hallway outside of your flat much more interesting.

"I thought Sam would have you under lock and key," you teased.

"I snuck out..." Tara said, cheeks flushing again, but this time not from the run.

"Oh, so I'm harbouring a criminal?" you joked. Tara rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Can I just come in?"

"Do you trust me to do that?" you asked, curious. "I understand if you say no, believe me I get it. If I had been attacked or anything, especially by my girlfriend, I wouldn't trust anyone for a long time..."

Tara watched you ramble speak, eyes wide and dark and beautiful in the dim hall light. "I trust you... and I, uh, want some small amount of normalcy, like it was at the lab. Before everything got so weird, you know?"

You nodded, stepping aside for her to enter and then freezing. "Wait, Tara, what happened to your hand?"

You hadn't noticed until now, but her knuckles on the other hand had been bruising a dusty purple colour, still red at the edges. You let the door shut behind you, turning to her hand and holding it up in the lamplight of your hall. "What happened?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Tara's cheeks flushed again. "I punched a bitch," she said flatly. Your eyes widened even more, and Tara was quick to shake her head. "Just Gale Weathers. She wrote, uh, a whole book on Woodsboro. Called Sam a bunch of bad stuff. She actually was outside the station with the news and stuff when Sam was questioned earlier today... so I punched her."

You snorted. "Judging by your hand you definitely got her."

"Oh absolutely," Tara scoffed, as if she was offended by a possibility that she hadn't.

"You should probably ice it," you said with a wince, looking at the bruised skin. She scoffed again.

"What're you, a doctor?"

You shrugged, leading her into your kitchen. "I was going to be."

"Oh," Tara hummed.

"Yeah... took one introductory class and realised I hated it. It sucks too, because I gave my parents this whole speech about how I wanted to be a doctor because of our family, and I dropped the profession about a month or two later afterwards."

"Is that why you and your dad don't talk much?" she asked. "Is he a doctor?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. It was an amusing suggestion. "About as far as you could get from it, actually. But no, it isn't why we don't really talk." You didn't say any more on the subject, even though you could tell that Tara was curious. "We should really get you iced up, your hand is swollen, I can't believe you didn't show me this earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like my parent again."

"I'm just worried about you, Tara," you said, shooting her a meaningful look. She was staring up at you with those damn eyes again like you held her heart in your hands. "I mean, come on, let's just put a bag of ice on it or something, or--"

But before you could finish what you were suggesting, Tara interrupted you, throwing her arms around your neck and standing up on her toes. "Is this okay?" she whispered, voice low. It flooded your ears and squeezed the air from your lungs, just how close her lips were from yours.

You can't help the small nod, or the way you're probably dumbly staring at her mouth right now, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and your hands find their way to her waist, palming at the exposed skin of her cropped shirt with your thumbs. "I've, uh, kind of wanted to do this for weeks," Tara admits with a small grin. The words spin around and around in your mind like you're on some carousel of thought.

If you could have formed words, you would have told her the truth: you had wanted to kiss her since she walked in the room and you saw her for the first time. But you can't. So instead, you crash your lips onto hers.

Tara doesn't hesitate even a little bit, wrapping her arms around your neck and falling off her toes as she kisses you back with fervour. You follow her down, working your lips against hers as her hands give up on your neck and instead move to spread themselves out on the warm apples of your cheeks.

You're taken over by some other, hungry entity entirely, and you lift Tara up onto the kitchen counter, into the exact same place she was sitting when she asked you for help with this stupid scheme. It doesn't matter now, you're too lost in her lips. You feel her tongue push past and into your mouth, and her hands travel up your back to spread out against the back of your shirt and pull you against her.

You can't help the groan that escapes your mouth, and you feel Tara's teasing smile against your lips as she breathes in your smell. Your hands are still on her waist, sliding up so that your thumbs gently brush against the bottom of her bra. She shudders at the sensation, opening her mouth wider, and you can taste the lingering cherry of her chapstick on her lips.

Neither of you is especially sure how long you stay there, but when you finally have to pull away, you're scrambling for air. You lazily let your forehead rest against hers, catching your breath and struggling to stay on your feet. Tara lets her hands wander from your back into your hair, exploring the planes of your body for the first time, and you can't stop the small comment that worms its way from your mouth after.

"Exploring the merchandise?" you ask with a teasing, breathless laugh. Tara shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and looking up at you with that same damn beautiful look.

"You should come stay with me and the others. It's safer that way," she says, becoming worried again. Her hands rest on your cheeks and she kisses you again, softer, but just as meaningful.

You painfully have to shake your head. "I can't, you know that."

"I won't be mad if you leave town," she says. "I won't hold it against you."

You smile. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, Tara."

She nods, processing it, before crashing her lips back onto yours and tugging at the bottom of your shirt, but you catch her hands before she can tug it over your head. "No, Tara- Tara wait."

"I want you," she says.

"I know, but we should wait," you say, hands on the side of her thighs. "Wait until it's over. Right now, Ghostface is more important."

"He gets everything, (Y/n). I just want this. I want you. I know we did this whole thing about fake dating, and I know it wasn't real, but I realise that I want it to be. I just want you."

There's a burning in your stomach, burning for her, and you pull her in for another kiss. Only to be stopped by the sound of your door creaking open.

You freeze and so does Tara at the noise. "(Y/n)?" she asks, trembling. "Did you lock your front door?"

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN catch you all next time for a big ole action sequence and a whole bunch of drama

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

----------

From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

---------

It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

-

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

-

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

-

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 10 - Next

Daisuke: "Do you need anything else? I can give you my cookies if you like."

You were sitting in the bathroom, hugging your legs, your body trembling, you had a bucket of hot water and a cup to wet your body with it.

Daisuke was keeping you company outside, sitting and making small talk, trying to cheer you up.

Your body was covered in red marks from the number of times you had rubbed the sponge against your skin.

"It's not necessary"

Daisuke: "It wasn't your fault"

"I should have launched him into space when I had the chance."

Daisuke: "Like among us?"

His comment was so strange that you couldn't help but laugh for a second; it had caught you completely off guard.

"Exactly"

Daisuke: "Would you feel better if we do it now? Let's say he went out to fix the ship and got lost in space by accident!"

You kept laughing at his words, it made you happy to have him with you.

"Thank you for making me company"

You couldn't see him, but you were sure he was smiling with pride.

Daisuke: "Hey... he... you are not... You know...?"

That question brought you back to reality, looking at your body and sighing.

"No, I can't get pregnant Daisuke, don't worry about it."

Daisuke: "Anya told me everything and... I felt horrible... Useless... Maybe I could have done something and-"

"No one could do anything, it's not our fault for trusting people, the only one to blame here is Jimmy."

You finished rinsing off with water so you could go out and get dressed.

When he saw you leave, he got up from the ground to walk by your side.

Daisuke: "Are you going to launch him into space?"

"If you keep bringing up that idea, I'm going to give in to temptation."

You smiled at him to go check how the ship's trajectory was going; according to the calculations, there were only two weeks left to reach the station.

Daisuke: "What are you going to do when we get back home?"

"Well... I think I'm officially going to retire from space jobs... Maybe I'll dedicate myself to being a housewife during the day as a cover and a mobster at night to make money."

Daisuke: "Come on, tell me the truuuth" he said, laughing and pulling your arm.

"Well... I haven't thought it through yet, I've worked my whole life here, and now that they're going to fire us, I..."

