#same race similar body type. that's when you know you're fucked.

[featherymainffins]

"I play both sides so I always come out on top" - says local animator who hates both terfs and transmasc people specifically, apparently

[drarrily-we-row-along]

It had been literal years since Harry had seen him, it shouldn’t still feel like this.

Looking at Draco Malfoy while he swanned around the gala, not even noticing Harry’s existence, felt like he’d been hit with a bombarda to the chest. The grief, the rage, the fear, the brokenness, everything came back like it was yesterday. Like he was twenty one and desperately in love, like his entire life was oriented around another person. And the devastation of being left without a word; the empty, expansive void that filled his entire body.

He couldn’t stop watching him. Couldn’t take his eyes off his lithe form, so similar and yet different. He walked taller now, he was self assured in a way he hadn’t been. Open, smiling, like he actually knew he was worthy and it changed how he viewed other people. But he was still himself; clever and funny, still a little bashful when someone praised him.

Harry wondered what else was the same. Wondered if his mouth still tasted the same, if his hands could still make Harry’s body go pliant and his mind go blank. He wondered if he still got giggly after sex. Wondered if earl grey was still his favorite type of tea. If he still hated tequila. Wondered what Harry’d done wrong and how he could have messed up badly enough that Draco left after three years together without a word.

It was inevitable that he found himself following Draco when he went to the men's room, a moth to a flame that would incinerate it and leave its charred smoking remains in a pile of ash. Locking the door behind him, he waited, leaning against the row of sinks until Draco emerged from the stall. There was barely a hitch in his step, barely a flash of recognition in those silver eyes when he looked at Harry.

"Not even a hello?" he asked, suddenly incensed at Draco for ignoring him, at himself for setting himself up for this.

"Hello, Potter," he said evenly. "Enjoying yourself at this fine Ministry Gala?"

"Fuck you," he hissed.

Draco turned and raised an irritatingly perfect eyebrow at him, "Was a hello not what you wanted?"

And Harry saw it, the flicker in his eyes that meant he knew he'd asked the wrong question. "Not what I wanted," he repeated, throat tight and eyes stinging. "Not what I wanted?" He shook his head, "when have you ever cared about what I wanted?"

"Right," Draco said. "Terribly sorry that this Gala helps to fund my research and I had to be here tonight for my job." He said it calmly, devoid of any of the emotions that were racing under Harry's skin. "If you'll excuse me," he said, starting past Harry and moving toward the door, "I'll just get out of your way."

Harry's hands were on him before he even knew what he was doing, shoving him back against the door and pinning him there. "Seven years, Draco. Seven years and not a single word."

"Let me go," he said, voice still unerringly calm.

He shook his head, "No. Not until you-" he broke of, chest heaving as he fought for control, as he fought to get a breath.

"Until I what?" he asked.

"Not until you tell me why," Harry said, voice shaking. "Not until you give me the reason that you threw away three years together without a single. fucking. word."

He just stared at him, still not giving him a word.

"Tell me," he said, begged really, "just. Give me something. Give me some closure. Let me move on."

"Nothing is stopping you from moving on," he replied steadily.

He growled, "Fucking hell, Draco. Just tell me-"

"You're hurting me," the other man said, pressing a palm against Harry's chest.

Harry loosened his grip, "You hurt me," he whispered. "You tore out my entire heart when you fucked off and left. You left this giant, gaping sink hole of a wound in my chest that has never closed, never healed right. It always fucking hurts."

He shook his head, eyes suspiciously bright.

"Tell me," Harry demanded. "Tell me what I did. Tell me how you stopped loving me. Tell me why you left. I would have given you anything, I would have done anything, would hav-"

"I know!" Draco exploded, his voice sharp and furious, and Harry reveled in it, in his loss of composure. "I know that you would have and I didn't want you to."

"What?" he asked.

Draco shoved him off, "Let go of me." He tried to turn and get the door open but Harry grabbed him and spun him around again.

"What do you mean?"

"Let go!" he demanded, pushing roughly at him.

"No," he replied stubbornly. "You owe me this much, at least."

"I owe you nothing," Draco hissed, voice low.

Harry released his grip on the other man, body involuntarily taking a step back as he shrunk in on himself, curling away from him. "Fine," he whispered, wishing he could sink into the floor, wishing he could just disappear, wishing for anything that would take the pain away.

The other man sighed and Harry could hear him straightening his robes before he pulled open the door. "I owe you nothing because the cost of leaving was too high in the first place," he said.

And Harry's head filled with a thousand questions, he looked up but Draco had already left. Rushing out after him, Harry caught him just at the end of the hall. They were in plain sight of everyone at the Gala, if they cared to look their way, but Harry couldn't have cared less. "What?" he asked, maneuvering so that he was in front of the other man. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Everyone can see you," Draco said, voice low so no one would hear, his face impassively blank in a way that Harry detested; it made something go funny in his chest, the desire to break him from that shell, to muss him up, to kiss him until he was breathless and smiling, color high on his cheeks.

"I don't care." He shook his head, "For fuck's sake Draco. I don't care what any of them think. Please," he whispered. "Please just," he let out a rush of air that he'd been holding too tight in his lungs. "Please."

"Not here," he said, glancing around the room very clearly trying to clock who'd noticed them talking.

He nodded eagerly, "tell me where and when."

Draco looked at him, actually looked at him, his eyes moving over Harry's face like a caress. "Mac's, 9:00 pm."

He spun off and left Harry standing there, staring at the wall. He hadn't been to Mac's in seven years, not since Draco'd left.

The rest of the Gala couldn't go quickly enough and Harry found himself leaving before he really needed to but he couldn't help it; he couldn't stand and talk to one more person that he had no interest in talking to. Not to mention the torment of watching Draco swan about, wooing donors; Harry's heart couldn't take it.

Flooing home to change into a green jumper and a pair of jeans before heading to the diner seemed like the only reasonable course of action.

The neon clock behind the counter revealed he was only ten minutes early and he mentally congratulated himself on taking up as much time as he had.

"Well bless my soul," the waitress, Barb if Harry remembered right, said. "I haven't seen you in ages. Look how you've grown."

"And you look just the same, lovely as ever," Harry replied, smiling at her. It was true, she wore the same blue dress and apron, hair pulled back in a bun, still had the same blue eye shadow.

"Flatterer," she accused, but she looked pleased. "Where's your young man?" she asked, leading him back to the corner booth that they'd always preferred and for a moment Harry's heart twisted painfully in his chest.

"Coming, I hope," he said.

She nodded, eyes full of understanding, "Now, don't tell me," she said. "You're a strawberry shake and he's-" she broke off, brow furrowing in concentration.

"A chocolate malt," he said at the same time as another voice behind her.

Both he and Barb looked up to find Draco standing behind her, hands shoved into the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, top button on his black dress shirt unbuttoned. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a muggle magazine, hair just a little disheveled but devastatingly handsome. Harry could barely breathe around how fucking gorgeous he was, how badly he wanted him.

"But if I'm being honest," he said, "I haven't had that much sugar in ages. I should probably-"

"Nonsense," she said, shooing him into the booth across from Harry. "Reunions always require something of the old to mix with the new."

Before either of them could respond to that, she bustled off to the kitchen, leaving the two of them staring awkwardly at one another.

"Draco-" he started just as the other man began with "Look-"

Harry shook his head and gave a little chuckle, running his fingers through his curls and tucking them behind his ear, "Go ahead," he offered.

Squaring his shoulders, Draco began again, "Agreeing to come here with you was a moment of weakness."

"A moment of weakness?" Harry interrupted.

Draco glared at him, "Yes. I'm really not interested in having this conversation. I'm not interested in rehashing everything that happened."

He took a slow breath, "I deserved a good bye," he said eyes stinging.

"Excuse me?" he asked, sounding a bit taken aback.

Barb came over and deposited their shakes and a platter of nachos between them. "I'll just be tidying up," she said. "Over there," she added pointedly. "Don't be shy if you boys need anything."

Harry waited until she was a reasonable distance away from their table before he said, "Listen, I don't need to know why you left. You're right, you don't owe me that. So even though I'd like to know, even though it kills me not to know what happened, what I did wrong," he broke off, shaking his head. "You can have your own reasons and I don't have to know them. But I deserved a good bye."

Those grey eyes, the ones he'd spent countless hours staring into, the ones he'd dreamt of more times than he could count, stared at him like he couldn't comprehend what he was saying.

"I loved you, Draco," he said softly, the truth splitting the wounds in his heart open wide. "I loved you more than anything, I would have done anything, I would have given you anything. If you'd told me you needed to leave, I would have been heartbroken, but I would have let you." He took a deep shuddering breath, "but I deserved a good bye."

"I couldn't," Draco said simply. He started to slide toward the edge of his bench but Harry reached out.

"Damn it, Draco," he said. "Sit down. Please. If you ever loved me-"

"If I ever loved you?" he asked and finally his exterior cracked. "If I ever loved you?" he repeated incredulously. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he repeated, blood pressure rising.

"Yes, you fucking idiot! What do you mean 'if I ever loved you'?" He shook his head, "How can you possibly imagine that my leaving wasn't out of love for you?"

"Because it wasn't!" he exclaimed.

"Yes it was."

He shook his head, "There's no way in hell," he said. "It wasn't for me because you leaving completely destroyed me. You leaving left me in a state of depression that made me wish I was dead. For fucking months. I went to therapy; I still go to therapy, you leaving still comes up. Regularly. There was nothing about that choice that was good for me.”

“How do you imagine that relationship would have ended?”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know. I’ve been too preoccupied with dealing with the fall out of how it actually ended to wonder how it might have ended otherwise.”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in a gesture that Harry had seen enough to know that he was getting a tension headache. He wondered if scratching his fingers through the hair at the back of his head still helped, wondered if rubbing his neck still eased the pain. "That relationship would have ended with you hating me."

"Right," he said. "So glad we avoided that outcome."

"Do you hate me?" he asked, looking at Harry like the answer mattered to him.

He let out a breath, "I wanted to. It would have been easier if I could have."

Draco nodded, "And I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I didn't want to stick around for that." He sighed, "Look, we couldn't have kept living in the shadows. Coming out to muggle restaurants, sharing a bed, living on the edge of the world and hoping that we didn't get caught."

"Draco, I would have come out with you. If you'd wanted to tell people, I would have. Godric. How little can you possibly think of me that-?"

He shook his head, "That's my point. You would have come out, you would have told the world, and we would have lived under the proverbial shit storm that rained down on us. Constant harassment, we'd be the front page of every newspaper. I had to leave the country to get accepted into a training program that would accept me as it was."

"And?" Harry asked, "I'm not new to the media shit-show."

Draco looked at him, eyes sad like he could see something that Harry couldn't. "You're not, that's the point. Harry," he said, and the way that he said his name felt like Harry's heart was being ripped open, "you deserved time to heal. You deserved a shot at a normal life. You deserved to be happy. You deserved so much-"

"That wasn't your choice to make!" Harry exclaimed. "What I deserved, what would make me happy; it wasn't your decision. Not without me at least. Because it didn't make me happy. You made me happy."

"But I wouldn't have," he said. "It was the only way. For both of us. I needed to get my life together. I'm brilliant," he said, and somehow it didn't sound cocky, it was just a statement of fact. "Harry, I'm so good at my job. I'm so good at developing potions and magic that is helping people in ways we couldn't have imagined even five years ago."

"I know," Harry replied. "I've followed your career. I've read your articles."

The little smile that curved Draco's mouth shouldn't have felt like that still, it shouldn't have made him feel like his heart expanded four sizes. "And you needed to find your life outside of me. It felt like you hated everything, like you wanted to burn the entire world, everything outside of our bed. And I was never going to be enough to fill that need."

"You were," he said, throat burning. "Draco, I would have supported you. I would have given you anything-"

"I know. And I couldn't let you." He shook his head, "Leaving you," Draco looked down at his hands where they were clenched on the table. "Circe, Harry, it nearly killed me. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I meant what I said about the cost of leaving being too high. I wanted to give you the life you deserved.”

“All I wanted was you,” he replied.

“I know. And don’t you see why that is a problem? Harry, if all you wanted was me, how could I ever be enough? When all of your dreams, or goals, or aspirations revolve around me,” he shook his head. “I wanted more for you.”

“I didn’t mean to put pressure on you-”

He nodded, “I know. But by the end, neither of us even knew how to be a complete person on our own.”

“Three years of shared life will do that to a person,” he replied blandly.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, and Harry couldn’t count the number of times that he’d wished to hear those words. “I am. But I would do it again.”

The dried, brittle remains of his heart crumbled in his chest. “Right.”

Draco’s hand reached across the table and covered Harry’s, and Harry stopped breathing. “You might be right,” he said. “You probably deserved a good bye. But if I’d given one to you, if I’d even tried, I never would have been able to leave you.”

He opened his mouth to reply but Draco continued.

“I’m not a brave man, I’ve never been well versed in denying myself what I wanted. But I had to give us a chance. I had to give us both the chance to grow into the men we needed to become. I had to give you the chance to be happy.”

“Is that what you think I am?” Harry asked. “Happy?”

Draco blinked, “Well, yes.” His eyebrows furrowed, “you run multiple successful charities that are doing immeasurable good. You’re always in the Prophet with some new witch or wizard gazing adoringly at you-”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” he said bluntly. “Some events require a plus one, so,” he shrugged. “But I still sleep on the left side of the bed. I still unconsciously check to make sure the covers aren’t bunched under me when I roll over because my body got used to not wanting to take them from you.

“Yes, I run my charities,” he continued. “I attend ministry functions. I visit my godchildren and hang out with friends. Yes. I do the duties set before me in my life and I make time for people I love.” He shook his head, “but no one who knows me would say that I am happy.”

Draco stared at him uncertainly.

“It never made sense,” Harry continued. “I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong, how I’d fucked up so badly. I loved you so much, I wanted what was good for you, and I came to terms with that not being me. But for you to tell me it was for me,” he blew out a breath and shook his head. “Whatever you may think, that wasn’t what was good for me.”

No words came out of the other man’s mouth, and Harry decided he’d probably tortured him long enough.

He rapped his knuckles on the table and stood, dropping some money for the bill before murmuring, “good bye, Draco. I hope your life is everything that you wanted.”

