#sometimes i see him in ny dreams

[californiastatelibrary]

He's just sitting there... ✨menacingly✨

Please enjoy meeting our resident Slowly Melting Wax Nixon Head, he lives in the California History Room and he does not have eyes.

[wampiryzm]

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[aperrywilliams]

More Than You Expect (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

Part 1: More Than You Know

Part 2: More Than You Say

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!exBAU!Reader.

Summary: You have a new life, and Spencer isn't in it. But somehow, you both cross paths again. Will it be just like the wind passing, or will it stick?

Word Count: 7k

TW: ANGST WITH "HOPEFUL" ENDING. Strong language. Mention of sex, illicit acts, jail, typical CM things. A character gets injured (nothing life-threatening). If I forgot something, please let me know.

A/N: The last part of the trilogy "More Than You..." It's done, folks. What started like a one-shot a year ago is complete now. Thank you for all the comments I got about this one, your likes, and your reblogs. Tell me your thoughts about it.

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Big changes are usually something people are eager for or afraid of. You are in the second group. You don't like changes. There's no way you stayed in the BAU for more than a decade if it weren't in part for fear of making big changes in your life.

It's not that you don't like to imagine new things or dream of something different, but uncertainty is something you aim to avoid at all costs.

Although your predisposition, when you confessed your feelings to Spencer on a fateful afternoon at the BAU three years ago, you knew a big shift was coming, and there was no turning back. That same night, after he left your apartment, you knew it would be the last time you would see him.

And boy, that one was a hell of a change.

After thirteen years of spending together almost every day, he would no longer be a part of your life.

You handed your resignation letter to Emily the next morning. She tried to convince you to stay, but deep down, Prentiss knew whatever reason she could give you, it wasn't enough. You had already made up your mind.

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From one big city to another. New York welcomed you with open arms. The NY FBI field office did, too.

Although you chose to stay as an FBI agent, your job would be slightly different from the one you had been doing at the BAU when you joined the Organize Crime division.

It was a little intimidating at first. There was a lot of action, certainly a lot of undercover missions, a bunch of criminals, too many drug busts and guns. In summary, a lot of everything. But with time, you learned that OC has so plenty of shit targets as the BAU had. It wasn't rare to come face to face with psychopaths sometimes. And your training as a profiler has come in handy more than once.

After you left DC, you never looked back. You asked Emily to please not tell anyone where you would go. You also write a letter to Garcia, pleading not to track you down, assuring her you would be fine, and if the future would make you cross paths again, so be it, but please do not push it. She replied with a full four-page letter, agreeing with your request but giving you her thoughts about why she felt you were doing wrong.

You appreciated her honestly, but it was done.

No listening to Prentiss's instructions, Spencer tried to reach you regardless. Your phone kept receiving daily calls and texts for months. You didn't reply to any of them.

Until someday, it stopped.

You should have felt relief, and sort of you did, but it was a bittersweet feeling knowing the last string that kept it joined to your old life was cut.

That was the change, and you took it.

Were you doing okay? Did you accept it without consequences? No.

But the new job needed to do its magic. You were so consumed by what you were committed to doing that nothing else mattered.

In the past three years, you have gone undercover so many times, some of them with direct life risk, but you were in one piece. You have been shot and stabbed, though, giving you enough scars to talk about.

Your teammates were and are still very surprised by your versatility and compromise. Your philosophy? Do the job, take another case, work your ass on it, and catch the bad guys.

They even started calling you the Lone Ranger. Why? Although your work involves a task group with more agents, most of the time, your missions are in solitary— weeks or months of not having contact with your team until there is some break in the case.

Once the job is done, you return home and just shut off from the world.

You only socialize after work a little or the bare minimum. Just a few colleagues know things about you besides your prominent former career as a profiler in DC. And certainly, nobody knows the true reason why you moved to New York in the first place.

It's better this way, and you are used to it.

And what about your current love life? While in DC, you didn't have one because you were pining for Spencer; in New York, you don't have one because nothing seems too serious to think of it.

Flings? Of course. But that's all. In some way, you became the same kind of person you criticized in Spencer.

Life works in mysterious ways.

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"The NYPD called us an hour ago asking for one of our most wanted, Vincent Clark," your boss, Agent Lindstrom, says as Monday's morning meeting starts.

It's not something uncommon. Local police have their own OC task force, and you have worked together more than once. The weird thing is that from one moment to the next, they request information from a target, of which, in theory, only your team knows.

"And they want information because-" you enunciate the obvious question.

"They're working on a case involving a string of civilian murders in Manhattan, and for some reason, his name came up," Lindstrom fills.

"Murders? It doesn't sound like Clark's MO," John Miller - a colleague - muses.

"Certainly not. NYPD has to be wrong," you back Miller's observation.

"And why NYPD-OC are investigating civilian murders? Does it have to do with some kind of operation?" Adam Taylor - another teammate - asks.

"Not quite. The local task force is helping 1PP because things have been escalating pretty quickly," Lindstrom explains. "But we here must find out why Clark is a person of interest and verify if they're indeed wrong about him. We don't want them to blow up our intel for no reason. So, Taylor and (Y/L/N), you're assigned to go with NYPD and help to clear this up."

That's how you got a new assignment. And not as undercover; that's a shift.

Taylor is driving this time, and you only look out the window, focusing on nothing in particular.

"You okay?" He asks after some time, resting a hand on your knee. You turn to see him.

"Yeah, why?"

"You are too quiet. Maybe you are mad at me?" Taylor asks tentatively. You raise an eyebrow.

"Why would I?" He clears his throat at your question.

"Well. Because, you know, we haven't talked about the other night."

The other night. Adam is referring to when you came back from your last undercover mission of four months and ended up in his bed at the end of the day.

You tensed at his response. You knew it was a bad idea to sleep with him, but you always thought about it as stress relief, and you thought he understood the same.

"There is nothing to talk about, Adam. We both know what it was." You try to sound cool but soft as well so as not to hurt feelings - if they were there.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just was making sure you were okay with it."

Why do men have the compulsion to mask a question that only cares about them, like uninterested concern about you?

"I am. Don't worry," you assure Adam with a confident smile.

To your ease, the conversation ends there.

You always have kept your distance in this job, with the prerogative of not getting involved with colleagues. What went on with Taylor is still bothering you because it was something that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

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The NYPD quarters welcome you with Captain Novak's handshake. Soon, you learn he wasn't aware the locals had called your boss for intel.

"I'm sorry you had to come here. We are already having the FBI help on this," Novak explains. It's a way to say they don't need you there.

But you have a job to do, so you can't just leave.

"Due to the information we got, I think we can be useful too, Captain," you point, as Taylor backs you up saying something similar.

Novak understands he should use all hands available, so he agrees to have you stay and join the group working on the case.

"Yeah. I think any information would be useful in this case. Come on, I'm going to introduce you to the task group working on this." You and Taylor follow him down a hall to the end, where a large meeting room is.

After opening the door, Novak is ready to make the formal introductions.

"As I told you, an FBI unit is helping us on this. Here is the BAU team. Agent Prentiss, Rossi, Alvez, Jareau, Lewis, and Reid."

Your breath suddenly hitch in your throat at the sight of your old team there. And everyone is looking back at you with a perplexed look as well.

Novak continues talking. "These are Agent (Y/L/N) and Taylor from the OC division." After a second of contemplation, Novak let out a chuckle. "Ha, it's weird. I have to introduce two FBI teams working on the same case with the NYPD."

The guy has a bizarre sense of humor, but he has a sense of humor nonetheless; you have to give him that.

Not that you keep a count, but it has been three years, two months, and twenty days since the last time you saw them. Plus seven hours if you consider the last time you saw Spencer. Since the night you kicked him out of your apartment.

You can't help but make eye contact with him. You both look shocked. And how not to be? Neither of you woke up this morning thinking about seeing each other again.

"Agent (Y/L/N), it's nice to see you again. Good thing OC wants to help here. I can tell you about what we have got so far."

Emily speaks, breaking the silence and setting the rules of the current interaction. She is as surprised as everyone, but it would be time for that later.

It's a welcomed way out of the uncomfortable moment, and you take it.

"Sure. Do you think Agent Taylor could catch up with the intel you got from the current suspect?"

Emily nods. "Of course, Lewis, Reid, can you help agent Taylor on that? Captain Novak, maybe you can give some insight from the locals, too?"

Tara and Novak agree verbally, while Spencer only gives a curt nod.

Spencer makes brief eye contact with you before leaving the room.

Hell, what were the odds of something like this happening? You chose OC in another city precisely because you would hardly end up working on the same case.

Well, fuck the improbability.

When you're left alone with the rest, you don't know whether to ignore the elephant in the room or acknowledge the three years in which none of them have heard from you.

"It's good to see you, bella," Rossi cuts your mind spiral.

"Yeah, hope New York has treated you well," Luke seconds.

"I'm sure OC is happy to have you," JJ adds.

Each one of your former teammates offers you positive words you didn't expect to hear after leaving the way you did.

"Thank you, guys," you mumble gratefully.

Prentiss speaks up before things turn too emotional.

"Okay, okay. We'll have time for that later. Now, we need to crack this case. Tell us (Y/N) what can help us catch this unsub?"

You proceed to explain your concern about whether they are focusing on the wrong suspect. Emily listens to you carefully, and the rest share their impressions. There is no clear conclusion, but you decide to proceed with caution, given Vincent Clark's importance to your team.

"Okay. This is what we are going to do. Luke, you and JJ track Clark's associates first. Discretely, of course. Dave, can you check with Garcia about what these buildings in this list have in common?"

Once they are all gone with a task in hand, you stay alone with Emily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know they would call you for this case," Prentiss muses. Your mouth goes agape. Why is she apologizing to you?

"Emily, it's okay. It's me who should be sorry for disappearing like that. I - I never contacted you, and you have the right to -" You can't finish your idea because Emily cuts you off.

"I know what are you going to say, and no. We are not mad (Y/N), we understand. You didn't want to be found, and we get that."

You surely appreciate her reassurance, but it doesn't make the guilt go away.

"Spencer does, too?"

Emily furrows her eyebrows. "In a way, I think he does. But he won't tell you that," she confides.

It's better than nothing.

"Is he okay, though?" You ask, believing if his life improved after your departure, you could feel a bit less shitty.

"I can't answer that. You will have to ask him."

Emily's assertiveness strikes again, you think. She's right. It's unfair to talk about Spencer with you when you were adamant about her not speaking with him about you.

You nod. "Fair enough."

For the rest of the day, things are pretty hectic. Police officers and FBI agents are coming and going; new information comes to check, and there are more witnesses to interview. There's so much movement that you haven't been able to stop a second and think about how you feel seeing Spencer after three years.

Emily has been cautious about not assigning you tasks where you might coincide, but you still can see him in the police station, and you've even exchanged furtive glances from time to time.

Taylor catches you doing it one of those times.

"What's wrong?" At the question, you turn to see him.

"Uh? No. Nothing." You're too distracted to notice Adam doesn't believe you.

"So, they are your former team in DC," he remarks, trying to get you talking. Since you arrived at 1PP, you have barely said a word not work-related to Taylor.

"Yeah." It's the best you can give him. You know what Adam is doing, but you won't engage. You have a lot on your plate already.

Your mind starts mulling the idea of talking to Spencer. But why would you do that? You were very clear the last time you spoke about your need to step aside. You were explicit to him about not having the strength to keep supporting him in his free fall. Sure, he promised to change and all that jazz, but you knew staying would only have brought you more pain and disappointment.

Despite all the reasoning, in the back of your brain, there is still the question of whether he really did what he said he would do. It's a morbid thought you have sometimes entertained.

Taylor's hand on your shoulder brings you out of your thoughts. You look at him in a daze. "Novak is calling us," he announces, frowning. Adam knows there's more going on in your head than you let on, and he has a suspicion about what - or rather who - it's about.

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It's late at night, and still, there are no clues solid enough to catch the unsub. You all start to feel the exhaustion but keep going. You haven't seen Spencer, Tara, or Rossi in a few hours, so you think Emily sent them to the hotel for the night.

Taylor told you he needed a break as well. So you're alone in one of the offices, going through folder after folder in case you overlooked something.

You're so focused that you jump when you notice the silhouette of someone standing in the doorway.

It's Spencer.

"Jesus! You scared me," you exclaim with a hand over your chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that," Spencer apologizes, closing the door behind him. His voice is calm and collected. You inspect him with curious eyes.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, a little harsher than you have liked. Spencer contemplates his response for a couple of seconds.

"Uh, I just wanted to say hi and to know if you were doing okay?"

