#terminals do really only talk to machines

[mipexch]

been thinking about something wicked a little too much lately. no harm in romanticizing the ominous dreadful unstoppable force

[legallypumpkinn]

One of my favorite parts of the argument against AI is how little most everybody arguing against artificial intelligence actually knows what the fuck they’re on about.

Artificial intelligence on its own contributes a SHITTON to your daily life online. What is today considered “artificial intelligence” versus what artificial intelligence started off as (being a way to use machines to make scripts more efficient) are two tenuously connected concepts. Does your phone occasionally autocorrect when it thinks you’ve spelled shit wrong, until it eventually gives up because you keep using the “misspelling”? Do you like when your social media feed shows you posts by people you don’t follow? That’s, arguably, AI - the machine is seeing patterns in behavior, so, to save both the user and the machine time, it makes this pattern easier to access, rather than the user having to take possible minutes to search for what they wanted rather than it simply showing up first thing.

AI is not inherently evil, in the same way as knives are not inherently evil. What is evil is when people take shit to input into their scripts or whatever that is not theirs and then essentially clone said stolen artifact with dna from a multitude of other stolen artifacts and then pass it off as their own work. But that is NOT what the majority of machine learning is, and demonizing people who are using this learning to be more efficient (without taking shit that isn’t theirs!!) are not the people we should be fighting.

In case you're still reflexively on the fence when I proclaim that the conversation about AI has progressed to a truly batshit level of reactionary mythology, people on twitter are currently calling out the animators for Spiderverse for using a digital interpolator to assist with lining, because a documentary used the term "machine learning" to describe it.

Apparently using digital tools is taking work away from real artists. I am excited for 6 months time when the discourse has evolved into "all movies should be hand-inked on the inside of Palaeolithic caves to escape the corrupting labour-stealing influence of the pencil".

(Yes this is currently a minority opinion in this instance, largely because people just really like Spiderverse. But the fact that these arguments are being seriously made shows how far off the deep end this conversation has gone. These types of arguments for blanket technology bans already made little to no sense due to the double standard applied, and this demonstrates that by removing the double standard and taking them closer to their logical conclusion - all labour saving tools are bad, especially if they involve a spooky computer algorithm).

[moonstruckme]

Apple pie with spencer read and qn airport terminal qt midnight

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of bad eating habits, mentioned unease around germs

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 729 words

“Spence.” Your voice is soft, your fingers combing through his hair even softer. Spencer’s head rests heavy on your shoulder. You shield his eyes from the harsh lights with a hand, hoping to rouse him gently. “Honey, wake up.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow. Or, one does, the other already squished towards furrowing by the way it’s laying on your shoulder. You hate to wake him—Spencer tends to have a hard time relaxing at airports, what with all the germs—but your window to get something to eat is closing. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask him, coaxing. 

“No,” he mumbles, but he’s blinking awake, looking up at you with soft, sleepy brown eyes. “Are you?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “A little. Sorry, do you mind if I get up to go look for something? Everything’s closing.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I almost made you miss dinner.” Spencer sits up, stretching his neck. He pushes his shoulders back lazily, and you can hear his bones crackle. “I’ll go with you.”  

You protest half-heartedly but ultimately capitulate, picking up the heavy backpack before he can and leaving your boyfriend to tow the suitcase. At this time the airport is near empty, the only people to be seen the sad band of vagabonds sitting at your gate waiting for your plane to arrive. You’ve been delayed two hours by the weather. Spencer will have to wake up four hours from when you get home to go to work, you only a half hour later.

You realize as you walk that you may be too late. While the websites you’d checked had said their airport locations would be open until midnight, the employees are already cleaning out machines, wiping down counters, pulling metal gates closed over their entrances. 

Spencer makes a worried oh sound, realizing the same thing.

“There’s an Auntie Anne’s down there,” you say hopefully, starting to walk faster in case they’re closing, too. That glowing yellow sign is your light at the end of the tunnel.

Spencer speeds up with you, but protests, “A pretzel isn’t a meal, sweetheart.” 

“It might be my only option,” you point out. “Also, I saw you eat a bag of salt and vinegar chips for dinner last week. You don’t get to talk.” 

You hear a soft, slightly petulant huff behind you. You might give him shit for it if you weren’t in a rush. 

You try to order as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for making the employee serve you just before close. But then the cup is in your hand, warm and smelling of cinnamon, and you think you probably would have vaulted the counter to get it yourself had she refused you. It’s heavenly. 

You wait until you get back to the gate to start eating, wanting to savor every bite. When you do, you have to close your eyes, forcibly smothering a moan. They’re everything you wanted and more. You shovel them into your mouth faster than is probably safe and definitely faster than anyone’s mother would approve of, and it’s not until you’re more than halfway done that you notice Spencer’s stare.

You give him a wry look. “So now you’re hungry?” 

“What?” He looks startled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically drooling.” 

“No, I’m not,” he says, though you notice him tighten his lips as though checking to be sure. 

You sigh, holding them out to him. “It’s okay. Have some.” 

“No.” Spencer frowns with his eyebrows. “They’re yours.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you say, more genuinely this time. “I’d hate for you to miss out. They’re really good.” 

He can only resist temptation for so long. He takes one, and his reaction is nearly the same as yours had been, expression going soft at the perfect, delicious warmth of them. 

“In exchange,” you suggest as he reaches for more, “can I take a turn napping on your shoulder for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course,” says Spencer, managing to sound smitten even though a mouthful of cinnamon pretzel bites. He settles back in his chair, trying to give you as comfortable a pillow as possible. 

“Thanks.” You sigh through your nose as you lay your head down, pulling your legs up onto the chair with you and closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we have to go to work tomorrow morning.” 

“This morning,” Spencer corrects you. 

You groan. 

[commodorez]

Cactus fascinates me, does it run on code similar to an existing instruction set or is it completely original on that front?

What can you do with it? What's it's storage?

Both the Cactus (the original wooden prototype from years ago) and the new PCB Cactus(es) are essentially derived from a minimal 6502 computer design by Grant Searle for their core logic. Here's what that would look like on a breadboard:

There isn't much to it, it's 32K of RAM, 16K of ROM containing Ohio Scientific's version of Microsoft BASIC, a 6850 ACIA for serial interaction, some logic gates, and of course a 6502 microprocessor (NMOS or CMOS, doesn't matter which). You hook it into a terminal and away you go.

Grant's design in turn can be best described as a distilled, modernized version of the OSI Challenger series of computers. Here's an OSI-400 and a Challenger 4P respectively:

The left one is a replica of the 400 circa 1976, also called the Superboard. It was affordable, endlessly reconfigurable and hackable, but ultimately very limited in capabilities. No BASIC, minimal monitor ROM you talk to over serial, but you could connect it to a bus to augment its features and turn it into a more powerful computer.

Whereas the OSI C4P on the right from about 1979 has more RAM, a video card, keyboard, BASIC built in, serial interface, cassette tape storage, and that's just the standard configuration. There was more room to expand and augment it to your needs inside the chassis (alot changed in 3 years for home computer users).

Grant's minimal 6502 design running OSI BASIC is a good starter project for hobbyists. I learned about the 6502's memory map decoding from his design. I modified and implemented his design on a separate cards that could connect to a larger backplane.

Here are the serial, ROM, RAM, and CPU cards respectively:

Each one is 100% custom, containing many modifications and fixes as I developed the design. However, that's only half of the computer.

I really wanted a 6502 machine with a front panel. People told me "nobody did that", or couldn't think of examples from the 1970s but that seemed really strange to me. Especially since I had evidence to the contrary in the form of the OSI-300:

This one I saw at VCF West back in 2018 illustrates just how limited of a design it is. 128 bytes of RAM, no ROM, no serial -- just you, the CPU, and toggle switches and LEDs to learn the CPU. I was inspired the first time I saw one in 2015 at VCF East, which is probably when this whole project got set in motion.

Later that year I bought a kit for a miniature replica OSI-300 made by Christopher Bachman, and learned really quickly how limited the design philosophy for this particular front panel was. It was a major pain in the ass to use (to be clear, that's by OSI's choice, not any fault of Christopher in his implementation)

So... I designed my own. Took awhile, but that's the core of what the Cactus is: my attempt at experiencing the 1970s homebrew scene by building the computer I would have wanted at the time. Over half of the logic in the Cactus is just to run the front panel's state machine, so you can examine and modify the contents of memory without bothering the 6502. I added in all of the things I liked from more advanced front panels I had encountered, and designed it to my liking.

Here's the original front panel, accompanying logic, and backplane connected to the modern single board computer (SBC) version of the machine:

And here's the new Cactus SBC working with the new front panel PCB, which combines the logic, physical switch mountings, and cabling harnesses into a single printed circuit board.

So, what can you do with it? Pretty much the same things I do already with other contemporary 1970s computers: play around in BASIC, fire up the occasional game, and tinker with it.

I've got no permanent storage designed for the Cactus as yet, it's been one of those "eventually" things. The good news is that a variety of software can be ported to the hardware without too much trouble for an experienced hobbyist. A friend of mine wrote a game called ZNEK in 6502 assembly which runs from a terminal:

Right now, you have to either toggle in machine programs from the front panel from scratch, burn a custom ROM, or connect it to a serial terminal to gain access to its more advanced features:

Here's it booted into OSI BASIC, but I have also added in a modern descendant of Steve Wozniak's WOZMON software for when I need to do lower level debugging.

I've also got a video card now, based on the OSI-440. I have yet to implement a keyboard, or modify BASIC to use the video board instead of the serial connection. Even if I did, screen resolution is pretty limited at 24x24 characters on screen at once. Still, I'm working on that...

Anyway, I hope that answers your question. Check the tags below to see the whole process stretching back to 2017 if you're curious to learn more of the project's history. I'm also happy to answer any more questions you might have about the project.

[vivalas-vega]

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

hiii - feels like a long time since I've actually posted anything. this fic idea came to me kind of randomly - I've been seeing a lot of fics lately centered around making/having babies and I thought it'd be nice to write something angsty and fluffy catered to those of us who are childless and want to remain that way lol - as always, lmk what you think!

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

word count: 3.5k

I do not have a taglist - if you'd like to be notified of future works please follow @vegaslibrary and turn on post notifications

warnings: mentions of periods, hints at termination (not said explicitly but it's there), talk of kids/pregnancy, angst and fluff !!

You shut the dishwasher before continuing to move about the kitchen as you cleaned up from dinner, one you would say was one of your best if you were going to toot your own horn, and your sights were set on the freezer for a little ice cream to go along with your movie before bed. You thought you should hold out, you’d left an invite open to your boyfriend to come here after his plans, but you decided against it. Ben and Jerry’s waits for no one.

You set it out to soften for a minute, pulling your planner from your bag to skim through your plans for the next day to make sure all your ducks were in a row and you were about to close it when you fixated on the date. “There’s no way,” you muttered to yourself, genuinely baffled by how far into the month you were. Your brow furrowed as you tried to comb through your memory but things had been so busy lately you were falling short so you switched to your phone and tapped on the pink app icon, eyes widening as you realized your first thought was true.

“No, no, no,” you sighed, walking to the bathroom with a quicker pace than normal and dropping down to look beneath your sink. “Don’t be expired,” you pleaded. To whom you were pleading you had no idea, but you breathed out a sigh of relief when the tiny text on the box confirmed you still had a while to use them. 

You checked the app again, scrolling back through the month and confirming what you’d hoped you’d misinterpreted the first time… but you hadn’t, you were in fact late. Ten days late. You had always considered yourself quite lucky, your period ran like a well oiled machine and your cycle was always twenty-nine days on the dot. Every so often you’d fluctuate, but only by a day, and for that you were grateful. You were always prepared, and you always knew if you ever fluctuated by more than a day it was cause for concern…

Ten days was more than cause for concern in your book, frankly as you stared at the test you thought you didn’t even really need to take it. You only kept them on hand because you were known for missing a pill here and there and you’d rather have to run to your bathroom in a panic than to your closest mini-mart, but you’d never truly had a scare before. You always assumed they’d expire before you got to use them. Oh, how wrong you were. 

Pregnancy was never on the docket for you. You knew from a young age you had no interest and frankly it scared you more than anything. You knew it was reckless not to switch to a more effective birth control, one that was foolproof and long-lasting but the pill you’d been on since high school hadn’t failed you yet so you’d put it off despite the fact that it had been on your to-do list. Right about now you were wishing you’d just booked the appointment and gotten it over with. 

You did the only thing you really knew to do at this moment and fired off a text to Natasha, your best friend for almost two decades. All it read was three simple numbers: 911. 

You heaved a sigh as you ran your fingers through your hair and chastised yourself for being so flippant. You knew you didn’t want this, and you knew the pill wasn’t perfect, especially not when you missed at least one per pack. Really, you’d just gotten lucky your whole adult life, and the fact that this hadn’t happened sooner was beginning to feel like a miracle as you really let the situation wash over you. You were broken from your thoughts by the sound of your phone vibrating harshly against the tile and you answered it before it even got through its first ring.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked in lieu of a hello. This was one of the many reasons you loved her and why she was still your best friend after all this time. Unless she was in the air or on the other side of the world, a 911 text was responded to in the form of a call in five minutes or less. You also decided to forgo a greeting and simply held up the box and her eyes widened, “no, are you serious?” 