Then he all but fled the diner, desperate to be anywhere that wasn’t there. His heart couldn’t take it. Maybe Draco has been right and a conversation only made things worse.

Before he could get to the alley down the street, the one he and Draco had stood in more times than Harry could count to snog until one of them got too horny and apparated them back to Harry’s bed, he heard the sound of footsteps chasing him down the sidewalk. And he would have recognized those footsteps anywhere, could have picked out Draco’s gait out of any line up. “What-” he began, turning toward him.

But he was interrupted by Draco cupping his face and kissing him, his body surging against Harry’s.

Harry didn’t waste this moment, he grabbed onto the other man and pulled him in, kissing him back with all of the heart ache, all of the desire and love that he hadn’t been able to give him when he’d left.

Draco pressed him back against the wall, caging Harry in and making him feel kept and held. “I’m sorry,” Draco managed into the kiss. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, trying to just draw him back into the kiss, he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want anything but this moment; Draco in his arms, bodies pressed together, not a space between them.

But he pulled back and Harry felt bereft. “Forgive me,” he pleaded. “I really believed I was doing the right thing-”

“Draco-”

He shook his head, pressing a trembling finger to Harry’s lips, “there hasn’t been anyone else for me but you either,” he confessed. “Harry,” he broke off, a tear sliding down his cheek, “you are the love of my life. I wanted you to be happy.” He broke, tears spilling down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re brilliant,” Harry echoed back to him.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. “If you meant it, when you said you weren’t happy here,” he started, “come with me. Salazar, I know it sounds crazy.” He shook his head, “but I’ve hated every single moment of not being with you. I love you.” He pressed his forehead to Harry’s, “I love you so much. Come back to France with me. We can start a new life there. I know it sounds crazy-”

“Yes,” he interrupted him. “Godric, yes. Let me come with you. Let me stay with you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco cried, tears still pouring down his face. “You don’t know-”

“I know you,” he replied, holding Draco’s face in his hands to kiss him. “Yes, this is fast and sudden, and I’m sure we’ll have more than one fight about it. But I love you too. I have spent the last seven years wishing you’d walk back into my life, I’m not about to waste that opportunity now.”

“Come back to my hotel with me?”

He shook his head, “come back to our flat?” he whispered. “Come sleep in our bed?”

“You stayed?”

He nodded, “it was ours. I didn’t want to leave behind all I had left of you. And if you ever decided to come back,” he broke off. “Well, I wanted to be there.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, “take me home,” he whispered.

“Home is anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”

[naughtynoodle056]

oh wtf did they mean by that like .. your characters are obviously Black - you could post just the lineart and it'd be obvious??

okay first of all I LAUGHED when I read this ask because I literally feel the exact same way, but allow me to take you and the rest of my followers on this journey that has made me decide I'm a villain now. Buckle up, this post will be lengthy xD.

Person (not artist) confused my OC Shay (the girl right next to Leo) for my OC Xander (the boy on the far left). I got really frustrated because I chose Shay to sit next to Leo in this piece SPECIFICALLY to drive home the contrast in weight and that even though Shay is in a baggyish hoodie, you can still tell she's slim compared to Leo.

I asked if I was just going crazy or if these people mixing them up werre either 1) visually impaired somehow or looked at this for 0.2 seconds because these are obviously not the same person?? an IRL said that Xander and Shay looked too similarly because of their hair and body type and SKIN TONE and I was like. First of all, 2000s emo kids often had similar hair, that's kind of the fucking point here. Second of all, Shay is obviously shorter and skinny and Xander is CLEARLY on the chubbier sie, so what the fuck are you yapping about? and FInally. SKIN COLOR??? SKIN COLOR??????

Here is this same exact piece but with the lighting effects turned off. Just loud and wrong as fuck

So aforementioned artist offers their constructive criticism that was this

and like no offense but the longer I thought about it the more pissed off I got because first of all,

I LITERALLY DO????? and second of all and the reason I'm evil now is that they don't. RECENTLY they actually drew a black person, but it was still a frustratingly ambiguously black person.

Like what does this even mean bro my art style is like ALL SHAPES?? Like I'm really glad you said what you said in this ask because you're so right, you CAN tell my characters are black or otherwise POC just by the lineart. You cannot do that with the artist that gave that criticism. and then they doubled down when people called them out on how wack of a criticism it was and that they were wrong. I won't be naming them by name publicly because like I said before, I will look like the smaller bitter artist that can't take criticism from this BIG POPULAR WELL MEANING artist, but it felt like they were throwing stones from a glass house at a BRICK ONE.

I was also told my art "has a lot of potential" which is the polite way of saying "your art is mid", generally speaking lmaO.

At the end of the day, it felt like they were making huge sweeping judgements of my art and offering criticsm that was like?? unwarranted and felt more like them outting themselves as never giving my art more than just a passing glance because I dont draw 800+lb fatties constantly. Which is fine, you don't have to look at my art. But don't fucking give me criticism that not only doesn't apply to me, but you don't even follow yourself. Its kind of like if an abled bodied artist who NEVER draws anyone with visible disabilities told a visibly disabled artist that DOES draw a myriad of disabled folks in a loving way that they aren't doing enough and then doubling down with "All criticism is fair critism".

I don't think I'm the best artist in the world or in this kink community, but I know one thing for sure. I'm one of the most consistent at drawing black people in a way that's obvious and with lots of love, so don't you EVER fucking imply I don't do enough while your black people just look like color pallete swaps. Don't come for me on that regard if you have never drawn afro textured hair. And no, I WON'T just roll over and accept that "most feedists favor white or pale eastern asain people". I'd rather die a niche artist who actually gives a shit about representation than to just grovel to people that would not respect me because of my race.

[ordinaryschmuck]

I saw a post about how Carmen Santiego has great character designs and diversity through race and body types. I considered it a good post and one that makes a good point...And then below it was a reblog about how a person went "If Carmen Santiego can have a diverse cast of HUMANS, then what the hell is up with Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss?"

First of all...What the hell do either of those two things have in common? They sure are animated shows, I'll give you that. Except that one's a children's animated spy thriller and the other two are adult musical comedy dramas in Hell. Stylistically and tonally, neither of them have anything to do with each other and you just randomly made a point because...you hate Hazbin and Helluva? Cool. Congratulations. Now get a new personality and just fucking watch something else if these two shows made your hatred this obsessed when you randomly attack a show through a post that has NOTHING to do with it. The OP wasn't attacking Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss. Unless they constantly attack it and they made that post to prove a previous point, something that does NOT come across in that original post, there's no reason to go "Hey, why didn't these completely different shows with their own styles take notes of this kids show with ITS unique style?"

And here's the thing: I like Carmen Santiego. I like the way that it looks, and I think its style really is unique compared to other animated series that have come out around the same time. And I do agree that it has a great diverse cast that shows off a lot of body diversity where every single character looks unique in their own way. But here's the thing: I would not go out of my way to attack other shows, to the point where I'd hijack someone else's post to say, "Yeah, this show is WAY better than this other one I hate." And if I had in the past...I'm sorry. I really am sorry. I hate that I acted that way and I will try to do better. Because that's what I do with media criticism or talking about stuff I don't like. I try to act BETTER than I have in the past because that's not how you talk about media. Whether you like it or hate it, it's never a good thing to talk about something you hate when the discussion is about something someone else loves. Sometimes it makes sense, as there are often two products that are similar to each other. Like Marve/DC, Star Wars/Star Trek, and The Owl House/Amphibia. Those are media where there's a lot to compare and contrast, with people being unaware that the main reason why they like the other basically boils down to personal preferences when it comes to consuming media. But with Hazbin/Helluva and Carmen Santiego, there's really NOTHING to compare and you're just going out of your way to talk about something you hate when it's not relevant to the conversation. It's like people who hyped up Puss in Boots: The Last Wish just to shit on Velma. Yeah, The Last Wish is a thousand times better than Velma, but there's nothing similar about both products that make the discussion worth it. You're just using something you love as a weapon towards something you hate.

I get it, people like some things and hate others. It's how we're wired as human beings and I can't stop that. Nor do I think I CAN stop it. But just feel like this is making media discussion worse when all we can think of to do when discussing something we love and bringing in something we hate into the conversation. It's not necessary, and you're feeding the creators that thing you hate by still talking about it. You want to know the best possible way to react to "objectively bad" media? Stop talking about it. Stop watching it. STOP ENGAGING.

If you don't fucking like it, stop consuming this piece of media and go watch something you enjoy instead. Give THAT your time. Show how THAT does everything right and sing its praises. Raise up this one thing that you believe is "objectively good" so it can effectively overshadow this thing you consider "objectively bad." There's a way to discuss media without shitting on something you don't like.

[supercriminalbean]

Lets get a drink Dave.

David Rossi x Male!reader.

Summary: Rossi runs into his ex on a case, what happens when it didn't excatly end well.

Warning: HOMOPHOBIA, crying, fake death, death, family disowning, car crash, murder, unsub stuff, lossing kids. (Please let me know if I have missed anything)

Words. 10.3K

A/N: OMG IM SO EXCITED THAT IVE FINIALLY FINISHED THIS. I start this wayyyy to long ago (Back in april opps) This story I fucking love, so I hope you enjoy, yesss we get Bi Rossi so enjoy it my loves.

As the team flies over to Seattle, they have a few hours to relax before Hotch gathers them, ready to discuss any more information that Garica may have found them over the last few hours. The case they are investigating this time involved four male victims in their 40s, they were viciously murdered. Their faces are almost impossible to identify, making the team think whoever the unsub is harvesting anger for must look similar to their victims. 

“This is the queen of all knowledge, ask away” Garcia smiles brightly at her team when she pops up on the screen.

“Hey Garcia, have you got any more information on the victims or the last place they were seen?” Hotch asks her.

“Yes, I have actually already been working with the detective of the case, he's been helping me narrow down a few things. So all our victims all worked in the same 5 block radius and get this, each victim's body was disposed of between 1 to 2 miles down from the victim's beforehands workplaces, so his comfort zone is not big at all” Garcia lights up as she speaks.

“Which means his next victims must be close by as well, hey Garcia can you have a look and see if—” Reid starts to speak.

“See if there's any boring middle type jobs and workers they fit our description of our victim, me and detective (Y/l) are already on it” Garcia smirks up at them seeing their surprised and impressive looks staring back at her. Rossi's eyebrows narrow hearing that name, his mind being to race. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.

“Anything else bossman?” Garcia grins up at them.

“That's it, thanks Garcia” Hotch smiles, moving his finger to the keyboard, ready to end the call.

“Wait Garcia, did you say (Y/L) as in Detective (Y/n) (Y/l)” Rossi's body has tenses up, but he does his best to relax as he feels his team all look towards him.

“Yeah that's the one,” Garcia nods in confirmation.  

“How do you know him?” Morgan pipes up, noticing the change of mood in Rossi. 

“Oh we worked together years ago” Rossi lies well, turning his head to Hotch. Feeling his heated stare, knowing if anyone could read him it would be him.

“Oh good, that will be nice for you two to work together again then” Emily smiles. Soon the topic moves on but Rossi can’t help but focus on the way his heart is pounding in his chest. The thought of seeing you again after so many years is terrifying, you two didn’t exactly end well, and having to hide his past from a team of profilers wasn’t exactly his plan this morning. 

~~~

Once the Jet has landed, night time has already fallen. The team heads straight to the police station knowing it's too late to visit anything else tonight. 

“Hello, you're the FBI team right?” One of the younger police officers jumps off their seats when they spot the BAU team walk in, ready to greet them.

“Yes, I'm Agent Hotchner” Aaron shakes the eager officer's hand.

“The captain is just on the phone but I can show your guys where you all can set up” They smile, leading the team to a conference room, walking past the captain's office on the way. Dave can’t help but slow down and look through your office window seeing you sat at your desk, facing away from them all. Even though he can’t see you properly, just the small glimpse at you brings back memories of your two relationships, something that he hasn’t allowed himself to think about in almost eight years. Hotch can’t help but glance at Dave, feeling as if something is wrong with him. The team doesn’t get much time to set up when you interrupt them, knocking gently on the door when you walk in.

“Good evening everyone” Smiling lightly as you walk in, seeing everyone scattered around the room. Your eyes landing on a taller more put together agent your guessing must be Agent Hotchner.

“Evening, you must be Detective (Y/l)” Hotch walks over, extending his hand, you shake it with a sharp nod.

“That's me, you must be Agent Aaron Hotchner, I’ve already been talking to your technique analysis, she’s great, a bit different but amazing the things she can find” You chuckle softly at the mention of Garcia.

“Oh yeah, that's Garcia alright, let me introduce you to the rest of my team” Hotch points around the room introducing his team, who all smile in response. “Hey uh, does anyone know where Daves gone?” Hotch's eyes narrow as he scans the room for him.

“He went to find the coffee machine” JJ speaks up, before turning back to the notice board, adding some picture up to it. 

“The coffee machine broke, but I got told there's a coffee shop open 24 hours just down the road” Dave walks in, his words trailing off as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. You don’t mean to tense up when you hear his voice but it's one hell of a shock hearing your ex's voice for the first time in almost eight years. You turn around slowly feeling on edge, as you lock eyes with him.

“David” The only word you're able to speak, letting out a small breath as you read the emotions swirling in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, the fear.

“(Y/n), It's good to see you again” He smiles weakly, doing his best to fix his mask that's starting to slip, knowing his whole team is watching, profiling them.

“That's– yeah, you to” Nodding at him faintly, knowing that this isn't the time or place for the conversation you're itching to have. “I wasn't aware you were back on the team, but 

I shouldn’t be surprised working is what you love to do” Smiling forcefully before turning your attention back to Hotch. 

“When you guys arrived I was on the phone with a detective in the next police jurisdiction, they think they have a body he seems to fit the description of our victims, I was just about to head over there to check it out, I’m assuming some of your agents want to join me?” You resume back to your professional manor, doing your best to ignore how much your blood seems to be pumping into your heart, causing it to ache. 

“Yes, you assume right” Hotch nods. Turning around to find the man, you believe he said his name was Morgan.

“Morgan, Dave you two join Detective (Y/l) in the field” He orders, you manage to keep your face steady, knowing that this could easily happen.

“Got it boss” Morgan nods, making eye contact with the woman on his left, the one you believe is called Prentiss. 

“Alright, lets go” You walk out, refusing to look at Dave when you walk past him. 