His voice is unsure, and you look at him in disbelief. It's your confusion that prompts him to continue. "Well, if this had happened months after you left, I would possibly have come to yell and accuse you for leaving like that. Now? Just let's say I wanted to make sure you are doing okay," he clarifies, hands in his pockets.

"Well. I'm doing okay. I hope that satisfies your curiosity." Your response is curt and snarky, and you don't know really why. He hasn't said anything out of the ordinary. Spencer doesn't seem surprised by your tone, though.

"It does. Thank you."

And maybe it's enough for Spencer to turn and leave you alone, but you have the question at the tip of your tongue.

"So you're not mad at me?"

Spencer narrows his eyes. "Uh, I didn't say I'm not mad. I said I'm not here to throw it at you," he clarifies.

For some reason, the answer to your own question ignites an old bitterness you thought was gone.

"Oh, thank you very much," you mock. "A bit bold of you, don't you think?"

Spencer scoffs. "Bold? Bold being mad after you left from one day to the next?"

And there you go. So, Spencer's main problem is that you left in a hurry rather than the reason why you did it.

"What did you expect? Did you think I was going to stay after what happened?" You ask with incredulity, standing from your spot and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Maybe not. But head-ups would have been nice," Spencer matches your sarcasm.

"Yeah, and a goodbye party, too," you deadpan, and Spencer breathes a humorless laugh. Your irony is pushing his buttons the way you know it does, even after all these years. But why are you doing it? You don't really know.

"(Y/N), you literally disappeared! I was - we all were worried. I know you didn't want to talk to me or see me, for that matter. But why leave the BAU like that?"

Spencer looks distraught just at the mention of that fact. You don't interrupt his rant.

"For months, I really thought something bad had happened to you until Emily told me you were actually okay and that I should stop bothering you."

"It took you long enough," you mutter under your breath.

For a long time, you thought your reaction and later decision to leave like that was too much. Maybe it wasn't necessary to drop everything to start over, but you knew if you wanted to leave behind thirteen years of a lot of things, thirteen years of Spencer Reid, you needed to do something big—a major change.

"Yeah. It took me long enough. But don't expect me to be cool about it. It hurt (Y/N). It hurt like hell," Spencer admits.

"Why? Weren't you living the life you wanted?" you ask sardonically, and you see how Spencer's jaw clenches.

"You know I didn't. And I told you back then I realized about that, too," Spencer says, referring to the last time you saw each other—the night you kissed, and he told you he loved you, but you didn't believe him.

"But I get it. I understood why you didn't trust I was telling the truth, and it was fair. But to disappear like that? It was a lot (Y/N)."

In some way, you truly think Spencer's feelings about what happened are reasonable, and even you can understand the grudge he holds against you. But you are not in place to admit that to him. Not when the memory of what happened starts to burn in your brain and heart again.

"Are you done?" Pettiness is the only thing at hand you can use for now.

Spencer sighs. "I don't want you to think I'm admonishing you or whatever you think I'm doing. I really get I did wrong back then, and I hurt you. I'm not dismissing that fact."

"Good! Because here I was thinking you already forgot," you state, raising your voice.

"Jesus, (Y/N). Can you stop that?" Spencer's voice raises, too, to match yours.

You are about to make another remark when the door opens.

"(Y/L/N), we are going to -," Taylor starts to say but is cut off when he sees you with Spencer arguing. You both get startled and turn to see him. "Am I interrupting?" Taylor questions with eyebrows furrow.

"No-"

"Yes-"

You and Spencer reply in unison and make Taylor hesitate. "(Y/N)?" he asks you directly this time, tentatively approaching. He looks worried, and you don't want to make a fuss right now.

"It's okay, Adam. We are discussing something about the case. I'll finish here and join you, okay?" you say, with a soothing hand on his elbow.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah. I'll be with Novak," an unconvinced Taylor says as he retracts from the office, leaving you and Spencer alone again.

When you turn to see Spencer, he has his eyes trained on you, analyzing you. It's a piercing gaze you haven't seen in him in a long time—years, to be exact.

"What?" You ask, trying to break the trance. It seems to work because Spencer clears his throat.

"Nothing. Uh. I should go. Emily must be looking for me," he mumbles before passing you. Almost leaving the office, he turns for a moment.

"I really wanted to know you were okay. I'm sorry for what I said after that."

When the door closes behind him, you are left standing, questioning whether the last ten minutes have actually happened.

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'I'm sorry for what I said after that.'

Why is he sorry? Is it because he didn't mean it? Is it because he didn't want you to know?

It's not that you feel guilty, or maybe you do to some extent. Whatever it is, the thought of Spencer in the past three years has haunted you in many ways and forms.

Yeah, you came to New York to put distance between yourself and him, but what you never saw coming is that sole fact started to weigh on you in many aspects of your life. At first, you thought that due to the bond you both had forged for years, things would not look very good. Sure, it was going to take a lot of work, but you thought time would do its magic.

You tried—you have been trying hard. And even though you still believe it was the right thing to do, why have you yet to make peace with yourself?

Why has happiness been elusive to you? You haven't been able to make real friends; you haven't been able to have a healthy relationship. You've immersed yourself in the job, hoping sooner rather than later, the moment when the pieces finally fit together will come.

Will it ever happen?

When you think about that, your mind wanders to Spencer and whether what you're feeling now is anything like how he felt at the time. Or maybe how he still feels. You don't know. The times you have thought about it always end with the conclusion it's not the same. He had you back then. You don't have anybody.

Seeing him now only has fueled your self-struggle, and although you think it's not fair to take it on him this time, your actions haven't reflected that thought.

After considering your encounter in the precinct office, you concluded the best thing to do is to keep the peace between you both. To be civil and avoid the bickering. You are an adult; you can do that.

What you didn't expect is it hasn't been necessary to put your resolution into practice since you haven't run into Spencer again. The times you've seen him, he's barely made eye contact and immediately gone in the opposite direction from you.

In the meantime, the hours have passed, and you are almost ending your second day on the case, at least with more progress than the day before.

There is a good clue about who the unsub is—Albert Thomas, who has a direct link to Vincent Clark, your target from OC. Indeed, the unsub would be part of Clark's team.

Given that, you and Taylor inform your boss, and he allows you to participate in the takedown only if you can get Clark as well. It would be the conclusion of more than a year of chasing him.

It is a complicated operation, so everyone—officers from the NYPD, the BAU, and the OC division—prepares to catch Thomas and those involved with him.

Upon arriving at the abandoned building where you expect Thomas to be, Emily sends you in pairs to different points. You go with Taylor to cover the back door. Upon entering, you realize it is suspiciously quiet. The lighting is bad, but you don't want to use your flashlight so as not to alert them about your presence. You go first, and Taylor covers you. You arrive at a room where some light sneaks in. You go a little forward and peek, realizing Clark is filling some briefcases with money. He has his back on you, so he doesn't notice your presence.

"FBI! Hands up!" you shout, approaching with your gun pointed at Clark. He turns around but doesn't seem scared. Why? He is not alone.

Unfortunately, that thought comes too late. In a matter of seconds, Thomas pounces on you, throwing you to the floor. Your weapon falls meters from you. You know Taylor is behind you, but you see Clark grab his briefcases and run towards another escape door.

“(Y/N)!” Taylor shouts, and you barely hear him in your fight with Thomas. But you know if he stops to help you, you'll lose Clark.

"Go for Clark!" You shout him back, rolling on the ground after Thomas jabs your face with his fist.

You can't see Taylor, but you know he is hesitant. "Go!" you insist until you hear him running outside. Now, you can focus on Thomas. You manage to asset a blow to his jaw and push him away from you, but as you are kneeling and about to stand, he is on the floor pointing you a gun.

Where did he get that?

He is going to shoot you. You can see it in his eyes. You know the profile, too. He hasn't nothing to lose. You need to think fast. Talking to him won't make a difference. You decide your best chance is launching at him and pray the bullet doesn't hit you badly.

But before you can do so, you hear a gunshot. You close your eyes because you think it's coming from Thomas's gun. When you notice you don't feel any impact and you hear Thomas's screams of pain, you dare to open your eyes.

Spencer is standing with his revolver pointed at him. He was the one who shot, preventing Thomas from shooting you.

You let out a sigh of relief before collapsing to the floor. Although you didn't get shot, you are very beaten up, and the adrenaline rush leaves you without the energy to keep yourself on your feet.

Spencer is fast to catch you before you hit your head. There is commotion around, but you can barely hear anything. Even Thomas's screams sound far away.

"Hey, hey. I've got you," Spencer mumbles, adjusting you in a lying position, holding the back of your head in his hands.

"Thank you," you breathe out.

You won't notice much of what happens next. Paramedics come to check you out, but you only focus on the squeeze of Spencer's hand in yours. It's the only thing that grounds you as your eyes begin to feel progressively heavy. There comes a point where everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you are in a hospital bed. You see Adam with his back to you, talking on the phone, possibly to your boss. When he hangs up the call, you get his attention.

"What happened?" Your voice is raspy, so you assume it's been a couple of hours since you got there. Taylor turns and gives you a little smile.

"It's good to see you awake."

Adam tells you he caught Clark, and they can link him not only to Thomas's murders but to all the evidence against him you have been collecting over the last year. Adam also tells you what the doctor said about your condition. Despite the pretty bad blows you got, there is nothing serious, and you will be able to be discharged in a few hours.

"Where is Spencer?" you blurt out, not fully registering what you asked. A slip you quickly try to disguise. "I mean, the BAU. They have Thomas in custody?"

"Yeah. They brought Thomas to check the GWS, and after his discharge, he got into custody. And yeah, Agent Prentiss and Agent Reid came to check on you a few times," Taylor adds to his recounting with a knowing look you prefer to ignore.

Why does learning they came to check on you make your chest feel warm? You blame the medication the doctors surely gave you.

As Taylor said, a few hours later, you are discharged from the hospital with instructions to go home and not back to work in a week.

Your boss gives you the instructions on the phone. He sounds very happy to have Clark in custody and even mentions a promotion for you for such a successful operation.

You should be happy, right? But in all honesty, it doesn't feel like it.

You decide to go home to catch some needed sleep. Maybe sleeping helps to stop overthinking things. But before you can doze off, a ding from your phone grabs your attention.

Emily P: 'I hear you were discharged. We are leaving tomorrow morning. Would you like to celebrate with us and have a drink tonight? For old-time's sake?'

A nostalgic smile forms on your lips. A drink with your old team? Why not? Even if Spencer is going to be there, you already think it's time to make peace with what happened for your own good and mental health.

-----------

The sound of music and laughter makes the bar feel lively and festive. Upon entering, that's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is you haven't been to this place for a while, being one of your regulars when you just moved to New York. At the back of the bar, you can see Emily, Luke, JJ, Rossi, Tara, and Spencer talking and laughing, each with their drink of choice. It's good to see them like this, relaxed, enjoying the moment. It brings back very good memories.

"(Y/N)!" Emily calls you, and everyone turns to see you. You wave and stroll where they are.

When you sit down, the first thing they do is ask you how you feel after the beating Thomas gave you. You don't know if it's on purpose or not, but no one is referring to the fact he almost put a bullet in you.

The conversation flows animatedly. While you tell the most notable anecdotes from your missions in OC, they review some of their most important cases from the last three years of the BAU. The ones who talk the most are Emily, Luke, and Rossi. While JJ and Tara rather break jokes and are more affected by alcohol than the rest. Spencer is the quietest of all, but he also participates in the conversation and even asks you questions about the things you say.

If you thought it might be an awkward instance, your former team proves the opposite, even considering the circumstances and reasons why you left the BAU. And although no one refers to it, everyone tacitly knows that it is there.

They don't resent you. They understood you needed to leave, and although you didn't tell them the reasons, they knew. Even Spencer seems comfortable when you have thought he wouldn't.

The conversation comes to a stop when Emily raises her glass, clearing her throat.

"Well. Uh. It's a weird time for this, but I do think things happen for a reason," Emily prephase, looking at everybody. "So, okay. Here we are tonight with an old friend who left the nest a few years ago," Emily looks at you. "To say goodbye to another of our own who is also embarking on new paths," now her eyes settle on Spencer. "I wish you the best in your new life. We'll miss you a lot. To Reid and his last case at the BAU," Emily toasts.

As everyone raises their glasses and cheers, you can't help but look at Spencer with surprised eyes.

Is he really leaving the BAU? After all these years? Did his last case end with him saving you from a bullet?

He gives you a short glance before sipping his beer.

"Come on, we want a speech," Luke demands, and everyone backs him. You're still in shock to say anything.

Spencer's cheeks redden a bit as he clears his throat before speaking.