Daisuke: "What would you like to do?"

You looked at him somewhat confused, as if you hadn't quite understood his question.

Daisuke: "You know! What did you dream you would be when you were little?"

"You're going to think it's stupid."

Daisuke: "Nooo! Of course not! I wanted to be a firefighter when I was little, but then I wanted to go to art school, although my parents didn't like that idea much at first - and when I couldn't get in, they got me this."

"....I wanted... to be a pastry chef"

Daisuke: "Seriously?? That's awesome! You should start trying when we get back!"

"Maybe I'll give it a chance..."

You stopped in front of the nursery and gave Daisuke a look to say goodbye to him before going inside of that room.

You went straight to sit next to Curly.

"I already know"

Those were your only words, and immediately he started to gasp, trying to speak to you but nothing came out of his mouth.

"I told you, for years, that man was a jerk, that he would only bring you trouble. You had to see his atrocities to believe it, didn't you? It had to hurt you for you to realize... You didn't listen to me, or to Anya... Now you'll have that on your conscience for the rest of your life." 

You closed your eyes for a moment to avoid seeing him, but you could hear their sobs.

"I hope you have learned because... if something like this happens again... You can forget about me forever."

You lowered your head until you gently rested it on his chest.

"I forgive you... Because you have forgiven me when I have done horrible things... I forgive you... Because it's not your fault wanting to see the good in everyone but..." 

You raised your gaze to look directly at his face.

"You can't make everyone happy, you'll always have to choose someone... Now you... Who do you choose?"

You were surprised when you felt his arm on your back, as if he were trying to hug you tightly, assuring you that he would always choose you.

[pieofdeath]

god. pacing. this is ROTD spiff so badly its INCREDIBLE.

so like. i DID intend ROTD spiff to be an asshole!! lord barkis is SUCH an asshole in the movie! he's visibly older than victoria by a good bit. he flirts with her in a way that just feels. sooo gross. there's a scene in the movie that I didn't adapt to the fic because I didn't want ANOTHER pov change where Lord Barkis (IIRC) talks to a portrait of Victoria and says something along the lines of how she wont have to suffer this union for very long. BRO. YOU'RE IN THEIR DAMN HOUSE STILL. I intended ROTD spiff to be similar! just rude and an asshole and unrepentant about his crimes!

and then he just. wasn't. and it's mostly my own fault jakdfjs.

My first mistake was that I made Spiff too young. I made him too close to my age, which made me keep thinking about how I would've felt- I'm turning 20 in march, and I made him 20 in Jan of 1877, which makes him 17 in 1874 when he murders Dan.

My second, and primary, mistake is that I thought about him for too long. When writing the final chapter, I went. huh. Spiff is 20 here, a few years younger than Kevin and Seán (who are 21 and 22-almost-23 in Jan 1877 respectively). and he killed a guy at 17. That's gotta fuck a guy up.

and then i couldnt stop thinking about it. ok. abstracted, we have a guy that has killed a guy and planned to kill another and is still literally only 20. age is not an excuse for Actual Premeditated Murder but you can't tell me that it didn't fuck him up, at least a little. and add that on top of the possibility that he killed the only person who genuinely, really cared about him. how long do you think he deliberated on if he was going to go through with his plan. do you think there was a span of time where he truly let himself love dan. do you think answering "yes" or "no" to those questions makes it worse?

i reblogged this post into the rotd tag back in April. i think that's a good summary of ROTD spiff. a guy who was unloved (woa what who said that) and couldn't handle being loved and made the worst mistake of his life. and proceeded to keep making it because then he could pretend he meant it. spiff can be summed up by "hubris and hates it" i think.

there's a lot of similarities between spiff and jim I think. interpret that as you will. there's actually a really rough idea for an alternative universe where everything turns out fine because jim or grim or someone finds out about spiff's plan to kill Seán before he goes through with it. jim and spiff are murder buddies and rtspiff reconcile- the trio shifts into a strange little polycule in that verse.

and while writing the finale I started toying around with the idea of writing his perspective, and then i listened to a few songs that gave me a few ideas for future events and it was all over. He hasn't left my head. I'm thinking about him ALL THE TIME. I'm only barely exaggerating.

hes a squeaky toy to me. im chewing on him. I'm making him cry. I'm making it better but I'm making him cry.

woa hold on i just rambled a LOT I'm so sorry aksjdfksa I need to go listen to his playlist maybe then ill feel better

[gothamite-rambler]

What Odysseus should've added

Calypso: I'm not sorry for loving you!

Odysseus: Cal-

Calypso: Let me speak!

Odysseus blinks in response with a look that expressed how done he was with this.

Much later into the song.

Calypso: I wish you would lie and say-

Odysseus: I love you.

Calypso: Really?

Odysseus: I love you for being someone who housed me when I was injured, but that's it and honestly away from that if I became a widow and you showed up to my doorstep saying I can be with your crazy ass I would spin kick you to the ground! You imprisoned me here for 7 YEARS! Like okay, we didn't have sex, I was vocal as Hades playground of that, but I begged you to let me leave almost everyday. I would sleep all day to escape to a fantasy world away from you. One time I dreamed about being stabbed by Poseidon... and I wanted that over being with you! Like can you not take no for a fucking answer?!

Calypso (pouting): I'm a victim too though, I was stuck here for-

Odysseus: Oh my Zeus, Athena and Helios, I get it and I feel bad for you, but feeling bad for you doesn't excuse what you put me through, that you wouldn't let me leave!

Calypso: To be fair-

Odysseus: Don't give me that couldn't contact the Gods, I know how they work and to be honest... you and Zeus should talk because you'd be great friends! Two people who have no basic understanding of consent, take a hint, taking people verbally shouting I DO NOT WANT TO BE WITH YOU is not CONSENT! This song is good though, but for you (and anyone who has heard this song) you're saying everything that isn't taking accountability with a portrayal of you being a bigger victim than me?! I saw my friends die! I chose to let the rest of my crew die! I'm pretty sure my wife is BALLS deep in some creep trying to be king and I miss ALL of my SON'S life! Being kidnapped by you has been the single worse 7 years of my life and if I die out in the ocean it will be better than you rambling about table mats for our 'future' kingdom and how our 2.5 kids will love the songs you sing!

Calypso (sobbing): Well what am I supposed to do then?

Odysseus (sighing): Talk to the Gods! Now as for me, I got a kingdom to get back to. It was ni- I can't lie. Thanks for the housing and food and I'll even say stopping me from killing myself. That's it. Bye forever.

Song resumes. Odysseus floats away on the boat.

Odysseus: She's a good singer. I won't take that from her.

[bougiebutchbinch]

AOB AU where Logan, much like real wolverines, has multiple life mates, and so far, he has a little harem of Omega Wade who he raises "kits" with, Omega Morph, and Beta Kurt (who dosn't even need bred he just used to help Logan out with his ruts and they never broke up once Logan found his omegas)

And he alternates them, scheduling each of their dick appointments weeks in advance of their heats. Sometimes, Morph can trick their heat by morphing into an alpha, but if their alpha is around, they can't mea while Kurt dosn't have heats and is just kinda here for some extra fun and the cuddle piles that accure during Logan's Ruts, when they all hunker down in the bedroom and kurt is sent to teleport supplies in.