~~~

The drive to the crime scene is quiet and awkward, taking almost 20 minutes to get there. Morgan sits in the back, glancing between you and Dave the whole time. Soon the silence starts getting unbearable for him.

“So (Y/L), how long have you been the captain of the department for?” Morgan asks, hoping to break up the silence. Finding the tenses in the car too much between the quiet and longing glances Rossi keeps sending you. 

“Almost five years now but I’ve worked in the police department for the last 30 years, I’ve worked in precincts all over this country” Glancing in the rearview mirror at Morgan giving him a small forced small. 

“Oh damn that's a long time, so what must you have joined when you were in your 20’s?” Morgan smiles, glancing at Rossi briefly.

“I did, as soon as I got back from being drafted into the war, I joined the police force straight away, and I’ve been here ever since”

“Oh wow, so you used your job to travel the country, so where were you when you meant Rossi then?” Morgan decided that beating around the bush is taking too long, wanting to get an answer quicker.

“We’ll we met when I was stationed in New york actually” You avoid looking at anyone when New york is mentioned, already feeling Dave's eyes burning holes into you.

“What case were you working on?” Morgan can’t help but glance at Rossi, never having seen this man so focused on someone who's not an unsub before. 

“Serial child kidnapper, he took nine kids over the course of four weeks and three cities, finally trapped him in New york” Rossi finally speaks. For the first time since they entered the car, his voice is quiet seeming to be on edge, he does his best to keep calm. 

“He didn’t kill any of them, I’m glad we managed to save them in time” You smile sadly at the memory of finding the nine kids in the back of a truck. The fear on all their faces still haunts you to this very day, 25 years later.

~~~

Morgan and you head over to where the body lies in the alleyway, letting Dave deal with the other police officer. You crouch down beside the body pulling the sheet back so you can see the body, your face falling as you see what the Unsub has done to the victim. His face had begun to be cut into before, it looks like he tore into it with his fingers. Scratches all over his face, his eyes seeming to look as if they have been dug into, trying to be pulled out. 

“Well if this isn’t his main target then I would say he is getting close to it, he's beginning to devolve here” Speaking slowly as you study the unsub kill pattern, comparing it in your head to the previous victims.

“Jesus, he did a number on this guy alright” Morgan sighs, looking around the alleyway. “Its really exclude around here isn't it, no one would have seen or heard anything” 

“Yeah, it's the same as the last few crime scenes, and I bet just like the last crime scenes, there are no cameras until two buildings down” Smirking at little as you spot something around the victims mouth. “Hey Morgan look at this” You bring your gloved hand to the victim's mouth that's slightly open finding some blood on his tooth. “Reckon he managed to bite our unsub?”

“Oh yes he did, that is great” Morgan grins at you glancing up as Dave approaches. “Hey Rossi we think we have some of the Unsub DNA” Morgan informs him.

“Good, because there are no cameras and no witness the person that found him was walking a dog who went nuts when they tried to walk past” Dave huffs, looking down at the body.

“Not surprised” Sighing slightly as you look at Dave, your mind no longer on the unsub but rather on the man in front of you. The man you haven't seen in almost eight years, the man you have oh so many questions for.

~~~

As the three of you start walking back to the SUV, letting the crime scene unit clean the area up. You slow down, letting Morgan take the lead once you all reach the SUV, you grab Dave's arm, stopping him from getting in.

“One moment David” Your voice comes out harsh, pushing through the hesitant building inside you. Knowing it's now or exploding in front of his team later on. Morgan glances at you two curiously, before quickly climbing into the SUV, wanting to give you two privacy. You let go of Daves arm, feeling him tense under your touch. He turns around slowly refusing to look you in the eyes.

“You need to cut it out David. If you don’t want your team to know what the hell happened between us, then you need to get your act together” You can’t help but snap at him, the hurt from years ago coming crashing back to you.

“How do you know that they already don’t know?” He questions you with no bite, which just confirms that you're right.

“Because I know you Dave, or at least I thought I did” Crossing your arms over your chest defensively, taking a deep breath. “Look, what happened, happened years ago I’m over it and so are you so why don’t we just get our shit together, for the case, we don’t want your precious team to know what's going on with you” Your words are short, breathing heavily doing your best to keep your anger at bay.

“You're not over it… neither am I” Dave speaks quietly, looking into your eyes, his eyes full of vulnerability. 

“Yeah well, we should be” You can’t look at him anymore, everything rushing back to you.

“We don’t have to be..” Dave's words are soft, knowing everything that has happened between you two hasn’t been easy.

“Let's go Dave” You turn away from him, moving quickly when you see his hand move towards you to stop you. You make your way to the drivers side getting in quickly, the drive back to the precinct is quiet, the tension doubling, Morgan knows to stay silent this time.

~~~

You go straight to your office when the three of you get back to the precinct. Closing your office door with a bit too much force, the bang echoing around the empty building. Dave trails in after Morgan, flinching slightly at the bang of your door, walking in quietly behind Morgan. Dave allows the younger man to take over informing the team of what they have found, as he takes a seat at the end of the table, not meaning to zone so far out as he does. The team couldn’t help but notice that Rossi isn’t throwing out any ideas during the briefing and Hotch can’t help but narrow his eyes at him. Worry coursing through him when he takes in his friends zone out look, noticing the fear and guilt flooding through his eyes. Knowing Dave is too far out of it to be any help nor hide his emotions and definitely wouldn’t like a team of profilers trying to get any information out of him, he decided maybe it's time to end things for the night.

“Alright everyone, go back to the hotel to get some rest. I want everyone back here first thing in the morning” Hotch orders them, watching them all sigh out in relief, getting up grabbing their to-go bags and heading down to the SUV. The only one not to move is Dave, Hotch decides he's going to give him a moment before making him go back to the hotel with him. Hotch makes his way over to your office, knocking softly when he sees that you're sitting at your desk staring at the wall with the same look on your face as Dave.

“Come in” You call out, clearing your throat sitting up straightly, watching as Hotchner walks in.

“Hotch, what can I do you for?” Giving him a forceful smile, your mind feeling a million miles away.

“I just wanted to let you know, I’ve sent my team away for the night, we will be back first thing in the morning, but so far tonight we have no new leads” Hotch updates you, his eyes scanning over you, profiling you.

“Alright, thank you, I’ll be here when your team arrives in the morning, have a goodnight Hotch” You give him a small nod, just doing your best to get him out of your office. Needing to go home so you can figure out how the hell you're going to deal with tomorrow. Hotch stares at you for a few seconds before bidding you goodnight and making his way back to Dave. Who still has’t move the only thing that has changed, is a stray tear sliding down his cheek.

“Oh Dave”

~~~

Aaron makes his way over to him, laying his hand gently on his friend's shoulder, worry spreading through his mind as he watches Dave jump from his touch. Dave's eyes shot up at him in shock, almost like he forgot where he was for a second. Aaron watches as Dave shoves his emotions far down, still not realising a tear had escaped down his face.

“Jesus Aaron, you can’t just sneak up on me like that” Dave huffs out, doing his best to try and pretend he's fine, even when he can feel his heart breaking apart. 

“Sneaking up on you would have to mean I wasn’t trying to speak to you since I walked in the door after sending the team back to the hotel five minutes ago Dave” Aaron sighs softly. “Come on, lets go” Hotch grabs his bag along with a few files, glances back at Dave seeing him doing the same, being oddly quiet for him. They make it out to the car, Hotch getting in the driver's side. They drive in silence for a while, Hotch glancing at Dave worriedly throughout the drive.

“So who is he?” Aaron speaks gently, not wanting to startle Dave, knowing how easily startled he can be when he's like this.

“Aaron..” Dave sighs out his name, staring out the window. The rain falling reminds him of the cosy nights cuddled up in front of the fireplace.

“You don’t have to talk about it, but if you do” Aaron locks eyes with Dave, giving him the opportunity to tell him anything. Aaron's eyes soon go back on the road, silence filling the vehicle once more. Aaron thinks he’s not going to mention anything else as they make their way to the hotel.

“(Y/n) was my first love” Dave's words hang in the air for a few seconds. The sadness, heartbreak, chilling in the words spoken, the fear plain on his face. 

“What happened?” Aaron pulls up, looking at him with soft eyes, knowing that this story doesn’t have a happily ever after ending.

“We..” Dave opens his mouth, but he doesn’t know where to even begin. Where did it even start to go wrong with the two of you? It’s always felt like your relationship has been cursed since the beginning.

~~~

That night you go home, long after everyone else already has. You skip dinner for the night pouring yourself a scotch instead as you get ready for bed. Sitting down on the side of the bed, placing your glass down which directs your eyes to the small wooden box that sits on the edge of your bedside table. Slowly you reach for it, taking a deep breath as your fingers trace the word engraved on the front just above the lock. Emotions swirl inside you as you trace ‘Angel’. Memories from the past 40 years are starting to come to the surface. Opening the box with care, picking up the pile of photos that have a layer of dust on them, having not been open in such a long time. You remove the top pile, moving them to the bottom, knowing the most recent photos of the years you spent with him would just kill you. So instead you look through the photos that hold the memories of you and Dave’s first date. A small study date down at the lake that was only 20 minutes from your home. You were 15 the day that everything changed, the day you both knew you two would have to hide how you felt for ever. You didn’t even know there were tears brewing until you saw them dropping on the photos as you flick through them. Stopping on the one from your last date with him, it was your one year anniversary, you were now 16 and he was preparing to leave school. That day, people found out about you two and you were lucky to get away from school alive that day. That was when you knew you two could never be anything more than just friends.

~~~

A few more tears drop down as you get past the photos of you at war. Remembering how you got to spend a couple special nights with Dave before it all went down hill. You two somehow managed to get put on the same base for a week, but then he was injured and was honourably discharged. That was the last time you saw him for almost two years, two years of hell. As soon as you were out, you went to find him and luckily he was easy to find with a few calls. Just when you did, everything went downhill again. He was about to get married and his fiancee was pregnant. He had moved on, but you just couldn’t do it as easily as he could. You still stayed in touch with him, still stayed his best friend. But the pain became too much so you left and found your own life in due time. 

~~~

The photos go back into the wooded box after somehow one of the more recent photos appears in the pile. The photo of you and Dave from 15 years ago, when you two finally managed to go on a date in public comes to light. The box closes with a snap, the emotions ready to boil out as you skull the rest of the scotch before getting up for another drink. Knowing tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day. Sighing softly as you finally get into bed that night, one final look at the box.

“I'm so sorry my angel I do wish things were different” A tear slides down as you allow some memories to consume you for the night.

~~~

The next morning, you're already in your office when Hotch and Rossi arrive. Sparing a quick look at them as they walk past, you're thankful you were on the phone when he walked past. Not realising how much just one glance at him would affect you this morning. One look at him and the feelings you shoved so far down eight years ago start to stir. God damn, why does he have to look so good in the morning.

After a few moments the rest of his team start to arrive so you make your way from your office to the room you gave them. Your eyes are unable to move from Rossi that is until he glances at you then suddenly it's like you can’t even acknowledge him as you walk in.

“Morning Detective” Hotch gives you a small smile, spotting from the corner of his eyes as Rossi makes his way to the other side of the room away from you.

“Morning, I just got a phone call from the morgue saying they're ready for us” You inform him. Ignoring the way Rossi moves from you, or the way the younger team members give each other some interesting looks.

“Great, why don’t you take Morgan and Reid” Hotch glances at the two younger men, who nod in response quickly grabbing some of their gear.

“Thank you” Your eyes glance over at Dave, who is staring at the board in front of him. But by the way he plays with his fingers and the relieved smile creeping on to his face, you know he's not really looking at the board.

~~~

The trip to the morgue is informative, the victim had died the same way as the others, but he did have more fight in him and did indeed manage to get the unsub DNA. It's now being out through all the systems and so far has no hits. Now you three are making your way back to the precinct, the sun has been shining all morning, so you pull your jacket off before getting in the SUV. Morgan sat in the passenger seat beside you while Reid hopped in the back, and continued to talk about the significance of the drugs the unsub used. Morgan's eyes couldn;t help but be dragged to your arms that's where now exposed, mainly he’s focusing on the tattoo you have. Angel wings with flames on the edges, in the middle of the two wings was the word ‘Amore, 2005’ and above the word and wings sat a pair of devil ears. 

“Sorry but (Y/L) that is an interesting tattoo you got there” Morgan's voice puts a stop to the kids rambling and pulls you from your daydream. 

“Oh my tattoo?” Glancing down to where he was staring, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Everyone tells me they never think I’m a tattoo person, let alone someone to get one like that, but I love it, and it has a small story that goes along with it to” A smile breaks out as you inform him, remembering the day you got it.

“Oh a story huh?” Morgan smiles back, seeing the love swirling in your eyes.

“One that is best told over a good glass of scotch” You chuckle softly. “Maybe if you guys have time before you leave after the case I’ll take your team out for some drinks and tell you.”

“Now I like that idea” Morgan grins at you, before glancing at Reid who has a shocked expression on his face as he stares at the tattoo.

~~~

The day drags on slowly, your back in the conference room with Hotch, JJ and Dave. You can’t seem to concentrate as the dead ends keep piling up, sighing softly as you get up, looking at them all. 

“I think we could all do with some decent coffee, there's a coffee shop down the road, I will be back shortly” You smirk as you see JJ grin up at you.

“That would be great, thank you” 

“Hey, I could do with a break as well” Rossi gets up, which earns a small hidden smirk from Hotch.

“Fine, that's helpfully you can carry them back then” Holding back a groan as you walk out, Dave following you closely staring at you wondering just how he can fix this.

The walk to the coffee shop doesn’t take long, it's silent but it's not uncomfortable. You can’t help but glance at his hand that swings almost too close to yours, remembering the first time you finally got to hold his hand in public. You walk inside without a word, heading up to the counter, opening your mouth ready to order when Dave actually speaks up.