"When Gideon recruited me for this job, I never imagined all the things I would experience in 17 years working here—the good and bad. I will always fondly remember everyone I met here and had the honor of working with." Spencer's eyes now focus on you.

"On my first day, I was so nervous I thought I was going to mess it up. But in the conference room, I met someone who was also on her first day. Knowing I wasn't the only one helped me not to run away."

Everyone is listening with raptor attention, and you know they are looking at you from the corner of their eyes.

"Do you remember the times we said everyone would leave before us?" He asks you, and now it's your turn to feel your cheeks burn.

"Well, it didn't happen that way. But I guess Emily is right, and things happen for a reason," he muses. "I wish some things could have been different, but we can't change the past," he says before averting your gaze. "I only hope the bond we forged all these years remains, even if we don't see each other that much or at all. I thank you for everything you have done for me, especially at my lowest points. I apologize for the little I gave in return," his gaze returns to you. "Thank you, guys. I'll miss you all."

Everyone clinks glasses, and Spencer's eyes keep on you. Why does the air feel suffocating from one moment to the next? You don't know what to do; the intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, and you think if you don't do something, you will faint right there.

You discretely apologize and get up from your spot. You need air.

Once outside, the cold of the night hits your face, but it is welcomed.

Your heart is still beating fast. Why are you so affected? Is it because Spencer is leaving the BAU? Are the memories he brought back during the toast?

"Are you okay?" A shy voice says behind you. It's Spencer. He followed you outside. You turn to see him with pained eyes, and Spencer worries even more. "What is it? Do any of the bruises hurt?"

Spencer believes your discomfort is physical. How ironic. In the last hours, you had even forgotten the beating you got.

You shake your head. "No, I'm okay. It's not that," you admit, and Spencer doesn't say anything, waiting for you to continue. "Is it true? Are you leaving?" He nods. "Why?"

It's weird how that fact has shaken you—or maybe not that weird. You never pictured Spencer in a place other than the BAU. You even talked about it several times. Like you, Spencer has never liked to make big changes, and you understand him more than anyone because you still feel the same about that.

"It doesn't make sense for me to stay anymore. It has been like that for a while," he shrugs.

"But you love the BAU. You always told me it was your life," you remind him. Spencer lets escape a little chuckle.

"You told me the same thing years ago, and you left nonetheless."

"It wasn't the same," you dismiss, shaking your head.

"I know. But since then, I've been questioning my reasons to stay."

"Why?"

Spencer takes some seconds to contemplate his response.

"Well. Maybe because it should have happened sooner? Honestly, I think the only reason I lasted this long after I was released from prison is because you were there supporting me. And well, after that? It took me months of therapy to realize it and almost two years to make the decision," he confesses. You are quite shocked hearing him talk about prison and therapy. Those things were banned for to mention three years ago.

"Months of therapy?"

Spencer shrugs again. "What can I say? I took your advice. You were right. I needed help to know what I really wanted."

His words bring you back to that night. The last time you saw each other. You wondered for a long time if Spencer got to make sense of what you said to him. Did he understand how hard it was for you to decide to step aside?

"You know? At first, I started it because I had the secret hope you would come back. And I promised you to change. With time and the certainty I had lost you, I began to accept I had to do it for myself."

Spencer's eyes drift to the distance like he can see those moments of realization he had back then.

"Did you?" Your voice is soft, trying not to cut him off from his reminiscence. His gaze comes back to you.

"Yes. And I thank you for it. I know I said a lot of other things at the precinct, but above all, I understood. I still think it's unfair, though."

"Unfair? Why?"

"I pushed you to do something I'm sure you didn't want to. It was me who should have left, not you."

"Spencer-" you start to say, but he cuts you off.

"I know, it is done. But what I said at the toast? I really meant it. I wish some things would have been different. Jeez, there are a lot of things I should have done differently. I wish I hadn't gone to Mexico. I wish I had told you I loved you sooner. I wish I hadn't chickened out when we first kissed."

Spencer's voice trembles a little. He is pouring out a lot of emotions, and you are there trying to digest all of them.

"But you said it yourself. It's done." Your tone isn't accusatory rather than nostalgic. He nods, clearing his throat.

"I know. And I can't go back in time to change it," Spencer acknowledges.

"Why are you leaving, then?" You are not saying it as if it's the wrong thing to do this time; it's more that you need confirmation that he is not running from reality as he did back then.

"Because I need to find my fresh start, as you did it. Well, and because after 17 years, to stay catching serial killers is not healthy, according to my therapist," he pulls a face after his last statement, making you chuckle.

"Am I listening correctly? Will Spencer Reid do what a shrink recommended to him?" you quip.

"What can I say? I'm a new man," Spencer shrugs, and you smile for real.

It's clear to you that he says it jokingly, but there is some truth behind it. It is not that people can go completely against their essence, but time has proven to you that things can change, and it's not necessarily totally good or totally bad. It's just different in shades of gray. And as something different, there is nothing wrong in looking for another change from time to time, even if that throws you out of your comfort zone.

As you both stand there, you realize that things in life are not linear. They are constantly coming and going. It's laugh and cry, condemn and forgive, mess up and amend.

"It's getting cold here," you start, and Spencer nods. "But I know a coffee shop nearby that is open this hour. Would you-? I mean, so we can keep talking. You don't have to, of course. I know you guys have a flight early in the morning." It's tentative; you can't really read him. Are you overstepping? Your overthinking dissolves when you see a grin forming on Spencer's lips.

"I, uh. I'd love to. I mean, to keep talking. Sure."

"Great. Okay. This way," you point, starting to stroll down the sidewalk. You adjust your coat to shield your neck from the cold as Spencer shoves his hands in his own coat pockets, walking beside you.

In a comfortable silence, you both bask in each other company. Is it like it used to be? Not quite. But it's a familiarity you can relish—a newfound understanding of what changes mean between you both.

Enough to lead you to talk for hours, laughing at your own silliness and crying at the painful admissions, causing Spencer to lose his flight the next morning.

Enough to make you leave New York months later and start teaching at the FBI Academy while Spencer gets his tenure at Georgetown.

And who knows? Maybe it's the same understanding that, six months later, will make you pursue a new step after a kiss under the street lights on a cold night in DC.

——————

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

For those who asked for a part 2 or/and part 3: @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402 @theoraekenslover @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @s1lngwns

[ghoststyles]

Meet Me In Augusta

A quick little check-in for Fairway to Heaven ❤️ inspired by my beefy hunky man at the Masters 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

SMUT. FLUFF. That’s all.

———————————————————————————

When Briar and Harry first got together, she thought she’d won the lottery. A doting, strong boyfriend who puts her needs above his own. He cares for her dog as much as she does, gets along with her family members, and donates to charity regularly. It’s like the heavens handmade him. And yes, the reverse is true on Harry’s part. She’s his dream girl, and the bloody best thing to ever happen to him. But, where he’d truly won the lottery differs slightly:

He won tickets to the Masters.

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to attend one of the four major golf tournaments, and when Harry entered his name in the lottery system the year before, he never thought he’d see the day where his bucket list item would be checked off.

Briar is lounging on Harry’s couch, watching old episodes of Real Housewives (NY, obviously) with Gus at her feet and a bowl of popcorn and M&Ms beside her when she hears a completely manly and dignified shriek from Harry’s office. Sitting up in alarm, she opens her mouth to yell back to him, to make sure he’s okay, just as the heavy oak double doors swing open. Shirtless and in his Calvin Klein boxer briefs and socks, Harry sprints down the hall, phone in hand as he leaps over the back of the sofa to stand beside her.

“What on Earth! Harry, you’re scaring me! Is there a mouse? Where are your clothes?” Briar screams, jumping up to crouch on the sofa and cocooning herself in her blanket in case there’s a spider clinging to him.

Harry is laughing maniacally, and every so often an oh my god leaving his mouth. He nods to whomever he’s talking to on the phone as if they can see him before thanking them and hanging up.

He drops the phone, eyes wide and meeting hers. Grabbing her shoulders, he all but tackles her back to the sofa, signaling Gus to bark at him for hurting his mom. They’re on the settee part of the sofa, Harry’s arms wrapped around her, preventing her from moving, even if she wanted to.

“Harry! Tell me what’s going on right now!” Briar’s shrill voice finally brings him back to Earth.

He peppers kisses on her neck before shouting in her ear, “I’M GOING TO THE MASTERS!”

She doesn’t respond, not because she’s not supportive of his enthusiasm, but because she has no idea what that is. Feigning a smile, she replies, “wow, baby, that’s great!”

Craning his neck, his brows furrow when he meets her gaze, a clear indicator she’s confused.

“Birdie, do you know what the Masters is?”

“Mmmm, is it like MasterChef?”

Harry squawks out a laugh, shaking his head, “No, my love. The Masters is one of the big four golf tournaments for the PGA. When you win, you earn a green jacket and become a member of Augusta National in Georgia. And then you get to plan a celebration dinner. Plus, you win like, $3,000,000.”

“Ohhhh, okay, yes. Uncle Patrick has gone to that, I think. He didn’t win, though.”

Harry’s brows furrow even more, a bewildered look gracing his features, “We’ll come back to that later. I have a lot of questions. But, you enter a lottery to win tickets and I won! Otherwise, tickets are almost a million dollars.”

“A million dollars!? The course better be made of solid gold. I can’t even believe the stuff people spend their money on sometimes.”

“Tiger Woods will be there. He hasn’t played in a few years because of injuries. Baby, I could be near Tiger!” he smacks her ass, eliciting a yelp.

He hops up from his spot on the sofa as he looks outside with the biggest smile on his face, running his hands through his not-so-there curls on his head. He’d shaved it a few months ago impulsively; that was a crisis Briar never thought she’d see the other side of. But his peach fuzzy head grew on her.

“When is it?”

“Second weekend in April. Are you doing anything?”

“Me? Why wouldn’t you take Niall?”

“He and Lydia already have a wedding that weekend back in Ireland. I already asked him.”

“So, I’m your second choice!?” Briar smacks the sofa cushion beside her, faking offense.

Harry rolls his eyes, “You didn’t even know what it was five minutes ago, brat.”

She parrots his eye rolling, leaning down to snuggle Gus. They’re quiet for a moment, letting Harry soak in the news.

“Wait, why don’t you have clothes on?”

“Oh, I stripped them off as they were telling me I got the tickets. I was just too excited,” he responds casually, as if the answer is obvious.

———————————————————————————

So the pair is in Augusta, Georgia, watching Harry’s childhood dream come true. The problem? No phones allowed.

To maintain their traditional values, Augusta National banned the use of cellphones. Briar’s lovely boyfriend failed to remind her of this fact until they were in the back of an Uber heading to the course.

“No phones!? I wanted to document this whole experience for you!” She whines, gently squeezing his wrist.

“Thanks for wanting to do that, Birdie, but it’s okay. My generation isn’t addicted to their phones. We like to live in the moment.”

“Oh my god,” she snorts, punching him lightly. If anyone is on their phone too much, it’s Harry. His entire day is determined by solving the New York Times Connections puzzle. What do you MEAN the theme was ice cream flavors without the last letter?

“What if we get separated? How will I find you?”

“Did you pack your leash?” Harry smirks, waiting for her to smack him again.

“H! Quiet,” she snarls, trying not to look if the driver is listening. “Fine. Do they collect the phones or do they just kick you out if they see it?”

“I think they kick you out and you’re not allowed back, ever. There’s also no running. It’s hilarious. When everyone is trying to follow around the big names, it turns into a speed walking competition to try and beat them to the hole.”

She hums, looking out the window at the gorgeous scenery. She hasn’t spent much time down south, but this trip has changed her opinion of this part of the country. They’ve had beautiful dinners at night on patios and taken walks on historic grounds.

“Good news is, the food and drinks are super cheap, and I think you have some French 75’s calling your name.”

“Yesss!”

The Uber turns, the beautiful gates to the course opening as they pull in. The white building before them is gorgeous and neatly kept, embodying the prestige of the entire event. For a moment, she thinks Harry is tearing up. Harry snaps a photo of the two of them in front of the building to send to Niall and Patrick.

He grabs her hand and squeezes gently as he flashes their credentials to the security guard.

“Lead the way, baby,” Briar whispers, linking her arm with his as they stand outside the car, taking it all in.

Like a kid in a candy store, Harry drags her by the wrist, slaloming through the crowds of people as they all try to make it to the entrance.

Harry looks fucking good today. He’s donning a navy blue sweater on top of a cobalt blue golf shirt. His taupe pinstripe pants are pressed perfectly. His fingers are decked out in rings of all different finishes, and his Prada sunglasses fit his scruffy face perfectly.

The finishing touch, his shoes, are what has Briar giggling to herself. His black Hoka sneakers are throwing off the whole vibe. She tried to change his mind as they packed, but we’ll be walking a lot, and I don’t want my plantar fasciitis to come back!