“Unfortunately,” you sighed and she considered her next question carefully.

“Have you taken one yet?” You shook your head. “Okay, so it’s just a suspicion, maybe there’s not even anything to worry about.” 

“Ten days, Nat,” you replied.

“Oh shit,” was all she said for a moment. “Hey, you’ve been eerily regular your entire life, maybe your uterus taking a hard earned break,” she tried and you chuckled at the attempt to lighten the situation with humor. 

“Or maybe it’s growing a person,” you said and she rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t even taken it, you can’t get all doom and gloom yet. Have you talked to Jake?” 

“Should I?” you shot back and she just gave you a deadpan look through the screen.

“Should you talk to your boyfriend, the one who may or may not have impregnated you, about the fact that he may or may not have impregnated you?” she asked rhetorically. 

“I just… it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere if it’s positive,” you sighed. “We haven’t talked about it, Nat. He doesn’t know how I feel and I have a feeling it’s going to ruin everything.” 

“How could you know that if you haven’t talked about it?” she replied with that face that told you she knew she was right, because she always was, not that you’d tell her that. “If this was some random hookup I’d say absolutely don’t talk to them about it, but this is Jake… you guys are getting serious and I think you’ll feel better if you do.” 

“That’s the thing, we’re getting serious. This is still so new, what if I lose him as soon as I tell him ‘yeah if you stay with me you’ll never have a family’?” 

“First of all, I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this but definitely don’t say it like that. Second of all, if you lose him because your goals for the future don’t align then he was never really yours to begin with. It just means your person is still out there and so is his.” 

“I know that was meant to be comforting but the thought of him having a person out there that isn’t me is making me nauseous.” 

“Sure it’s not morning sickness?” she teased and you scowled at your phone screen. 

“I’m serious, Nat… I know it’s early and we’re just starting to settle into a groove but I feel like he’s it, you know?”

“No, I really don’t know how my beautiful and smart best friend winds up being it for Hangman, but you know I love and support you and all your choices… including whatever you decide to do if the test is positive. At the end of the day the final say is yours, but I think you should at least include him in the conversation.” 

“I know, I just… shit,” you were cut off by the sound of your front door and Jake’s voice letting you know it was him. “I completely forgot he was coming over.”

“Talk to him, even if it doesn’t go well it’s better to know now, it’ll only hurt worse later… and for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’ll be whatever worst case scenario you’ve concocted,” she said before you hung up and Jake was just walking into to bedroom as you exited the bathroom.

“Hey, there you are sweetheart,” he said with that famous smirk of his that was now only reserved for you. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips that you easily reciprocated, “you on the phone?” 

“I was, with Nat,” you answered and he chuckled.

“Swear you two can’t go four hours without checking in. I have no idea how you make it through deployments.” He’d tease but he loved how close you were, if you weren’t he’d never have met you. You would have never been dragged into the Hard Deck and he’d never have the opportunity to spend two long months trying to win you over. She’d swear until her dying breath it had been the opposite of her intentions, but Jake would always consider himself indebted to Natasha for bringing you into his life.

“Yeah well, she had to tell me all about your epic failure at the pool table,” you said and he laughed. It absolutely had not been the topic of your call, but you were glad she had been texting you about your boyfriend’s terrible game against Bradley as it was happening so you had something to say while you worked up the nerve to tell him what you were really talking about. 

“Okay, it was not an epic failure,” he said as he pulled his spare clothes from your dresser and began working on the buttons of his khakis, “but if it was, it was only because I didn’t have my good luck charm.” 

“She said you’d use some cop out like that,” you replied and he playfully rolled his eyes. He quickly pulled on his sweats and became acutely aware of how you hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, and the way you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb. Normally, you’d have already jumped into bed and launched into a rundown of everything that happened during the day but you were silent, unmoving, and about to hit bone on your thumb. 

“Everything okay?” he asked as he shrugged his shirt on and you nodded, suddenly realizing how off you were being as well. 

“Just a long day at work,” you answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and you should have known he’d see right through you. He always did, even before you were officially together. Jake had learned you and all your cues in record time and nothing got under his skin more than when you tried to pretend he hadn’t… like you were right now. 

“Wanna try that again?” He sat beside you and put a reassuring hand on your thigh, and the simple action had you letting out a sigh. 

“I’m late,” you said and Jake just nodded. Most men would have asked late for what? but as you’d learned over the past several months, Jake wasn’t most men and he didn’t need to prod to realize what you meant, especially when you were this visibly anxious.

“Okay, have you taken a test yet? Do we need to go get one?” He kept his tone even and measured, not wanting to add any more stress onto your plate.

You shook your head, “there’s one in the bathroom,” you answered. He hated the way you were avoiding his eyes and the way you hadn’t stopped picking at your hands.

“Let’s take the test so we know exactly what we’re dealing with, and then regardless of the result we’ll sit right here and talk it all out… how does that sound?” he asked and you smiled softly but it didn’t reach your eyes. He was always proactive, any time something came up he immediately sought out a solution and you weren’t at all surprised this was his response.

“I think that sounds good,” you said as you stood, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” he replied and you knew from the look in his eyes he meant that in more ways than one. Seeing you stressed or overwhelmed wasn’t new for him, but this was something else entirely… normally you’d be frazzled over something work related and you’d vent to him and snap back to normal but you were completely withdrawn. He knew you were scared, frankly he was a little scared too, but he was suddenly worried he hadn’t made his feelings clear enough. There really wasn’t anything you could do at this point to send him running, and especially not this; he desperately wanted to know what was nagging at you so he could reassure it away.

You returned from the bathroom and took up your previous spot beside him, stick in hand, “two minutes.” you said softly and he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, whatever it is we’ll figure it out. Everything will be okay,” he said and you nodded but he could tell his words just rolled right off you, not sticking in the slightest. He thought it’d be best to stay silent while you waited, he’d be able to get to the root of it once you both knew exactly what was going on.

The timer on your phone startled you and you silenced it as you took a deep breath. Jake slid his hand through your free one and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly as you flipped the test over. Negative. You exhaled in relief and dropped your head against his shoulder and he quickly lifted his arm to pull you into his chest. Emotion tugged at you despite how you tried to keep it at arm's length, and eventually you succumbed to the tears trying to break free.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” Jake whispered, kissing the top of your head and drawing soothing patterns along your back. He continued to talk, low reassurances that weren’t quite registering but the tenor of his voice eventually calmed you down and when the emotions finally ran their course he hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “Talk to me, what had you so worried?” he asked gently, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

You considered your options: you could say you were just terrified by an unplanned pregnancy and push past it, or you could do what you knew you needed to and be honest despite the fact you were somehow convinced it’d bring the end of your relationship. “I don’t want kids,” you blurted out and he was nearly as surprised by the sudden confession as you were.

“I- I never have, I… never envisioned that life for myself and I’ve never felt that thing people feel that makes them want kids. I know I’m like… broken or something, I know it literally goes against my biological nature to not want kids, I just don’t and I know that can be a deal breaker so I understand if you don’t want to stay-"

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he interrupted, his tone still gentle but not as soft as it had been earlier. “You are not broken. It’s perfectly normal to not want kids and you don’t need to justify that, to me or anyone else. This isn’t a deal breaker, sweetheart, I’m pretty convinced nothing is at this point,” he said and this reassured you slightly, loosened the knot in your stomach slightly.

“You don’t want kids?” you asked, your voice still timid and small. You didn’t want to ask but you needed to know, this was your one shot to get everything out in the open and make sure you were on the same page.

He thought carefully for a moment before answering. “I honestly haven’t given it a lot of thought. My life is so up in the air, literally and figuratively, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to picture slowing down enough to factor kids in. That’s not to say I’ve never wanted them, but I’ve never been attached to the idea.”

“Is it disappointing to know that if you stay with me you’ll never have that option? I don’t want you to have regrets or end up resenting me because I never gave you a family.” Jake’s heart cracked at the look on your face and the emotion thinly veiled in your eyes. In the back of his mind he knew this was coming from somewhere specific… At some point someone had made you feel like you were broken, had either said or made you feel like a life with you wouldn’t be enough without kids and he hated that. He hated that right now it seemed like you were just waiting for him to echo the sentiment and leave you stranded. 

“Sweetheart, if that test had been positive and you wanted to keep it I’d be thrilled to start a family with you, just as thrilled as I am to build a life just the two of us. I don’t love you because of your ability to provide me with a hypothetical family… I love you because you’re you, that’s always going to be enough for me.” Your breathing hitched as you processed his words, you literally felt the weight lift off your chest at the reassurance he really wasn’t going anywhere and it gave your heart the room to thud wildly against your rib cage.

“You love me?” you asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips and his eyes widened. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t realized what he’d confessed and he felt himself flush.

“Yeah, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it just now, or so soon- I do love you but this night has been emotionally overwhelming enough, please don’t feel like you have-“ he was rambling, and you were having a hard time keeping your enjoyment in check. 

Jake was a confident and assured man, it’s part of what drew you to him at first, but now he was a stumbling mess with crimson cheeks because he’d just confessed he loved you and you were sure he’d never been more attractive to you. Not when he sidled up beside you and bought every drink you ordered every time you were in the Hard Deck with that cocky smirk and those sparkling eyes, not when he boldly flirted with you every time he saw you despite Natasha threatening to have him shot out of the sky, and not when he threw an arm around your shoulder and called you his girlfriend with no real confirmation, he just knew you were his and he was yours. None of those moments of the smooth and charismatic Jake you knew compared to this sweet and bashful one in front of you.

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss, knowing he wouldn’t stop unless you did it for him. He responded instantly and you couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled back. “I love you, too.” you said and in the blink of an eye he regained his confidence, pulling you back into him and kissing you like a man starved. 

“You just made me the happiest man on earth, darlin’,” he said, pecking your lips once more. “A life with you is everything I ever dreamed of. We don’t have to talk about this ever again unless you want to… I just need you to know that I’ll remain the happiest man on earth so long as I’ve got you, no hypothetical children could ever make me regret or resent you.” 

You felt the need to be closer to him and crawled into his lap to wrap around him like a koala, squeezing so tight he let out a strained laugh. “I love you,” you said again as he held you close.

“I love you too, sweetheart… Now what do you say we get some snacks and ice cream and decompress with a movie night?” he asked and your eyes widened as you pulled back, suddenly remembering what you’d left on the counter. 

“My ice cream!” you yelled, disentangling yourself from him and sprinting down the hallway to assess the damage and he trailed behind you chuckling the whole way… he watched you frown as you looked at what had turned into soup and you pulled out your phone, mumbling something about getting it delivered because there was no way you’d go without a sweet treat tonight. He was paying attention, because of course he was, but as he stood leaning against the doorframe looking at you with a lovesick expression on his face he was thinking about the future. 

He saw nights at the bar, you heckling his friends better than he ever could and getting away with it in a way he never did. He saw travel at every opportunity and nights-in just like you were about to have. He saw romantic dinners and fights and nights of endless passion — and maybe he saw a dog down the line. He saw himself putting a big rock on your finger and buying you a house with a porch swing out back because he knew that’s all you really wanted, and it’s there on that swing you’d watch the sun rise and set over the ocean and truly start to grow old together. He saw it all, the good and the bad, in a split second while watching you lean over the kitchen counter, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through your options, and he couldn’t help but beam. ‘As if I could ever regret a life with you,’ he thought.

[peppermintquartz]

Explicit.

Yes, with the Daddy kink.

*

"God, I hope so."

Tommy can't believe those words left his mouth, but what is a guy to do when Evan Buckley is sitting so close looking delectable?

Evan only gazes at him, smiling in a way that seems to be hinting at something naughty. Tommy refuses to squirm in his seat. He's thirty-nine years old, he's not going to be a shy little prude about what he likes. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirts and the leather cuffs.

"I don't know, Tommy," says Evan slowly, spearing some salad on his fork, "I may need some persuading to, uh, open up to you more about my daddy issues."

He chews and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Okay, that's it.

"Challenge accepted." Tommy feels a slow heat building at the base of his spine, but tucks that away for now. The dinner is really good and he's not about to deprive Evan of the energy he'll need. And Tommy is going to make sure Evan expends a lot of energy.

They chat about other matters: about flying for the army versus flying for the fire department, about bartending, about how Evan sued the fire department for wrongful termination ("yes, I was on blood thinners, and yes, I'm still very careful"), about the first car Tommy restored.

By the end of the meal, Tommy is less concerned with what they're talking about and more concerned about Evan's wine-stained lips and dark eyes. And from the way Evan's foot is rubbing up and down Tommy's calf, he thinks the younger man isn't interested in conversation any longer either.

"Let's clean up," Tommy suggests. He doesn't mean to drop his voice further, but the words come out in a low rumble. Evan's eyes darken even more.