For the most part, it's just Logan taking turns pounding them, letting the others watch and growling at them if they get too close. Their hierarchy is pretty basic on who gets mounted first. It goes Wade, Kev, and then Kurt.

Wade has to go first to get all of Logans feralness out and because if not, Wade gets too jealous and growls at kevin while theyre being bred, which ultimately leads to Logan having to snarl at him to behave and be patient.

Wade is all up for sharing but he wants to be the dominant bitch. This isn't really an issue for Kev since they have a lot of anxiety and insecurity, being in heat makes it way worse.

It's not that Wade has an issue sharing his Alpha its just that he's the 'alpha' omega and by the time hes fucked out and filled, if anything he tries to nuzzle them all. Once in a good while Logan will allow Kurt to mount kev while hes dealing with wades bratty ass, having to constantly reclaim him because of how quickly his marking heals.

By the end of it Logan snuggles them all in the huge 'den' he made out of smelly clothes and the bloody matress. It's a purr fest from there on out, passing a cigar around and chugging water.

It makes Logan to happy to see his omegas (and beta) satisfied and getting along.

The kits in question being foster kittens and puppies from the shelter, Or Bamfs if they're isn't a healthy litter old enough for raising.

Logan will keep them in the den, carrying them around and growling if wade tries to play too rough with them, sometimes dragging wade to his "kits" and forcing him to stay there while he hunts for him COUGH makes dinner COUGH.

Puppins is excited either way, being gentle with them but sometimes getting jealous if her papa doesn't give her equal attention.

Once the litter is old enough to be adopted out, Wade has to give him the "They're big enough to go without us now" talk and watch as their "kits" go to different families.

By then, when all the "kits" get adopted, it throws Logan into another rut. Because good wolverine dads usually always have at least one litter to look after.

In between litters, his other kits being "too old" dosn't stop him from trying to put gabby laura and Puppins in a nest too when they visit.

"Dad stop you're being weird."

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

"You're being drimatic!"

"You need to rest >:("

"Im an adult now I don't need to-"

"Get in the fucking blankets!"

"Litsen to your father pumpkin or else he's just gonna be pouty all night about it." Wade chimes in with a sigh.

She rolls her eyes, sitting in the stupid blanket pile, and Logan is the happiest thing on earth, cuddling all his babies and slicing anyone who comes near them.

Logan and his kits, even if they're already 24>>>>>>

HOLLERS

HOLY SHIT YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO MEEEEEE I just scraped together the energy to crawl outta bed and make food...... now i gotta brace myself on the kitchen counter like I'm having a medical event lol

ThIS GOT ME GOOD!!!! FERAL DAD WOLVIE MY BELOVED... TOP BITCH WADE (at least, he thinks he is)......

Also love the idea that Wade Goes First because he GAGS for Logan getting violent with him... so, when Logan's in full Feral Horny Stabby mode, he can bite Wade and fold him in half in ways that would genuinely HURT anyone else - even Kurt's flexible ass! - and Wade is just drooling and moaning and egging him on... Once Logan's fucked the snarling Alpha-rage out of his system, he can move into fluffy softe mode with his other partners..... and with Wade, ofc! He gets SOOOOO snuggly and warm.... like he's still growly and claiming whenever they wiggle, but he's full of purrs........

GOD I LOVE THIS SILLY LITTLE FAMILY

[phantomwithbreakfast]

FORBIDDEN LOVE

DP Phanfic story.

Oh well.

Here’s a teaser from chapter 07 - Actions and Reactions

(You can read the whole chapter or the whole story on FanFiction.net—not finished yet—currently working on chapter 08)

———————

Teaser loading…

Summary:

Pitch Pearl (coming soon into the story — so that’s a spoiler I guess).

Trigger Warning {Bullying and Harassment — Violence — Emotional Distress — Strong Language}

I rated it as T, but I think maybe it has to be M, I don’t know.

—

Danny’s heart sank, his fingers trembling as he tapped on Tucker’s message, revealing the link. Dread pooled in his stomach, coiling tighter with every second. Another picture. Another post. His chest felt heavy as the image loaded, and there it was—the photo Mikey had snapped of him in class earlier this week.

In the photo he was smiling, cheeks flushed, clearly blushing while looking at his phone. The caption beneath it read:


Mikey’s post:


“Definitely dating Phantom ;)”


The floor seemed to drop out from under Danny as he stared at the picture. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of anger mixing with heavy embarrassment. How could things get worse? How could Mikey do this just for attention?


Danny clenched his phone so hard it nearly slipped out of his grip. Clout. Mikey did this for clout, for likes, for the attention of being the guy who ’exposed’ Danny. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey believed any of it, but that didn’t matter. The damage was done. The post was already gaining traction, with comments popping up beneath it like wildfire.


Danny’s blood boiled. His vision blurred with frustration, his body tensing as his mind raced. He could feel his ghost core stirring inside him, reacting to the emotional storm building in his chest. This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was humiliating. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear. Most of all, he wanted to stop Mikey from making everything worse.


He glanced at the comments below, his hands trembling.


FootballKing01: “Knew it! Fentgay’s been hiding this the whole time. #PhantomDating #Exposed”


CreepyMcCreepFace: “OMG I knew he had a secret life! What a freak!”


PhantomFanboyKW: “No surprise here. Fenton’s a loser either way.”


WestonWS: "No, it can't be! I'm telling you, Fenton is Phantom!"


Danny’s stomach turned, the heat rising in his face. His heart raced as the rage built up inside him. How dare Mikey post this without permission? How dare he mock Danny like that for a few likes? Didn’t he know what this could do to him? Didn’t he know how dangerous this was? The connection between him and Phantom was getting closer to being exposed with each post like this.
He felt the familiar icy cold pulse of his ghost core reacting to his emotions, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn’t let Phantom take over, not here, not like this. But he was tired—tired of being picked on, tired of having his privacy violated.


Danny threw his phone down onto the bed, sitting up in frustration. His fists clenched at his sides as the anger bubbled over. How was he going to fix this? How could he possibly stop this spiral?

———————

Made in ProCreate. Drawings + GIF

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon.

So. If I don’t draw Danny like… angry, he looks so… weird. 😭

I draw scenes to get a vision of the situation. (Duh)

And if I may be honest, this specific story I’m writing hits me very personal. Just trying to get over my PTSD here! (the bullying parts)! So it’s kind of therapy I guess.

[rockinlibrarian]

Must stand up for myself and my husband whose political beliefs suck. There's a lot of assumptions made about what such a marriage looks like, both here in this post/its notes and in real life. Though he sides politically with trad-husbands (is that what the spouses of trad-wives are called?) and evangelicals and such, that's not the guy I married: he's a goofy dad and a doting husband and a gamer and a sap. He's a bona fide gun nut, yes-- that's how he got on that political side in the first place-- but he's safe and smart about it, not one of the dudes waving guns around to look tough and accidentally blowing their nuts off.

The truth is that, despite the fact that who you vote for DOES matter in practical real-life ways, your day-to-day life doesn't delve into those matters much. Yes, we have conversations that are not superficial! We talk about our health, our kids, our extended families, our jobs, our friends, our finances, both off-hand and deep! We also quote dumb movies and and have stupid in-jokes, and kiss and cuddle and other such TMI, and other superficial things that make life bearable and fun.