To make the occasion even more special, Briar let Harry pick out her outfits. She knew he’d pick out her lavender sports dress, a classic piece she whips out when they play on weekends so he’s frustrated and thrown off his game. She’s 3 for 4 on this strategy.

Harry loves the way it cuts at Briar’s strong thighs, and shows a little bit of her back. To elevate the look, she tied a white Hermes scarf around her neck just like Daphne! Her shoes are white Vince Camuto sneakers with no support. She knows she can’t whine later if her feet hurt, in fear of hearing a relentless, I told you so!

Before examining his choices in her suitcase, she zeros in on the lack of underwear and bras. She knows he also picked her floor length, black bodycon dress. He’s really pushing the limits of voyeurism with these picks.

They finally make it past security, thankful they didn’t confiscate her purse, a gift from Harry that is just a smidgen too large for their rules. He leads them to the main clubhouse to grab their first drinks of the day, and maybe even a breakfast sandwich.

They start off with mimosas to ease into the day drinking, because Harry is too fucking old for daydrinking and Briar is a menace when she drinks when the sun is up. By their third round, Harry is full on fangirling as all the players buzz around him. He’s allowed to fangirl all he wants, but when she wants to gush about One Direction for a minute, he covers his ears. Eyeroll.

Briar snaps out of her brattiness, deciding she needs some food in her stomach. As they’re gathered on the 8th hole, she starts to “koala” him, as he so lovingly calls it. She wraps her arms around him from behind, laying her chin on his bicep.

“What’s wrong, Birdie? Hungry?”

Briar lightly bites his arm, looking up to meet his sideways gaze. Part of her hates how well he knows her. She slides her hands in his front pockets, making him wiggle uncomfortably.

“Be good,” he says lowly so only they can hear.

“Okay, Daddy,” she says sweetly, smiling up at him. “But yes, I’m hungry.”

Briar can feel him hesitate, clearly conflicted in what to do next.

“Okay, baby, but,” he pauses. “Tiger is at this hole next, and I’d really like to see it.”

Briar slumps, making a slight hmmph sound. She knows better, and knows how important this is to him, so she shakes it off.

“It’s alright, I can go back to the clubhouse by myself. Will you stay here so I don’t lose you?”

“Of course,” he leans down to gently peck her lips, before his head whips around as Tiger arrives at the tee box just a few feet from them, sending the crowd into a chaotic roar. She reluctantly lets go of his waist, crossing her arms over herself as she walks away.

The crowd has only increased as they arrived, and she’s honestly overwhelmed. A staff member nearby can sense her unsettled demeanor, so he asks if she’d like a ride back to the building.

She smiles at him, “Yes, that’d be lovely! Thank you so much.”

Trey, the worker, doesn't say much, but Briar isn’t one for awkward silences. She tells him about Harry, Wynnewood, and how this is a lifelong dream for him to be here. He nods along, visibly recoiling after finding out Briar isn’t single. She hops off the cart as they approach the doors, and waves a friendly goodbye.

Perusing the snack bar, her eyes are bigger than her stomach. She grabs grapes, potato chips, a turkey sandwich, and even a pudding cup. A nice man helps her condense her items into a cardboard box for carrying. She grabs a fresh squeezed lemonade to finish off her deliciously simple lunch.

Slightly tipsy and overly giddy, she finds a bench to start eating. It’s amazing the different walks of life at this event; the die-hards who don’t care about the glamor of it all, and the ones that are here only as a status symbol. It’s honestly nice not having her phone; she’s a little more in touch with her surroundings.

Taking small bites of her sandwich, she’s startled when another man approaches her on the bench.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you Miss Barlowe?”

Taken back, she nods as she swallows her bite, “Yes, can I help you?”

“Mr. Styles is on the line over there,” he points to the hilariously old fashioned phone stand, where 3 mossy green phones hang on the wooden stand. “He just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

Briar smiles, patting her mouth with her napkin and rising to her feet, “Thank you so much. Do I have to do anything to connect to the call?”

“Just press # and it should connect. I’ll be right over there if you have trouble.”

She laughs to herself as she approaches and presses the ‘#’ just as he said, “Hello?”

“What are you wearing right now?”

“Who is this?” She plays along.

“Your handsome, charming boyfriend,” he muses.

“I have a few of those, so you’re going to have to narrow it down,” she fakes a sultry tone.

“Briar – come on, you know I don’t like those jokes,” he mutters.

She laughs, twirling the curly phone cord around in her hand, “I feel like Carrie Bradshaw with this phone, talking to one of my boyfriends.”

“Are you insinuating I’m Mr. Big? I’m Aidan at the very least. The good guy.”

“Of course you’re Aidan. But instead, we get married.”

“Yeah, y’wanna marry me?” Harry can’t contain his grin as he looks around to see if anyone can hear him. “I won’t say yes until you come back here and get down on one knee, Briar.”

“In your dreams, Styles. Why’d ya call anyway? I’m just sitting here eating my sandwich.”

“Just missed you. Tiger got a birdie on this hole, so it made me think of you.”

“Aw, you’re cute. You’re the first place boyfriend today. You were in third yesterday, for reference.”

“Glad to hear that. Finish up your lunch and come find me. I’m gonna go to the 17th hole to try and catch Justin Rose. He’s an old friend from home.”

“Okay, I’ll come find you. Love.”

“Love.”

Briar hangs up the phone, the butterflies in her stomach buzzing. Since returning home from California, she’s never felt so secure in their relationship. He’s balancing fatherhood, work and their everyday life with ease.

Readjusting her skirt, she walks back over to the bench, mouthing a thank you to the worker who let her know Harry was calling. She sips on her lemonade, the ice rattling as she finishes the cup. Tossing the remnants of her meal in the trash, she spots the beverage cart girl. Briar smiles as she approaches her, requesting another French 75 and a Casamigos on the rocks for her lover.

The 17th hole is a hell of a lot closer to the clubhouse, but swarmed with people. It’s going to be a needle in a haystack to find him. Briar scrunches her brows, scanning all the kinda old white men with brown hair. Where is her old man?

Panic sets in for a moment, until she feels two hands on her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly and kissing her neck where it meets her shoulder.. She squeals, reaching for her skirt to make sure nothing is showing. He didn’t pack her any underwear, after all!

“There y’are, Birdie. Wish I brought your leash to drag my cute puppy around. Make everyone jealous.”

“They’d think you need to be sent to jail, actually. Were you able to focus in my absence?”

“Yeah, but I missed your hundred questions and commentary. Is that for me?” he asks, pointing to his drink.

“Yes, but you made me spill it on my shirt,” she frowns, her gaze traveling down to the beads of liquid wicking off the fabric on her chest.

Without a second thought, Harry leans down, pressing his mouth to just over Briar’s nipple to suck up the dribbled liquid. Her eyes widened, in disbelief he just did that. She grips the back of his hair, pulling him out of her bosom.

“H! What the hell are you doing? We’re in public!”

“Mm, I know. I’m so hard right now. And thirsty. Saw an opportunity,” he smirks, his grip now around the back of her neck. “Wanna take you to the clubhouse and fuck you dumb.”

“Harryyy,” Briar whines again. Little does he know all he has to do is slip her skort to the side to reveal her soaking wet pussy. She does her best to drag her six foot tall boyfriend to the treeline, hiding themselves from prying eyes.

“Let’s go. We’ll find somewhere safe. Daddy needs you to do a favor for him,” he says low in her ear, his tongue touching her earlobe. “Did I tell you how happy I am that you came with me?”

“I’m happy you invited me,” she places a gentle kiss on his lips. “Love seeing you happy.”

———————————————————————————

The lovey dovey talk is how Briar got HOODWINKED into sucking her boyfriend’s cock in an administrator’s office at Augusta National Golf Course at the biggest event of the year. The door locked, thankfully, but the amount of foot traffic outside the door has Briar’s head spinning, even more than when his tip touches the back of her throat.

Harry lets out a guttural moan, “Oh my – fuck! Such a good fucking girl.”

Briar is pulling out her signature moves; cupping his balls with one hand, tweaking his shaft with the other when her mouth doesn’t cover it, and swirling her tongue along the ridge of his bright red, plump cockhead.

Briar bats her eyelashes and pulls off just as he gives his sign of completion; his left thigh muscle twitching. Harry’s eyes shoot open as he grips the desk to prevent himself from falling over. He was so, so close.

Before he can speak, Briar stands, pushing him to half lie on the desktop, opening his belt and pants wider. She climbs on the desk to straddle him, staring down at him deviously.

“Wanna ride you, Daddy,” she whispers in his ear. She sits back up, pulling her skort to the side to show him her pussy, spasming and begging to be touched. He reaches out to touch her, but she bats his hand away, instead placing her hand around his neck firmly. “Nope. No touching.”

Harry snorts, knowing anytime she’s tried to be in charge, she fails miserably. He knows she’ll be howling for his help in a few minutes. His smug look is wiped clean as she grips his cock again to line him up with her dripping hole. They moan in unison when he pushes through the tight opening as she squeezes him for good measure.

Briar bounces lightly, the skin of their thighs slapping together. She could listen to the sounds their bodies make for the rest of her life. He bottoms out a few times, puffs of air escaping his nose as he struggles to not cum immediately.

She starts to rub at her clit, her free hand coming up to tweak her nipple. His eyes are closed again, so she takes her middle and ring finger that are rubbing and sticks them past his lips. He moans, lapping up the wetness from her fingertips and choking on them a bit. She smiles before bringing the fingers back to her center and continuing to rub.

“Oh my god, baby. You taste so good,” Harry whines. “Want you to come. Then I’ll come in your little pussy. Don’t know how you’ll hold it all in there.”

Briar cries out, seconds away from tumbling over the edge. She leans forward, gripping the desk above his head. They’re making extreme eye contact now, the tension between them palpable.

“I’m cumming, Daddy. I’m cumming. Your cock feels so big in my pussy,” she cries out as Harry feels a tiniest bit of wetness expelled from where their bodies meet. She twitches, barely able to hold herself up. He sits up on the desk to support her and begins thrusting up into her with his hands wrapped delicately around her body, fingertips digging into the plushy skin of her ass and waist. He captures her lips in a deep kiss, her breath stuttering when he rams himself back into her.

The two remain intertwined, reality hitting them when Briar utters words he never thought he’d hear from her.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Fill me up. Make me yours. Wanna have your babies,” she fires off things he can’t even comprehend. “Want you to make me a mommy. Fuck – want it so bad. Fill me up, please!”

Harry’s breath is knocked out of him as he throttles upward, his tip colliding with her cervix every time. As he topples over the edge, he buries himself in her pussy – his eternal resting place, he’s decided he’ll request in his will – and releases his full load into her. He drops backwards, beginning her down to lie on top of him, his pants now hanging around his ankles.

“Oh my fucking GOD, baby. So fucking good for me,” he says into her ear, a shiver running down his spine.

“Love you, Daddy,” she says quietly, her ear pressed to his chest so she can hear his heartbeat racing.

“Love you so fucking much, Birdie,” Harry sighs, petting her back.

Harry smiles to himself. The diamond ring he has in his bag at the hotel is going to make an appearance even sooner than expected.

He’s sure of it.

[starryjkoo]

I was rewatching the last Suchwita episode Jungkook was on and it was just so endearing how he couldn’t help but talk about the Jikook NY trip even though it was something that would have to be edited out. It was funny because later in the episode he started talking about SNTY and stopped himself because he said he probably shouldn’t talk about it. Taehyung said to go ahead because they could just edit it out and JK said this 😭

And he was so serious about it! Like it was such a blunt refusal that Yoongi even told them (jokingly) to take it outside if they were going to argue.

And yet, when Yoongi asked JK about the travel show he couldn’t help but go into so much detail about it with such an adorably big grin on his face despite it absolutely being something that would have to be edited out (Jikook were taking spoilers about their show extremely seriously too lol!).

It was just sooooo cute 😭 Jungkook could have stopped at any point too but he even goes right into a second story after the “heartstrings” comment.

It’s just really sweet because that whole conversation with Yoongi was so genuine, like it was a conversation between the two of them that wasn’t part of the show because it was obviously full of spoilers that couldn't be aired. Either JK momentarily forgot because he was just so into sharing the story or he just didn’t care because he really wanted to tell Yoongi about it anyways.

And the way that both of them looked so amused and endeared the entire time from the first second that Jimin was brought up is just so��� idk, I need better vocabulary, but it was just so damn adorable lol. Jimin really does have that effect on people because literally the first mention of him and it’s all laughter and smiles and you have JK forgetting his “why would I talk about something they have to edit out” mindset.