They load up the dishwasher together, Tommy knowing enough about Evan not to usurp the task. When Evan closes the door to the machine and starts it up, Tommy reels his boyfriend in and says, "Good boy."

Evan swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I just put some plates in the dishwasher. That's hardly difficult."

"True," Tommy allows, then swivels Evan around to face the sink, where the salad bowl is sat. "Wash that now, hmm?" He keeps his hands on Evan's hips as Evan washes up quickly, and firmly pins him against the counter when he takes the bowl, his arms going around his boyfriend to dry the wooden bowl and set it aside.

"Tommy?" Evan sounds a little breathless. "What are you..."

"Shh. Good boys don't interrupt." Tommy turns him around again, noses along Evan's jawline and breathes him in. He flicks his tongue out and plays with Evan's earlobe before biting softly on it. Evan shudders and moans, wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist and shoulder.

Tommy feels his pulse kick up another notch. He pushes a thigh between Evan's knees, and gratifyingly Evan allows it. Tommy needs to get closer, and reaches down to hook one leg up. Evan goes along with it, gasping when Tommy starts licking and sucking on that soft spot under his ear. He's hard against Tommy where their groins are pressed together, and his fingers are digging into the older man's back.

"Alright, baby, do you want it here or on the bed?" Tommy growls. He wants it to be good for Evan, he needs it to be good for Evan. He needs to see Evan undone completely.

"Bed," Evan says.

Tommy begins to move, then pauses. A wicked little smile crosses his face and he leans back to make sure Evan can see it. "That's not how you answer nicely, Evan."

Evan is flushed and his pupils already wide with lust. His mouth - and what a pretty, pretty mouth, Tommy wants to do all kinds of filthy things to it - is open, his breathing labored. "Tommy, bed, please."

Tommy is very pleased that he's strong enough to keep Buck pinned against the counter. He rocks his hips forward, hissing at the pleasurable pressure. "Ask nicely."

"I did, I said please!" Evan protests. He tries to push away from the counter but with one leg firmly hooked around Tommy's waist, he has little leverage.

Tommy leans forward to lick his way into Evan's mouth, unable to bear another second not tasting his boyfriend. "Ask Daddy nicely now."

Evan freezes for a second. His hands tighten where he's clutching Tommy, and for a heartbeat Tommy wonders if he's spooked the younger man.

Then Evan grabs Tommy by his neck and practically inhales him with hungry kisses. With a tiny jump, he wraps both legs around Tommy and, oh, that feels very encouraging, where Evan's hard cock is pressed against his abdomen.

"Take me to bed right fucking now, Daddy." It's Evan's turn to growl, and Tommy is very glad his knees are strong enough to hold him and Evan up.

It takes some tricky maneuvering before they do end up on the mattress, Tommy having had to relinquish his prize so they can both take the stairs without falling and hurting themselves, and they're stripping with the efficiency of men who know exactly what they want right now. Evan grabs the lube from the nightstand and Tommy tears open a condom.

It never fails to awe Tommy that his partners trust him so much with their bodies, and even more so with Evan. The younger man sighs into the pillows and allows Tommy into him with minimal prep, only the faintest of grimaces on his face where it may sting. Despite every nerve telling him to claim, Tommy holds still, chest heaving and arms trembling with the effort not to just thrust into that slick, hot tightness.

Evan's eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown and his lips redder than before. "Take me," he whispers. "Take me hard. I wanna feel it for days."

Tommy smacks Evan's thigh lightly. "Ask properly."

Evan licks his lips, a look of mischief fluttering over his face. His cheeks are pink and his hair fluffed up. "I don't want to."

The downfall of saints, this one, Tommy thinks, and thrusts, once, to remind Evan exactly who's in charge, and begins to pull out. "Really? Then I guess I'll just take a nap instead-"

"Wait, no, Daddy," Evan gasps, and his cheeks flame even darker with want.

Tommy is shaking inside with desire but he holds still. "Ask. Properly."

Evan blinks up at him. A coy smile curves his lips. "Please, Daddy, may I have more?"

Tommy kisses him. "Much better." He flexes his hips and thrusts into Evan's hot body. It is so much better. He loses himself to the rhythm and the feel of sweat-slick skin. Evan spreads his long legs even more and wraps his limbs around Tommy, breathing encouragement and pleas for moremoremore.

Reaching between them, Tommy wraps his big hand around Evan's hard cock. "Daddy's gonna take care of you," he rasps, stroking fast and firmly, his callused hand wet with Evan's precome. Evan whimpers, fingers raking over Tommy's back. Even in the haze of lovemaking, Tommy hopes Evan will leave scratch marks. It'll be satisfying to have visible reminders of pleasure.

"Please," Evan sobs when Tommy's thumb rubs over the head of his cock over and over, the pad of his thumb pressing into the wet slit. "Please, please, please Daddy please-"

Another soft cry and Evan's spilling hot and slick all over Tommy's hand, clenching down on Tommy's cock. Tommy valiantly strokes Evan through his climax until he's limp and breathless, telling him you're a good boy Evan, such a good boy for me, and suddenly Evan has a hand buried in Tommy's hair and he's squeezing down on Tommy's cock again - whatever Evan has been reading up on to build those muscles, Tommy is going to get a subscription, it feels incredible - and then Evan is whispering in his ear, "Come for me, Daddy, show me how I've been a good boy." And Tommy's vision whites out for a second, all sensation rushing inwards and exploding through his nerves.

When his brain comes back online, he realizes he's lying on his boyfriend like a huge immovable rock and carefully pulls out to roll to the side. Evan makes an unhappy sound as Tommy releases him from his weight, but snuggles closer once Tommy's got rid of the condom.

"I know I liked that," Tommy mumbles, his eyelids growing heavy from the post-coital hormones. "But was it good for you?"

"Yeah, yes it was," Evan replies, sounding just as sleepy. He drapes a long leg over Tommy's. "We'll be stuck together if we don't shower though."

Part of Tommy wants to say he doesn't fucking care, but another part knows that Evan won't appreciate the discomfort. He grunts and levers himself up onto his elbows.

In the dim light, Evan's an adorable, debauched angel with mussed hair and flushed skin. Tommy wishes he were twenty again, just so he can go one more round with Evan immediately.

"We can shower together," he says instead, and gets a sweet kiss. Then he adds with a hopeful bat of his eyelashes. "Shower sex?"

Evan raises his eyebrows. "We'll see if you're... up to it." With another twinkle and smirk, he tacks on, "Old man."

Delighted, Tommy smiles and grabs Evan's wrist. "Challenge accepted."

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 24 FINAL | S.R

Previous Chapter

A/N - not originally where I planned to take this it felt right for me to take the fic in this direction. There is a happy ending but I guess it’s kinda bittersweet?

Summary - Spencer takes one final blow in regards to his health and Luke makes a decision. Will you and Spencer get your happy ending or were you just too rusty?

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - heavy hospital talk, swearing, terminal illness, DID, catheterisation and urination, medication, lots of tears, hints at oral (m receiving), penetrative, unprotected sex.

WC - 6.3k

Chapter 24 - Bless the Broken Road

Over the next few days, Spencer started gaining some independence. But with the ups came some terrible lows. 

He was gradually weaned off of the ventilator, which was an experience in itself. Doctor Wells was confident in his ability to breathe on his own. However his chest x-ray hadn't yielded entirely good news and she confirmed her unfortunate findings with tissue samples. One thing at a time. She would get Spencer off the vent and then have the conversation.

He was given a mild sedative to relax his airways and calm his nerves. He was conscious but hazy which was for the best. 

His tube was suctioned one more time before Doctor Wells started slowly decreasing the ventilator's support and monitoring his response. 

His lungs kicked back into gear albeit leisurely. At first he struggled to remember how to take his own breaths, still heavily relying on the ventilator and gasping a little between each staggered inhale and exhale. 

Doctor Wells continued to lower the machine, while he desperately fought to breathe on his own. Once the machine was completely disconnected, the tube still down in his throat in case he needed the vent suddenly, he was subjected to spontaneous breathing trials. 

For over an hour he was watched closely by the doctor while he sat in bed and simply breathed. Every now and again he would gasp, stutter out a ragged breath and heave air back into his lungs. 

She reminded him to stay calm, to just let it happen naturally which was hard given he’d had something breathing for him for nearly a week. 

She monitored his oxygen levels and vitals and was pleased with his progress even if he didn’t think his breathing felt at all normal. She assured him it was all par for the course. 

After she was suitably pleased with his breathing, his lungs feeling like they were ready to expand right out of his chest, she informed him she would be extubating him. 

The feeling of the breathing tube being removed from his throat caused him to gag violently and cough so hard it burnt. His breathing became completely erratic and he silently begged to just be hooked back up to the machine.

It’s too hard, can’t do it alone. Can’t remember how to breathe on my own. Can’t do it. Can’t remember. S’too hard, please? 

“Doctor Reid, you’re doing great. It’s okay to feel some anxiety, it’s perfectly normal. Just breathe in and out like you’ve been doing your entire life.” 

At first he was inhaling too sharply, through his nose and sending the air spiralling too quickly into his exhausted lungs. 

Why can’t I remember how to breathe? Been doing it since you were born. It was six days, you can do this you fucking idiot. 

After several long minutes his breathing started to return to something close to normal although he had to concentrate extremely hard on each breath. 

Doctor Wells provided him with a nasal cannula although instructed he try to only use it when he really felt he needed it.

She explained it would be an adjustment. His respiratory muscles needed to generate the necessary force to move air in and out, and those muscles had been depleted whilst on the vent. 

“Can you try swallowing for me, Doctor Reid?” She asked him once he started getting his breathing somewhat under control. 

He did. And it felt magnificent. He did it again. Then she handed him some blessed water for his extremely dry throat but told him he had to sip slowly, despite wanting to guzzle it down. 

The water was glorious, quenching his hideous throat and mouth. It was such a wonderful reprieve and he relished every second. 

“Do you think you can try and talk for me now?” Doctor Wells encouraged after he finished the cup of water. 

He rolled his cracked lip between his teeth - a small action he’d missed being able to do - before gently nodding his head. 

He cleared his throat and sucked in a breath which caused his lungs to freak out and he started coughing. 

Another cup of water and several minutes of trying to calm him down he sat back against his pillows feeling a little light headed. But he persevered. 

“H-hello.” His voice was so croaky he barely registered it was his own. 

It made his throat tickle and he almost succumbed to another coughing fit but thankfully breathed through it. 

“Great, and again?” Wells prompted. 

Does she have any idea how difficult it was just to say that? 

He fought the urge to huff another breath for fear of sending his lungs into a panic again. He’d wanted his first words to be to tell you how much he loved you but since your first time visiting him yesterday you were yet to return. 

You’d stayed with him for a few hours and talked to him while he listened and dozed in and out of sleep. You talked to him about Willow and Rusty and Copper, told him Grant and Luke were staying with you and how weird it was. He continuously tapped away on your hand, repeating his morse code mantra. 

dot-dot. dot-dash-dot-dot. dash-dash-dash. dot-dot-dot-dash. dot. dash-dot-dash-dash. dash-dash-dash. dot-dot-dash. 

And to his knowledge he hadn’t dissociated or slipped into one of his alters once the whole time you were there. However, as soon as you left the old ghosts had reared their ugly head and chatted amongst themselves until he willfully fell asleep. 

Doctor Wells was watching him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. He had no idea what he was supposed to say, it was a very strange and new experience. But despite everything, he forced his voice to cooperate.

“H-hello, I am S-Spen…Spe-Spencer Reid.” The effort with which it took him to say those five words caused a heat to spread to his lungs again and he was huffing and puffing once they were out. 

Doctor Wells was quick to hand him the nasal cannula which he gratefully took from her, stuffing the little tubes inside his nostrils and deeply inhaling the sweet, sweet oxygen. And that was when she decided to deliver the blow. 

“Doctor Reid…Spencer,” her expression changed and Spencer knew that look, he’d used it so many times in his FBI career.

Bad news. She has bad news. Oh god I’m dying aren’t I? Oh fuck you’ve really done it this time. 

His head started to spin, his vision blurring. 

No, no don’t dissociate now, you need to understand what she has to say.

He focused himself on his breathing, squeezed the bedsheets in his hand. He needed to stay present, stay focused. The fuzzy edges of his vision became slowly sharper. 

We can do this, just be Spencer. 

“W-what is it?” He spoke breathily. “Just tell me, please?” 

“I’m afraid there is no easy way to say this.” Doctor Wells sighed. “During your chest x-ray we found some scarring on your lungs and the diagnosis was confirmed by having your tissue samples analysed. I’m afraid it appears you’ve developed pulmonary fibrosis, I trust you know what this is?” 

Spencer’s jaw clenched. He focused on keeping himself as Spencer, not allowing the alters to take over. Not now, he needed just a moment to deal with this himself. 

“I-I…” hardened, thickened lung tissue, makes it hard to breathe, harder over time. Shortness of breath, coughing fits, constant fatigue. “Y-yes.” 