“Good afternoon, can I get one large cappuccino with two extra shots and a shot of vanilla, two large lattes and then just a large cappuccino with an extra shot as well please” He smiles sweetly at the cashier who nods and begins to get them started. Your smile widens accidently as you watch him, he still remembers your coffee order after all this time. Damn it, has his smile always made his face glow like that? 

~~~

After he pays you both go and take a seat, after being informed it might take a while.

“So, I guess you're not avoiding me now?” You smile softly at him, giving him that knowing look. One he never knew he missed so much until he finally sees it again, gosh it's enough to make him melt. Dave has to swallow thickly as he stares at you, he’s blaming the sun for beaming down on you the way it is. It brings out all your beauty, your golden hazel eyes shine brightly, reminding him of when the sun used to shine down on you when you two used to play at the lake, back in the life of two teenages. The wrinkles on your face above the eyes hide the scars you got from one practical afternoon at the lake. 

“I couldn’t avoid you the whole time I’m here” Dave smirks a little, shaking his head trying to clear his mind.

“You know what happened between us, when we last broke up, you know I forgive you for that right?” Taking a deep breath as you bring up the elephant in the room. Dave's shoulders tense up, the pain flickering through his eyes once more.

“I wish I never did that.. We could’ve worked through things If I didn’t do that” His words soften, glancing down at the table finding it more interesting suddenly.

“I don’t think we could have… we were both in too much pain.. Moving forward was too hard. You took an out and I don't blame you” Taking a deep breath, refusing to over think what you're about to do next. Knowing it's something you should have done years ago. You reach out to him, wrapping your hand around his, giving it a small squeeze. 

“You should.. I cheated on you after we had just..” His words get stuck in your throat as he looks up at you. His eyes glossing over with tears of his past, knowing he can never undo what he did.

“I know..I wish I could hate you for running off and getting married but I tried for the last ten years to make you the villain in my mind but I can’t do that, our past won’t allow me to do that” You smile weak, gulping as you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Only now realising that you both have leaned in closely while talking, your hands tightening together.

“I could never truly move on from you (Y/n) I don’t think I ever can” Daves voice is now barely audible, but his words make you breath hitches.

“Neither can I” You agree, and without thinking you lean forward steadily and he slowly follows your lead.

“Dave?” The barista shouts out, making you both pull away quickly. Dave jumps up quickly to go collect the coffee, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

~~~

The afternoon moves by slowly and awkwardly. The tension between you and Dave seemed to grow after getting back to the precinct handing off the coffees. The whole team notices the longing looks between you and Dave, the way one of you would move and the others eyes would follow. The afternoon turns to night, everyone is talking when Morgan's phone starts ringing.

“It's Garcia” He informs everyone before answering you and putting it on speaker. “Hey Baby Girl, you’re on speaker, what's ya got?”

“I found him, I got him” Garcia gets straight to the point, forcing everyone to jump to their feet. 

“Who is it Garcia?” Hotch questions.

“Fred Smith, I use the DNA to find him and he fits the profile to a T, like if there is an unsub shape mould type thing he is it” She bumbles on. “He got out of jail a month before the murders began, just like you said”

“Address babygirl?” Morgan asks, before grabbing his gun.

“He has a warehouse downtown and an apartment, already sent” She grins to herself.

“Thank you baby” Morgan hangs up, turning to his boss. 

“Alright, (Y/L) why don’t you take JJ, Reid and Rossi to his apartment, the rest of us will go to the warehouse” Hotch looks at you, receiving a quick nood before you all race out to the vehicles. 

~~~

All four of you enter his apartment, carefully, splitting up, making sure it's clear. Regathering in the living room, eyes widening as you look around. The drawings all over his desk, pictures of the dead bodies pinned to the wall with knives. 

“Well this will be an easy conviction at least” You're the first to speak, staring at the pictures and drawings with interest. 

“Yes it will be” Dave walks up to stand behind you, his breath lingering on your neck. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as he moves to come to stand beside you. Standing so close, the warmth is radiating off his body, making the nerves swish rapidly in your stomach. Take a breath before you start looking through the room, feeling his eyes burning a hole into you. Dave couldn’t tear his eyes off you right now, not when everything he wants to say is on the top of his tongue, if the two other agents weren’t with them he doesn’t think he could stop himself right now. 

“Hey Dave, come look at this” You call out to him, your eyes solely focused on a ripped up paper that has fallen onto the floor.

“What is it?” Dave asks before getting down onto his knees beside you, his eyes narrowing on the paper as you pick it up. 

“A list of company names, a victim from each company, that smart kid of yours was right” Smirking as you read through the list of names.

“He still has six names left on his list” Dave sighs, taking the paper off you, reading through it as you climb to your own feet. You have to press your lips tightly together to stop a small chuckle from escaping as you look down at Dave on his knees, a smirk forming on your lips instead, a light playing in your eyes.

“What’s that look for?” Dave questions you, his eyes frowning as he looks up at you. That cute confused look on his face is something you have missed.

“Just forgot how good you look when you're down on your knees like that” Chuckling softly as your eyes slide down his body, you know that's a dangour game to play, but a part of you just doesn’t care, a part of you even craves the danger. 

“That doesn’t seem like a work place appropriate” Dave fights back the smile, the blood rushing to his face. The hint of redness with his shy smile, makes you laugh softly as you help him off the floor.

“Sorry, you know I love to tease you” Licking your lips softly realising your hands are still together. “Especially when you're down on your knees like that” Winking at him pulling your hand away as you watch his eyes widen, the small blush on his face turning on to full speed. 

“Okay guys, Hotch just called, they—” JJ announces walking into the room with Reid, coming to an immediate stop, her eyes flickering between the two older men. The tension seemed to have lessened, but they can’t help but notice the red face of Rossi and the smirking cocky look resting on your face.

“What does Aaron have?” Dave asks them, pulling himself together quickly.

“They caught him, he was down the road from the warehouse about to grab another victim” JJ informs them, glancing at Rossi concerned.

“Good, easy case to wrap up then” Smiling at Dave weakley, knowing that once he gets on the jet then that's it. 

“Yeah, good” Dave avoids your eyes as he makes his way out.

~~~

You help the team finish off their paperwork so they can make an easy exit from this town. Hotch, Emily, and Dave are still in with Fred trying to get him to confess to all the murders. 

“Hey, any luck?” Morgan looks up as the three agents make their way in.

“Confessed to all the murders” Emily grins, places down the case files.

“Oh good, by the way the jet won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon, apparently there's a few issues and it has a couple tests to run first” JJ sighs informing them all.

“Wait, does that mean sleep in?” Emily smiles looking up hopeful, everyone's gaze turns to the boss.

“Well I mean we don’t have to be out of the hotel until 10, so sure sleep in” Hotch smile lightly at them before turning back to board, taking everything down as they cheer quietly. You notice Dave walking over to the window, frowning a little at how distracted he looks, you head over to him.

“Hey you” Smiling faintly as you stand beside him. 

“Hey” He stares out the window, his mind a thousand miles away.

“What's going on in there?” Sighing as you stare at him, the look on his face is one you have seen too many times and it's almost always a sign of concern.

“It's not important” He dismisses you quickly, sighing as he glances at you, a look in his eyes you just can’t identify.

“It is, if you don’t want to tell me right now, then why don’t we get drinks tonight” Placing a hand softly on his arm, a smile forcing its way on to his face.

“Yo drinks tonight, we’re in” Morgan intreputes you, him and Prentiss standing oddly close by. Holding back a few curse words at the younger man, you smile fakely.

“Perfect, I’ll take you all out tonight, first rounds on me” Laughing silently as the younger agents all cheer in delight.

~~~

One round turns to many, stories are told, laughter fills the table. You and Dave somehow sit across each other, eyes catching each other occasionally making smiles grow. You two haven’t had a calm conversation yet alone a moment like this in over 10 years now, it's nice. 

“It's why I’m extremely careful climbing rocks now” Laughing as you tell them a brief story of how you got the scar above your eye, leaving out a certain person in that story.

“Okay so (Y/L), you said you would tell me about your tattoos?” Morgan smiles interestedly at you.

“Oh right my tattoo” Smiling sadly as you pick up your glass of scotch, sipping on it thinking back.

“You don’t have to” Dave looks at you, his eyes soft knowing what your tattoo represents.

“It's okay Dave, it's no longer a sad reason” Smiling reassuringly at him, knowing that the memories behind the tattoo affects you both. 

“Wait, Rossi, you already know about his tattoo, I thought you two only worked together once?” Morgan smirks lightly, glances at Prentiss.

“Yeah Rossi, you two seem to know alot about each other for only one case together, what did you say twenty years ago?” Emily joins Morgan in the teasing, wanting to know the history between the two men.

“It is strange that you two have quite similar tattoos as well” Reid pipes up.

“Wait tattoos, Rossi I didn’t know you have any tattoos?” JJ looks over at Rossi a little confused.

“We uh, we kept in touch after the case” You clear your throat, feeling caught off with everyone's questioning. Rossi's eyes stare into yours but it almost seems like he’s getting lost inside his own mind, wondering what he should be telling his team.

“My tattoos tell a story about those I love and lost” Rossi finally drags his eyes away from yours looking back at the rest of his team.

“Can we see your tattoos, Rossi?” Emily looks at him hopeful.

“Okay fine, only because I know that look on your face Prentiss, you won’t leave it alone otherwise” Rolling his eyes at them, the team erupted in laughter at the slightly offended look on Emily's face. Rossi gets up, pulling his jacket off before unbuttoning the first top buttons of his shirt, turning around as he pulls the collar of his shirt down, revealing his right shoulder blade. Four names are spread across the area, each with a date. The oldest one, dates back to 1976, the name Amore printed above it. Next was James, 1978, above his name was a rose connecting his name to Carolyn, 2012. Then comes the name you weren’t ready for, Angel 2005.

“Carylon passed away?” Your voice is weak as you think back to their wedding, one of the hardest days of your life. 

“Yes, last year” Dave smiles sadly at you, buttoning up his shirt again. 

“Can we ask who Amore is?” Reid asks quietly, the whole table going quiet.

“Amore, was the love of my life” Dave takes a deep breath as he looks into your eyes. 

“What happened to her?” JJ asks gently, watching the emotions swirl across Dave's face.

“He supposedly died in the war” Dave's voice shakes, the tears swelling in his eyes. “But then, almost two years later he knocks on my door” 

“He?” Morgan smiles softly at Dave, everyone going quiet, giving him his time.

~~~

“We met in high school, back then boys weren’t allowed to date each other, you all know how it was” Rossi starts speaking, now refusing to look at you as he tells your story. “We never meant to fall in love, he was a year below me but needed help with some class work, my teacher asked me to help him out so I did, an we formed this friendship” As Dave speaks, your mind travels back to those days, the memorise of your first study lesson in the library. How the first two study lessons were quiet and awkward, not unable to understand the way he would teach you. The day after the third lesson you went to your favourite place in town before going home, the lake. It was always so peaceful and quiet, barely anyone knew about the part you would go to, giving you the perfect hiding space you always craved. Apart from that afternoon, when you're sitting on the rocks just above the lake, doing some sketching of the trees opposite you. You hear a noise, footsteps and a strange sound you can’t identify straight away. The longer you concentrate on it, the louder it gets and when suddenly there's a flashlight you're finally able to figure it out, a camera. 

“Well, well well what do we have?” His soft laughter catches you off guard, turning to the side where the bright light came from.

Cut it out David, seriously?” Huffing annoyed at him, blinking rapidly trying to get rid of that flashlight outta your eyes. 

“Oh just relax, (Y/n)” David smiles cheekily at you as he climbs the rocks, sitting down beside you. “What are you drawing?” He asks, looking down.

“Just trees” Shrugging as you show him. “It's just a rough draft for now”

“It's beautiful, do you draw often?” Dave questions him, looking up at his face, enjoying the peaceful concentration across his face. It's a nice change from the frustrated look he normally has on his face when stuck in the library. 

“Most days” Nodding at Dave, a smile pulling at his lips.

“So, do you come here for the quiet, so you can draw in peace?”

“I do” Glancing over at him, your eyes mainly focusing on his smile, which brings a small one of your own out. 

“Oh, then I will leave you to it” Dave goes to get up, feeling bad for intruding on your space.

“No, don't go” Your hand grabbing his hand quickly, stopping him. “I originally came here to do some homework today, but I still couldn't understand it. Can you help me?” Your voice is soft and desperate as you ask him, there's no part of him that could deny you. Especially with your hand holding his like that.

~~~

“People found out about us” Dave's voice pulls you back to the present, sipping on your drink as you figure out where he's up to. “We hid our relationship for almost a year, but when rumours started to spread we had to end it so we could keep ourselves safe, it wasn’t good but we did our best” Dave takes a sip on his drink, ignoring the looks his team's all share. “I only had six months left at the school, when I left we started dating again thinking it would be safe, that summer was one of the best” His eyes flick to you, sharing a small smile at the memories flashing through both of your minds.

“Anyway, I ended up going to war near the beginning of the year, and after about eight months or so. Well when I got to base camp, he was somehow there” Dave can not stop the smile that spreads across his face as he thinks about the day. “He had gotten himself kicked out of school earlier that year due to misbehaviour and his parents made him join the military” 

“Huh, sounds like you had yourself a rebel boy there Rossi” Morgan jokes lightly, earning a rough laugh from the older man. 

“Oh you can say that again Morgan” Rossi smirks, knowing just how much trouble you two used to cause.

“Well during our time deployed, I managed to go home a few months before him, we had discussed moving to D.C and living our life there, so I moved there with the idea he would join me when he got out” Daves voice becomes shaky along with his hand, having to set his glass down before he drops it. Your heart breaks as you watch him, never getting to see him open up about your death.

“I was there for three months, and the day before he was supposed to arrive I got a phone call from his brother, letting me know there had been an accident and he didn’t make it” You have to tear your eyes off him, feeling some eyes staring at you along with Rossi. 

“I couldn’t believe it, but I knew I had to move on, so I continued my life in D.C, after awhile i meet Caroyln and we started dating, she becoming pregnant and we were going to get married, two days before we got married there was a knock on my door, and it was him” Rossi takes a deep breath.

“Sorry I need a drink” You quickly excuse yourself, heading to the bar needing to get away from those memories. The moment that lady opened the door of your lover's house, the moment you knew it was over.

~~~

You stand by the bar for a few minutes nursing your drink, trying to pull yourself back together before you walk back over there. A soft hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, pulling you away from the thoughts floating through your mind. You don’t need to look up to see who it is, leaning back into his touch.