Also Jikook in general just seem so excited about their show and it’s really sweet. They've only really mentioned it I think in this clip and the last live where they jumped on Namjoon for spoiling something lmao, but it’s like the way they talk about it and how obviously excited they are to share it with us and how JK was so amused by whatever funny chaotic things happened when Jimin arrived... it's really heartwarming. And it’s just sweet that no matter what they always seem to have so much fun together.

Anyways, it’s just really funny that in the SAME episode JK asks why would he talk about something that’s going to be edited out he talked about something that had to be edited out because it involved Jimin lmao. The fact that Jimin is always some sort of exception to Jungkook too is seriously something. Like speaking of Suchwita, it reminds me of when JK basically implied that the Jimin episode was the only full episode he had watched (that whole JM live was just crazy tbh).

I really can’t wait to find out what happened that was so chaotic and funny that had JK smiling like that and what had Jimin “tugging on heartstrings”. Like, is there going to be a scene of pitiful, pouty Jimin? Or is he just super endearing at one point? I'm so curious to see what all went down. And the Japan trip just seems like a fever dream, but that's just a whole other can of worms. But I really hope they release the full Suchwita convo sometime because the way JK talked about it was seriously adorable.

[rhiezus]

[UNDRESS] The sender begins to unbutton the receiver's shirt, taking their time with each button. // jinhyung x kyungri NAO AGUENTEI EH O GIF QUE TA NO SEU TUMBLR

there could be little to a non-existential excuse to treating his wife so casually on a day to day basis. it's not that jinhyung doesn't think he is a good husband or that he doesn't make an effort to be the best he can — because he absolutely does. but things change drastically in your life when you have kids and you find yourself busy going through life trying to raise a family focused on building a nurturing environment for them. it takes a toll on you too because through many expense that becomes part of your goal, one you never had before but that now you don't know yourself without. suddenly everything becomes about what you can do for them and how you're gonna do that, that's your dream and that's your life. it may sound imprisoning for some people but for parents like jinhyung and kyungri it's so much more than that, it's care and it's love and it's an every day struggle that is so much more than worth it just to see their innocent smile or little feet happily wobbling around directly into their safe arms.

so yeah, in the process you end up forgetting a little bit of your marital life. or even about your own life as an individual, an individual that has needs just as any other. sometimes you gotta stop everything you are doing to realize who you were before this and how is that person still doing inside. to jinhyung doing that is to look beside him, kyungri has all the answers he needs in her eyes, he can tell just by the way they go through day to day together. when they sit down on a sunday night after putting up the kids to sleep, both tired as hell from a day of going out or just keeping about, trying to put together a schedule that works for the next two weeks. who is going to do what, who has work, who can stay at home, nannys and kids schools... when she gets that crease between her eyebrows, she is thinking intently on something, focused. when he pouts like a baby because he doesn't wanna do this anymore, he just wants to sleep, but she always manages to remember who important it is for them to decided what day he can take off so he can pick her up from the studio and they can make some love in the car on the way home — or even better when they can escape for ice cream, eating alone on the car and talking about their day. that's team work, one their build with so much effort. and even so it's not always that everything works out according to plan, they can't account for ryze getting sick on a random tuesday or for aria losing her favorite toy on a friday night keeping everyone up looking for it until one am. still, jinhyung says that's the magic. they make it work, every single time, like they are some kind of wizards.

every day or so they can relax, today is a sunday where they don't have to think about any of plans for the week because both of them talked over last week. they worked their asses off for seven days straight just to get a free little time. today there was no planning ahead. jinhyung had his day off because it's sunday and he has a no work sunday police, but kyungri had flew in a bussiness trip last night and she arrived today just a little after seven. they put the kids to sleep together, thankfully everyone had their desired toys and stuffed animals on their rightful places this time and since they doze off quickly, they enjoyed the silence before nine o'clock. a wine bottle was opened in the upmost quiet ecstasy they could muster, they sat on the couch and drank the whole bottle before they even realized. and frankly neither of them was tired and their eyes found each other naturally through the conversation — this and that, "how was your trip?", "...some nice people there", "ny's cough is getting worse", "i don't know if i like how my voice sounded", "maybe we could eat there for dinner tomorrow".... — there was a moment jinhyung looked intently at kyungri's lips, how they moved while she was talking and how did her lipgloss was still standing after getting off the plane, kissing their kids goodbye and drinking wine. the damn glass of wine got to take if off and he didn't yet, he got mad about that for a second before he could notice what her hand was going up and down his tight making him look to her eyes again. "sorry, love." his voice was whispered deep between them, one because they had children sleeping upstairs and second because he wanted her to be the only one to listen to his pleading.

and with kyungri you don't have to say twice for the message to be delivered, in a glance or even an expression; a single exchange of any of those and they comprehended each other. years of being together, marriage and children just makes each other's reflections as natural as breathing. jinhyung leaned forward after seeing the grin that grew on those lips, kissing it off in a single move, a quick one that was stopped only by her hands reaching the collar of his shirt, the fingers working really slow on the buttons. "c'mon you can do better than that." he teased when his face was still hot on hers, inches to taste that lipgloss again. they were not going anywhere other than that moment, on that couch, wine in their veins, everything just a little too intoxicating to be rushed. there was no need not to savor how her scent was the same from the day he first met her, many moons ago. or not to notice that now that they were so close, jinhyung could see a little bit of her red lingerie sticking out of her white shirt. all this going through the man's head while she was still fiddling with his buttons, smiling at him. when she was about the last two, he smiled back at her and tossed her hands aside in an abrasive movement, slipping himself off his shirt with ease. "there, better." he whispered forgetting the shirt was ever even capable of anything, he was too damn hot for wearing it anyways. then chasing for her lips again with his own, gently and passionately. he was going to be a very good husband now, one that didn't let his wife plead for anything other than him.

[tsintotwo]

Happy Tom at the Osaka Comic-Con.

Quick recap of the panel: He got there from NY the previous night, dove headfirst into Japanese food first thing (had taco wasabi- literally raw octpus- and chicken neck). His fav ice cream flavor is vanilla ('keep it pure')- without any topping on a cone. One of his fav Sandman dialogues is 'I am hope', his fav Dream-Hob era is Elizabethan (we knew this). To build the Sandman figure, 'you eat nothing and work out like you're about to play Thor'. He would never choose between theatre and TV, and if he were a DJ like Carl was in The Boat That Rocked, he would leave the music to people who understood it better than him and air conversations with people he cares about on why they make the things they make. His birthday is Dec 5, 1985. Why is it different on different websites? No clue, no one ever asked him.

I want to say something. This was a 25 minute panel. On the stage, there were three men on his right, one woman on his left. The men read out fan questions in Japanese, the woman translated them to English. Tom answered. The woman translated it back. The men would then exchange a few words among themselves, and/or have something to say to Tom based on his answer which the woman again translated for Tom.

In all this, Tom was extraordinarily attentive and engaged. Of course he gave fun and/or thoughtful answeres to the questions like he always does. But beyond that- whenever Japanese was being spoken, he looked at the speaker and listened, even though he didn't understand a single word. Tom's most common listening expression is the pinched-lipped pout, and in lots other interviews/cons you can see him listening but not loooking at the person speaking. Here, he made a point of looking at them. He nodded and smiled based on their gestures and expressions. He rarely took his eyes off them or lost focus. I posted a clip of him looking confused earlier- that was one of the one/two times that happened. And once he got the idea of how it was working, if his answers were long, he started pausing in the middle to give the translator a chance to take it by pieces. He made sure she understood what he was saying. He didn't stare into space or look impatient when other people on the stage were having a small convo within themselves.

I actually never spent time looking at celeb things like comic-cons before. So maybe this is the norm, and most of the men and women we see on screen are amazing at these events and just great people in general. I have no context. But I just know as someone who frequently gets lost into her own head even in engaging environments, being this dedicated to a space and situation that can't be made completely inclusive probably wouldn't be possible. My attention would get loose, and/or I would decide it's less awkward if I don't engage when they aren't speaking a language I know. But Tom made it seem easy and smooth for himself.

I love Tom, yeah, we all do, but this sort of stuff just gives me so much respect and appreciation for him as an individual. I know fans like to yassify him based on things like his smol-bean/cinnamon roll energy, and while that's cute, it sometimes has the risk of making a person's image into that of a man-child. He isn't that, though. Shy and (sometimes) awkward as he is, this is a very intelligent man, emotionally and intellectually, and I love to see it come through.

[theskeptileptic]

my dream peter parker/batfam fanfic would be like a borscht of all the best tropes from ao3 with these seasonings:

au divergence after end game. but instead of tony snapping, peter snaps. he’s dead, he’s died, except maybe the stones hear his last wish as “keep them safe” and interprets it broadly to mean him too—so they yeet him to the dc universe.

but he’s not magically healed. so his arm/side is charred and damaged and his healing is taking care of brain damage but only the worst of it. boy’s got amnesia and a paralyzed arm and landed, let’s say, exactly where the NY battle against Thanos was being held but in this universe, that happens to be a Bristol skatepark at eleven-thirty at night

where a sixteen year-old tim drake is angsting pretty hard and struggling with his own recovery post a Rogue smack down that has left him with some newly acquired, long-term physical disabilities

(and tim, who has convinced the batfam that he has an uncle to care for him, is also dealing with all the juicy unreliable narrator tropes these orphan boys seem to acquire like pokémon cards—he doesn’t think he’s part of the family, he can’t be useful anymore, he’s stepping back to give jason and damian space)

(and let’s say, bruce is also missing because, it’s my story, so dick hasn’t been able to look into the uncle thing because he’s dealing with becoming a dad to an angsty 12 year-old assassin kid who is threatening to run back to Ra’s but is also clearly in need of love)

(and let’s also say, jason is trying hard but isn’t talking to dick right now because he thinks tim shouldn’t have been allowed to fight the rogues in the first place, so he’s unreachable for the moment)

but now tim is staring at this boy who has popped up in his old skatepark and has to give first aid but can’t because of his own difficulties

so he calls jason who answers because it’s tim and tim was really hurt, and tim freaks out and jason comes and they call an ambulance for the boy

peter is unconscious but opens his eyes when the ambulance gets to the park. tim is talking softly to him and peter reaches out because tim reminds him of ned.

peter’s sticky powers mean tim has to come to the hospital with him because when peter fainted again, he was still attached to tim’s hand

“who is the boy?” ��how did he get so hurt?” ask the hospital, cps, gcpd. so they take fingerprints and blood and dna and low and behold, a match.

because it’s my story

and i’m a genie

granting wishes to myself

and i’m a glutton

and i will die choking on my own sweet, sugary fluff

dick grayson is the father. (because richard parker is richard grayson is my kryptonite) jason realizes his brother will need some major help, so they reunite over this news.

tim sticks around once peter wakes and they all realize peter has amnesia.

“oh, my uncle won’t mind me staying here for a bit. he’s on a business trip.”

(later on in this huge behemoth of a head canon, tim and peter solve the mystery of bruce being lost in time. i’d love to see a red robin au where peter and tim are working together and dick is trying to keep his alternate universe son from spider-manning in front of ra’s.)

lots of angst potential when peter’s memory returns.

potential running away

potential misunderstandings?

alfred is not uncle ben, peter knows this, but sometimes, peter hangs out in the kitchen because alfred will say the same things uncle ben said, just in a better accent

jason and peter bond instantly. damian and peter bond instantly. how does tim handle a kid his age, going through some of the same health, physical challenges, who just seems to have a much easier time getting along with his brothers?

delicious.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Hey :) this is a bit if a sensitive topic… but i got an idea for a request and i don’t know if you’d be willing to write it? I’ve been struggling with anorexia for a very long time and i’ve been thinking what if y/n was in the love band and she has an ed and body image issues and you know the outfit the band’s always wearing? For me personally, it’d be so triggering to wear because i know i’d feel so fat wearing it (don’t know why tbh)…Anyway, what if she hasn’t really told anyone about her struggle (maybe they saw signs but don’t know for sure) and she’d agreed to wear the outfit but then before a show she has a huge panic attack and Harry finds her crying backstage…

And also like i just want to say that there’s nothing wrong with being bigger and that "fat" is not a feeling but i just can’t help my brain 😣

Sorry for the long ask.. and I also hope you’ll feel better!!🙂

Hello friend! First off, thank you for sending this request and for trusting me and this online space to share your struggles. That can be really challenging, especially on the internet where you don't know how people will take things or react sometimes. Especially with eating disorders, there's so much guilt and shame that comes with this kind of mental illness to begin with and it can be a hard thing to admit to as well.