“It is terminal, Doctor Reid, and it is progressive. However, we caught it early and although it's not curable it is treatable. It is possible that you can live for years with this disease if properly treated.” She smiled softly, her tone laced with melancholia. 

“But it w-will kill me? O-one day?” He stuttered. 

“I’m afraid so. And we have no way to know how long that will take. The average life span is generally three to five years, but I’m hopeful you can beat those odds.” 

He sucked in the oxygen through his nose, biting back a cough. His breaths were coming in short, sharp bursts. 

Better get used to that, never going to be able to breathe properly again. 

“I want to get you started on medication right away. I’m going to prescribe pirfenidone which will help slow the lung scarring, but won’t be able to reverse it. We can set you up with at home oxygen therapy once you are discharged, portable oxygen cylinders with nasal cannulas that you can use when you feel the need. 

“I can enrol you in a pulmonary rehabilitation which will help you stay active without over exerting yourself and will improve how easily you will be able to do every day tasks. This sadly doesn’t end well, Doctor Reid, as you know. But with your age and the fact we caught it early, I do believe you can live a long, relatively normal life.” 

“But not as l-long as if I didn’t h-have this, right?” He felt the tears well in his eyes.

“Right.” She agreed. 

Well done, Reid you did it. You wanted to kill yourself and ultimately got your wish. It's just going to be a slow, painful death while your lungs steadily give up on you. 

“I, uh, can I b-be alone, p-please?” He let the tears fall, rolling his head on the pillow away from the doctor.

“Of course.” She nodded and he heard her push the chair back.

“And I d-don’t want…my friends, d-don’t tell them this. I’ll t-tell them when I’m ready. N-not yet.” His chest stuttered with each painful breath. Was it normal that his lungs hurt more now he knew this?

“Of course Doctor Reid, that’s your call. But I will say that it helps to have people around while you’re dealing with something like this. Your life will be exceedingly different now and you will need people to aid your adjustment. You aren’t going to be able to do all the things you used to do, accepting help from people who love you will greatly improve your quality of life and even lengthen it.” Doctor Wells spoke but she could see he was no longer listening.

She could tell by the glazed look in his eyes he wasn’t even Spencer anymore. 

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his fractured mind, Spencer registered her words. But his presenting alter wasn’t listening. 

“Look what you’ve gone and done you fucking puta. After everything you survived, this is what you’re going to let kill you? Mierda, what a waste of such a perfect cock sucking mouth.” 

Lea-leave me al-alone. I c-can’t. Can’t. Not now. P-please just let me pro-process. 

Spencer Reid who wasn’t Spencer Reid cried himself into a fitful sleep while his slowly dying lungs tried desperately to keep him alive a little while longer. 

***

Three days later Spencer was dealing with his diagnosis the way he always dealt with things - by ignoring them. 

He’d started PT to aid his breathing for his disused lungs which he thought was pointless seeing that they were giving up on him anyway. 

He was off his catheter and allowed to move about as long as he had his portable oxygen tank at his disposal. 

Coming off of the catheter offered him a distraction from his illness albeit not a particularly nice one. The feeling of having a full bladder was an uncomfortable and new experience. He’d gotten so used to the catheter draining his urine constantly he’d forgotten what it was like to need to go. 

He often found himself not quite making it to the bathroom before he expelled himself, once in bed and a few times on the floor on route to the toilet. And when did go it was painful and oftentimes he wasn’t able to empty his bladder to the extent he needed and was left feeling dissatisfied. 

It was slowly starting to pass, he was at least able to make it to the bathroom before urinating himself now but the slight discomfort remained. 

He was prescribed pirfenidone for his pulmonary fibrosis and after a few meetings with Doctor Vikram she put him on a strong dose of olanzapine for his DID which was yet to go away. 

He’d refused at first, desperate to not be reliant on an antipsychotic used to treat schizophrenia. But as the days drew on and the alters grew louder and louder in his head, he decided he would do anything to make it stop. 

He was eventually able to shower which was an absolute godsend. And finally after nearly two weeks in the hospital, Spencer was allowed to be discharged. 

Honestly it felt like an absolute lifetime since he’d last stepped outside. The air seemed fresher, crisper somehow. 

Spring was in full bloom and he wished he could properly smell the flowers over his nasal cannula which was attached to the little canister of oxygen that Luke insisted on wheeling for him even though he was perfectly capable. 

He still hadn’t told any of you about his diagnosis, he simply lied and said he’d need the oxygen for a little while until his lungs would get back to their full capacity, knowing they never would. 

Luke drove home, Grant sitting up front and you in the back with Spencer, hand in hand. He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, slipping the nose cannula out and letting it hang around his neck.  

He wasn’t supposed to use it all the time anyway, only when he really needed it. Although his lungs did noticeably burn when he wasn’t using it. 

He just wanted to enjoy this moment with you, knowing it would all soon be over. None of you had discussed what happened now but you all knew it was inevitable. 

It was late and so Spencer offered Luke and Grant to stay one last night, more out of wanting one final night with you before Luke carted you away to federal prison. 

Grant cooked a large meal for which Spencer barely touched, he had other things on his mind. After you’d all eaten, he removed his cannula once more and let himself take in a fresh breath. 

All eyes were already on him. You were all far too smart and all knew he was keeping something from you. 

He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose before opening them and looking back around the table. 

“Luke, I need you to do me a f-favour.” Spencer spoke breathily. 

“Anything man.” Luke quickly replied. 

“I need you t-to call the team. I n-need to tell you all some-something and I can only say it on-once.” He panted as he spoke.

You whimpered pathetically, reaching out and clutching his hand at the implication. Luke swallowed thickly, glancing at Grant as he freed his phone from his pocket without a word. He called Emily and put the device on speaker. It rang three times.

“Hey, Alvez. How is Reid?” She was speaking rapidly.

“I’m h-here, Emily.” He spoke before Luke could. 

“Reid, it's so good to hear your voice.” She smiled as she spoke.

“Prentiss, are you with the team?” Luke’s voice cut in. 

“Uh, yeah we’re all at the BAU, why?” 

“Can you g-gather them please? Need to…p-please?” Spencer whined, pressing his knuckles to his chest as a wave of pain pulsed through him.

“Of course, give me a minute.” Her tone was laced with the fear you all felt in the room. 

You clutched Spencer’s hand tighter, already feeling the tears well in your eyes, knowing whatever he had to say wasn’t going to be good. 

A few minutes of thick and tense silence passed before Emily was speaking again.

“We’re all here, Reid. The whole team is here.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting his cannula and holding it to his nose whilst taking a long pull on the liquid heaven that was his oxygen. He let it hang again from his neck and looked around the room. If he focused hard enough he could imagine the whole team was here with him.

“I don’t know h-how to say this other than to-to just s-say it.” Breathe, remember to breathe. “The d-doctor found scar-scarring on my lungs. She dia-diagnosed me with pulmonary fib-fibrosis.” Struggling, he picked the cannula back up and inserted it fully into his nose. “My lungs are going to slowly shut down. The thin w-walls of my l-lungs air sacs are t-thickening which m-makes it harder for t-them to get o-oxygen to the rest of my body. 

“The t-typical prognosis is th-three to f-five years, but D-Doctor Wells is h-hopeful I might out-outlive those odds. But either way this…this is going to k-kill me one d-day.” Breath, just breath. “I’m on m-medication to slo-slow the sc-scarring and I w-will need supplemental ox-oxygen. I…uh…I just needed you a-all to know. I n-need you all to know that I lo-love you all. And, uh…yeah.” 

He closed his eyes against a wave of tears and tugged the cannula back out of his nose. He leaned back in his chair, feeling your hand trembling in his own. He heard you sob loudly as the words sunk in.

Across the table a few tears had escaped Luke’s eyes, the eyes he couldn’t tear off of Spencer. Grant was gripping his shoulder, clinging to his boyfriend while he silently cried. 

Down the line was a lot of gasps and cries he discerned as belonging to Penelope and JJ. He heard the mutterings of “oh kid,” from Rossi and various other sentiments from the others. 

“Oh my gosh, Spence.” JJ sobbed, he could imagine her holding her chest the way she did when she was sad.

“Is there anything we can do? Anything at all?” Tara was speaking now, tone laced with concern and heartbreak. 

“Boy wonder, my heart, my soul.” Garcia was crying too. 

More words came swarming down the line but Spencer couldn’t comprehend them. They all had a lot of questions but Spencer was too exhausted to answer them right now. 

He promised to stay in better touch with them and he would answer everything in due course but right now he was too overwhelmed and when he got overwhelmed his ghosts like to come out to play.

He was still getting used to his olanzapine and had slipped into one of his dissociative personas once or twice in the last few days but thankfully it was already starting to become few and far between. 

He heard the voices still regularly but mostly in his head and they didn’t often come to the surface. But maybe that was more due to the fact he had far more important things on his mind. 

After the call ended he took in the teary eyes around the table as he pushed his chair back. He grabbed the handles of his wheely canister to steady his shaking legs, the cannula still hanging around his neck. You jumped up and placed your hands on his chest. He bowed his head and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I just need some fresh air.” He mumbled to you with a small smile.

He knew he ought to be spending every second he could with you as come morning Luke would be taking you away. But right now he just needed a second to gather his raging thoughts before he became someone he didn’t want to be. 

He wheeled the oxygen out onto the back porch, Copper following behind him. He cautiously lowered himself to the swing chair and Copper jumped up, immediately curling up at Spencer’s side. 

Spencer’s breathing was a little fraught from the short walk but he tried to calm it himself rather than constantly relying on the blessed oxygen, no matter how much he might like to. He brushed his knuckles over the smooth coat of Copper’s neck trying to keep the others from taking over his rampant thoughts.

“This is all your own fault.”

“You have no one to blame but yourself.” 

“You’ve not just hurt yourself but the people you love too. You’re no better than any of us.”

Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore.

He cast his eyes out in the dark across the expanse of land down the hill. Eventually his breathing started returning to normal, or at least what was his new normal. He was surprised he was allowed any semblance of peace from the three of you but after a little while he heard the screen door open and close behind him. 

Spencer glanced up at the man who looked so much older than his years right then. Spencer imagined he didn’t look much better himself. Luke offered him a sorrowful smile as he pulled a wicker chair over to sit in front of him. 

“Hey,” Luke whispered, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. 

“Love you, you know that right, cariño?” Luke sniffed heavily.

“Love you too, querido.” Spencer sniffed too but it caused him to cough a few times before he managed to stem it.  

“Life is just so fucking unfair.” Luke shook his head, his sadness suddenly replaced with malice. “This shouldn’t be happening to you. After everything you’ve already been through this should not-”

“Luke,” Spencer’s wispy voice cut him off before he could start ranting. “It’s my own f-fault. I tried to dr-drown myself, this is my ret…ret…retribution. Probably shoulda just l-let me die.” 

“Don’t say that, please don’t say that.” Luke’s tears returned and scored hot and heavy down his cheeks. 

“I’m terminally ill, I don’t get to ma-make jokes?” Spencer smiled wistfully. 

“Only if they’re funny.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Do you want me and Grant to stay out here a little while? Just until you get yourself sorted with your meds and everything?” 

“No off-offence Luke, but that sounds incredibly fu-fucking awkward.” He panted. 

“Fair enough.” Luke agreed. “Is there anything I can do?” 

Not arrest my fiancé. Don’t take her away from me. 

“No,” Spencer shook his head, patting Copper’s back. “Right n-now I’d really just l-like to take Y/N to b-bed and try and not def-deflate a lung in the p-process.” 

“Now who's making it awkward?” Luke frowned, wiping his tears. “We’ll take the guest room downstairs tonight I think.”

“Appreciate it.” Spencer reinstated his cannula and Luke helped him to his feet while Copper jumped up too. 

The two men stood under the sky, beautifully alight with the glistening stars peppering the otherwise black blanket above them. 

Luke reached out and cupped Spencer’s jaw lightly and the younger man hummed at the contact. 

“I’ll always…always…” Luke choked. 

“I k-know.” Spencer breathed. “I’ll always t-too.” 

Luke nodded, leaning closer and brushing his lips across Spencer’s in the most featherlight kiss he could almost believe he imagined it. 

But he knew he hadn’t. 

Spencer was soon turning on his heels and wheeling his canister back towards the house with Copper trotting behind while Luke remained still on the porch. 

Once Spencer was gone he pulled his phone out again and redialled the familiar number. This time she answered on the second ring.

“Hey Alvez,” Emily Prentiss had without a doubt been crying no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

“Prentiss, sorry to just keep piling it on but…” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Effective immediately, I quit the BAU.” 

***

Spencer didn’t know if it was the lack of oxygen filling his shattered lungs that made him light headed or if that could be attributed to the fact he had just experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life.

He was on his back, panting around the cannula which was most certainly keeping him alive at that moment, staring at the ceiling while you laid next to him, curling into his side.

“I d-don’t have any wo-words.” Spencer breathed as you placed kisses on his bare chest. 