“Sorry I just needed a minute” Sighing softly, his hand rubs your back slowly. 

“That's okay, It’s not easy to talk about, but I thought It was time I finally told my family about you” You could hear his smile pushing through his words. Family. Him telling his family about you always seemed out of the question, something you both would have to learn to live without. But, when he said those words, something seems to be fluttering in your chest, you're just not sure if it's feelings resurfacing or just plain old anxiety. 

“You have a great family now Dave” You sip on your drink, trying to figure out how you're feeling.

“That I do, one who would like to hear more of our story, if you're up to it?” Dave wraps his arm fully around your waist.

“Only the good parts” Smiling more as you lean into his touch, forgetting how safe he always feels. 

“Only the good parts” He chuckles softly in agreement as he leads you back towards the table. 

~~~

The seating around the table has slightly changed, JJ has gotten up and has now moved to sit beside Emily. Allowing you both to sit beside each other, even if you two haven’t said it yet, everyone around you has figured you two out.

“So um, can we get to know more of the story please?” JJ asks softly after a few moments of silence. 

“Of course” You answer them with a smile, shocking them slightly with that small confirmation. 

“So during me and Carylorn's marriage, we still stayed in contact, well we tried to but life got it the way” Daves voice trails off as he thinks back to that time he called you for the first time in 6 months because he needed you after James died. You drove 18 hours that day to get to him, only stopping for gas. You didn’t care about anything else except being there for him, the pain he was going through wasn’t fair. 

“We kept in contact when we could, we both moved on. I started dating again and Dave just kept getting divorced” Laughing softly, nudging him gently earning your favourite David Rossi eye roll as the rest of the group just laughs at you two, sharing looks with each other.

“Anyway we did our best to stay in contact, but soon a couple years went by and then we ran into each other during a case in New york” Rossi continues the story, Morgan's head shoots up at the mention of New York again.

“What happened in New York” Morgan asks, doing his best to hold the desperate for the answer, back from his voice.

“We ended up having to work together and things I tried to hide from him for a while seem to come to light” Taking a quick breath as those memories start to rise, Dave notices your body tensing, seeing the fire and past swirling around in your eyes, he slides his hand off the table, taking your hand in his.

“I won’t go into details, but Dave figured out I was in a toxic, borderline abusive relationship—”

“It was not borderline, but continue” Dave interrupted you with a soft smile causing you to chuckle softly, looking at him. Which is a mistake because as soon as you looked into his eyes again, all the memories were playing in them, the love you had for him comes racing back, and it's almost like you're stuck while you stare into his beautiful brown honey like eyes. It takes all your strength to pull away from his eyes looking back over his team, squeezing Dave's hand as you do.

“Anyway, Dave helped get me out of that relationship and even supported me when I asked for a transfer to San Francisco, I got a position for captain” Smiling softly as the table all looked mildly impressed. 

“He moved to San Francisco and after a while I got moved to Paris so we once again lost touch” Dave sips his drink as he thinks back, jumping over a few years. He hated the fact he went to Paris, instead of staying in the states where he could be closer to you, he loved you and he was ready to try again but you needed time to heal and life started moving forward and neither of you could stay in the past anymore. 

“I got married to Hayden, but It didn’t work out and I was being reassigned back to the states anyway, I went back to the BAU for a few years before I decided to retire” Dave continues, ignoring the looks his team has been sharing with each other throughout the story.

~~~

“So what happened after you retired, did you two decide to try again?” It was Emily that spoke up this time, everyone knows there is a big part of the story you two are leaving out.

“Not at first, I went travelling and focused on my books for the first couple years, but we stayed in contacted, caught up when we could” Dave smiles as he thinks back to those more happy days, when it was more like catching up with a best friend, who your completely and utterly in love with. 

“One day we caught up and things changed that night, we decided to try again, it was the mid 90’s it was a bit more acceptable then, still not completely safe but we did our best” Leaning back into your chair as you sip on your drink.

“It was the best few years of my life” Dave admits, looking over at you, his eyes once more full of guilt and pain due to the way things ended. 

“Mine too.. But we should have known it wouldn’t have lasted” Taking a sharp breath as you pull your hand out of his, looking away from him, missing the broken look that broke across his face, as you do your best to hide yours. 

“Are we allowed to know why you two broke up?” Morgan asks gently, glancing between them, ignoring the look Hotch is sending him. 

“We broke up due to a few issues, our kid was taken away from us and it caused a lot of problems between us” Your words float out of you like air, the pain and fear floating into your voice. At the sound of the pain in your words all Dave wants to do is lay his hand on your thigh, letting you know that he’s right here, but he knows he can’t do that anymore. 

“Your child?” JJ asks, unable to hide the pain flashing through her eyes, she couldn’t imagine losing Henry.

“Yes, our child, Angel” Dave speaks up, his voice aching as he mentions his name, a part of him he never thought his team would ever know about. Your other hand traces over your tattoo, tracing the angel wings slowly.

“He was my little sister, but she hit hard times and couldn’t raise him anymore, so she asked us to take him in, he was only two when we did, he was a little bundle of joy” Your voice moves from painful to light and happier as you speak. 

“We raised him for 4 years, until people around us decided that two older men had no right raising a kid together” Dave's voice is full of hatred and anger as he lets himself float back to those moments. Without thinking you lay your hand on his lap, rubbing softly to get him to calm down. 

“They took him from us, my job ended up in danger and I ended up disowning my family because of it” Your voice is full of venom, but Dave places his hand on top of yours, almost instantly you lean into him for comfort before stopping yourself.

“Oh my god, that's terrible I'm so sorry” JJ apologies, her heart breaking at the story, everyone goes silent, not at all surprised they couldn’t stay together through all of that.

“My sister managed to get custody of Angel again almost two years after it all, so I could still visit him, Dave unfountuly was no longer around as he had moved away” You skip over the main reason why he left, not needing to revisit that pain. “2005 was the year Angel and my sister unfortunately passed away in a car crash” Your voice breaks as you give them that detail, Dave inhaling sharply as his heart breaks at the memory of receiving that phone call. 

“Oh man, I'm sorry that's rough” Morgan looks at you with empathy, everyone glancing between you and Dave, the chemistry still obvious to everyone but you two.

“It's okay, life happens and at least those two are now together forever” Letting out a soft breath as you sip on your drink.

“Do you have any photos of Angel?” Hotch asks, whos been silent for the night, having already knew most of this information from Rossi's confession. 

“I sure do” Smiling more as you grab your wallet, pulling out the small pile of photos you have in there. Passing it to Aaron who's sitting on your other side, his face lights up as he looks through them, passing them around the table.

While everyone is distracted looking at the photos, Dave leans in closer to you, worried about how you're handling everything.

“Are you okay?” He keeps his voice low as he watches you, his heart skipping a beat when your eyes meet him, your eyes filled with nothing but love as you look down at him.

“I'm good, are you?” You don’t want him to move away, you don’t want him to pull his hand away, missing his physical touch. 

“I’m great, I’m glad they know about you” His eyes burn into yours, already feeling guilty about having to leave tomorrow.

“So am I” Smiling softly, your eyes glancing down at his lips, before your mind can wander you’re called back to the present.

“Dave is that you?” Emily smiles widely as she shows the photo she's holding. Morgan and Reid looking over the girl's shoulder, all looking up at Dave with smiles filled with love.

The photo they're looking at, is one of your favourites, that’s your reasoning as to why you still have a photo of your ex in your wallet. The photo is Dave pushing Angel on the swings, Angel's smile is huge but almost nothing compared to the excitement and love present in Dave's eyes. You love that photo for so many reasons, your boys look adobe and the memory from the day makes you smile even when you're drowning in sadness.

“You still have that photo?” Dave smiles at you, having to hold back the urge to kiss you.

“It was a special day, no way could I lose that photo” Smiling back at him, hating yourself for not giving into your urges and lean into his touches. “I have more at home, all kept safe”

“Good” 

The team all sits in silence, giving each other looks as they watch the looks you two are giving each other, yet you two don’t seem to know how much you both need each other. 

~~~

You excuse yourself to go outside, needing some fresh air. You stand outside leaning against the wall as you finish your smoke, your mind staying on Dave.

“Hey I didn’t realise you smoke” Morgan's voice pulls you from your thoughts, glancing over at him as you take it out. 

“Old habit I guess” Looking up at him with a small smile.

“Fair enough” Morgan smiles, before taking a breath. “You and Rossi really do have one hell of a past, you two kept that quiet”

“We try not to let it affect our job” Forcing a small smile, not knowing exactly where he is taking this.

“I respect that, but here's something I disagree with” Morgan starts.

Your eyes narrow as you watch him, preparing yourself for some homophobic speech you’ve heard oh so many times.

“Which is what?”

“The fact that it's in the past, I see the way you look at him, you still love him and he clearly loves you” Morgan smiles softly, watching as the defensiveness rolls off you, replacing itself with a far away look.

“I may love him but that doesn’t mean it's enough” You’ve always loved Dave, but the past has shown you that keeping you two together isn’t a walk in the park, it's not even a run through a forest at points. 

“But it could be now, come on what could happen if you two try again huh?” Morgan sees the heartbreak in your eyes. “This world is now different and so are you and Dave, you could fear trying and failing again, or you could embrace this chance that's right in front of you two and just go for it” Morgan watches you as he speaks, walking off to leave you thinking about his words.

~~~

When you reenter the building, your eyes first land on Dave, who's at the bar talking with Aaron. You look back over at the table where everyone is standing up, grabbing their phones and wallets. Your heart starts to drop as you realise it's over, no more time to talk to Dave as everyone starts to leave. You head over to the table, saying your goodbys quickly to the team as they make their way out. Aaron and Dave walk over as they see the team leave, Aaron bids you goodbye as he follows his team out, Dave looks at you with a soft smile on his face.

“One more drink?” He asks, pushing through his fear of you saying no.

“Only if it's your shout Dave” Chuckling softly, biting your lip as his eyes light up.

“Oh of course” He chuckles before walking to the bar. You take a seat at the table, your eyes staying fixated on him. Your eyes stay on him as your mind go over Morgans words, ‘Embrace this chance that's right in front of you’ 

Dave makes his way back over to you, sitting beside you, sliding your drink over.

“Thanks” Smiling up at him, knowing it's now or never.

“Anytime” He smirks, looking you over. “I hope it was okay, telling my team our story”

“It was fine Dave” Your name feels like home as it slides off your lips. “But I do have a problem” Sighing slightly, as you look away from him, missing the way his face falls.

“What is it?” Dave ask, his voice full of care and love as he leans over, taking your hand in his. 

“I don’t like the way our story ends” Glancing at your hands, before looking into his. Your eyes are full of hope as you keep talking. “I think it should continue, maybe one more time?” Gulping thickly as you watch him, waiting for a response. His smile grows, love and hope filling his face, 

“I would love that” 