I will also share with you anon, that I've struggled with an ED for many years and was finally diagnosed with EDNOS in 2016. EDNOS stands for eating disorder not otherwise specified and you can receive that diagnosis for many reasons. I won't elaborate on my case in this post (I don't mind talking about it anymore so if ppl have questions you can ask), but anyway.... all this to say that I totally understand your struggle. And lately, I've been struggling to not fall back into those harmful ways after some comments my mom made a few weeks ago. It's been a tough few weeks for me for many reasons. But anyway, thank you so much again, for sending this request. Writing this is definitely going to be cathartic and therapeutic for me as well and I hope that it is for you too and anyone who struggles this way.

LAST THING! If you or anyone you know struggles with an eating disorder or shows concerning disordered eating patterns, please consider getting help. Some resources are linked HERE including helpline contact info.

And of course, the content below can be triggering for people who struggle with any E.D.

This was quite literally your dream come to life. You had been asked by Harry himself to join the Love Band in Ny-Oh's place for the final leg of Love On Tour. This all seemed insane and unreal as you thought about how you'd just met him around 2018. You'd been brought in as a session musician for Harry's last 2 albums and started a nice little friendship with him. But you didn't know that he considered you enough of a friend to ask you to join his live ensemble. Sure, you talked regularly enough and had graduated into hugs over fist bumps during the making of Harry's House, but still...it just seemed so insane. You were excited though, getting to see him perform every night knowing how hard he worked to make this music...it was like a full circle moment.

There'd been plenty you'd done in preparation for your travels. Including getting your measurements taken for the little love minion jumpsuits you'd be wearing every night. None of that really seemed to trigger you or your concerns over your weight and body image. You'd been doing so well, you'd been managing your eating disorder well the last few years without any major setbacks and you were proud that you were healthy enough to do this. Proud that you felt comfortable accepting this gig and knowing that you had the stamina and health to make it through the entire leg of the tour. It was huge! But none of that really seemed to matter when you got a look at your uniform hung up just a few inches away from you and felt this sudden rush of anxiety crawling through your body. Why did it look like it'd be so tight on you? The material obviously wasn't too stretchy so how was this supposed to fit on you? You weren't exactly sure what about the look of it suddenly had you feeling this way, but all you knew was that you didn't feel good about it.

The logical part of your brain reminded you that you got fitted for this - it was custom made to your measurements. And you tried to keep that in mind, but you soon realized that you had been fitted for this about four months ago. Maybe you'd gained tons of weight? Your days of obsessively weighing yourself were past you, so you had no idea if you had or hadn't. You had body dysmorphia so your mind wouldn't know the difference. And it was maddening to you that you had been feeling OK about yourself until you'd entered the little temporary changing room and saw the outfit on the hanger. Your heart started to beat a bit faster as your anxiety started to grow.

"30 minutes to show time!" you heard someone call as they walked down the corridor and then they shouted the same warning into the large dressing room a few of you shared and you just exhaled sharply and decided so just ignore this feeling and suck it up. If you didn't wear this what would you wear? You had no choice, you just had to get over it.

However, now that something about this outfit had triggered the obsessive and intrusive thoughts about your body image you started to feel uncomfortable looking at your reflection. You tried to avoid looking at yourself right now because you knew that you'd see things that weren't accurate. You tried to slow down your breathing as you turned away from the mirror in there and folded up your clothes before turning back around and looking at the outfit once again before taking it off the hanger. It felt suspenseful to undo all of the little buttons lining the seam to join the two sides together. But soon you were pulling it off the hanger and getting your legs into it and doing up the buttons, avoiding the mirror again until it was fully on so that you wouldn't freak out before you fully were dressed. Of course, you had no issues with getting it on, it felt just fine, a little loose if anything. But when you looked up the feeling of the fit didn't really matter. You had no idea if it was the cinched in waist that felt restrictive even if you had some wiggle room. Or maybe it was the way the fabric bulged a bit at your stomach and made you feel like you were carrying a lot more weight there than you realized before? But as you turned to the side to see how you looked from that angle your frown deepened as your fears rose tot he surface. It looked a little big on you and that somehow made you feel even worse because it wasn't like flattering/comfy baggy. This outfit somehow accentuated just how thin you actually were and then a new fear came into your brain: They're going to know I'm anorexic.

You felt that you did well enough to keep your eating disorder speculations at bay. People closest to you knew, but you were very private about it because like any illness, there is sometimes an element of shame involved. It wasn't something you advertised, especially as you recovered! But most people just knew you were into health and wellness, but they didn't know the dark side of it; that you struggled with obsessing over quantities and ingredients and portions because you were terrified to look bigger than you were, terrified to gain weight, terrified of feeling fat. You couldn't tell anyone why you felt that way, but you just did! And sure, you were a lot better now than you were years ago, but you had just been massively triggered that you looked sickly and that, that would arise suspicions of your health. The fans might start to say things and ask questions and if they noticed other people would too...the crew, the rest of the band...Harry...

As you stared at yourself for a bit more your eyes started to tear up and you silently fanned at your eyes to try and dissipate the tears, but your vision was only getting more and more blurry. You just needed some fresh air to calm down. You peeked out and saw that you were alone in the dressing room so you rushed out before anyone could stop you and you headed out back behind the stage. They were in the middle of changing the setup after the openers so the crew and roadies were closer to the structure helping change things out and unloading. You had the space and privacy to pace around and let your tears fall. But the audience was so loud...there would be so many people and they would look at you and see you in this outfit and just know that something was wrong with you. Obviously they would be scrutinizing you since you were the new person! And suddenly everything just built up inside of you and you started to panic.

You found a place to sit down when you felt your breathing catch in your throat. This couldn't be happening.... you were just minutes before the show! But you were hyperventilating now as your tears cascaded down your cheeks. You felt like you were going to crumble apart. This was a huge mistake... you should've said no...you weren't ready for this. There was no way you could do this. You were sat off to the side as you sobbed and tried everything you could to calm down and get through this panic attack so you didn't notice Harry's car pulling up across from you until you heard the stadium cheering loudly and when you glanced up you saw Harry wave quickly before he headed backstage. You didn't want anyone to see you like this so you stood up and went to hide behind one of the trailers, but you didn't notice that he'd seen you rush off.

********

"Y/N!" Harry called after you but you didn't seem to hear him and he frowned a bit. He could've sworn you were crying...maybe you just got really nervous or maybe it just hit you now that you were on tour. It could be exciting but nerve-racking. So he decided to just check on you and maybe give you a little pep-talk. "Hey, I'll be right in, just gonna make sure she's OK." Harry said to Tommy and Brad.

"I've got it, H. You should really go get changed. You're on in 15." Tommy advised.

"It'll be quick. I'm sure she's just a little nervous." Harry said and they sighed as he jogged off to where you'd taken off. When he rounded the corner to where the trailers were he immediately frowned when he saw you gasping for air, choking on your tears as you sobbed uncontrollably. "Y/N, oh my god." he said as he hurried over to you.

You felt mortified as he rushed up to you and reached for your hands. You started to cry harder because this was so fucked up. You felt so stupid and ridiculous for crying over an outfit, but you just felt so awful. Worse than you had in a long time and it was scary to be triggered so intensely. When he wrapped you up in a big hug you started to calm down. His voice and touch and scent helped to ground you a bit, enough to help you breathe properly.

"What's the matter?" he asked you softly as you continued crying. You cough as you tried to answer him and he gently rubbed your back to help you out a bit.

"S'fine. I'm fine." you choked out and he sighed.

"How can I help if I don't know what the issue is?" he asked you and you sighed.

"You can't help Harry, this is me. This all me and I...I don't think I can do the show." you finally said and he pulled back with a big frown as he looked at you. You couldn't bear to see his disappointment for more than a second before you looked back at the ground.

"What do you mean? Are you nervous?" he asked you as he rubbed at your arms with his ring clad hands and you sighed.

"I-it's the outfit. I can't wear this outfit. Like...I'm not...able to wear this." you said to him and he looked a bit confused.

"Is something wrong with it?"

"Yes! I...don't know w-what it is..." you gasped through your sobs, "But I just...don't like how I look or feel in it." you explained.

"Love, you look great!" he said with a small smile and that made you feel worse because it was a testament to just how insane you actually were, "And well, I'm not really sure we can change the uniform at this point-"

"Exactly, this is my issue! So I can't go up there." you cried.

"Well what's the issue you're having? Maybe there's something we can do about it right now?" he asked and you bit your lip for a moment before looking into his eyes and then just turning your gaze away from him. You couldn't bear to see his face when you said this to him.

"I...I have an eating disorder." you said softly through your tears, "And something about this outfit has triggered me into this psychotic episode. I feel...really awful physically and in my head too...and I'm trying... I'm trying to get it together but I haven't felt like this in years and just one look at me in this and everyone's gonna know something's wrong with me because I look sick!" you sobbed, "And that's why I can't do this. I'm so sorry, Harry. I just can't do the show." you blubbered and his hands slid down your arms and grabbed your hands.

"I'm so sorry." he said softly and you sighed.

"It's not your fault...how were you supposed to know that this would trigger me? I didn't even know until I was staring at the fucking thing." you shook your head as you looked up at him again and he sighed.

"I mean, yeah but like I... I noticed stuff before, like when we first met that made me wonder if...maybe you were anorexic or struggled with something like this. So I'm sorry that I never checked on you." he said and you sighed.

"Well, it't not really something I like to talk about." you explained through a sniffle, "And I've been doing really well the last couple years, I swear I'm like eating regularly and stuff. I wouldn't have agreed to do this if I wasn't well enough to do it." you said quickly, "But something happened back there and for my own wellbeing I just feel like I can't go out there like this." you explained through your tears. "Like...at first I thought I looked fat or maybe the cinching made me feel really restricted....but like I had this...moment where when I looked at myself f-from the side I just...looked like a fucking Tim Burton character...." you chuckled through your tears, "and I just...know that people will notice that I'm anorexic. And the audience is gonna see and start saying things about me... and things are just going to get worse and I'm gonna lose control again! And I don't want to lose control again. I can't lose control again." you vented through your tears and he just listened attentively with a slight frown. When he saw you were finished he squeezed your hands gently.

"I get that. And I also want you to be healthy and feel healthy and to feel good about yourself." he assured you, "You being safe and healthy and happy, that's all I want for you! But you're also a fucking brilliant musician and friend and I don't want to do this without you." he said to you and you sniffled, "I'm willing to figure something out to make sure that you feel comfortable and confident enough to perform if you want. We can get with Harry real quick and see what we can come up with." he suggested.

"The show starts in a little bit...it's fine. We can work on it tomorrow. I can perform from backstage today or even just sit this one out." you said and he scoffed through a laugh.

"I'm not gonna make you perform from backstage! We're just gonna run a bit late, that's fine." he said to you and you shook your head.

"Seriously H, I don't mind it a-"

"Seriously, Y/N." He cut you off, "I don't want to hide any member of my team, ever. I want to work with you to figure this out, OK? You mean a lot to me, and having you up there with me and Mitch, like that's so huge! You've been there for a lot of the work on these songs...you brought my vision to life in the studio and now you're here, getting to see it play out! And you do not have my permission to experience this magnificent and magical moment for the first time from behind the stage, all alone. There's no fucking way." he said and you chuckled softly through your tears as he squeezed your hands reassuringly again. "You deserve this. Let's figure this out." he offered again and you sniffled and nodded.

"OK." you agreed softly and he smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." you sniffled and smiled at him before he hugged you tight and you relaxed in his embrace.

"Perfect. Just gonna hold you for a bit, OK?" he said and you just hummed.

Your eating disorder had robbed you of tons of incredible experiences in your life. Either because you weren't well enough to show up or because you felt ashamed...but the buck stopped here. Not anymore. Harry was right, you deserved this and you wanted this, so you were gonna do it with his help and other Harry's help. After a few moments he let go of you and pulled back to wipe away the slightly smeared makeup beneath your eyes.

"If you don't mind not saying anything to Harry about why I-"

"Of course not." He said right away.

"Do you think the band'll mind that I might not be in the uniform?"

"I doubt it, but if someone has any issues I'll take care of it, OK?" he assured you and you nodded.

"Thank you, H."

"Course, love." He smiled kindly, "And I know that for now we might scramble a bit but what if we get you a tour shirt or sweater to wear on top and you can just tie the jumpsuit sleeves around you or something so that you just have the pants on?" he suggested.

"Yeah, I think that's good. I can't very well go out in my spandex shorts, that’s what I came in." you giggled and he chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry not happening. This is kind of about me so...." he joked and you laughed softly, "There she is." he said, his thumb swiped over your smile line for a moment before he pulled it away, "Sorry." he said softly.