I have noticed that, when you really talk to people of various political persuasions, you will have your extremists, I'm not saying people like that don't exist, but a SHOCKING amount of people actually care about the same things, worry about the same things: can they take care of their families? Can they keep them and their loved ones healthy and thriving? Will they have enough money to not only get by but to do things they really want to do? The DIFFERENCES are in what they believe the SOLUTIONS to these problems are.

And this is where talking out the differences on governmental levels becomes difficult if not impossible, because there's just a mindset about The Way Things Work and The Way Things ARE, it's like suddenly you're speaking different languages entirely. Words mean different things. (Literally: one good example I saw-- in a Tumblr post once, I think-- is the word "Respect"-- Conservatives see "showing respect" as showing deference, acknowledging that someone is Better than you; while Progressives see "showing respect" as treating everyone as equals. So when a Progressive asks for respect, a Conservative thinks they're trying to be better than others; but if a Conservative asks for respect, a Progressive's like I was TRYING to give you respect but you're trampling everybody else here, geez. Anyway). So eventually you do get like, Okay, never mind, there's no convincing you to see things the way I do on this matter, so let's not talk about it. And most of the time you don't HAVE to talk about it, so great!

Does it SUCK that my own husband is so confused about the differences between socialism and Communism that he'll vote for a guy even he knows is a complete (and even dangerous) idiot just to keep *gasp* LEFTISTS (who might dare enact laws that smack of socialism!) out of office, convinced that because Socialism=Communism=Totalitarianism that we as a nation will stay Free-er under a guy who's bragged about intending to become a dictator? YES, it is utterly stupid! But there is nothing I can say that will break this mindset! Our KIDS take after me, politically, so he knows he's outnumbered anyhow. And who knows, maybe we HAVE made a dent in his beliefs, just like I don't believe Guns are Inherently Bad And Should Be Banned anymore. Enough to get him to stop voting straight ticket Republican, probably not. But every little bit helps.*

In the end, the biggest Issue we have in our marriage is about How Clean the House Is (because we're both--all, counting the kids-- complete slobs, but he's more embarrassed by having a house his mom is embarrassed by than I am, so it bothers him more). I hope the state of our nation never comes to the point where our political differences will interfere with that. I can't guarantee they won't (civil war, for example). But for now, why break what we got?

*(I mean obviously we HAVE discussed politics, that's how I KNOW what he believes and why. It's just not worth rehashing the things we already know we're not going to agree about).

I cannot imagine willingly staying in a relationship so superficial and bad that you can’t discuss your beliefs.

[lfcgirlie866]

The Girl Who Broke A Million Hearts ~ Jude Bellingham x oc

Ok so you guys really surprised me by voting for this fic the most in the poll! I was expecting this to be the least popular option tbh, and I feel like it's really badly written 😭 I apologise in advance if it is!

Summary: 'I know the baby in your belly isn't mine, but if you let me, then I'll love her like she is'

Tropes: Childhood friends, not realising their feelings until it's (maybe) too late, pregnancy, found family

Warnings: fmc mentions death of a parent, there may be smut eventually in the story but idk yet

Prologue

As I sit outside in the mild Spanish night air, looking out across the horizon, I simultaneously wish for the darkness to end and also for the day to never come. The light means I won't be left alone with my thoughts anymore, but it also means that I have to leave Madrid behind and book a flight back to England. It means I have to leave Jude and face up to what a disaster my life has become in the last week.

How could it have all gone so wrong so quickly?

Last week, I was engaged to the man I thought I would be with forever, six months pregnant with his baby, too. I thought I knew where my life was going.

Now I'm just pregnant and alone. I don't have a home to go back to. No family. Nothing. No one.

I'm slowly spiralling, worrying about what the hell I'm supposed to do next and regretting almost every decision I've ever made.

You're a failure, Sapphy. Your mum would be so disappointed in you, I think to myself, trying to hold back a sob. You're a loser. You're too weak to do what she did and raise a baby alone.

Maybe I should just suck it up and go back to my ex, Aiden. Give in and do what he wanted me to; Move halfway across the world with him. At least then I'd have a home again

But you wouldn't be happy, Saph. Not there, and not with him. Not after everything that's happened. After what he said...

'You'd do it for him, though. Wouldn't you?'

And the answer has been plaguing my thoughts ever since.

"Jeeze, Saph. It's almost 4AM. What 'er you doing out here?"

Jude's familiar voice startles me out of my thoughts, almost like I'd summoned him here with them. I turn around and drink him in. Lit only by the lights in the pool beside me, he looks just as beautiful as he always does as he walks over to where I'm sitting, and my stomach twists and turns at the mix of emotions he churns up.

Jude Bellingham. The boy I've known since he was eight, the one I grew up alongside of, the one who I watched become a world-class footballer right before my eyes. He is quite possibly the sweetest human on this planet, and I'll never, ever forget the truly heartfelt words he spoke at my mum's funeral. He means everything to me, but he's always just been a friend. Always. There was never a time when it could have been more. At least, it never crossed my mind at the time anyway.

But since Aiden said those words to me, I can't help looking at Jude differently. I wish I could stop, but now that I've seen the light, I don't think I can ever go back.

When his brother called me and asked if I wanted to fly out and watch Jude's game yesterday, I didn't hesitate. I jumped on that plane and then screamed my heart out watching him play. I forgot all the bad stuff for a while, but being in his home just brought it all back and I started drowning in my thoughts again.

"Jobe said he was worried about you yesterday. Now I am too, Saph." He says quietly, his fingers lightly stroking down my back, making me shiver.

I should tell him what's happened. I know I should, but at the same time, how can I?

He's THE Jude Bellingham. He's on top of the fucking world right now. I can't drag him down from that. I can't burden him with my own issues. These are my problems, I'm the one who has to deal with them. And, if I tell him I left my fiancé then he's going to want to know why. I'd have to tell him that I've become one of those girls, someone I never ever wanted to be; Just one of the millions who've fallen for him.

Some kind of dam shatters inside of me and as hard as I try, I can't hold it all back any longer. The story comes pouring out with a mixture of sobs and tears as he holds me tightly in his arms.