“Good” Grinning more, squeezing his hand, as your other one cups his face, pulling him into a kiss. He is quick to respond, leaning into your touch and kissing back lovingly. 

~~~

The next day, Morgan and Emily are the last to enter the Jet, running late due to shopping. Morgan's eyes scan over the jet, not seeing Rossi as they all settle down.

“Um, where's Rossi? Morgan asks Hotch, everyone eyes glance over at Hotch all of them having hopeful looks in their eyes.

“Oh he’s staying for a few extra days” Hotch smirks back at them all. Everyone's heart fills with happiness as they can figure out what had happened last night after they left.

[m-jelly]

Hey jelly I am so sry to know that u suffer from the same hourglass body problem . I am anon who shared the problem to u.

Yk when I was in middle school I hit puberty earlier than my classmates and by the end of middle school i had a matured body but I was obese at that time so guys didn't bother me but in high school upon losing my weight a lot of creeps started bugging me and I didn't take much notice and thought they were checking out other girls because in middle school I wasn't considered attractive so guys never bothered me and I had this thought that no guy would ever look at me

The popular girls at school would bully me and other girls would judge me by saying that I thought I was superior to them , shameless and what not behind my back. I couldn't even make true platonic guy friends becoz all they were interested in was to date me.

Even most people on social media ignore struggles faced by our body type and portray girls with hourglass body as if we have everything and don't face struggles

I'm so sorry you went through all that. My secondary school life was very similar. My chest came in very early and I hated the attention I got. I was accused of padding, stuffing my bra and lying. I was asked so many times what my bra size was because I have a big chest and it was no one's damn business.

I have been bullied every year of my life at schools. It happens too much. A lot of bullying I get from girls is me being called a whore, a temptress etc. I was accused of having affairs left right and centre. The funny thing was I barely dated at school because I was too focused on passing my damn exams. I never slept with anyone in school. I was the opposite of what people painted me as.

I've had a lot of guys use me and have a laugh about dating me. I have had guys try and cheat on their partners with me and I have rejected all. I hate cheaters. I hate everything about them and it's why I don't write for it in my ships.

There is still a lot of hate for plus size, curvy or hourglass shapes and it's a struggle. We're told we're fat, so we go to the gym and try to lose weight but our body shape does not change. I have done all sorts to change my body when I was younger and nothing worked. If I wanted my hourglass body gone I would have to have surgery. A lot don't understand.

It saddens me that a lot of body types get hate. Not matter what size you are, there's always someone saying you're not good enough. There's always something wrong.

You know what I say? Fuck them. Be who you are. I accept my hourglass body now and I try hard to call myself beautiful. I try to make others feel beautiful because human bodies come in all shapes and sizes. The beautiful thing about the human race is how deverse we are! We should be celebrating a lot more and being kinder instead of judging others.

Treat others how you want to be treated

Oh, and also? Complement someone! If you see a person wearing something cool, tell them! I had someone say my bag was awesome the other day and it made my day! I told a lady last week I loved her unus anus shirt and she went from sad to a bright smile instantly.

Spread some kindness 💕

[opalesense]

nsfw headcanons

zhongli & gn!reader [NSFW]

1.1k words • ~9 min. read

summary: some headcanons of what zhongli is like in bed!

warnings: liyue arc spoilers, breeding

notes: you might be able to tell i got some zhongli favoritism by how long this is lol

zhongli, in his sophisticated and traditional nature, will be extremely respectful of you and will only have sex at times and places where you want to. he believes your body is a temple and he does not want to consistently impurify it with selfish human desires. very rarely will he force himself onto you (that's not to say that he wouldn't though, more on that later!)

he is always turned on when you're in his vicinity. one look at you will send his thoughts racing. he definitely won't show it outwardly all the time, but he is always ready when you are.

no sharing. at all, ever. you are his for as long as time exists. anyone who dares to even shoot a suggestive glance at you will meet zhongli's wrath, or at the very least, his cold, intimidating stare. he gets very upset if you even attempt to mention the possibility of polygamy in bed. he is very possessive.

there are two sides to zhongli in bed. he is either gently making love with you, relishing in the slow paced pleasure and heat of the moment, or he is purely animalistic, mindlessly destroying you and following instinct alone, paying no mind to what you want.

his gentler side in bed is simply a projection of his true love for you. he will endlessly praise you with words, loving the way your face lights up with each compliment and getting turned on when he knows he is pleasuring you. he will constantly be muttering that he loves you, cherishes you, and will never let you go. reminding you that he loves you while he's indulging in such a dirty act with you is VERY important to him.

slow, careful, and calculated moves. he will observe each twitch, moan, and facial expression you make to determine his next moves. if you're visibly uncomfortable, he will immediately try something else. if you're in extreme pleasure, he will make sure to remember what he is doing so he can do it again and again.

zhongli's incredible memory encapsulates your likes and dislikes in and out of the bedroom. he uses this to his advantage to overload you with pleasure every time. the more times you make love with him, the more he can use his knowledge to make each time an enjoyable one.

if you can remember the things he likes too, he will be overjoyed! he doesn't expect you to focus on pleasuring him though. in fact, each time you have sex is an opportunity for him to serve you.

he LOVES releasing himself inside of you. more on that later, but know that he doesn't like seeing his fluids splayed across your body or seeing you covered in tears or saliva. again, your body is a temple. to him, it must stay as orderly and pure as possible.

zhongli is not into hurting you or leaving any drastic marks on you for a similar reason. he doesn't mind leaving a hickie here and there, but that's probably the most he would do without feeling ashamed in himself, even if you asked for more.

he doesn't lean strongly towards dom or sub... that is, until you see his animalistic side. by then, he is undoubtedly a dom.

he can usually control his temper very easily. but if he's having a terrible day or something awakens the god of war, the unforgiving dragon inside of him, he will lose any ties to his normal human persona. he will immediately revert to his past self, the part of him that is engulfed in the thought of having domination over everything he lays a finger on – this includes you.

before being fully consumed by this darkness, he will make sure to get your consent for the things he will do to you. he wants to use that last spark of the kind, caring, and gentle zhongli that you're used to in order to ask for your permission. it is his utmost priority as soon as he can feel the darkness swallowing him.

but if he doesn't get to you in time or does not get your permission at all, you will need to restrict him somehow. otherwise, he will do everything in his power to get his hands on you no matter what. the urge is uncontrollable. it's unfortunate that you have to put up with this, but thankfully this rarely happens anyway that you don't mind dealing with a tied up, cranky, and extremely horny zhongli until the phase passes naturally.

admittedly, the first time you saw this side, you were terrified!

even though he will retain his human form, he will pounce on you with nothing on his mind but to conquer and make you fully his. that being said, he goes crazy at the thought of pinninf you down and breeding you, filling you up multiple times to guarantee that you will get pregnant, even if you can’t have children. it must be done multiple times. he is not convinced that one round is enough.

but during this phase, one round is pretty short! since he's focusing on reaching his goal to breed you quickly, he will make sure to get the job done as efficiently as possible.

he will use you mindlessly and treat you like a doll, a simple object made to pleasure him and him alone. he will not hear your cries, screams, or begging to stop if he is engulfed in rage. if you are not filled to the brim with his seed, he does not care about what you want or how you feel in the moment. even if you manage to get fucked unconscious somehow, he will continue fulfilling his pleasure as if nothing happened.

he might use another hole if filling one up wasn't enough for him.

if any cum spills out, he will make sure you pick it back up and swallow it to make sure all of him is inside you. a single drop wasted will make him angrier.

once the phase wears off and he's practically emptied everything he's got into you, he will apologize profusely and go overboard with aftercare. he probably won't have sex with you for quite some time, drowning in guilt even if you enjoyed it.

he will smother you in expensive gifts, luxuries, food, and acts of kindness for the next week or so. he cannot carry the guilt of doing such dirty things to you without compensation.

if you're the type to get easily bored or tired of the same gentleness he treats you with and want to ask him to purposely go through this phase of rage, he will politely decline. there is no convincing him that he should treat you so poorly, even if you tell him it brings you pleasure. he truly hates that side of him and hates taking it out on you even more. it doesn't remind him of very good memories.

but if you really nag enough all day, maybe enough to get him angry or annoyed with you? you might get what you wish for without him even realizing...

[msookyspooky]

I wanted to ask is YN completely free to imagine?or does she have certain details that changed for example hair colour,hair length I wonder if she had certain details (other than her body lol) that they noticed about her first I know this is kind of a dumb question 👁👁

Nope! YN is only She/Her and that she is the same age as Billy and Stu but height, body type, race, ethnicity, hair length, eye color blah blah blah; is all up to you! Completely free to imagine! As far as details changing, that's also up to the reader if she grew her hair out or pulled a Sidney and cut it short. All we know is she's growing up compared to in HS.

Honestly what drew Billy & Stu in was:

1. She was new and I HC Woodsboro as a smallish town where everyone grew up together with the exceptions of a few stragglers here and there. I grew up in a similar town and newbies at School became the gossip within a day or two as someone new. Put it this way; I grew up with mostly everyone here and so did Billy and Stu and the rest of their friend group in Woodsboro. If Billy really is arrogant and thinks he's above the boring, normal ppl of Woodsboro; the new meat coming in will perk his interest even if he acts indifferent. Stu just knows = New girl = New prospects 😑

2. She became friends with Tatum and Sidney first. She sat beside Stu in class but didn't really talk as friends until Tatum and Stu started dating and Randy was friends with Stu and had a crush on Sidney so that introduced you to Ray and Billy was dating Sidney so you got to know each other whether you liked it or not. You talked to Billy before Stu and got along with him really well despite not putting up with his shit. THAT really suckered Billy even if he acted like he didn't like you at first bc you were one of the only ppl to not only try to understand him BUT to also call him out on his bs. He isn't used to that and it had him crushing on you. Stu? You were attractive and different and that's all it took tbh 😅 And in his deranged mind you're just SOOO different than every girl in Woodsboro (She's not like other girls 😔💅🏻 /j)

3. You got into horror movies while both Tatum and Sidney either don't like them or could care less. I chose this detail bc most ppl simping for Billy and Stu are in the Slasher fandom so it was a no brainer. Billy and Stu are absolutely enthralled with you if you want to watch horror movies with them. (I'm SURE at first they were like "Oh yeah? Girls aren't into horror. What horror movies do you like? The Littlest Vampire? 🙄" and are surprised when you prove to them they're misogynistic and full of shit.)

So yeah not saying they didn't find us attractive but it was more us being 'different' and exciting that lured them in. (And the fact they couldn't have us once James got in the picture made their fucked up crush on us ten times worse those toxic mfers ☠️)

[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't part 8: nonhumans

this is easily the geekiest part of the series. and it's a Very geeky series. because sapkowski's worldbuilding is waaay more extensive than i have the time, ability, or desire to convey, i'm sticking with races both sentient and important

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

dopplers

dopplers, also known as vexlings, shifters, mimics, doubles, imitators, or pavrats, are a nonhuman race that can take on the appearance of nearly anyone they encounter

before mass migrations of humans, dopplers primarily inhabited the forests and plateaus around the city of novigrad, where they would transform into wolves and pack animals to hunt

their abilities are pretty impressive, dopplers can not only mimic appearance but also voice, personality, skills, behaviours, and knowledge. dopplers can even turn parts of their bodies into pieces of clothing or other objects

however, there are some limitations

dopplers can't transform into someone/thing with dramatically more mass than they have, are burned by silver, and can't drop anything they created (if they did it would kind of turn into a fleshy goop)

we've already met a doppler in twn, this sexy sexy man

BUT

it is important to note that this doppler is a huge deviation from sapkowski's lore. dopplers are pretty much always exceptionally kind and gentle. a lot of times they use their abilities to appear threatening (big teeth, sharp claws etc) because they really don't want to hurt anyone.

when dopplers aren't mimicking another form, they aren't exactly pretty. they're bald, short, have beady yellow eyes, and kinda look like they're made from soft clay

here's the hexer doppler

the most notable doppler is dudu biberveldt, who i mentioned as the halfling dainty biberveldt's fake cousin. dudu's actual name is tellico lunngrevink letorte, but dainty decided to help dudu live in novigrad by adopting him as his fake cousin.

dragons

dragons are fucking awesome. you know it, i know it, and zerrikanians know it. witcher dragons are especially awesome

they are the only being, other than cats, that can naturally harness and absorb the force of chaos

there are multiple subtypes, but most dragons fall into one of four: black dragons, green dragons, red dragons, and white dragons.

black dragons are the largest, and primarily live in swamps and wetlands where they bathe in mud. they have extremely hard scales and don't breathe fire, but an acid that causes burns similar to those from mustard gas.

green dragons (right there) are the most prominent yet smallest species of dragon, mainly living in forested areas and breathe highly flammable chlorine gas.

red dragons mainly live in hills and mountain caves and can breathe fire hot enough to melt metal

white dragons are one of the rarest species and live in the far north, and can breathe frost

however, if you watched the witcher netflix as i assume you did, you may remember golden dragons. these dragons are so rare and exceptional that they are not usually included with other species. they breathe steam and fire and can shapeshift into any living being

all dragons communicate through telepathy, although golden dragons can speak when they are in the form of a species that can speak

humans are pretty divided on the topic of dragons, with zerrikanians worshiping them and nordlings hating them.

because they are incredibly intelligent and emotional, witchers (generally) refuse to hunt them

borkh three jackdaws, also known as villentrenmerth, is the only golden dragon we know. there he is right there.

ASSASSINS OF KINGS SPOILERS NEXT TWO BULLET POINTS

the other dragon from twn was a green dragon named myrgtabrakke, borkh's mate. their daughter is named saesenthessis, also known as saskia the dragonslayer (an alias she took to explain her extensive knowledge of dragons) and the virgin of aedirn

because saskia is part golden dragon, she can shapeshift, although is much more limited than her father. she can basically only be a human looking woman with blonde hair or a huge dragon.

cut because this part is getting REALLY long

godlings

ah godlings. i love them so much. they're adorable and precious. they usually look somewhat like a human child, but with blue skin and large amber or green eyes. they don't wear much clothes, their focus is in accessories like jewelry, flowers, or tattoos

that's johnny, a holding in wild hunt.

godlings are incredibly rare, and are easily confused with young goblins. they primarily live in swamps near drowners, but aren't afraid of them.

they're quite mischievous but kind hearted, many have happy go lucky personalities and love just having fun. i adore godlings. i've said it once and i'll say it again.

higher vampires

definitely the most important group on this list, higher vampires are incredibly powerful and intelligent. they can shapeshift within certain limits, generally either looking like a human or a large terrifying bat. they also have some telepathic abilities - they can basically make you fall asleep and forget stuff

scary wooo

higher vampires do not need to drink blood to survive. some don't drink blood at all. when they do, it's like a human drinking alcohol. on full moons, groups of higher vampires go out partying and get white girl wasted

although all higher vampires have the same basic abilities, each individual has one skill they are exceptional in.

most find humans harmless but annoying, like mosquitos. they don't really like interacting with humans, which works out pretty well as higher vampires can blend in very well, even a witcher's medallion can't detect one

higher vampires also have three distinct cultures, the tdet in the far east, the ammurun across the great sea, and the gharasham in the northern realms

they are really really hard (or impossible, depending on canon) to kill. based on the books, you basically need to disintegrate them. based on the games, only higher vampires can kill other higher vampires, but humans can get close

we only meet one in the books, emiel regis rohellec terzieff-godefroy. he goes by regis for short. regis was an "alcoholic" in his youth, and has since abstained from blood or any other substance. he's incredibly old, by the end of twn season 1 he'd be 425 years old. as for regis' "special ability", he's just kind. he's an incredibly gentle and loving person. that's it. i love him.

merpeople

probably one you're already familiar with! merpeople are intelligent humanoids that inhabit the great sea. mermaids are notably gorgeous, having green hair and tails, and their scales are prized alchemy ingredients