"It's alright." you assured him and he smiled.

"Let's get this figured out then." he said and you nodded and headed back.

Of course, Harry had been right about not wanting you to miss the first show because you were hiding backstage. It had been one the best experiences of your life so far. The crowd were so loud and happy to be there. Hearing everyone sing the songs with you all, specially getting to sing Matilda and seeing how much it meant to everyone was amazing. It had been absolutely magical, you had even teared up. And when Harry spared you a glance at the end of the song and saw you wiping a tear he shot you a thumbs up and you returned the gesture. You guys started to wave at the fans at the barricade as you headed back to the main stage. You felt someone come up behind you and then Harry's arm draped over your shoulder.

"Alright, love?" he asked against your ear.

"Yeah, you were right though." you said to him, "I'm glad I'm not stuck in the back and missing this." you smiled up at him and he smiled.

"Me too." he assured you.

Of course, hundreds of fans had recorded this little interaction between the two of you and the only thing that people were obsessing over was how protective and soft Harry seemed to be with you and in turn it made the fans even more gentle towards you during the next shows. With each show the cheering for your introduction grew louder. By now you had talked to the other Harry and the band about what you were struggling with and they were all so kind and supportive. And now, each night when you were introduced you had that incredible support from the audience as well. No one was paying attention to your flaws or your issues or your body, they were just showing you the love and acceptance that you so often failed to give to yourself. Being built up that way gave you a new motivation to stay on track, to take care of yourself, and to keep getting better.

[busycloudy]

OMGGG HAPPY ONE HUNFRED FOLLOWERS!??!?!?!?!!!!

Sooo, for your event... I'm feeling in a devious mood at the moment,, and i have decided... to do some tomfoolery >:D *evil laughter noises*

I have begun to start a collection of silly ideas, and it is a little series between us!! To start it off, would you be willing to do Savannaclaw with a feline! mc? <3

Also, here's a flower to congratulate your journey! 🌺

Ty for the flower! And yeah,100 followers! Hard to believe am I right!? Hope you enjoy this lil' thing!

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER BTW PLEASE FORGIVE ME I HAD 0 INSPO(doesn't even seem like it's part if my 100 follower event now lol)

Savannaclaw With a Feline!MC

 • TW: None 

• Fluff + crack fanfic per usual 

• MC is gender neutral  

• Enjoy!

Leona Kingscholar

Your independence is so aggravating to him(affectionately<3). Like, just let him help?!?! One time you got in a fight with some other Savannaclaw students, and he INSISTED on helping, but you refused and fought them by yourself. He had to take you to the infirmary that day, but the students were much more injured. You like cuddles? that's purr-fect(I'm so funny)because he LOVES having you as his pillow! Sometimes you'll just see him in the botanical garden and nap with him. Or if you see him in the hallways you'll just wrap your arms around him. He teases you for being so clingy, but he loves this so much. ALSO he sometimes scratches behind your ear because your purring is so adorable and he needs to hear it at least once.

Ruggie Bucchi

If you wanna be independent, you do you boo, now if it's something that you so obviously need help with but don't wanna admit it, he might help you. I feel like he's also a cuddly person(don't know why🤷‍♀️), so when you hug him after a long day a smile is instantly put on his face. When you try to pepper his face with kisses, he might just cup your face and give you a kiss on the lips instead. When you're walking around in the hallway and hear something fall near you, it's probably him. This man has tripped over your tail so much, and although most of the time it's on accident, sometimes you do it on purpose just to catch him and see him flustered.

Jack Howl

He does not CARE how much times you insist you don't need help, he is going to help you. In a fight? He either helps you or drags you away. You are going to get help with things like that whether you like it or not. He's not very used to your affection and when you randomly just come behind him in the hallways and hug him, but he isn't complaining. He might give you a kiss on the forehead in return. I think at first y'all HATED eachother (Y'know cat and dog kinda thing), but it was kinda became an enemies to lovers thing. Finds it a bit interesting when your ears twitches in your sleep(Do you know what im talking ab?). He'll ask you what you were dreaming about in the morning.

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WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG???Ahem, anyways, thank you @nico707 for sharing how you think a feline!MC would be like

And thank you @minty-bubblegum for the flower! This journey has been a long one, but a fun(ny) one also

[dailymothanon]

THE ALASKAN DREAM CONSISTS OF HUGE FUCKING FISH ‼️ I don’t know if y’all in the Lower 48 also learn about fish in your schools, especially salmon (and yes in Alaska we do indeed say salmon like ‘samen’, salmon without the L cuz we’re always winning no we’re not), I had to learn atleast like two weeks worth of school of purely salmon and watching salmon documentaries and dissecting salmon cuz of how important they are to Alaska 😭 (I didn’t mind tho cuz I love learning about Alaska) (also, a really long rant below, I don’t expect y’all to read all or any of it— it’s not a sad or deep rant, just like a long letter of appreciation for you guys)

Btw I’m sorry I couldn’t do more this post :( my heads been a little preoccupied with some struggles so I couldn’t focus on drawing much else, also I just simply hit a creative stump is all as well, I have considered talking a little deep about me (or technically, my life a little bit) for y’all, I dunno why, maybe it’s simply the fact most people I’ve talked to within this fandom n such has simply just been so nice and relaxing (although, I’m aware I don’t interact that much or consistently) sometimes I really like deep conversation as well, or just spouting random facts and ideas I have, it’s nice, especially if there’s people that atleast somewhat get my rambles— but I suppose this is a thank you, to be honest, because I love that you guys like my work and sometimes even use them or build off of them, even if I think the idea I had was a bad idea (Punk Ny for example was an idea I was worried about not being a good one), most of the time I don’t edit them out because I think maybe one person out there might like it and want me to keep it there, like my girlfriend who encourages my ideas or helps me shape them, I never had this type of interaction and it makes me so giddy at times, so I really appreciate it :)

Also, I know I’m not obligated to draw so much with each post (maybe I’ll talk about how long my process is and what I do for most posts) but sometimes I feel like I owe you guys it because a lot of you are very respectful, and a lot of states do not have the amount of content that one who is passionate about would want, I mean, that’s why I joined this place and immediately started drawing Alaska like a mad man since there wasn’t much content about him (especially specifically about him), im passionate about my state, I yearn to know as much as I can and see how others think of it and us, I wanna do the same for other states but I worry that I don’t feel the same amount of passion for them as I do Alaska and I know that’s fine, but I still feel bad about it because I think I can do better for you guys, Indiana and Arizona and North Dakota for example I feel I can do more, even if you guys are content with what I came up with, but it’s very relieving to hear the expectations were not unreachable like I expected you guys to be about them, and I’m glad you guys aren’t critical about the fact I’m very inconsistent with Alaskas design because I’m not quite sure what I want for him and how much his design feels like him so I’m still trying always

anyways, have a good day or night yall <3 much of you guys are simply so so nice. Err, idk how I feel about this rant cuz I don’t wanna waste y’all’s times because I know you’re here for the states, so I might delete it depending on how I feel later about it

[mxmajor]

Didn't you tell me to be the guy? "I didn't tell you to be an asshole."- Uncle Jimmy

And for Carmy, those are one in the same. And because the show has been so tight on his perspective as the protag, many viewers have joined on the perspective of seeing everyone but Carmy as an asshole even when they aren't (except NY Chef/David Fields, fuck that guy).

In previous seasons we see more of Carmy's interiority (his memories, his ideas, his intrusive thoughts, his vulnerable moments at the thing), but marginally, we are made aware of how his behavior is impacting those around him.

in season 3 , we get a nice long introspective opener in 3x01 that visually lays out the experiences, memories, and thought process carmy's attempting to synthesize into success to overcorrect after friends and family.

He also does all of this alone.

In the following episodes we see more of the real time misunderstandings and failed efforts to establish and reinforce bonds with ppl not immediately in carmy's kin circle.

At first glance, the faks are doing a lot screentime wise, but I think their presence and the window guys, and even Tina's story highlight the lack of reliability that could happen in Carmy's perspective in addition to how spot on he is abt what is fucked up around the beef/berzatto family.

They show us an affection, and familiarity, and warmth with each other in their sophomoric antics and bonds with each other. All of it looks unprofessional and silly, esp when richie is trying to do so many random things not to thwart Carmy but save some of the atmosphere that makes people want to be there. But we see that ppl in other BOH kitchens have that, which Richie knowss. Cause he's experienced it at the Beef and Ever, even if not all the time with the berzatto siblings.

But I feel vindicated abt the old posts I made abt Carmy being an asshole, not because I think he's bad or I want to see him fail, but because I think he can eventually be aware of himself in a positive way and maybe be better in season 4. but he has to own his shit.

Carmy's genius and youngest child syndrome can passively slide him into a role where he is just accepted as complicated and misunderstood. Carmy is Carmy, no one tells him no really. Syd and Richie are the ones that give him the most pushback (which he desperately needs to listen to). But he got nearly a million dollars to do as he wanted off of love and guilt.

he goes inside himself to figure things out, and waits to be noticed dand interpreted but does not assertive in way that helps him engage. He doesn't see clearly that the success, magic, and joy is in the shared experience (with his siblings, coworkers, supervisor, dating) because he has been in that odd man out role and believes he doesn't belong.

So many people think this is his dream and passion but he literally never says that. Most of his relationships happens through projections he doesn't really clear up because he is so focused on the negative projects he assumes ppl will know about him because of his family and past.

He also tends to make things about himself that are not about him. When it is his familiars, it explodes into something, When it is Sydney or the computer it deflates and gets redirected because no one is coming for him like he anxiously/insecurely believes they are.

Carmy: Is that a shot? Computer: I don't understand. Carmy: Are you giving me shit for not calling people back? Ep. 5, Children, 23:33

Why the hell would the Computer (who is a great organizational professional, i need to look into credentialing like his) take time in a serious meeting to take a dig at Carmy????

Sometimes it seems like he only has genuine convos with Syd & Marcus but I think that is because he sees/projects parts of his chef self in them. Moreso Marcus now than Syd, he doesn't want them to experience and make the same mistakes.

I wish he would have asked the chef's he worked under for advice (on camera, in script) but you know, Carmy does not talk, and we wouldn't have a show if he did everything right all of the time.

I think NY chef just eating "the yeah I did the fucked up stuff on purpose, you're welcome" turned everything on its side in Carmy's brain. But I also think he took that exchange well in comparison to his spirals in the past two season finales.

all the core islands and structures in his head he built and rebuilt around being a successful chef topple. Sitting with all of those actual chefs and listening to them are their kitchen experiences foils his belief that people only gain success through being assholes.

SN: Uncle Jimmy, how is Carmy supposed to know what being the man looks like in a non-asshole way if he never got to work with his brother and didn't have consistent male figures growing up? But also, nobody knows how fcked up NY Chef is outside of the industry so how would cicero know either.

Carmy needs to socialize outside of his immediate family that he grew up around. And actually fucking talk to people. Not just stare and say very heavy one liners related to his inner monologue that are narrowly connected to the present topic.

heeey @currymanganese here is a post with initial thoughtsss

[gatoraid]

親愛なるジーンへ (Dear Gene) by Azuma Kaya

I’m looking back on some of the most memorable BL manga I read in 2023 and copying/ expanding on some of my twitter threads about them to tumblr.

Dear Gene is a spinoff of the pretty well-known Amish themed BL manga The Scene of My Rumpspringa (ラムスプリングの情景) by Azuma Kaya. I know Amish BL might sound like a silly joke, but the series actually treats the subject very thoughtfully.

In Rumspringa we followed a young Amish man exploring the world beyond his community in the 80s. In Dear Gene, we follow another man from the same community, who ended up leaving his family and community for good in the 70s. All the things that made Rumspringa so memorable are present in Dear Gene as well: the nostalgic atmosphere, bittersweet emotions, lively characters and gorgeous art & storytelling.

I really like the story within a story structure: in the 90s, teenager Gene Edwards is sent to spend the summer at his uncle Trevor’s place in NY to help with chores. While cleaning up a room that has not been used in years, Gene accidentally stumbles upon an old diary that records Trevor’s romance with a guy who was also called Gene almost 20 years ago.

Most of the manga follows Trevor and Gene Walker’s story in the 70s, as recorded in the diary. Gene grew up as an Amish in Pennsylvania but decided to leave the community to look for his own place in the world. When he first meets Trevor, he is homeless and has nowehere to go. Trevor, who's a lawyer at the office where Gene works as a janitor, takes him in and slowly they fall in love.

Since we are following the story from an outsider’s perspective, we already know from the start that Gene W is no longer in Trevor’s life in the 90s. Thinking about what might have happened, already feeling sad and bittersweet about this while seeing the characters get together, and then gradually learning the truth about what happened all those years ago make it a very emotional reading experience that is well worth revisiting.