“Hmm, I did my job then.” You laughed a little wistfully. 

It was your last night together and Spencer wanted to feel everything with you before it was too late. So ignoring the voices in his head, he had finally succumbed to feeling your mouth around his shaft. 

It had been so long since he allowed someone to do that to him, he’d almost forgotten how incredible it could feel. You’d made him come in no time at all and you’d swallowed every last drop of him down. But he needed more. 

He lifted your head from his chest and kissed you, tasting the remains of his seed on your tongue. He rolled you on top of him and it was easy to feel he was already halfway to erect again. 

One hand took purchase on the back of your neck while he kissed you as fervently as his lungs would allow while the other dipped between your legs, gasping at how wet you were from simply pleasuring him. 

The gasp caused you to pull away from his lips, concerned he was struggling to breathe, which truthfully he was in spite of the cannula feeding him oxygen. His fingers slid between your folds as you looked down on him with slightly sad eyes.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” You whined as he brushed over your sensitive clit.

“I don’t care.” He shook his head. “Y/N, this is o-our last night together. I n-need to feel you on-one last time. P-please?” He whimpered in that breathy voice you were already growing so accustomed to.

“It could literally kill you Spen…oh fuck” You moaned as he pressed deftly against your bud. 

“I h-honestly don’t care. If th-this is how I die then I’ll con…consider myself a l-lucky man.”

“Don’t joke.” 

“Who’s joking?” He suddenly removed his hand from between your legs and wrapped it around his fully hard cock. “P-please princess, ri-ride me? We can go n-nice and slow and I’ll be f-fine.” 

Or I’ll die. But at least I’ll die doing what I love. 

“Spence, I really don’t want my last memory of you to be of you dying while I’m riding you.” You huffed. 

“If this whole t-thing has taught me a-anything it’s that our time is fin-finite. L-life is not a gu-guarantee. But love…love is infinite. And I l-love you more than wo-words can say. Let’s remember us this w-way.” He sucked in a breath around the cannula. “Whadda you say pr-princess? Hop on up here and g-give me something to rem-remember.” 

Your eyes were wet with tears as you looked down on him. Life was intrinsically unfair. In less than twelve hours Luke would be carting you away while Spencer was left here to die a slow and painful death. 

Time was finite, you knew that to be true now more so than ever. And if Spencer wanted you in that way one last time, who were you to deny him that. 

You bowed your head and captured his chapped lips in a kiss while moving his own hand aside so you could grip the base of his shaft. 

You lined him up with your entrance while sitting back on your haunches. Spencer’s eyes fell between your legs and he watched in slack jawed awe as he disappeared inside of you inch by glorious inch. 

He slowly bottomed out inside of you, your ass nestled on his thighs. He smiled up at you, breathing in through the cannula as he took in every intricate detail of your body. 

You were a work of art, sculpted by skilled hands just for him. You were magnificent in your beauty, an ethereal creature for whom he surely didn’t deserve. 

He loved every single tiny piece of you from your head to your toes and every wondrous curve in between. Even if your time together had been short, he treasured every second of it and would for the rest of his life, however long that might be. 

He gave you a soft nod, encouraging you to move. You were slow and steady in your movements, careful to listen out for any ragged breathing from him. 

Every time his pants got a little too violent you stilled to allow him to catch his breath. 

With each leisurely roll of your hips Spencer swore he felt himself ebbing impossibly deeper inside of you, reaching places he swore couldn’t be real. 

The gentle tapping of his blunt head against your cervix over and over again in a blissfully sluggish rhythm caused you to teeter closer and closer to your brink. 

Spencer held eye contact with you the whole time, laying perfectly still as he didn’t think his lungs could cope with any unnecessary movement. 

In truth his chest burned in agony with each aching intake of air but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the way you felt sheathed around him, rutting against him, clenching around him. 

By the time his second orgasm snuck up on him, pinching in the pit of his belly, he was light headed again but this time it was most certainly from lack of air. 

With a few more rocks of your pelvis you both came undone, reaching your peaks simultaneously. Spencer spilled his seed inside of you while your walls tightened around him, sending shockwaves through his entire body. 

You rode out your orgasms together but once you were starting to come down, you noticed the frantic heaving of Spencer’s chest and his slightly blue tinged lips. 

“Oh my gosh, Spence?” You threw yourself down to the bed, stroking his messy hair off his face. 

“I’m f-fine. S’fine.” He closed his eyes. 

“You're not fine!” You cried, gripping his face. 

“T-tired, okay? I’m s-sorry. Maybe…was a bit m-much. Worth it t-though. Okay. I’m o-okay…love y-you princess…”

You didn’t sleep. Not even a wink. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him all night. You stared at his chest to make sure he was breathing and if you couldn’t see any movement you’d hold your hand above his mouth and nose until you felt his breaths against your skin. 

The fear and adrenaline coursed through you at the thought of his lungs collapsing because of his insistence to have you one last time. 

The flood of relief washed over you when he opened his eyes the next morning, smiling sleepily up at you through his lashes. 

“You scared me to death last night.” You spoke in hushed tones. 

“Hmm, sorry p-princess.” He panted, his hand rising to entwine in your hair and draw you in for a kiss. 

You cuddled for a while draped in that sleep addled bliss before you both became painfully aware that your time was almost up.

You helped him shower, massaging every inch of his body much like you had done all those months ago back in Bandera. It seemed like another lifetime ago now. 

Afterwards you dressed and you assisted him carrying his canister downstairs, feeling much like you were walking the plank. 

Luke and Grant were already up, the front door was open and Copper puttered about on the porch while Grant heaved his suitcase into Luke’s rental. 

Luke was in the doorway and he turned when he heard the two of you heading down the stairs. He smiled a little wistfully at you both and stepped back inside. 

“Guess this is goodbye.” Luke shrugged at Spencer, holding his arms open for the other man. 

Spencer practically fell into them, nuzzling against Luke’s strong chest while the older man tucked him in his arms as though he was made of glass. 

“Stay in touch this time, please?” Luke whispered into Spencer’s ear.

“Promise.” He replied. 

As they were pulling apart, Grant headed back in, Copper hot on his tail. He smiled softly at Spencer with a small nod of his head. 

“Ready to hit the road, stud?” Grant nudged Luke’s arm. 

“Yeah, I think so.” Luke turned his attention to you. 

There was an indescribable look in his eyes, his lip quivering ever so slightly at the corner as you prepared for what came next. 

“Well, uh, take care then guys.” He offered you both a wave, wrapping an arm around Grant’s shoulder and turning them both back to the open door. 

You stared at the back of his head while Spencer looked frantically between you and Luke. Your heart was rampantly thumping against your chest, confusion riddled in your bones. 

“What’s…what’s going on?” You croaked out. 

Luke and Grant slowly turned back around, a curious look on Luke’s features. You were too busy looking at Luke that you didn’t notice the smile on Grant’s face. 

“What do you mean?” Luke’s lips puckered, forehead creasing. 

“You…you’re supposed to be arresting me.” You swallowed around your dry tongue. 

Luke and Grant exchanged a look before Luke turned back to you with a small shrug. 

“As of last night I no longer work for the FBI. So I guess I can’t.” 

“What?” Spencer breathed. “What d-do you mean?” 

“It was time for a change. Think I might work at one of those rehab facilities for veterans. Maybe train service dogs like Roxy, who knows. Guess the world is my oyster.” He shrugged again.

“You…I don’t understand what’s happening.” Tears flooded your vision, your bottom lip quivering. “If you don’t arrest me, your old partner will still be looking for me. I don’t…I don’t understand.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Luke’s lip twitched into a smirk. “I’ve got it covered. Just have a good life, okay? Both of you. Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness, god knows I got mine.” 

He glanced at Grant with a smile, entwining their fingers and giving his hand a small tug. 

“Shall we go, cariño?” 

“Please,” Grant replied.

You and Spencer watched them go in bewildered silence. You kept watching them until they were in Luke’s rental car, strapping themselves in and driving away down the gravel path. 

Finally you turned to Spencer, tears flowing heavily down both of your faces. It was hard to say which one of you crumbled first but suddenly you were in each other's arms, holding each other upright while you sobbed in the doorway of that old Victorian home. 

You had no way of knowing at the time, but four weeks later Spencer Reid would receive an email from someone called queenbabygirl72@prontonmail.com on his newly acquired laptop. The email would contain no message, simply three attachments. 

The first would be a death certificate promoting your name. The second, a birth certificate sporting your own date of birth alongside the name Elizabeth Reid. And the third would be a marriage licence declaring the union of the aforementioned Elizabeth Reid and Spencer Reid. 

And later when Spencer would call Luke and ask him about it, he would deny all knowledge of it. 

The two of you would make the decision to move away from Tombstone, as much as you loved the place, it wasn’t yours. You and Spencer’s fresh start would come in the form of Grant’s idea that he sell you and Spencer his old ranch. 

And so the two of you would live out your days back in Bandera on Grant’s family ranch, equipped with a summer house in which he and Luke would frequently vacation. Eventually you would acquire more horses and more cattle and even another dog to keep Copper company. 

But that was still all to come. 

For now, Spencer took hold of your hand and wheeling his canister in the other, the two of you headed down towards the stable, Copper running on ahead. You aided Spencer in mounting Willow, leaving his oxygen supplement behind and insisting he would be alright for a little trot down to the creek. You saddled up Rusty and with Copper still in toe, the five of you headed outside into the morning sunshine. 

Spencer reached over as the mares walked side by side and took hold of your hand, offering you a slightly wistful smile as he did so. There was no way of knowing how much time the two of you had left together, it was impossible to know how long Spencer had until his life was cut tragically short. 

But with any luck the two of you still had some wonderful years left ahead before you needed to worry about his diagnosis. And you would relish every single second of them. 

His hand squeezed yours tightly, his breathing a little heavy but he gave you a look that told you he was okay. The two horses took to the incline leading down through the trees towards the babbling brook beyond, Copper running happy little circles around Willow and Rusty.

You took in the beautiful morning, allowed yourself to relish in your own freedom for which you had been certain would end today. And you swore you would never take life granted again. 

You gently patted Rusty’s neck with your other hand, silently thanking her for knocking Spencer off of his horse all those months ago, for if she hadn’t the two of you would never have met.

It wouldn’t always be this way, there would still be some challenges along that broken road you travelled, but you would weather them together. Spencer still had a long way to go with his mental health and there would be blips, times in which the ghosts would rear their ugly heads and threaten to destroy everything he’d worked for. And of course understanding how to live with his illness would be a learning curve but he knew with you by his side, he could conquer anything. 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles as the five of you continued on your journey. You both still had a lot to learn, there would most certainly still be bumps in the road, but together the two of you could navigate just about any hurdle. 

And even if you couldn’t, it would still be okay. You were both still a little rusty, after all. 

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling @pleasantwitchgarden @djsjjsjsjsjsnsnsns @bringitonhomejohnb @chineray1234

[bbobpul]

stranded on the same ground — j. suh

NOTE. hey sorry for ghosting (again...) PAIRING. johnny suh x fem reader GENRE. hurt/comfort, angst SYNOPSIS. the entire process of getting over your ex, johnny suh (and meeting each other again) WARNINGS. profanity, mention of alcohol W/C. 4.8k

(⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ masterlist.

The morning of your breakup with your first-ever boyfriend isn’t as awful as you expected. Life went on like it usually does. Blinded by anger, you wished for your ex to have the most terrible, annoying, and awful day ahead and all the other days that followed. Call it childish, if you may. Call it a little bit immature when I say the two of you didn’t really end on bad terms. Your only worry after you parted ways was, ‘How could he fumble so badly? ’. You didn’t cry the morning after your breakup with Johnny Suh, but you did on a random Tuesday night when you saw the sticker he put on your tumbler. You cried again the following week when you found yourself walking on the same route you would always take with him on the way to the terminal when both of you had enough time before heading to work. 

It truly is the little details that bring you to tears. Not the broken promises and the plans you made together that you will never fulfill because you are used to those things, unfortunately, because you weren’t really that loved when you were younger, which is sad, and now that the only person that showed you affection is gone for the sole reason that ‘the two of you need more space to grow and move forward’. 

It’s all bullshit. And you hope he thinks the same. 

You hope he feels the same. You hope that every day he wakes up, he reaches his arm to the other side of the bed and realizes that you no longer lay beside him. You hope that every time he prepares the table, he gets two spoons and then realizes that he has to eat alone and not have anyone to talk about absurd things during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which leaves him no choice but to watch stuff on his phone. On top of that, you wish that his WI-FI doesn’t work, so he will be bored to death.

You sat at the lonely six-seater dining table so early in the morning. It’s been three months since you broke up with Johnny, and really, you don’t feel anything right now other than the desire to make this day as productive as possible, and you seem to be on a really great start. 

You woke up at 5 a.m. in the morning to go on a morning jog, and when you reached your desired time, you decided to stop by the bakery to grab yourself some pandesal. When you got home, it was almost 7, and you decided to use your espresso machine that has been sitting in your kitchen, praying to be used. The fact that today was your first time using it was very evident because you had to get a chair to get it from the highest counter, and the box that it came in is now covered with dust. And then it hit you.