sapkowski's mermaids can breathe above water, but the sun burns their skin so they don't stay at the surface for very long.

merpeople are incredibly powerful, they can summon krakens and the sea-dragon like race of vodyanoy respect their authority

they use their own language that's quite similar to hen llinge, but more lyrical sounding.

nymphs

nymphs are a humanoid race primarily based around nature. they have 5 subspecies, dryads (including hamadryads), leimoniad, naiad, nereid, and oread.

dryads, called eerie wives by humans and aen woedbeanna by elves, are the most prevalent, primarily living in the brokilon forest. some have human skin with olive undertones, but others are green. they usually have dark brown or green hair which is usually worn in dreadlocks (breaking my promise of not being overtly and annoyingly political in this series yet again - the dryads, especially in the netflix adaptation, are classic magical n*gress stereotypes. but more on that later.)

this is a lore-accurate one that i LOVE

dryads have incredibly strong connections with nature and magic, although it is really rare for a dryad to be a source. dryads are able to draw energy from trees, but rarely do because they don't want to hurt the trees. support dryads and take the bus.

all dryads are women. all of them. they make babies by basically luring men into the forest and doing the adult hokey pokey. also why dryads aren't really a fan of witchers, who don't make the baby butter (i am so sorry)

however, dryads can also turn a girl of another race into one of their own through the use of magic. the water of brokilon has some mutating quality that makes young girls forget their human past and physically turn into dryads, although it is less effective as the girls are older. the dryads tried to do this to ciri, but given that she's a source, nothing happened. generally, this process is done to girls who wander into brokilon, but some dryads will abduct peasants from outside the forest if they need more dryads.

here's twn dryads... yikes

this is where i think the whole racism thing becomes a bit too obvious. "uncivilized" women who live in the forest and have dreadlocks and abduct young girls from "civilized" areas?? in twn they leaned even further into this, having one of the two black women they cast be a dryad and replacing the usual bows and arrows with spears, a less sophisticated weapon. again, this series is about the lore, not the political implications of it, but it is important to keep in mind

dryads are excellent at archery, shooting anyone who comes within 80 metres of the forest. through their connection with nature, they have highly advanced medicine and use glowing fungi as a source of light.

hamadryads are a specific type of dryad that is incredibly connected with her tree. because of this connection they have exceptionally strong magical and healing capabilities, but will also go insane and die if their tree dies.

like merpeople, dryads use a more melodic dialect of hen llinge

leimoniads are a type of nymph that lived exclusively in meadows, but are practically extinct due to wars with humans

naiads, also called rusalki, are nymphs that live in lakes and rivers, although a few live with the dryads in brokilon. naiads are very similar to dryads, although they tend to have very light skin with very dark hair, webbed hands, and can dry out on land

naiads rarely speak common, live in small groups, and have highly developed telepathic abilities

nereids are nymphs that inhabit the great sea, often living closely with merpeople. they usually have blueish skin with either blue or white hair and have some telepathic abilities, though not to the extent of naiads.

oreads are nymphs of the mountains, which, like leimoniads, are nearly extinct due to human conquests.

succubi/incubi

succubi (female) and incubi (male) are creatures which look like incredibly attractive humans but with horns and goat legs. they seduce humans, first in dreams and then physically, using their prey's energy to sustain themselves, often to the point of the human's exhaustion or death

our man eskel has a soft spot for them...

sylvans

sylvans, another race we already met, are exceptionally rare. like, practically extinct. they live mainly in the woodlands of the northern realms and have goat-like faces with yellow eyes, horns, cloven hooves, and tails

my man torque is quite possibly one of the last sylvans on the continent

they are distantly related to elves, and the two races tend to coexist quite well

generally quite mischievous and merry, highly enjoying pranks and parties. they can use simple spells and are mainly herbivores

sylvans live around 100 years and are highly sought after by dryads for their... ahem... reproductive capabilities

unicorns

yep, we got unicorns! i fucking love unicorns and still kinda think they're real. camels are real and those lumpy fuckers are way weirder than a horse with a spike on its head.

anyways

unicorns are highly advanced beings, they can travel between worlds and use telepathy. they don't really like the "less advanced" races, mostly staying around to observe them. they have distinct societies led by a council of elders and tend to avoid evil

these unicorns are badasses

unicorns strongly despise the use of the force but encourage the power of destiny. in the context of pavetta's betrothal feast, a unicorn would not be happy with pavetta's little source hurricane thing, but would encourage geralt to follow the law of surprise

in of the witcher, unicorns are very important because of their world-hopping capabilities. the aen elle, unfortunately, realized this and began enslaving unicorns to help them plunder other worlds. this turned into a massive conflict between the unicorns and elves.

[yellowocaballero]

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut. 

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it. 

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand. 

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise. 

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow. 

**

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon. 

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole. 

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh? 

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy. 

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him. 

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha. 

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see. 

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him. 

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families. 

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic. 

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it. 

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free.  He was almost jealous. 

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks. 

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see - 

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever. 

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space. 

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned. 

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass. 

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway. 

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good. 

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always. 

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk. 

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family. 

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love. 

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer. 

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had  perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses. 

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that. 

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it. 

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem. 

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight. 

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation. 

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy. 

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered. 

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance. 

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped. 

Tim stared at her. 

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open. 

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger. 

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened. 

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting. 

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

 Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword. 

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now. 

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else. 

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door. 

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them. 

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all. 

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it. 

Bitch. 

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved. 

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down. 

The issue, of course, was hitting her. 

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said. 

“Too bad,” Tim said. 

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar. 

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar. 

No, not even that. It was a conversation. 

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it. 

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said. 

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to. 

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend. 

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her. 

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze. 

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head. 

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down. 

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her. 

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop. 

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him. 

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others. 

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be. 

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit. 

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for. 

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse. 

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed. 

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed. 

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint. 

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast. 

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina. 

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely. 

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably. 

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes. 

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened. 

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills. 

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie. 

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine. 

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him. 

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him. 

[harrywritingsbyme]

Okay, I'm just going to clarify this... The butts/boobs thing isn't not even just Harry not dating girl with it. Do you know how many times I got told by boys that they didn't find me 100% attractive bc my butt and my boobs are a bit fuller than what my body type normally has? Or like when I was starting to get my but a bit fuller bc I was walking around and crouching down to do stuff at work too much, and my bf say "you're getting too full, I don't like girls like that" or when people would call me fat bc although I'm very tall, I have fuller hips/bum/boobs so they'd say I'm over weight just based on that as the only girls my height they're used to see are models like Kendall Jenner? People saying I can't not wear a bra bc my boobs are too big and already sagging for my age?

Or when nothing ever fucking fits me and I have to get most stuff tailored? Like, do you know what's like having to go buy clothes and then having to go and spend extra money tailoring them??

And I won't even start on the comments that are also related to my race...

I'm sorry it offended you, but as Taylor said, we get shittied on daily and sometimes all I want to do is to go online and talk to the only tumblr that I have ever felt that gets me and shit back on the people that made me feel unfit and ugly my entire life 😒😒😒

- 🍉

I completely understand babes and I’ve had experiences that are similar to yours. I don’t want anyone to feel offended or feel bad about who they are. That’s the last thing I’d ever want for any of you guys. Now even though I do think that it’s not right and you shouldn’t have been treated like that, I don’t think that we should shit on them or anything like that. I more than understand your point of view and I have similar feelings. But they’re people too and should be respected the same way we want to me respected.

So I think that the overall consensus is that we need to embrace every body type, and maybe show a little more love to our fuller girlies bc of the fact that we are forgotten at times. I love every one of you and I think that else all need to embrace each other’s differences, in this regard at least. 🥺🥰❤️

[pacifistofpatience]

If you're doing that types of kisses thing, prehaps 7,4,3, or 2?

Went hogwild and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Except sleep, i need sleep now lol

Unbreakable Kiss- The type of kiss that really shouldn’t be happening, it’s a mistake, butyou just can’t find yourself able to pull away.

(Oh jesues fuck I got distracted half way through and mayhave fucked this one up a little bit but I have had this idea in my head for sogosh darn long now and the words just spewed(Also Mars Got a mind of his ownand just started going and I Didn’t know how to stop him!))

When you had filled out the paperwork for the “Monster Rehabilitationand Reconnection Program” (MRRP, as they called themselves) you knew you would beaccepted. You had spent years volunteering as a foster parent, and with a stablejob and home, you were the perfect fit to aid in the slow inauguration ofMonster kind after the rumored horrors they had survived in the Underground.

(Sometimes it was hard to believe that a whole race had beentrapped under Ebott for hundreds of years. Left to be forgotten with time and thento nearly starve to death. It made you sick, but it also made you want to help.)

And you were right, only a month later were you given theseal of approval and your first two charges- A Sans and Papyrus Serif. Two lovelySkeleton brothers that- despite their substantial size- seemed absolutely terrified of you. Youthought that maybe you were scaring them. That maybe just you- being human- madethem naturally inclined to assume the worst.

Not one to let this go, you gently gathered the two (Notover dinner, you refused to tarnish meal time with the anxiety that maybe they wouldend up trapped in another “talk”) and explained that if they felt unsafe with you,you would be happy to adjust your living style to make them feel comfortable.If there was anyway you could- you know- help them feel safer…

Sans, who had been quiet for most of their stay, laughed. Atfirst it was nervous, maybe even shy. Then, as it finally connected as to whyhe was laughing, he began to do so harder.

Eventually, the laughter died down, and they both confessedthat they weren’t scared of you but for you. They were sure you had simplyopened your home to them for the…what was it called?… Tax benefits? And that notonly did they assume you were terrified of them, but there was always thechance they could–

None the less, it led to a very long, very deep discussionabout how- no matter what- you were here to help them. That you cared for them in your own way.

~*~

That had been a year ago, and the brothers slowly but surelywarmed up to you.

And you, well, you had warmed up to them too. You beganto learn about them, about their little habits and the ways they ticked eachother off but loved all the same. You learned how much you could grow to careabout them…and in one instance lov—

No, no no no. Bad idea. You were here to help them heal. Notto let your silly little heart get in the way of all that. You brushed off the feelings.You pretended like when you spent time with one of them your heart would burstwith so much adoration.

Still, every time you came home and smelled the telltale scentof Pasta sauce wafting through the kitchen you found yourself melting.

~*~

For what it was worth you weren’t the one to start it.

You were exhausted, stumbling into the house and almosttripping over one of Sans many loose socks as you made you way into the kitchen.The relief that washed over you every time you entered the kitchen knowing youwould have both a full meal and others to share it with was never not euphoric.And on top of that getting to see the two place sett—

Wait? Two?

You blinked, eyebrow raised in confusion, “Pappy?” youcalled out, knowing exactly who was making that racket in the kitchen, “WhereSans?”

And there he stood, back strait and looking leagues betterthen when you had first met him, hovering over the pot of boiling water with a boxof angel hair pasta in his hands. He grinned, outshining even the sun, andsaid, “Oh! Sans Said Something About Wanting To Give Us ‘Alone Time’ WhateverThat Meant!” he used air quotes right, for once, “And How He Was Tired Of Us ‘DancingAround Each other Like A Bunch Of Lovestruck Baby Bones’ Or Something.”

You choked on air.

“Exactly What I Said! Can You Believe Him? I Do Not Believe EitherOf Us Have Ever Been To One Dancing Class, Let Alone Together!” He turned backto the pasta, stirring it, “And He Didn’t Even Give Me Enough Time To Prepare! DoYou Know You Have Absolutely No Candles In The House Suited For Dates! All IFound Was That Weird Battery Powered Thing You Stuck In The Pumpkin For HallowsEve! And…”

When you finally gathered yourself enough amidst Papyrusramblings you glanced up at him, you noticed that the entire back of his skull(and the rest of his face) was alight with a deep blue blush. For a moment youwondered if you should leave. Isn’t this something that could ruin everythingyou had helped build them up to? That maybe giving into something like this wasn’tthe right step at-

“And I Know What You’re Thinking.” Papyrus said, “Sans- He…MayHave Mentioned A Few Things To Me…”

That sneakily little bastard. You knew there was a reason hewas trying to weasel a confession out of you all those days ago…You had just hopedhe would have given you a longer grace period before jumping into things.

“I Know You…That You Were Weary About Potently Starting A…RelationshipWith Me But…”

Papyrus trailed off, and for a moment you thought he wassecond guessing things until he turned on his heel. Puffing out his chest as hestrode over to you with something that could only be described as a pensiveconfidence.

He took your hands into his.

“You…You Have Done So Much For My Brother And I…You HaveWelcomed Us Into Your Home- Your Life- Without Asking Anything In Return And InThe Year I Have Gotten The Stars Blessed Chance To Know You I Have Seen What AGoo- No! Great Soul You Are! And I Have Started To Develop Feelings For You InA Way Only That Can Only Be Described As Lo-Love, Absolut Unbridled Love! For You!And For Everything You Do! And I Wanted You To Know That While I Am PerfectlyContent To Stay As Friends! If Both Of Us Harbor Feeling As Such For One AndOther Then—Then Why Deny That Fact!” He leaned closer to you, if you wanted toyou could just as easily stand on your toes to–

“I—” you stutteredout, “I—am I allowed to—to kiss you?”

Papyrus let out a relived sigh, his shoulders slumped, “OhThank The Stars. Of Course, You Are.”

And finally, you closed the gap, lips brushing against histeeth. Both of you refused to break apart.