Spoilers after the cut!

I think what really makes Dear Gene stand out is the way it treats the characters' individual journeys. It's very much a romance story, but the characters' family relationships and personal goals are just as important, if not more so, than the romantic relationship between Trevor and Gene.

That's why their inevitable separation is so impactful. There is no big drama or tragic events, just the simple notion that one person cannot be your whole world, that even though you love someone, your other dreams and goals in life might take you far away from them. And that when you love someone, sometimes the biggest act of love can be letting them go so they can fulfill their whole potential.

The beautiful themes and emotions are enhanced by the vivid recurring imagery: plants in different states of growth, the window view from Gene’s room, the scenes from Gene W and Trevor’s childhood, especially the scenes where older Gene is set inside his memories, looking at the younger versions of himself.

And the scene where Trevor, who was abandoned and adopted as a baby, is shown to sit in the shadows while the rest of his family is bathing in light, showing the disconnect he’s felt even from the people who truly love him… Definitely one of the most powerful parts of the story for me.

Even now, thinking about the characters is making me emotional all over again....

There's Trevor, who has estranged himself from his family even though they love and support him, who desperately tries to show his own love by giving and buying people things and is afraid of pursuing his own happiness.

There's Gene Walker, whose hunger for knowledge and life drove him away from his family and community, who still hasn’t forgiven himself for that and who is still looking for something to believe in and belong to, yet doesn’t want those things chain him in one place.

Then there's Gene Edwards, the cheeky teen who cannot stop reading his strange uncle’s very personal diary, because he’s been trying to figure out his own sexuality and finds something that feels familiar on those pages. I really would have wanted to see more of his story! Maybe there's still room for one more spin-off in the series?

And finally there's Karen, romance novelist and Trevor’s ex-fiancee who becomes a great friend to both Genes and who definitely deserves her spot in the ’amazing women in BL stories’ hall of fame. Cannot stress how much I love her.

Even though I really wish the story would have been a little longer and the ending didn’t make me ugly cry the way Rumspringa did, Dear Gene is still a very beautiful and thematically rich story.

This whole manga series handles topics like family, belonging, growing up and becoming your own person in a very poignant way. Romance and sex are very important to the story (Azuma Kaya draws ero scenes so beautifully I'll never get over it), but they are not the only thing that is important in the storyline or the characters' lives. Azuma Kaya is definitely one of those creators who are showing just how versatile BL manga can be, and how many types of stories can be told through BL!

Dear Gene has not been officially licensed in eng yet. The jp version is available on all major Japanese bookstore and ebook sites, I personally read it on ebookjapan. The eng version of The Scene of My Rumspringa can be read on Bookwalker, Inkr and Comikey.

PS I totally recommend buying the special edition for Dear Gene vol 2 because it comes with a lovely 20 page bonus comic where Gene E comes to visit his uncle for Christmas and we get to meet all the characters one more time!

[tadcccallmyocs]

Hello, how can I help you?

[new year update, see the notes below]

so yeah I made an ask ocs blog, mainly for these four.

Coiom is gonna answer anything the other two can't respond, he is the new punching bag of the group, he is still in denial and believe he is in a dream, and ask Caine for something not adventure related to do... So the ringmaster put him to answer any questions in the call center.

Harley is only answer questions about her life and her mothers, she has activated a child filter, so she doesn't listen any rude or un-family friendly questions.

Storky is gonna respond to any head Canon I have of the digital circus and the child spawn system (css) she is a little flirty and motherly like.

Tether same as Harley but with Zooble x Gangle questions.

Martin he is here... Don't be mean with him he is just trying his best, you can ask him questions in Spanish too.

Cathin sassy responses, and she insults any that not take her seriously, she sometimes is willing to respond correctly.

Reblog is appreciated 😊

not gonna answer;

Inappropriate questions will make me block you instantly.

Gimmick of the blog;

Is a call center, so no items will be send to the members of the call center.

It will be good if you're questions have an introduction like said hi, and then said your question, is a call to being with.

I not gonna draw every question, I don't have a PC sadly.

you have to be patient and wait for the response.

[NY Update]

New Gimmick's;

If the user is not an anon, and made a comment in relation with the original question, you will get a response from the member/s the was in the call, is only one response and the call will end afterward.

And the digital spawn object is now online.

Feature tadc member's

Every two weeks a member of the cast of the circus will come to answer some questions, they are not forced to do this in any way 🙂.

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: Joel Miller- Huh

You had a staring probelm. Let's be honest the boston QZ sucked ass, and you could only re read your books so many times. Sure you had a few favorite things to do like knitting but even that costed you something.

Staring didn't cost a damn thing espcially when it was someone you were living with. Joel and you had grown 'close' together. A friends with benefits, but that not type of benefits. You weren't much older then the whole world going to shit, barely being in your late teens when everything. Joel was the grumpy old, sexy man that you had made a deal with to live in his apartment.

Sure you shared a bed, but nothing ever was taken anywhere. You guys laid back to back as you dreamt of dirty dreams that involved Joel and his strong dirty hands. The veins that popped out while he was in the middle something and someone just had to piss him off.

You mentally took note of every time you got a chance to see his hands in action.

After one time when you and Joel had gotten a shit ton of ration cards it was hard to put them all together. Or simply decide what the fuck you guys were going to do with them. "Give me the damn ration cards you've got. I'mma sort them darlin’" Joel spoke his voice raspy and rough that sent my knees curling and my heart racing. You got up quickly pulling them from my bra. Joel gave me an unsual look then took the card from my hands.

His hands and fingrs tips were so rough that it was fucking crime. So delicous that you wished that you would take his hand and drag his fingers into my mouth. You walked with a sway in ny hips back towards the uncomfortable couch. Grabbing a book you’d read a thousand times already.

Mumbling to himself you looked over the edge of the paper back and at his hands. Licking the flat edge of his thumb to grab better onto the worn out ration cards . "Fucking damn." He mumbled to himself. "How many we got Joel?" You asked, you looked up from my book pretending to be reading was harder then it sounded. "Ninety at least." He said sounding almost happy about it.

With said ration cards we were able to get some medical supplies, and food. Better food then we were both used to having around the tiny apartment.

"Spare food for right now darlin’”Joels texan drawl came out. Your chest clunched at his words. "Do you plan on making something speical?" You asked tip toeing around asking him to make something from his past. Joel is a calloused man, and it's hard enough sometimes.

"Yeah, though I wouldn't dare to call it speical. Just something that my Ma use to make during the cold months.” Being in boston meant it was almost always cold and the sense that it was something delicous like soup came into mind, but you didn't push the subject any further.

The sky darken and the smell inside the aparment made my mind melt. You watched him once again from the edge of the counter. You watched his hands as he dealt with the knife with expertise. The way his fingers and hands flexed to give way for his knife to cut through the food. "Is that supposed to be soup you're makin'?" You asked him, he smiled. "My Ma's speical winter soup." Was all Joel said, not that the conversation was the reason for why you were sitting there watching him with intent.

Weeks later, weeks of staring and not yet getting caught. Joel came in late to the apartment shaking me awake with the slamming of the apartment door. Grunting and hard boots that hit the floor with no grace at all. Like you said a calloused man Joel is. The bed shifted under his weight as he unlaced his boots.

Joels weight gave me way to shift without him noticing to much. When Joel first landed this apartment you excepted to never see another unbroken mirror, but at last. This apartment in the small bedroom had a stand up mirror. A small crack that made the glass break into two halfs and nothing more.

You kept my eyes shut, and felt the weight disappear from the bed. Then the shuffle of clothes fall to the floor. You peaked my eyes open. Joel was facing his back to you, but the mirror gave you a perfect view of him. A shirt was being thrown down to the floor, a quick glance to Joel back. Strong ovibously by probably soft to the touch. You internalized your moan of sexual frustration. When you looked once more into the mirror as you heard the sounds of his belt undo, and then it hitting the floor.

This time… this time you had been caught. Dangerously caught by dark brown eyes. "What are you doin, darl'?" You closed your eyes tightly. "I saw you missy you just can't pretend you didn't watch me… just like you can't pretend you haven't been eyeing me like a pervert." Joel mumured into the darkness. You licked my lips at the thought of Joel, his words, his thick muscular back.

"Answer me. I know you can hear me you pretty little thing." Joels voice starting to louder. That night you had gone to sleep underneath the sheets with nothing but your shirt and panites on.

Before Joel had come home you had been dreaming about him, and his fingers. Your panties were already wet, and now that Joel was standing over you they were only growing more wet. "Y/n, answer me." He demands. "Yes you've caught me Joel." You said simply.

"How long have you been watching me princess?" Joel asks demanding an answer from you. "For…" "For how long…" "Since we moved here… together I mean…" You finally answered him. There's a loud grunt and a whip of sheets coming off my body. The air is cold that hits my now uncovered legs. Your moan involentary.

He groans. "Are you?" He ask staring down at my bare thighs, clenching them together. Your thought just meld together, thought of Joel and nothing else. "Are you… wet right now?" He teases you.

A rough, warm hand landing on your thigh. Your breath pauses for the first time, your eyes go wide and it's just Joel and you . He's smirking like he knows exactly what he's doing. "You haven't answered me but I can only assume that your soaked through those panties of yours hmm Y/n." His fingers strech down and when they hit the old mesh panties.

"Oh yeah you are aren't you… don't worry princess I'll fix that for you." Joel reassures you. He moves streching your legs open and in sight is your panites with a wet spot growing. He lightly plays with your covered clit the sticky mess covering his fingers.

"Fuck so fucking wet… maybe… oh maybe darling I should just shove two of my finger deep in and you fuck yourself on my fingers." Your eyes rolls into the back of your head, and the moans that fall from your lips is delicous to Joels ears.

Whispering quietly into your ear. Rough voice and chapped lips, "You'd like that wouldn't you darling?" You nod unable to do anything else as he slide your panties to the slide and plunges one finger in without giving a single warning.

Completed on: 06/08/23

Posted on: 08/10/23

TLOU-

[herlockslimbo]

sometimes i think about rui kamishiro a little too hard and absolutely die inside because some of the shit he says casually is so ???

for example, sometimes he just has these throwaway menu lines that make me fucking ill

like the april fools mikudemy menu line where he says he never thought he’d see the day where he felt comfortable and happy at school

or his ny 2020 menu line where he says that this year has been so joyful, but also very emotional for him. (this was the year the game started running so he’s likely referring to joining wxs)

nene’s line, but her saying that rui has always been reluctant to celebrate his birthday because he knew nobody but nene would come… rui and his birthday in general make me fucking sad. like his one wish for his birthday was to have a normal party with his friends because he’d never had one before. what the hell. ughhhh his bday card story is soooo,,, he’s so happy to have friends who support him and care for him now🥲🥲🥲

sorry i’m just spiraling now but also ruis got this reoccurring habit of calling himself childish or cowardly when he gets too emotional about stuff. just for a few examples in cheer squad during both the conversations he had with kaito and luka he says he feels like he’s a coward cause he just can’t overcome his fears of people rejecting him. then in curtain call he says he’s acting like a child when he doesn’t want to “let go” of wxs… somebody PLEASE tell him he’s allowed to feel this way. and let’s not even start on him calling himself selfish every time he talks about not wanting wxs to fall apart. my guy. you found people you belong with. it’s not selfish to want that to stay.

also speaking of the too emotional thing, did y’all read his admidst a dream card story??? JESUS CHRIST. basically what happens is it’s late at night and he’s trying to work, but he can’t focus because he can’t stop thinking about the fact that the day wxs will have to disband is drawing closer. so to distract himself he goes to sekai in hopes of talking to kaito, but everyone’s asleep, except for meiko and luka because luka slept through the entire day and meikos keeping her company lol. rui then says he doesn’t really want to get into why he came here because it’s his own personal thing to sort out, and he just wants someone to talk about SOMETHING to right now. but then he ends up trailing into pretty much just?? ranting about his feelings. he says he hates that even though humans have the ability to use logic and reasoning, our emotions still get the better of us and we can’t control them perfectly. then he says that sometimes emotions get too much and it takes everything you can to hold them in and stop them from overflowing (WHICH IS??). then he adds on the last, horrifying part, where he says he wishes someone could just take his mind and handle his emotions for him, because right now everything is such a mess. eventually meiko and luka manage to get him out of this stream of conscious by talking to him about kaito, and rui thanks them for their help and promises he won’t do anything irresponsible, like just throwing these emotions to the side, and he goes home. LIKE I SAID. ITS FUCKED. was so expecting bumper cars and then i got hit by a BRICK.

alright i’m done now i just needed to get that out of my system