That coffee maker was a gift from Johnny. No, you’re not going to cry. You wouldn’t let that little piece of equipment ruin your day. Even if it was an anniversary gift. Even if you know damn well, he saved up most of his salary to buy you that. And now you’re on the verge of tears as you remember the fact that you didn’t even get to thank him properly because that was also the day you broke up with him.

And now! Another! Day! Ruined! Thanks, Johnny Suh.

In the end, you decided to drink instant coffee.

You heaved a sigh, trying to contain yourself. No! You wouldn’t let that happen. He should be the one crying over this espresso machine because it’s so expensive. Hell, he knows you don’t even drink coffee. He bought this for himself and gave it to you, and now he can’t even take it back because you are no longer together. Ha! Take that, Johnny Suh.

But then again, Johnny Suh is rich as hell so he won’t be crying over a gift for his ex.

Moving on (something you obviously can’t do), your work as an architectural designer starts at 9 a.m., and for some weird reason, you wanted to look your best when going to work. After all, you are going to meet tons of clients (and you are running for senior architect, so obviously you gotta do a bit of sucking up to your superiors because you! need! the! money!).

So with your desire to get promoted and get more money, you decided to go to work an hour early.

God forbid nothing cliche happens when you are at work, like meeting your ex and having him as your client, because if your memory doesn’t fail you, my goodness, Johnny Suh talked about wanting to have his own house by the end of this year!

“Architect, meet Sir Johnny Suh.” You are fucked. Seeing him again was one of the scenarios you made on your way to work today, and you blame your mind for being imaginative to the point of manifesting him right in front of you. 

“I’ll be assigning you this project because this is a great opportunity for you to grow and improve.” Sounds familiar. Maybe because that’s what you told Johnny when you broke up with him. “I believe you are responsible enough to lead your own team, and this is your chance to demonstrate your skills,” your superior told you. It wasn’t very clear on your end because your ex is just a few feet away from you.

“Thank you, ma’am. I will do my best,” was all you could say. Your boss then left you alone with... him.

You stood there in shock, but you tried your best not to express it with your face, mainly because you didn’t want him to think that he still had an effect on you. You didn’t want him to think that his showing up at your workplace so early in the morning three months after your break up still has an effect on you. 

You thank the universe that some of your colleagues are late because if they were here, they would make fun of you until the sun sets. After all, they were the ones you drank with until your heartaches ended.

You looked at him and saw him looking at the displays in your work. You realized that this was his first time here. Throughout the course of your 7-year relationship, he never insisted on visiting, or maybe you just didn’t let him.

‘He looks.. well.’ You thought to yourself, and you don’t know why there was a hint of disappointment laced in the crevices of your brain. Could it be because he looks like he is doing a lot better than you or because he looks like he is doing a lot better without you? 

There he is, still standing tall, and here you are with all of your fears coming back to your system. The fear that led you to end everything, despite everything being good, If the reason you gave him that night wasn’t really clear on his part, it wasn’t clear to you either. After all, your mind was clouded with your low self-esteem, but it was a lot more than that. It was too much for you to take, and you just didn’t want to burden him anymore. He has a book of plans, and yours was paper thin due to your uncertainties. But is that even important now that everything is done?

You cleared your throat in an attempt to get his attention. “Let’s head to the conference room.” Putting your ex aside, this is a great opportunity for you to get promoted. You haven’t seen the project proposed by your client, but this is your chance to get the salary you deserve and your own office. After countless nights of working overtime and overextending yourself, it will all soon be worth it. You hoped.

Johnny Suh won’t ruin this chance.

You didn’t let the awkward walk to the conference destroy the harmony and creativity you could offer for this project, and the moment you sat on one of the chairs in the conference room, you didn’t waste any second asking, “What are your goals and objectives for this project? ”

Your immediate question didn’t surprise Johnny. You are the type of person who is very driven. And he knows that. Very well.

“I would want a space that is aesthetically pleasing and functional.” His answer exuded a lot of professionalism. Something you hope he maintains until the end of this project.”

“And what is the budget for this project?”

“As long as we don’t exceed tens of millions, though I don’t mind not staying within the budget only if it is very essential for the house.”

‘Tens of millions. He really has a lot of money, huh? ’ You thought. You look at the mood board on the folder handed to you by your boss, and right there you understand why he needed that much money. It’s almost a mansion! 

‘Why does he need a house this big? ’ You asked yourself. Maybe it’s for his family. He always mentioned wanting to build a house for his mom and dad so they would live closer to them and not experience the hassle of buying expensive tickets and tiring flights.

After more questions, you almost forgot that you were working with your ex. Maybe you don’t really care anymore. Maybe you didn’t care that he was starting to turn one of his plans into reality. A house? Such a big step into your 30s. While you go home every day to a small apartment that has been opening its doors for your big problems, Maybe in those three months, he already found the path while you were still navigating the route towards it.

You looked at his back as he stepped out of the room. A view you are strangely familiar with. Even if the results of your decision still haven't caught up to your life, change is very different in Johnny Suh. Change looks good on him.

You let out a small laugh when you remember the number of times you wished the worst for him. Turns out he is doing a lot better now that you are gone from his life. Aside from that, he didn’t sound affected at all. It’s just you who is still stranded on the same ground.

But there is something you can’t deny. Not blinded by anger anymore. You are really proud of him.

After the meeting, you gathered your team. You hired an engineer and an assistant. You also consulted a group of construction workers willing to work on the project. It's the productive day you wished for.

As the day came to an end, you received a text message from him.

Please be at the groundbreaking ceremony. It’s nothing big but it would be nice to have you there.

The message read. As much as you didn’t want to go, he is still your client and you need to, for the harmony of the team.

I will be there. You typed on your phone as you waited for a cab to stop in front of you. This is the closure you needed. This is the closure you need to move on from your paper-thin plans and actually move forward with real, concrete plans. It doesn’t matter if you are navigating the route alone; as long as you know, when you walk towards the path you promised him, you will carry no regrets. You will know that it was for the better.

The 20 minutes you spent inside the taxi were more excruciating than that random Tuesday night when you first cried over the two of you. It’s bittersweet in the sense that you no longer feel angry about your own choices and feel sad because you have come to the realization that you no longer have the right to pry into his choices. He wants to build a house. Good for him. He specifically asked for you to design his house. Fucking great. It totally doesn’t feel like he is doing this to make you feel bad. But knowing Johnny, he is not the type of person to hold a grudge. If he loved you in the past, then he has no reason to hate you in the future, despite not being a part of it anymore. 

And the day of the groundbreaking ceremony came quickly. You wore your best clothes to look as presentable as possible, and as expected, the moment you stepped foot onto the site, the cool breeze was the first one to welcome you. The 500-square-meter lot was surrounded by trees inside a gated community. It's a very secluded area. You wouldn't expect this to be in the middle of the city. The walls and trees hovering over the houses are enough to muffle the noises from the highway.

"Hey there, it's good to see you," Johnny greeted you warmly, his smile stretching wide across his face. You reciprocated with an equally warm smile. Despite only seven simple words passing between you, the air seemed to thicken with emotions, leaving you momentarily breathless. Johnny's presence was striking, a stark contrast to the person you had parted ways with three months prior. 

"Ah, well, I couldn't possibly leave a client hanging," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to shake off the sudden intensity of the moment. You blamed your tardiness on traffic, a common excuse but one that felt feeble in this instance.

Johnny's laugh was soft and understanding. "No worries, I completely understand," he reassured you.

The exchange hung in the air, followed by a brief but poignant silence. It was as though the unspoken weight of the time apart and the changes that had occurred in both of your lives weighed heavily in the space between you, mingling with the anticipation of what was to come.

"Hey, are you feeling hungry at all? There's a sandwich over there if you're in the mood. Oh, and by the way, Engineer Lee is currently in the tent."

“Not really,  I will just take a look around the lot. Thanks”

The ceremony started earlier than originally planned. You stood at the back with your friend Ten, who is also the engineer you hired for this project. You watched Johnny with his parents, holding a golden shovel, marking the ground as the start of the construction process. Materials are all set, and the design is already settled. The workers will be present on the site tomorrow, and they will start working on the foundation of the house. 

You let out a sigh of relief when Johnny’s parents didn’t notice you at the ceremony. Maybe it’s because of the new haircut, or you really just didn’t want to be seen. But that really is inevitable when Johnny and his family are inviting the entire team for dinner at their house. And Ten has been pushing you to at least say hi to them. After all, the family didn’t do anything wrong to you.

“Just go to them and say hi!” He said as he slightly pushed you towards them. Your eyes were glued to the family. They were laughing, and his mother looked very happy as she fixed her son’s hair. You are used to seeing them like this. They were like your second parents at the end of the day.

You mustered your courage and walked towards them. You don’t know why you are so nervous about greeting them when they’ve only given you nothing but love.

“Hi, auntie, uncle.” You greeted them with a genuine smile plastered on your face. They turned to look at you in surprise.

“Oh my goodness, honey. You didn’t tell me that the best architect in town will be in charge of the house,” his mother said before engulfing you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around the older lady and laughed in response. You exchanged eye contact with his father before smiling and nodding at him, and after that, your gaze fell on Johnny, who was looking at the both of you with emotions whirling around his face—something you cannot quite paint. He was smiling, but his eyes looked very different. You brushed it off with the reason that you guys haven’t seen each other for months. What rights do you have to dictate the emotions in his eyes?

“How have you been, darling?” His mother asked you with so much gentleness laced in her voice. Her eyes scanned every part of your face.

“I am doing great, auntie. How are you?” 

“Well, I am really thrilled for our new house! And to have you design our home, ugh, it’s like a dream come true.” She said, and you gave her a small smile. “I saw how much you worked hard to get where you are right now, and I am so proud to see how far you’ve come.” She continued as you both slowly walked away from Johnny and her husband. 

You could only hum in response. Overwhelmed by the love and appreciation she is showering you with. You looked at your hand; she was squeezing so tightly, and you realized that the moment you lost Johnny, you also lost the mother who has showered you with love ever since.

"Listen, I know whatever happened between you and my son is no longer my place to pry into, but I just want to ask you to try and settle things. I understand he can be a bit stubborn, but if you two can't reconcile romantically, at least try to maintain a friendship," she said unexpectedly, catching you off guard with the sudden turn in conversation. You gazed at her, unsure of where she was leading with this.

"You're the one who understands him better than anyone else, who knows the deepest corners of his heart. It'll be difficult for him to find someone else like you," she continued, her words carrying a weight of sincerity as she held your gaze. "He loves you dearly, my dear."

"I loved him too, auntie. But sometimes parting ways is for the best. I hope you can understand that," you replied softly, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness.

"You know I'll always understand," she reassured you, her tone gentle and understanding.

"Thank you for everything, and for trusting me with this house," you expressed your gratitude sincerely.

"Honey, trust me when I say it was all him. He trusted you with this house," she replied warmly.

Dinner with the future house owners came and went and now it was time for goodbyes. There wasn’t much talk while you were eating. You were just enjoying the switching conversations in your surroundings. You would answer when they asked you questions  but you don’t actively participate in the discussion.

"Thank you for dining with us, Engineer Lee, and honey," Mrs. Suh addressed both of you with a warm smile. "Thank you so much for coming."

"It's my absolute pleasure, auntie. Thank you so much for having me," you responded with genuine gratitude, your smile reflecting the warmth of the evening.

"I'll get going, ma'am, sir," Ten interjected, offering to drive you home. You glanced at him, mustering a condescending smile, and mouthed, 'I can handle myself.'

"You sure?" he persisted, concern evident in his voice.

"Yep, don't worry," you reassured him.

"Okay. Bye, everyone. Thank you so much for this amazing night," Ten bid farewell, expressing his gratitude to the gathered company before making his exit.

"Uh, I can drive you home," Johnny offered as Ten's car exited the gate.

"Oh, no, no nee—" you began to decline, but Mrs. Suh intervened.

"Yes! Yes, drive her home. You commute, right? You know it's dangerous for you to commute, especially late at night. So yeah, take her home, Johnny," she insisted, her concern for your safety overriding any objections you might have had.

You can never, and I mean never, decline any offer from Mrs. Suh. She has always been persistent, and that is one of her charms. Something Johnny didn’t get from his mom. You can never say no to her, not in the way that she will get mad or upset if you decline; she is just so good at it.

You took a deep breath and let out a smile, “Okay.”

And there you were, in your ex’s car, three months after your breakup.

It was like your throat was dry because of the coldness inside the car. You couldn’t bring yourself to utter a word, and the same thing goes for the man driving. The route to your apartment is something you have memorized so well, and now it is mixed with the familiar, clean scent of his car and the feeling of relief that you are going home with the person who was once the love of your life. It’s very familiar. 

Because it was all you lived for in those seven years.