But there's one thing I don't mention: the fact that I might now have feelings for him, and maybe I always have done.

~~~~♡♡♡♡~~~~☆☆☆☆~~~~♡♡♡♡~~~~

A/n: Ahhh I'm so scared to see what you guys think of this 🫣 This is definitely just an introduction and the story will go back and explain how they met/ became friends etc etc.

If you're interested in reading more then please let me know ❤️

[xiao-zhen]

Words Better Left Unread, or Is It? ~ Part IV ☆

Part I

Part II

Part III

“I’m sorry.”

Macaque stood frozen, his heart pounding in disbelief. The words hung in the air, heavy and charged with meaning. Did Wukong truly apologize to him? For a fleeting moment, he questioned whether his six ears had deceived him, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t the case. Sun Wukong—legendary Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven—had spoken those words. Just as he had said them quickly, they lingered in Macaque’s mind, echoing with unforeseen weight.

Macaque wrestled with the moment, recalling everything that had led them here. The battles fought, the grievances exchanged, and the fleeting moments of camaraderie all tumbled through his thoughts like a chaotic storm. Wukong, with his fiery spirit and unrelenting pride, had rarely backed down or offered such vulnerability. And yet here he was, in an unexpected display of humility, reaching across the vast expanse of their tumultuous history.

Macque’s heart fluttered, teetering between skepticism and a flicker of hope. Could this really be a turning point? Could forgiveness pave the way for something new? There, in the tension of that quiet moment, a fragile possibility began to unfold before him, hinting at a future neither of them had dared to imagine.

“What?” That was the only thing Macaque could say. Wukong was scared and nervous, and he said that so suddenly that he didn't even think of it. Wukong himself was still processing that he said he was sorry so quickly. But Wukong repeated the very same words, not one but three times.

“I am sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've never struck you; I'm sorry.” Sun Wukong seemed like he would break into a frantic ramble as Macaque saw how Wukong was shaking. “The crown was even tightening, and I didn't stop. I didn't feel it; rage came over me, and I did something that haunts me to this day. I'm sorry I'm-” Macaque heard enough.

“Stop.”

Wukong froze, finally looking back at Macaque and what he saw; he felt like his heart stopped. Macaque took off his glamor. Wukong felt like he deserved it. Of course, Macaque would do this, but if it were what was needed to earn forgiveness, even if he didn't deserve it, then he would. But what he heard next from Macaque confused him.

“Take off your glamor. I know you have them. Don't hide it from me.”

Wukong hesitated but reluctantly took off his glamours, his red eyes and golden iris showing through the dark dojo. Then Macaque spoke.

“We both went through things. We both made mistakes. Yes, I lost my life, and yes, I hated you for that. I don't know if I can fully forgive you yet, I lost sight that I could never regain. But so did you. I can still see Louzi's furnace and the way it affected you. I can still see what that dumb monk did to you.” Macaque paused before he continued, although he was partially shaking, just as Wukong was. “But that's why I tried to hurt them, the pilgrims. They were hurting you, that dumb monk was hurting you, and you promised you wouldn't leave. So I thought I could find a way to help you out. I misunderstood. But you didn't talk. I lost my life over something so-”

Wukong cut him off. “You didn't just lose your life; I took it! Macaque, I didn't even. I didn't even stop. I was so blinded by rage that I took my own best friend's life. I never forgave myself, but I don't understand what you're saying that I also went through things. Macaque, you lost your life! You went to the Diyu because of me!”

“I'm saying we both made mistakes! And I was bitter. I wanted to get back at you for what you did, but that kid made me realize some things. Yes, I can't fully forgive you yet. . .but I will allow us to try. To give you time to earn my forgiveness.”

Wukong had slight tears in his eyes, just as Macaque did. He was sad that he had not earned Macaque's forgiveness well fully at least, but he was glad to gain some at least and to be allowed to try and earn it.

Wukong took a breather before he decided to take up the guts to ask. “Macaque. You said that I can try and earn your forgiveness. Can you stay on Flower Fruit Mountain like before, you know. . .th-the monkeys miss you and it would help with the forg-forgiveness bit and-”

Macaque stopped him understanding, a little scared but he nodded agreeing. Then Wukong decided to at least try to uplift the moment. “Th-that's good. Unless you'd rather stay in a crappy neighborhood like this.” Macaque gave a light half-hearted chuckle. “Maybe you're right but I get to come here whenever I want.”

Wukogn couldn't help it but some tears fell as Macaque only gave a small smile. Just enough to tell Wukong, we'll get there eventually. As Wukong opened the door Mk was crying emotionally. “It's about time you guys are trying to gain your friendship back. I have to call Mei to tell her you guys are trying to get along.” Macaque and Wukong chuckled. Macaque through his slight tears as Wukong was through small tears down his cheeks.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: Your parents met JJ and they disapprove of you dating a Pogue, especially the Maybank boy

Today was finally the day that JJ was going to meet my parents. I'd told them all about him and how he made me feel. They didn't like that he was a Pogue, but I mean, what Kook parents would be okay with their only daughter dating a Pogue? That's just not how it works on the island sadly. Both my parents were raised as Kooks, and they wouldn't have it any other way for me or my brother. He's as much of a Kook as they came, he took full advantage of the privileged life.

I can't lie and say I don't enjoy being one, but I've also not allowed myself to ignore the disadvantages that Pogues have had on the island. That's how I met JJ. I was helping Big John a few years back bring some diving gear back to his house from my parent's shop and JJ happened to be there with John B. I started hanging out with them a few weeks later when I happened to run into John B at The Wreck. He was there getting some end-of-the-night food from Kie for him, JJ, and Pope. We've been kind of inseparable since. We've of course had our moments, especially when Big John went missing at sea.

JJ and I have been together since then; it was pretty crappy timing, but we also realized that life was just too damn short. We had a conversation the same week he went missing and realized the feelings were mutual. The group knew about two weeks later, JJ's dad knew too but he didn't have much to say. He was just proud of his son for 'landing a Kook' and telling JJ to make sure to take advantage of the 'rich kid living.' I haven't been around there since.

We've been putting off him meeting my parents, but today was the day. JJ was nervous, the most nervous he'd been since the Pogues found out about us. He was so worried they'd use the no-macking rule and break us up, I knew better though.

I'd picked JJ up from the Chateau and was headed to my house. "JJ, you OD over there?" I asked looking over to him as he was picking at his fingernails. He looked up at me, nervously biting his lip. He just shook his head and looked back out the window, the houses slowly getting nicer the longer the drive. "J, it's going to be okay." I place my hand over his, hoping to calm him down as I pull into our driveway.

I put the car in park and look over at JJ, he looked extremely nervous. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. I go over and open the door for him, realizing he hasn't moved. He slowly gets out of the car, placing his hat on his head. I take hold of his hand and lead him to the front door. "We're here!" I yell when I open the door. They walk around the corner and I can immediately see the judgment in their eyes; I know JJ could too. "Mom, Dad, this is JJ," I tell them trying to break the awkward silence. I look over at him and take the hat off his head, placing it on the counter beside us. They quickly walk over and shake JJ's hand. "Nice to meet you JJ," they both said.

"Nice to meet you too, sir, ma'am," he told them, trying to be as polite as he could, not wanting to say the wrong thing. We all stood there for a second before walking into the dining room where there was an array of food placed on the table. Mom and Dad sat on one side whereas JJ and I sat on the other side. We made awkward conversation about the weather and school while we ate. Dad was the first to hit JJ with the questions they really wanted to know. "So, JJ, tell me what are your plans for the next five years?" I look at my dad, wanting to tell him to stop, knowing this was only the first of many questions.