In The Moment Kiss -Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautifulnot to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good tostop. 

Laughter came easy for you.

You had always been so loud and joyful that it was no surprisethat your laugh was the same. Bursting with so much happiness that any room youwere in lit up at the sound of it (As well as the next few rooms over).  Your laughter was unashamed, like the warmth ofthe sun on the first day of spring, like flowers in bloom.

And Sans…well Sans was enamored.

Much to Papyrus’ dismay; puns became more frequent with youaround. Sans was always a moment away from spitting out a witty one liner, oreven pulling another prank that he knew would have you on the ground laughing(Even when you were the recipient—Stars, a human after his own soul!)

And with your body folded over like that-Perfect kissinglevel- your lips parted into another wide grin… Sans couldn’t help himself. Themoment was perfect- You were perfect.

Before either of you knew what was happening Sans had sprungup. His teeth clacked rather painfully against your still opened mouth as youlet out anther shocked noise and—oh? was this how kisses were supposed to go?He was pretty sure they weren’t, considering it ended with an impromptu dental appointment.

Early Morning Kiss -A kiss that’s a wake up call, its barely even lips touching, more likethey're kissing your chin because they’re so tired in the earlymorning haze. 

Rus sauntered out of your kitchen and into the living room. Youtilted your head towards him, still keeping you attention to the TV as you filteredthrough channels in a vain attempt to find something good. When you noticed hisempty arms you asked, “Thought you were gonna get us snacks?”

Ruse shrugged, brushing something that looked very similarto the crumbs from your left-over cake off his hoodie, “did.”

You gave him a soft smile, unable to be mad at the guy whenhe looked exactly like some kid sneaking the last cookie from the jar.

Rus settled on the opposite end of the couch, and you wentback to channel surfing.

Click.

You looked out of the corner of your eyes to see Rus messingwith a loose thread in the couch.

Click.

He inched closer.

Click.

His knee bumped yours.

Click.

“Alrightly.” You placed the remote down and opened your armsto him, “Come here Sugerskull. Think it’s about time you—UFF!”

The moment he was given the OK Rus scrambled into your arms.He pressed his body firmly against yours, hands snaking around your waist insomething akin to a death grip as he clung to you from all angles before goinglimp.

Rus teeth brushed against your jaw, and then lowered to yourneck where they lagged with no exact destination. He pressed his teeth against youonce more then finally settled into a nuzzle. Eventually he drifted off tosleep.

Hesitant Kiss -The type of kiss where their lips brush against each other’s a few times,breath fanning across each other’s faces as one waits for the other to make amove.

“doll, ya awake?”

You were, in a sense, but definitely not enough to acknowledgethe skeleton poking at your cheek. You loved Sans more than anything, but you dayhad been long, and you were exhausted. A twenty-minute nap could be prioritizedover you bonefriend this one time.

You grumbled a little but made no indication that you weregoing to wake up, instead cocooning deeper into your blankets. You heard Sans chuckle,but the poking had relented. Instead he rested a hand on your head.

And, after a moments pause, he began to stroke your hair.

Sans…he wasn’t…It wasn’t to say Sans was not a touchy monster. Of course, he wrapped his arm around your waist on occasion, or hadhands on you almost all the time but there was never not a reason for them. Mostof the time he did so was when you two were in public, and he had always doneso with a tense atmosphere. It was always a warning to those around you—you werehis and if anyone dared to lay a fuckin finger on you there would be hell topay.

This was different. There was no one to preform for in your apartment.No lurking dangers in the shadows. It was just you and him, safely enjoying anight in. And in your home, he had found the peace to finally touch you likethis.

You tried your best to stay still, but the knowledge thatSans was there- Stroking your hair like that had left you wide awake. You two stayedlike that for a long time, to the point where you had thought he had fallenasleep as well.

But then you felt his warm breath closed to your face.Hovering right there as his stroking paused.

You two had shared enough skeleton kisses that you knew whatit felt like when his teeth grazed your lips. And then when it happened again,but he seemed to make no attempt to kiss you- like he was hesitant to finally doso. Instead you opened your eyes (Noticing that his were still fixed on yourlips) and leaned forward just enough to mercifully close that gap.

[bishoujomichiko]

YOI Mafia AU: Ch. 3

Chapter 1|Chapter 2

Warning: MILD VIOLENCE AND GORE

•••

Minami yawned and stretched, it had been way too long of a journey getting to Liuzhou. They had to take a train out to Moscow to the airport, to get on a flight to Beijing. There, they had to take a series of trains and taxi’s, fighting through congested traffic just to get to their destination. He was beat. Yuri was even more irritable than Minami could have thought possible. Liuzhou was a large city in China’s Guangxi region. It’s was a fairly violent place, from what Minami researched. That, and the air was so polluted Minami thought he was going to be sick from all the fumes. He had seen some images on google of wildlife and sanctuaries that looked like they didn’t belong in Liuzhou; but, of course, they weren’t there for sight seeing. ”Walk fucking faster, you piece of shit.” Yuri was shouldering through the crowd, earning angry shouts from the abused passersby. “I want to get to this little hovel of a fucking hotel as soon as possible, before I end up killing one of these motherfuckers!” Yuri had bumped into a man so hard it caused a ripple effect. They continued walking as the poor guys who were pushed began fighting. Minami shuffled next to Yuri. “Hey, relax! You’re gonna pop a blood vessel one day, ya know?” Minami laughed until an elbow smacked into his ribs. ”Don’t fucking touch me! I’ll blow your brains out the next time it happens!” Minami sighed. This was going to be one long mission. He knew why the boss had paired them together, but he really did not want to go with this guy. Their personalities were the polar opposite, and he really wasn’t good at dealing with Yuri’s type. But, orders were orders, and Minami would never in his life go against Mr. Katsuki. Because he loved him. Not in the romantic way, though if he did, it wouldn’t be long lasting; Viktor would have a hit on him faster than he could blink. Minami respected Mr. Katsuki, he thought he was an amazing man. To be of Japanese race, and able to takeover the Russian Mafia? He’d be damned if anyone tried to downplay Mr. Katsuki’s strength. Minami admired the hell out of his boss, he would do anything for him. Anything. Like having Minami interrogate some of the mafia’s own. He hoped one day Mr. Katsuki might have reason for Minami to use his skills on Plisetsky. Now that, was something Minami was currently hoping for. Minami watched as the hot headed Yuri Plisetsky stomped in front of him. It was really agitating he had the same name as the boss. But what was kind of funny, was that Yuri had a similar personality to his older brother. His brother was nowhere near as much of a complete asshole, but there was still some similarity. Minami thought fondly of his family. Images of his mother and father and brother flashing through his mind. Minami came from a family of doctors, both his mother and father had owned a private practice, while his older brother was studying medicine. Minami’s family had ran into some money troubles, patients were seeking out city doctors; and against his better judgment, Minami’s older brother went to some less than savory people looking for some cash. What ended up happening was an age old story: His brother wasn’t able to make ends meet to pay them back, and so the gang had to use some force. Except, they didn’t just use some force. Minami remembers the afternoon like it had happened yesterday. He had just came home from school and walked through the front door. He shouted “Tadaima!” But he was answered with silence. It was weird, because on Fridays his mother and father had the afternoons off, and his older brother had the entire day off work. Minami felt fear seep through his body, he forgot to even take off his shoes when he went running farther into the house. It took him about seven large steps, he remembered, because they matched the loud pulsing in his ears. It took him seven steps into the living room to see what they had done. His mother was naked, her arms and legs angled in a strange way, with some crusted white substance on her inner thighs, her breasts, her stomach, and her face. She had a hole in her chest. His father was slumped against the wall, brain matter splattered and smeared on the wall as well, making a trail down to where he sat. His brother lay next to his mother; he was missing a hand, and Minami found it stuffed within his mouth. He had a gaping hole where his left eye should have been. Minami remembered the smell, too. It was metallic, the air of the house was suffocating with that metallic scent. There was so much blood that it seeped all the way into the kitchen entryway, and Minami even noticed that his shoes were now dipped in red. The last thing he remembered he was vomiting all over himself, and his jeans were soaked in his own piss. It was about a year and a half until Minami found the whereabouts of the people who murdered his family. Ironically, he found them on his seventeenth birthday. The best gift he could have ever been given. A group of them were drinking in a strip club, but the one Minami wanted had walked outside with a girl hooked under his arm. So, Minami waited. He patiently followed the drunken man and the the prostitute until they sunk into an alley. Minami even waited until they were finished. After ten minutes the man came out, zipping and buckling his pants, and Minami was ready. Thankfully, the man came out alone; Minami took the metal bat that accompanied him and slung it at the man’s head. Just enough force to knock him out. He didn’t want to kill the man. No, not yet. Thankfully, everyone who he passed on his way back to his small apartment had thought he was just helping out a drunk friend. Minami had already prepared his apartment, covering his entire floor with plastic wrap. He muffled the man’s mouth with a strip of cloth, and waited. Minami was so very patient with people. He thought it was very important to take your time with others. It was important to be kind, after all. So he very patiently, and very kindly, waited for the man to wake up. When he did, he struggled against the chair, trying to rip his hands and feet out of the ropes. There was fear in his eyes. Minami watched, and drank it all in. He was the one who ordered those men to brutally murder his family. Minami had already taken care of the men who did the actual killing. In fact, Minami kept little keepsakes to remember them. Nails and teeth were locked in a box beneath one of the floorboards Minami had rutted out. He wondered what he would take from this man. The man that ordered to take all that was precious away from Minami. ”My name is Minami Kenjirou, it’s nice to meet you!” He bowed slightly. ”You’re here because you killed my family. And now I’m going to kill you.” He laughed lightly. But first, you’re going to feel every bit of pain that I feel. Every ounce of it.” Minami went to his little rolling table that had his parents surgical tools neatly placed on top of it. Minami picked up a scalpel. ”Let’s see, what do you enjoy the most? Seeing, tasting, or feeling?” Minami stepped closer to the man, who had just wet himself, urine dripping onto the plastic covered floor. Minami started laughing until tears pricked his eyes. ”Man, this is really a disgusting sight! If only you could see yourself!” Minami snapped his fingers and then clapped. ”I know! Let’s start with your eyes, huh?”

After Minami had chopped the man’s already mutilated body into pieces and stuffed them in a bag, he had borrowed his neighbor’s car, who was on vacation, and drove out to an overpass that hovered over a river. The same one where he got rid of all the other bodies. He had to be quick, because eventually someone would drive on it, hopefully anyone but the police. The body bag was heavy, and took Minami almost ten minutes just to get it to the railing, when he heard footsteps. He whirled around to see a man only about a head or so taller, walking towards him. No Minami turned to run to the car, but bumped into something hard. He was immediately swiveled around with his arms pinned to his back. He struggled, and kicked, but the hold on his arms only got tighter, sending pain traveling up to his shoulders. ”Oh my, what’s a young man like you doing out here so late at night? I wonder what could be in that bag.” The voice had a sing-songy lilt to it. The first man unzipped the body bag, looked inside, and then zipped it back up. He coughed. “Are you Minami Kenjirou?” ”No-” his arms were pulled tight again, he let out a small yelp. “I wanted to extend my gratitude to you. The men who killed your family were a rogue faction of the Mafia. You got to them before us.” The man kicked the bag lightly. “Seems like you really enjoyed yourself, too.” The man gave a nod, and Minami was released from the vice like grip. “You're…you’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” Minami thought he was going to begin to tremble, but this strange calm pervaded his entire body. Death seemed like a sweet reprieve. He didn’t think he’d see his family in the afterlife, though. Not after the things he had done. But still, there was nothing for him here. He was ready. ”No. I just told you, I want to extend my gratitude.” The man offered his hand to Minami. Not a very Japanese gesture coming from a Japanese man. “My name is Katsuki Yuuri. I am the current leader of the Russian Mafia. I came here on business, of which you seemed to already have taken care of.” Minami’s head was given a rub; he had completely forgot about the man standing beside him. The man that had held him was far too tall, and had sleek silver hair. “Great job, kid! My name is Viktor, by the way. Not that I’m of any importance compared to him.” He pouted, nodding at Yuuri. “B-but…how are you…M-Mr. Katsuki…how are you the head of a Russian Mafia? Are you half Russian or something?” Yuuri smiled and put a finger up to his mouth. “That’s classified information.” Yuuri bent over and picked the body bag up with ease, tossing it over the edge. Minami ran to the railing, and watched it plop into the water. Sending ripples through out. It was like an extreme weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he felt light and light-headed; the tears began to fall. Minami’s hand was grabbed by Yuuri, a pen scribbling in his palm. “If you ever find yourself in trouble, give me a call. Or, if you decide that you can’t return to the life you lived before, there will be a position waiting for you in Russia. I would like you to wait a couple years before you decide on the latter, though. Try your best to live happily, because the path you’re on does not provide that.” Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov began to walk away from Minami; he watched their backs until they were out of sight. Minami looked at the sky and saw a faint light begin to bleed in the darkness. Morning would arrive soon.

Minami felt a slap on the back of his head. ”I’m fucking talking to you, moron!” Yuri crossed his arms. “You’re paying for the fucking room, since you left your damn drink tab for me to collect the other day. So pay it.” Yuri turned and went straight to the elevators before Minami could protest. He sighed. A ten dollar drink didn’t exactly match up for a hotel room. But he obliged. Before Minami even got done checking in, Yuri was back and rushing up to the clerk. “Why the fuck is there only one fucking bed in that fucking room?” The poor clerk tried to explain in the best English he could that they were sold out of doubles, single bedrooms were all that was left. Which made Yuri go ballistic, grabbing the terrified Chinese man by his collar. “You are being ridiculous! Stop! I’ll get extra blankets and I’ll sleep on the floor, Jesus Christ.” Minami pried Yuri’s hands off the clerk’s collar, and recieved a shove. “Of course you’re going to sleep on the fucking floor, bitch. What, you thought I was going to let you sleep in my bed?” Yuri scoffed, and retreated back the way he came. Minami apologized thoroughly and made up a story how Yuri was suffering from an extremely itchy and uncomfortable STD that made him irritable, trying his best not to burst out laughing. He gave the man a large tip and made his way up to the room. Yuri was already sprawled out on the bed, clicking away at his phone. Thankfully there was a couch chair in the corner, so Minami wouldn’t have to sleep on the dirty floor, after all. “We’ll rest tonight. Tomorrow we start looking for the informant, got it? And if you snore, I’m going to kick your ass out into the fucking hallway.” Minami smirked, put a fist to his chest and bowed. “Yes, my lady. I shall comply.” Minami laughed and rushed into the bathroom, Yuri trailing behind. Yuri was cursing him and trying to kick in the door. ”Hey! If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask!” At that, Yuri kept cursing, but was no longer trying to break in. Minami laughed for five full minutes. When Minami finished showering and changing into a pair of sweats and a t shirt, he was surprised to find Yuri still awake, and on a laptop. “Bathroom’s all yours, my friend.” Minami was looking for the extra sheets he was supposed to get for the chair, when he realized he had forgotten to call down to the front desk. “Shut the fuck up. That Thai prick just sent all the extra info.” Not thinking, Minami hopped in the bed, sitting in close to look at the laptop. “What the fuck are you doing? Move the fuck over!” Yuri tried to push him off, but Minami had grown tired of the blonde’s miserliness. “I need to look at the information, too. Can you please stop being so freakin’ difficult? I’m not going to pounce on you or something. You’re definitely not my type.” Minami laughed, Yuri scowled. Minami twisted the computer in Yuri’s lap a little bit towards him. He could just feel the agitation oozing out of Yuri. ”Cao Bin, Huh? 24. Frequents delivery from a pizza shop downtown. Has a sprained ankle…most of this information is not very useful, Phichit…” Minami was talking to himself. “…I can’t do much with pizza and a limp.” Yuri scoffed, “That’s why you shouldn’t be here in the fucking first place. You just sit back and use that fucking mouth of yours when it’s needed. Otherwise keep it shut and stay the fuck out of my way.” Minami was going to say a raunchy joke, but decided to keep it to himself. “Well, if that’s all that the infamous hacker Phichit Chulanont can find, then this guy is definitely good at hiding.” Minami scratched his head. “Guess the first thing we should do-” “The first thing you should do is get the fuck off my bed. I’m going to sleep.” Yuri shut the laptop, and put it on the nightstand, shutting the lamp on the table off. Minami made his way over to the small, cramped chair and tried to adjust himself. It was going to be a long night, he could tell. “Tomorrow, we’re going to that fucking pizza shop.” Yuri turned over, his back to Minami. Duh Minami finally shifted into a decent sleeping position in the uncomfortable chair. It had been only a couple minutes of blissful silence, before Yuri started to snore.