You worked your best because the thought of going home with him and telling him about your day is what you lived for all those years. You worked your best because you wanted the best for the both of you without knowing it’s what would break the two of you. Maybe it was the overwhelming amount of socialization you did earlier, but now you could admit that you were insecure. You were insecure about him having so many plans and being so sure of his future with you while you worked tirelessly at a job you were not sure deserved you. You wanted the best for him, and you just didn’t have the capability to be the best for him. You wanted more for yourself because he made you feel small. Not intentionally on his side. You can now admit that it’s totally your problem. He never did anything wrong. You just think he is too good for you. And you wouldn’t let him have a future with someone like you. 

You wouldn’t want him to live in a future that is uncertain.

“Engineer Lee mentioned something about paint and tile picking tomorrow for the interior.” He took the upper hand and broke the silence. You looked at him and nodded your head.

“Yeah, uhm, you can tag along if you want.” You regret saying that. Why did you immediately assume he wanted to come with you? 

“I was going to ask about that. Okay, I will go tomorrow.” He responded, and then silence hit the both of you for the nth time. 

Friday, rush hour, everyone desperate to go home, and you were one of them.

You wish Johnny would just drive faster so he wouldn’t have to sit in the painful silence, but the traffic wouldn’t let him. 

You made a concerted effort to keep your gaze away from him, determined not to let your neck betray your curiosity. Despite your best efforts, fate seemed to have other plans, and against your will, your muscles betrayed you, turning your head to face him. To your surprise, you found him already looking at you, his gaze meeting yours in a brief moment before both of you looked away at the same time. 

You want him to ask if you are doing well. You want him to ask how you’ve been in those times you weren’t together. You want to see him desperately get to know you again in those times he missed your presence. You want him to ask, or at least say something. You want him to initiate a conversation. You want to know if he still cares about the choices you’ve been making. You want him to ask about the little things happening in your life, just like before.

But he didn’t.

Until you reached your building, he didn’t ask anything.

From days to weeks, until it became months of working together, nothing much happened. Totally not that closure your foolish ass expected. Honestly, why were you even expecting anything? Now that months have passed and it’s been a year since you ended everything, I don’t know why you are still expecting anything when you don’t even know what you want to happen.

Sure, he would casually talk to you when he’d drive to the site to visit. Sure, he would buy you breakfast or lunch, but you are not the only one. You are working for him, and he is paying you. He wants you to do a great job, and of course he would treat you well. Sure, he would still invite you to dinner with his family, but he would also invite Engineer Lee. 

On the other hand, Johnny has been making extra efforts to make you comfortable after that night. Not expecting anything in return, maybe his mother was right. A little effort will make a friendship between the two of you blossom. After all, it’s a very essential thing when you are working together. But he can’t help but notice that after that night on the road with you, you were being a little more cautious than usual. As if you were walking on eggshells around him. He understands that you feel sorry for what happened, but he isn’t the type of person to dwell in the past now that you are still here in the present.

You have been very ignorant of the fact that he is trying to mend things between the two of you, and now that the project has almost come to an end, with Johnny seeing you as oblivious to his efforts, maybe he should try a bit harder.

If only you knew. If only the both of you knew how much you hoped something would happen that night when he drove you home. If only one of you asked something. But let us not dwell on what could have been; you are here, and this is the last day of construction. They are only installing the lights outside and painting the exterior walls. 

Like many other nights before, no one took the initiative. As always. The two of you might be so used to it by now.

The housewarming event came up next, and both of you knew this was your last chance. This marks the end of the project and the opportunity to mend the broken hearts you left each other with.

After working hard for years, you finally got the promotion you wanted. You proved yourself with a project they assigned you, and he was somehow involved too. But all the credit goes to you. You worked really hard to find the best supplier and design the house they wanted.

You've accomplished the first and final wish you made for him. Now, you don't owe him anything anymore. You designed his first house and have become a better version of yourself in the process. Perhaps that was the closure you needed—not just with him, but with yourself too.

And you were fine with just that. You didn’t want to expect anything anymore.

You made sure to greet all the people you worked with throughout this project, and you didn’t forget to express your gratitude to the team that supported you and showed patience every step of the way.

As you socialize with more people, Johnny, who has been observing you the entire time, has a genuine smile on his face. ‘Change looks good on you,’ he said to himself. He can’t help but be proud. He doesn't have any reason not to. You look the happiest right now, and as someone who knows all your dreams, this is a check in the box among many others. 

He made the right decision by picking you as his architect. Other than being good at what you do, he saw this project as an opportunity for you to really get what you want, and the reason why you ended things with him was growth. He knows how much you need that push in your life. He knows how much you need something to happen in your life. Even if it means losing you. Even if it means not being with you every step of the way, He is happy for you and the change you made in that one year.

Amidst the bustling crowd, you locked eyes with him and offered a smile, prompting him to raise his champagne glass in acknowledgment. With purpose, you made your way through the gathering until you stood beside him on the balcony of the freshly constructed house, both admiring the view of the garden below.

For several moments, silence enveloped you both, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Thank you for your brilliance, architect," he finally said, breaking the silence.

"It's my pleasure," you responded, the words carrying a sense of fulfillment.

"As an extra payment, can I take you out to lunch tomorrow?" His offer brimmed with confidence, breaking the quietude with a hint of anticipation.

“How could I ever say no to that, Mr. Suh? ”

[megumimania]

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES - ryomen sukuna

summary: your boyfriend hates modern technology.

warnings: sukuna x fem reader, sukuna is an old hag (affectionately), sukuna not fucking with consumerism is he in his marxist era?🤔, sukuna is a softie when he wants to be, sukuna is ooc because i hate writing mean men :), yuji being a hottie is my fav hc of all time, i can’t believe im giving amazon free promo 😞.

notes: i missed you guys!

sukuna cant wrap his head around technology.

he doesn’t understand why companies sell ‘new’ phones every single year, when they perform the same exact functions as the previous one.

he doesn’t like how your coffee machine has too many buttons when all he wants in the morning is just a cup of black coffee to get him through the day. sukuna just prefers doing things the old fashioned way which makes him subject to teasing by you and his little brother yuuji.

he doesn’t care though, constantly talking about how he’s ‘escaped the matrix’ by not owning an up to date phone and only getting his news from the daily paper and tv. however his view on technology changed once you brought alexa home.

initially he thought that it was a speaker and was confused to why you bought another one. “it’s not just a speaker ryo,” you corrected him swiftly. “she’s a digital assistant that can tell you the time, the weather, recipes and she can even tell jokes.”

sukuna looked at you with the same wariness he’d give to a snake oil salesman. “can’t your phone do the same exact thing for less?” you knew he was lowkey right but your stubbornness refused to let him get the upper hand.

“that’s not the point babe.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, carrying the box to the kitchen counter and setting it down with a loud thump. “now if you’ll excuse me i’ll be busy setting my alexa up.” you huffed as you opened the instructions trying to make sense of them.

sukuna looked over at your focused expression. your brow furrowed with concentration as you read the instructions. it was simple really and within a couple of minutes the alexa was ready to go and by the joyous look of pride on your face sukuna knew that he was going to be in for one hell of a ride.

and unfortunately he was right.

life with an alexa was hell. sukuna barely got through the day without hearing the monotone female voice rattle off the hottest food spots or tell you a stupid joke that was suddenly the most funniest thing alive. he used to make you laugh like that!

he felt like the speaker was taunting him. hell he couldn’t even have some down time with you without that stupid speaker getting in the way. it was literally like he was third wheeling all the time and he hated it. you were his girlfriend first!

sukuna didn’t like being second best. especially to a glorified speaker.

you and sukuna were cuddling on the couch together after finishing a movie—terminator 2 to be exact. “so what do you think of the alexa?” you asked whilst the credits rolled, mindlessly stroking his cheek with your acrylic nails whilst he rubbed your legs.

sukuna tensed at the question as he tried to think of a way to answer without sounding like a complete asshole. “well…im not really a fan.” you could already tell from the dry tone and his poor attempt of acting unfazed that he was lying through his teeth.

“if that’s the case then why did i find it in the bathtub?” you pulled up the waterlogged alexa in a ziploc bag. sukuna would usually have a sarcastic reply in his arsenal but he was now looking at you as if he was a deer caught in headlights.

“fine, i used the damned thing.” he raised his hands up as he accepted defeat much to your surprise. “it fell into the bathtub when i was trying to stream that megan the stallion song yuuji told me to listen to. he said something about the song needing to go number 1 on the charts.”

you sat back in disbelief. you didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry or smitten with him. “i’m glad yuji is helping you become more cultured but why did my alexa have to die for such a good cause!” you wailed dramatically collapsing on the floor, clutching the alexa to your chest.

sukuna lifted you off the floor with such ease it almost made you jealous. “stop whining i already ordered another one. it should be coming in a few days.” he said with his usual gruff tone that was laced with softness, peppering kisses down your neck.

you giggled as his stubble tickled your skin. “that was quick, you missed it that much already?” you teased him whilst you hooked your arms around him running your nails down the nape of his neck.

sukuna rolled his eyes at your playful expression. “i’m still anti technology, don’t be fooled.” one thing sukuna was to his core was a hater but like most haters he rarely stood on business.

“whatever you say babe.” you hummed biting back a smile. you and sukuna knew give or take two months that he’d change his opinion about it.

[aura2023]

👉👈 do you have more content from your DW/Hijack crossover?

[ Edit January 2024 -> This was an ask from june 2023. I didn't realized that I left this ask in the drafts for more than 7 months and didn't post it. I'm so sorry anon :,( ]

Hello! And yes i do! Here are some of the sketches :D I don't have written down how i want the interactions between the characters to be yet. I choose the 10th doctor for now but i'm still in doubt of which regeneration i want hiccup to meet

I don't have like an AU or a story planned (? but i can share some little ideas under the cut.

The first time they meet is by accident. Hiccup and toothless got separated. It's the night fury the one that hears a strange sound. Following it into a cave there were dragons in cages along with a man with strange clothes opening those cages. The man sees the dragon and greets it, He calls himself The doctor. And tells toothless to get away before the dragon trappers get back to the cave.

The doctor invites hiccup and toothless to travel with him. Promising an adventure not only far away from the archipielago, but far away in the stars. When they see the tardis for the first time hiccup couldn't believe that it was bigger inside. He even started to take measures and making notes.

Hiccup learns that the doctor can speak dragon. He watches as the doctor and toothless hold a very long conversation. When he asks about it the doctor just says "Isn't it obvious? I speak dragon. Don't worry toothless was just saying good things. " Hiccup wants to learn dragon speech.

Hipo at first goes traveling with the doctor without telling anyone since they can go back home 5 minutes after leaving, time travel stuff. This is perfect for hiccup, he can go and have this crazy adventures without compromising his duties as the son of the chief.

Of course if you are observant you would notice that the boy started to became more taller really fast, and when asked about things that happened in the day he wouldn't remember those very well. This starts making problems.

- Hiccup and toothless go with the doctor and see different worlds, space whales and dragons surfing through the stars. The technology and the change of scenery can be too much but they are de terminated to explore and learn.

For the hiccup and jack ship in this Doctor who crossover.

This is in our time present (2023). When jack first appears, he is like a ghost. Can't be seen so he is always alone. Like a wind. He spends his time doing pranks and helping missing kids go back home.

His body is trapped in an old alien machine but his mind is " roaming free" in the world. That machine is inside an alien spaceship that fell into the earth many years ago. Jack "found it" when he fell into the frozen lake +/- 300 years ago. Jack like in the movie has seen the world go forward.

Jack can't go time travel into the TARDIS since his connection with his body will be broken. They can still travel around the globe.

In between adventures Hiccup and the doctor visit Jack. It's the most "normal life adventures" they can get lol. Jack teaches Hiccup about the technology and what the 21st century has to offer. Videogames, comics, how he spooks people in old buildings. Hell they can even go and urban exploration. Stop the typical alien invasion with the doctor. Jack meeting toothless. Hiccup talking about his life back at berk and his adventures with the doctor.

One day a group of aliens attacks a city searching for this machine. The doctor alongside Hiccup, Toothless and Jack try to stop the enemies plan. They discover the machine and that jack's body is inside of it. If the enemy finds it they will kill jack in order to use it themselves, the doctor wanted to destroy the machine but now they now is the only thing that is keeping jack "alive."

Now i don't know what they will do after that. Haven't thought much about it. But i know that i want Hiccup to meet both jack in the future, and in the past (before getting trapped in the machine) Maybe he does time after jack is gone. The doctor takes Hiccup 300 years in the past and meets Jackson Overland the week before he falls into the lake and into the machine.

He can´t stop what's going to happen to Jack but he can prolong it. So one day he asks him if he would like to join them. He does. Until jack decides to go back with his family and the day after that he falls into the ice.

I'm sorry that Jack/Hiccup doesn't have a happy ending. My friends told me that i can be a little angst machine.

Edit January 2024 -> I kinda remember that i made another ending but i can't remember where i wrote it. I'm so sorry anon, perdoname por las tardanzas y las respuestas largas. And please forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes and not correct use of words. Tried my best.