"Well, Sir, I'm hoping to graduate high school and get a job fixing up cars and boats at the Yard. I would like to save up enough money to buy a house and maybe a nice boat, if I'm lucky," he responded honestly. I chuckled at the last part, knowing full well he'd buy a boat before a house any day of the week. My dad just kept looking at him, "The Yard? Why not try to go to college?"

"Well, I figure I don't have the money to pay for college, so I need to take a different path in life," he responded taking a sip of his water, "plus, I'm not sure I would want to go to college." I know my dad isn't going to like that answer. He claims all of his success came from him going to college, but in all reality, it all came from him and Ward Cameron's business schemes. Our family having money has nothing to do with my dad's college degree, but he'd never admit that. "College is important to be successful, I might say, it's most important. I can't imagine the Yard being very successful as they haven't been able to expand to anywhere besides the cut."

"Dad, please stop," I tell him, "JJ is a-" I try and say before I'm interrupted by my dad.

"Now honey, I just want to know how JJ plans to provide for you," he tells me, looking over to JJ, "So, how will you provide for our daughter?"

"Uhm, w-," JJ stumbled, not even being able to get a word in before my mom started in on him. "JJ, who is your dad?"

"Luke Maybank, ma'am," he told her. I could see him getting more and more nervous by the second. I quickly took his hand and held it under the table, knowing my dad would have a fit.

"Luke Maybank? It all makes sense now," my dad chuckled under his breath, "you don't have to explain anything else." I could see the anger and sadness on JJ's face, making me yell at my dad. "What the hell Dad! You don't ev-"

"You watch your damn tone with me," he yelled at me standing up and pointing his finger at me. "We leave you alone and you decide to fall in love with a fucking Pogue, let alone Maybank's boy! I will not allow this," he sat back down before turning to JJ, "JJ, it was not a pleasure to meet you. Now if you would please show yourself the door?" I looked over at JJ and I could see the tears forming in his eyes. He quickly pushed his chair back, causing it to scrape across the wooden floor. He looked down at me, letting go of my hand before pushing the chair back and walking out of the kitchen. I had tears slowly falling down my face now, disgusted with JJ's treatment from my parents. "Now, I don't EVER want you to see him again," my dad sternly told me.

I could tell JJ was still in the house as the door never opened or closed. I wasn't going to let him think I didn't care for him. "Dad, Mom," I say standing from the chair, "you know what, fuck this family. JJ is better than anybody in this family but you're too damn stuck up to realize that or even admit it."

My dad swiftly stood up and raised his hand at me before I told him with venom in my voice, "Do it, you'll never see me again and I know you care too much about our family image to kick me out. I'll go to the police and let them know all about your 'successful' businesses. I'll ruin your fucking life," I say the last part with pure anger. I get closer to him, hoping he'll hit me so I have a reason to go to the police and tell them everything. He sits back down and picks up his drink to take a sip before looking up at me. He doesn't say a word before he throws his cup to the ground, it breaking into a million pieces causing me to flinch, and proceeds to walk out the room. I look down at my mom, rolling my eyes at her knowing she's too scared of my dad to disagree with him.

I storm out of the room to see JJ with his back against the counter, holding his hat in his hands before placing it on his head. I go over to him and grab his hand, pulling him out of the house and over to my car. We get in and I start driving, not sure where to go as everybody was at the Chateau. "Your dad's right," I hear JJ mumble. I look over at him and he won't make eye contact with me. I pull over on the side of the road, looking at him. "JJ, my dad may be a lot of things, but he's not right."

"He is though," he looked up at me with tears forming in his eyes, "you know my dad. I'm just like him, you deserve someone who can give you more."

"JJ, you are nothing like your father," I tell him grabbing his hand in mine, "You are the greatest and best person to ever walk into my life. I can't imagine it without you, not only that, but you are pretty damn attractive too." He lets out a small chuckle at the last part, "J, can you please look at me?" I ask him. He looks over at me as I wipe a tear falling down his cheek, "I love every part of you, especially the ones you hate. You are my whole world and all the stars. When I look at you, I feel like I'm finally home. I feel nothing bad can happen when I'm in your arms. You are my person, my only person, and I hope you know that nothing will change that, not even my asshole parents. I would give them up a million times over before I ever think about saying goodbye to you. I love you."

JJ squeezes my hand tighter, letting a small sob out. "Hey, are you okay? Please talk to me," I tell him placing my hand on the back of his neck. He looks over at me before placing a small kiss on my forehead. "I've uhm, never had anybody tell me how much I matter to them. Dad has always blamed me for Mom leaving and has always told me how much he hated me, I guess I kind of thought there wasn't another way for someone to feel when it came to me. I got so used to how he treated me I thought that's what I deserved, it was all I was good for," he told me. I felt a few tears fall down my face, realizing how much what my parents said hurt him. "I love you too, I'm just sorry if I won't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"JJ," I tell him, waiting for him to look at me, "as long as I have you, that's all I need. I need you to know that."

"You really are whipped," he lets out a small chuckle to break up the emotions in the small car. I playfully smack his arm, "J, be for real right now. You're hearing what I'm telling you right?"

"Yes, I hear you. I love you too. Thanks for showing me what it means to be loved," he tells me, reaching over to place a kiss on my forehead before moving away and placing his lips to mine. "Now, can we go get some pizza 'cause I didn't eat." I look at him and laugh. "Nerves babe, they got to me and I'm starving now." I laugh and look over at him before putting the car in drive, whispering 'I love you' to him and he responds by grabbing my hand and placing small kisses on them. We head to the nearest restaurant and eat, getting extra so we can take it to the Chateau.

Once we got there, we were asked what felt like hundreds of questions on how it went. We gave them the tiniest of summaries, just telling them that my parents are dick and that we left. They didn't need to know anything else, there was enough going on in the group since Sarah started coming around. I'm a big fan of her, but the results are still out for Kie. No matter what though, JJ and I had each other, till the end of the days. As long as I was breathing, he was my love and I was his.

Authors note: this one was longer than I planned. Please tell me if we like the longer fics or if I need to shorten them at all:)

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Popping

Tw graphic animal abuse (not kidding around here, really), gore

"Bursting things is so satisfying! Balloons, bubble wrap, baby animals… It doesn't matter what the thing is, I love the way it pops. My favourite non-living ones are eyeballs. There's such a lovely squish to them, and the way they splatter is just lovely."

"Oh, I know it's a pretty niche thing, but I promise it's wonderful! You hold something in your hands and squeeze, and you've got complete control over it. It screams and writhes, but you're in the driver's wheel now. Its eyes bulge as it begins choking, feeling its chest cave in, bones cracking from the pressure. The world spins red and black, and all it knows is your iron grip. It desperately holds out for all it's worth, praying that you'll release it."

"But in the end it's worth nothing, for it was futile all along. Its guts come flowing out off its throat and it splits open. The best part is when the viscera come spilling out. It's such a pretty red, like cranberry preserve, but it gets all over my fingers! I have to lick my hands clean like a little kid, and pick out all the crunchy bits. Honestly, it tastes delicious. Just like uncooked eyeballs."

"The first time I popped an animal was when I was ten. There was a little bird that had fallen out of its nest. Like any child would, I picked it up and brought it home. Every day, I pampered it and loved it. But it was sick, so sick, and I couldn't save it."

"I'd heard of euthanasia by then, and I knew that it would be a mercy. But when I cradled it in my hands. I didn't think of mercy. I thought of ecstasy, of blood dribbling down my wrists, of the helpless, dead wreck of my feathered friend, a testament to my supremacy over life and death."

"I felt so powerful when I crushed it, when it popped and revealed its succulant innards. I was the Goddess of Death, implacable and eternal. It was like a drug, shaking me to the core. And as I put it in my mouth and began gulping it down, bones and all, I knew what true power felt like. That little bird's life went down my throat in moments, reduced to a toy for my pleasure, a snack for a giant."

"I didn't stop there. I craved that high. I raided bird nests, snatched garden slugs off their leaves, and when Ms Lim down the road was giving out extra kittens, I took in two. Just for fun, I crushed one before the other and fed it its sibling's flesh. I stroked it with bloodied hands and giggled when it lapped at my arm."

"And that was how I ended up with a cat. Cute, isn't she? I call her Fluffypaws. I hand feed her and wash her and comb her every week. Nothing but the best for little Fluffypaws. If I'm lucky, I'm hoping for her to have kittens."

"Won't that be nice? Her belly full of mewling little ones, just like the sister I'd killed so coldly. All ready to grow up and live full lives. So much hope in their futures. Just delightful."

"I can't wait to crush them. To hear my precious darling Fluffypaws bay out as her body succumbs, doing everything in her power to keep my prying fingers away from her ribs, her stomach, the tiny babies that could have sprawled in the sun for many more years."

"It would make for twice, no, a dozen times more the satisfaction. So much life taken, so much hope crushed. But it still would pale in comparison so my dream, my finest fantasy, my deepest desire: to crush a human."

"I know just how I'd do it. My bare fists wouldn't be enough. Hammers would work, but it wouldn't have the same overwhelming power."

"I'd use a hydraulic press. Slowly, enough for them to beg and cry as their death descends upon them. The air would slowly be driven from them, the shards of their ribs caving inwards. Perhaps they'd turn their head to the side. Perhaps I could look them in the eye as they died, smiling and laughing all the while."

"Wouldn't it be beautiful? To destroy another so wholly? To watch their eyes be driven from their sockets in a grand burst of fluid? To let your smiling face and the knowledge that you would be the last thing they ever saw drive the despair truly home?"

"Yes, it would. And after a man, perhaps I'd crush the world, feel its dirt bend beneath my fingers, the molten core leak out, hear a trillion beasts cry out in horror. That would be nice, indeed."

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[raichoose]

Platonic Starters!

Feel free to revise as necessary to fit your muse's speech, change pronouns, etc.

"Aren't you bored? Let's go to the [arcade/farmer's market/movies/mall/etc.] or something."

"I'm bored."

"Are you ready for game night?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Aw man, I forgot it was your birthday! Oh no! - Ha, kidding. Here's your present."

"All I'm saying is, I knew as soon as I looked at you that you and I were going to be friends."

"I think we just became best friends."

"Come on, man, I thought we were friends."

"I need you to join my [baseball team/bowling league/etc]. Don't ask. It's what friends do."

"That's what friends are for."

"That's what friends do."

"Come on, bestie, what's the worst that could happen?"

"You're my friend, and I care about you. So, no, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

"Bro. Bestie. Friend. Buddy. Pal. Broski. Look at me. Come ooon, I know you're not mad - "

"Are you mad at me?"

"I haven't seen you in ages! How are you?"

"If I'm not the best man/maid of honor at your wedding, I'll die."

"I'm glad we became friends."

"Come over and play video games with me."

"Horror movie marathon, buddy. Let's go."

"I'm worried about you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Everything's going to be fine. You got me, right?"

"You're more family to me than my actual family."

"How are you feeling?"

"Do you need help with that?"

"Can I get a ride to the [airport/train station/etc]?"

"You need to live a little. Come on, let's go on an adventure."

"Want to go downtown and see if there's anything going on?"

"That [Thai/Japanese/Italian/Mexican/seafood/comfort food/etc.] place you were talking about finally opened! Let's go!"

"Want to go to the farmer's market with me?"

"If I die of boredom, it's your fault."

"I got an extra ticket to the [KISS/Gorillaz/Elton John/etc.] concert because I won a radio contest. Wanna come with?"

"Let's go to the [baseball/soccor/football/etc.] game."

"Karaoke night, let's go!"

"I'm going to every thrift store I can find today, and you're coming with me."

"So, what have you been up to?"

"What's new?"

"Tell me everything you've been up to!"

"I can't wait to meet in person!"

"Can we stop at the pet store?"

"I heard the house on the end of the street is haunted. You're breaking in with me tonight, okay?"

"If I ever don't say yes to hanging out, assume I'm dead."

"Are you busy? I need someone to talk to."

"Can you come over?"

"Want to come over?"

"I need help. And you're the first person I thought of, because you always help me."

"Oh, you know you love my jokes."

"I'm the mom friend. You always say that. Why are you surprised I'm dragging you to urgent care?"

"Can you believe we've been friends since [insert school grade here]?"

"I wish you were my roommate in college. Would've made my first year a lot better."

"I have a running list of horrible typos you've made."

"Expect me to remind you of this moment for the rest of your life."

"What classes are you taking next year?"

"Let's compare course schedules. I want to see if we have any classes together."

"Dream team! You and me! Let's go!"

"If you prank me on April Fool's Day, I will stop being friends with you! ... Not really. But I'll be mad about it."

"Let's grab [breakfast/brunch/lunch/dinner/etc.] today."

"Nobody hurts you and gets away with it."

"Who did this to you?"

"You're my best friend."

"You're my best friend! If anyone messes with you, I'm going to intervene."

"Oh my gosh! [Name]! How are you?"

"Just like old times, huh, [Name]?"

"I need you to taste test this for me."

"This is the last time I let you take me on a hike."

"I'll be in your neck of the woods this weekend. Are you free?"

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"I don't have any plans this weekend. Do you want to do something?"

"I wanted to check in and see how you were doing."

"The carnival's in town! We have to go!"

"Our friendship means a lot to me."

"I miss you. I don't know anyone in this [new school/new city/etc]."

"If you ever leave [place of employment], I'll die. I can't work here without someone else who gets how much it sucks here."

"We're friends, [Name]. That means we stand by each other."

"We're friends, [Name]. Don't keep secrets from me."

"Thank you for being my friend."

"Thank you for being my friend. I love you, [Name]!"

[gothamite-rambler]

Damian helps Mr. Freeze (Batfamily Chronicles Microfiction Series)

Mr. Freeze (talking to his self): Would me eating spicy food kill me? I never enjoyed them, but once to physically can't eat them it feels different. Thoughts for later.

Robin!Damian (walking over): Hi, Victor!

Mr. Freeze (turning around): Um, hi, you're the new Robin?

Robin!Damian: Yes, how could you tell?

Mr. Freeze: You are shorter and... brown. No offense I promise, it's just the other one is-

Robin!Damian: A skinny white boy who looks like he needs a feeding tube?

Mr. Freeze: Ja, that is insanely accurate. I like you so far, how did you get mixed up with the Bat?

Robin!Damian (lying with ease): My father and him go way back. Old college friends.

Mr. Freeze (falling for that lie): Not feelin' reassured that's why he has another child as a sidekick, but he's not the Joker. Thank goodness for that.

Victor sighed, tapping the glass on the dome that kept his face protected.

Mr. Freeze (cont'd): Let me guess, you're here to defeat me? Kid, run off I'm not in the mood to freeze a child.

Robin!Damian (chuckling): I actually have a proposal for you, Victor. I read your file a few times in the past and your story is truly tragic. I am sorry your wife has that illness and you ended up imprisoned in this suit.

Mr. Freeze (somber): Ah, it's quite all right. I continue to do research for a cure while committing crime. Honestly the crime part of my life is a side gig. I don't want to make you sad about it.

Robin!Damian (reassuring tone): No, no, no you're fine sir. I think that's admirable and if it helps your suit is fantastic and powerful.

Mr. Freeze (small smile on his rarely happy face): I need it to live, but thank you. I sup it up frequently. You are making a good impression so far, would you like to help me then?

Robin!Damian: Yes.

Mr. Freeze (pleased): I've always wanted a young apprentice.

Robin!Damian (raising his hand and shaking his head): Working with Batman is something I love to be honest. I meant I can help with healing your wife. I know this guy, Ra's-

Mr. Freeze (aiming his freeze gun at an unfazed Damian): Oh no, not that crazy dictator and his pit of green goop. I heard the effects it has on that formally dead man. How is he, by the way?

Robin!Damian: Batman pays to stop killing people and he's an awesome hero.

Mr. Freeze (surprised, but gets it): Really? You know what, good for him, as for you and Ra's, I reject that offer I am a man of science... mostly. I don't trust that hocus pocus.

Robin!Damian: Let me finish, sir. I told him not to use the pit and demanded he help get a cure for her disease. Nora is in stage four, Batman said he's okay with Ra's helping you and gra- Ra's gathered some smart men who can research a cure for you.

Mr. Freeze lowered his freeze gun hesitant.

Mr. Freeze: Wirklich? (For real?)

Robin!Damian (nodding): For real. To be fully transparent with you, there's no guarantee a cure will be found quickly, but they have one for the 3rd stage. There was a lot of negotiating with Ra's and I... definitely have to pay that man back for this, but he is willing to aid you with this, no strings attached.

Mr. Freeze (shocked): No... strings... attached?

Damian had to agree to traveling to an island to fight ninjas for his grandfather to agree, a secret he had to keep from his parents, but if it meant helping someone he felt warranted aid, it would have to be done.

Robin!Damian (tight smile): That was the toughest part to get him to agree, don't ever say heroes such as myself don't put their life on the line for you guys.

Damian held out a laminated red on black business card for Victor to take.

Robin!Damian: Here's his business card, give him a call and set up a meeting. I want to help you with this, Victor. I really do, so take the offer... please?

Victor took the card and a half smile appeared on his face.

Victor: Hm, You are a... good kid.

Robin: Eh, less good kid and more being a good hero.

Victor nodded, patting the young boy on the head. The man's hand was cold, but Damian felt warm inside having helped a tragic villain.

Victor: I swear if this works, Nora and I are going to be ze the best villain couple. I have a suit for her and a cool freeze gun and- Oh Scheiße, I shouldn't have said that out loud.

Damian having disconnected his communication device before he entered the lair, waved away those concerns.

Robin!Damian: I factored that in and I support your team up when Nora awakens. Batman won't be around for long, but I will and I think you'd both make great foes.

Victor (happy grin): Kid, now I like you. Honestly, count yourself crossed off my list. I won't ever freeze you.

Robin!Damian: I'm going to brag about that to the others. Bad news for right now, I have to take you in, but the cops won't hurt you or anything.

Victor (resigned to his arrest): Ja, factored that, but I will honor my promise and not freeze you. I'll call this dastardly man after they lock me up. I did miss my old cell, gives me time alone with my thoughts.

Damian nodded in agreement while he and Victor walked out of the warehouse.

Robin!Damian: Oh and I heard that you've been having temperature issues in your cell, I can talk to someone about that as well.

Victor: Danke, it's as if they don't understand I require cold to live! Young hero, your father would proud how well you handled a villain of my caliber.

Robin!Damian (smiling): Making sure to tell my entire family that too.

[overnightheartbeats]

Laurel couldn't pinpoint why she trusted each word he said. He said it himself, they were still (more or less) strangers, yet she found herself nodding along to what he was saying. She believed him. "No, I do." She shook her head in response, trying to stop that train before it went further. "Believe you, I mean. Can't explain why, but I trust what you're telling me. I'm...kind of wrapping my head around it still, and it's a lot." Processing the fact that her friend was saying such horrible things about her, and bullying others on campus? It made her feel so stupid for not seeing it earlier. She lived with this girl, how could she not? A laugh spilled past her lips at his statement, telling it like it is. Yes, Laurel could attest to that. "Yep, I got a taste of that earlier. Probably why I believe you, you have no trouble just laying it all on me."

The feeling of his fingertips against her eyelids was soothing. Was it wrong that her heart was beating with anticipation? Just like it had that day their lips met. Containing her smile was an impossible mission, not that she wanted to, but she could feel the corners of her lips turning upwards. No one else, he confirmed; it mattered to him enough to clarify. "A vacancy, I like that. Might need to submit my application soon," she hummed in thought, as if considering. Knowing damn well her mind was made up. “Oh no, wouldn’t dream of competing with your sister. That’s a whole other league.” Family was completely different, she knew that much, and he had made that clear earlier too.

His question amused her, because the answer came to mind fairly quickly. “Hm, yes and no. I had seen you here, in this building, a few weeks ago. My physics class is also here, but just saw you really quickly. I think I was going up the stairs and you were going down. Figured you were new, you had that look we all did back at orientation. But, party was first time I really saw you. Lucky you were gaining all that attention with your party trick or I might’ve missed you that night.” It was something she had been pondering over, how easily she would’ve missed seeing him, especially running around the party with Jenny. “I got lucky you gave the devil a chance,” she dared to nudge him slightly. “My turn, and hm I’ll ask the same thing.” Talk about lack of creativity. “Did I just barge into your life at the party?”

Jenny was trying to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t help the glare that she threw his way. What the actual fuck. “Wait, you’re not coming back to the room?” All her questions directed at Laurel. Hearing from Eli was bottom of her priority list. “We find times to have fun, don’t worry,” she finally directed at him, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from rolling her eyes. One exaggerated sigh later, Jenny conceded realizing there was no way to beat this one. For now. “Okay, well I guess you’re finding new friends. Honestly, you guys can just use our room to study! Especially if it’s an all night thing. Safety and all.” No, he was determined. She could see it in his eyes. “Ugh, well fine. Lau, just be super safe. Wouldn’t want to see you on the campus news! Kidding, kidding. Take care of her Eli,” struggling to say his name without seething.

“Jenny, come on! I’ll be perfectly fine, I trust him. But thank you, and sorry about lunch. I’ll pay you back for it,” Laurel offered, but Jenny had already turned on her heel and was walking towards the building exit. “Were you serious about all night? Because it looks like I might be locked out of my room for the day.”

"I'm not swaying you to believe me. I know how people can be different for everyone. But I know a snake when I see one. I'm also not trying to scare you. I want you to see it for yourself. I figured that you wouldn't believe me if I told you without any proof." Eli wanted her to come to her own conclusion before it was too late. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at hers searching his but nonetheless gave her a small smile. "I don't like to lie. Usually tell it like it is." There was also the deal where he didn't like liars. But that was neither her nor there. He left it at that. Now it was up to Jenny to hopefully slip up and show her true colors when she let her guard down. He did tell her game on but he wasn't going to do the work for her. Bullies fell on their own.

His thumbs caressed over her eyes and hummed softly at how warm her skin felt. Memories of their shared kiss two weeks ago came to the forefront. It was like he had searched for a love he never had and could finally stop looking. "There's no one else." he confirmed. Somewhere deep inside him he hoped she believed that. "You do have competition though with my baby sister she's very needy."

"Was the party the first time you saw me?" he asked, wanting to start slow. An easy question if she will. Eli wore a semi smug smile on his lips as he started to play with her hand. Seeing Jenny try to tame her inner rage was funny to him. He knew the more he poked her the more it'd build up for her and she was bound to trip up.

"We're going to be busy all night actually." He knew how that came off but he didn't explain. "Homework and all that. Interesting to be paired up for class and having this big project we have to work on. Seems like school is getting in the way of your fun." Eli exaggerated his word knowing how that'd get her fuming and had zero qualms about it. Looking at his watch he sighed. "You know, we better get going if we are to get started on that project. Always a pleasure Jenny."

[justskyla-art]

homestuck fantroll panel mock up :]