[rishiguro]

EVANESCENT; MASTERLIST

evanescent (/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/) — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

—an iwaizumi hajime x reader series

GENRE: angst. some fluff and crack to lighten the mood.

WARNINGS: tragedy. major character death. discussions about (terminal) illnesses, death, medical terms, pancreatic cancer and copd. hospitals. language (swearing and suggestive). jokes about illnesses and death. passive suicidal ideation. pet names and insults. atsumu gets bullied (but tbh they all bully each other). mention and consumption of alcohol.

TAGLIST: open. comment to be added — dni rules apply

NOTE: please notify me if any information provided in the info posts (at the bottom) is inaccurate. i‘m no medical professional. this is pure fiction and not based on any real events or people. time stamps are not random.

DISCLAIMER: haikyu!! characters are owned by haruichi furudate. any pictures used are not mine and are there for inspiration only.

INFO: mix of smau and written content. chapters with “✎﹏” include written content. currently replacing the images in chapters 28-43 -> please read the psa on dark & light mode use.

TEASER

INTRODUCTION

(y/n)‘s group | iwaizumi‘s group

CHAPTERS

01; the hot stranger

02; “i didn’t miss this”

03; vending machines ✎﹏

04; dms

05; “absolutely not”

06; date

07; “boyfriend???” ✎﹏

08; rain check

09; apologies ✎﹏

10; “definitely more than friends”

11; “it’s not like i’m dying”

12; visit ✎﹏

13; communication

14; “you look like shit”✎﹏

15; surgery

16; “who are you?” ✎﹏

17; kyoutani kentaro

18; “so who are they?” ✎﹏

19; new steps

20; “wdym he isn’t your boyfriend?”

21; comfort ✎﹏

22; exams

23; “finally”

24; date ✎﹏

25; “totally not your boyfriend”

26; results

27; good news ✎﹏

28; adulting

29; “how’s life?”

30; “allergic to doctors”

31; collapse ✎﹏

32; “i screwed up” ✎﹏

33; back to business

34; “being an adult really sucks”

35; not the full truth

36; love ✎﹏

37; welcome home

38; “i should have a private room”

39; “he doesn’t know?”

40; stage iv ✎﹏

41; “fancy add-ons”

42; daily life

43; bad jokes ✎﹏

44; “brownies? or cookies?”

45; overwhelmed ✎﹏

46; no contact

47; “i’m scared” ✎﹏

48; pinky promise ✎﹏

49; “this is boring”

50; special

51; transferred ✎﹏

52; helpless

53; “wait, you’re going to die?” ✎﹏

54; “i don’t want to talk about it”

55; “i’m not letting you do this alone” ✎﹏

56; tired ✎﹏

57; best friend

58; assistance ✎﹏

59; “i don’t want to die” ✎﹏

60; “since when are nurses hot?”

61; friendship

62; “see you tomorrow”

63; “what?” ✎﹏

64; “i need you”

65; denial

66; visit ✎﹏

67; evanescent

THE END

EXTRAS

about copd | about pancreatic cancer

playlist

STATUS: ongoing. irregular updates.

[intergalactic-garbage]

octavian wet cat headcanons

@odysseus-crewmate-number38 and i have decided that there has been enough of rick's writing which transparently only made octavian an object onto which to project hate, rather than a character. because i am the sexiest and smartest person on the planet, i understand octavian better than rr, and know that what he is actually meant to be is a traditionally queer-coded, camp, homosexual villain, who enjoys being a villain immensely. the following are a compilation of ody and mine's absolutely true and fully verified octavian facts (he told me):

his little augur rituals are like drag performances

in which i don't means he dresses up in drag but rather that he's exaggerated and dramatic

he does the thing where he rubs his grubby little hands together

he's the type to say "well well well look what the cat dragged in"

light in the office opens dramatically as octavians spinny chair turns to the door

’i’ve been expecting you’

he’s done this 12 times already

he says the same name of. the person who hes been expecting. he eventually is right

WHY does octavian's wiki page say his ancestors are VENUS, JUPITER (also apollo obviously) and. a bunch of mortal guys like hercules? what the fuck. guy must be so inbred

his ancestory is just the olympus family tree

but i mean he's a legacy of venus so that explains everything. he's just suffering from a terminal amount of prettyboy syndrome

octavian would wear so much gold. 90 pounds soaking wet 138 pounds with all his robes and jewelery on

he'd get things covered in gold leaf just because he can

his closet takes up the space of like three entire barracks of the cohort

‘where did the funding for the new buildings in camp jupiter go’ . new suspiciously closet shaped building implemented:

BRO COMMITS EMBEZZLEMENT JUST SO HE CAN BUY NEW OUTFIT

not that he doesn't already have enough money. he just likes doing it like this

nobody else is allowed to touch his clothing though. high treason actually

one of his henchmen (bryce) can bc he knows exactly how to handle it and which setting on the washing machine to use with which detergent

oh he’d watch the devil wears prada and base his personality on the boss from that movie

his room has a shrine dedicated to meryl streep actually .reyna accidentally walks in on him once and sees him praying to her. they never talk about it

octavian could deify miranda if he tries hard enough

oh my goddd. do you think his biggest internal conflict during hoo would be "can a girl like me really have more than ONE evil henchman?"

how is he going to strut down the halls in an iconic triad formation if he only has ONE henchman . he has to follow in his ancestors footsteps (heather chandler, chanel oberlein, regian george-)

his henchman no1 is michael kahale, son of venus, who's canonically fit as fuck and pretty close to octavian, headcanonically a gayboy who rolls his eyes and sips his starbucks drink waaaay too loudly when people he doesn't like are talking (he does this in the senate meetings)

his henchman no2 is bryce lawrence, legacy of orcus, god of punishment, who was canonically banished from camp jupiter bc he killed someone, but in boo, octavian takes him back. he's supposed to be really big and burly, with some "traditionally unattractive" traits (which i've decided to allow, as long as michael and octavian call them pretty in a totally infatuated way)

edit: someone said that since he doesn't have a last name, it should be octavian gallo (since it means rooster), and i'm making that canon now

[wazzappp]

@rokhal okay so you see heres the problem. You asked too many good questions so I opened a google doc to answer them and then things just got going and then I ended up with an entire summary of the story I have so far.

ALSO thank you @moosemonstrous for helping me puzzle through my fugnking ramblings

Also it is IMPORTANT that you know I had this song on repeat the entire time I was plotting my nefarious schemes

OKAY SO. I’m thinking Robbie is some sort of specialized stealth unit. He was originally designed for high level infiltration but was repurposed by the human resistance in the future. He has skin with a metal endoskeleton just like the usual terminators but he ALSO has those nanobots that allow him to heal at the same pace as a normal human. They also would help with repairing any damage to internal systems like wiring. They could also be what repurposes food to grow his metal endoskeleton. I’m debating on whether he can manually speed that up for an accelerated healing process because that would require a level of control over his machinery that I’m not sure it would make sense for him to have right after figuring out he’s a machine. Maybe with some practice he could do it. OHHHHH OR IF HES IN SOME SORT OF ‘EMERGENCY DEFENSE’ MODE IT ACCELERATES AUTOMATICALLY THAT COULD BE FUN!!! 

Also I really like the idea of him being able to heal with those nanobots but like. SPECIFICALLY for Gabe. They’re programmed to create synthetic flesh and skin but only for certain genomes. His and Gabes are similar enough that they can help repair tissue if he’s injured. Like being a blood donor for matching blood types.

STORY WISE HERE’S WHAT IM THINKING: Eli still exists in this universe and he’s still a massive shithead. Still pushes Mama Reyes down a flight of stairs while pregnant with Gabe (their soon to be first child), still a serial killer and still involved with the mob. But shortly after Gabe is born, Eli is caught and sentenced to prison for life. The mob figures he told his brother’s family so that makes them a liability. They kill Alberto and Julianna, but leave Gabe alone in his crib. This happens when he’s about 6 months old.

While this is happening, Robbie is time traveled into the back yard of their house. He goes inside and puts on whatever clothes he can find. When police show up to check after getting a noise complaint from the neighbors, they find what looks to be a 5 year old boy soothing a crying baby and a massive burned hole in the backyard they think is just some sort of already detonated explosive. Everyone just assumes this kid is his brother and they try to get him out of the house without letting him see his dead ‘parents’. He doesn't talk much but does answer that his name is Robbie when asked. 

Things get REALLY weird when they go to the police station and find… absolutely nothing about him. No birth certificate, no social security number, no history of schooling, not even their notoriously nosy neighbors know anything about him. The Reyes’s had not marked down a dependent on their tax forms until Gabe.  Even when they look at the possibility of him being an undocumented immigrant; NOTHING. Half the guys think he’s an illegal alien that slipped through the cracks of.. EVERY country and the other half think he’s an ACTUAL alien For all intents and purposes the kid in front of them does not exist. Eli isn’t much help when asked, he just assumes ‘that bitch of his turned him against me didn’t even tell me that I had a nephew already here god DAMN her’. 

They quickly start questioning whether they're actually brothers, but genetic tests determine that they are. That, and the absolute INSISTENCE of the boy that ‘This is my brother. I HAVE to keep him safe’.

So they do what just about anyone might do. Decide this weird magically appearing child is someone else’s problem, and put them into foster care. From there the story stays about the same for a while. They know Eli exists but they honestly couldn't give less of a shit about him. That guy is never getting out on parole lmao. Robbie catches up with social development and for the most part fits in pretty good (he never gets sick. Like ever. Never gets so injured he has to go to the doctor for emergencies. Just regular checkups, which he passes through with a few raised eyebrows but still good). He’s still a GENIUS with cars and works at Canelos. He understands them in a way that usually takes years of experience way beyond what Robbie has. Things are going.. Not GREAT but they’re okay. And then AMADEUS FUCKIGN SHOWS UP.

Skynet of the future has sent back a Terminator to kill Gabe. No one is really sure WHY but they figure if skynet is going to such lengths to kill this kid then he must be worth protecting. So the human resistance sends back Amadeus to find Gabe and keep him safe from this Terminator. 

He steals some clothes, a gun and a car(not like hes really planning on settling down here anyway who cares about a few broken laws)  shows up at the Reyes residence, meets Gabe.. and basically all his plans blow up. This is absolutely NOT the type of person he was expecting and he sure as shit doesn't want to go anywhere with this random stranger. So naturally he kidnaps Gabe and starts getting the fuck out of the city (while also starting work on an electromagnetic field reader that he thinks can help detect terminators).

Robbie shows up back home after grocery shopping and uhhhhh Gabes NOT THERE theres BROKEN SHIT IN HIS HOUSE and the neighbors keep talking about a STOLEN CAR and some maniac who stole from a GUN SHOP. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of, checks Life 360 hoping that Gabe still has his phone on him (he does) gets into his car and starts hunting them down. Between his crazy driving skills and freakish persistence, Amadeus can only conclude that Robbie is the terminator sent to kill Gabe.

When Robbie finally heads them off at an abandoned warehouse Amadeus tries to pull Gabe along with him and run away. But when Robbie steps out of his car, Gabe recognizes him and starts trying to get there. Amadeus is panicked, pointing his gun at Robbie to try and keep him away and, at this point, VERY confused. Because he’s pulled out his EMF reader and is getting some absolutely WACK readings off Robbie but hes also very much so being deterred by the gun (terminators couldnt gibe two shits about guns thlse metal fuckheads eat bullets for breakfast). The readings shortly get even more wack when the ACTUAL Terminator sent to kill Gabe shows up. Amadeus fires a couple of shots into the Terminator to confirm what he already knew (subsequently freaking both Robbie and Gabe out sufficiently enough to confirm that at least Amadeus isn’t entirely crazy). They pile into the Reyes-mobile and peel off shortly before the terminator gets into Amadeus’ abandoned stolen car and starts going after them.

Robbie is doing his best to ask what the FUCK is actually going on while getting away but Amadeus is still double checking his EMF readings because Robbie is DEFINETLY not human but also clearly isn’t here to kill Gabe. Quickly puts two and two together that for SOME reason SOMEhow Robbie is here to PROTECT Gabe from this other Terminator. Amadeus is. A little distracted because of this and keeps asking Robbie about his ‘Programming’ (sort of a “WOW your programming must be good you REALLY think he’s your brother and thats WHY you have to protect him!” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHO WAS THAT GUY HOW DID HE KEEP WALKING AFTER YOU SHOT HIM” “It was a terminator keep up. Hey did you even TRY to call the police or did you just start coming after me because you knew it would be faster? Cause damnnnnn again. PROGRAMMING!”)

After finally losing the terminator that’s been on their tail, they find the police are not too happy about their reckless driving, arrest them and take them to the station to keep in a holding cell. While Robbie is in said holding cell with Amadeus (Gabe is presently being asked questions) there’s a police officer who recognizes him as that weird little kid who just appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah we had absolutely NOTHING on you. It was like you hadn't existed until the day we found you!” So Robbie has to sit and listen to this while Amadeus is just confirming in his head what he already figured out. Being stuck in that cell trying to stay in denial with the guy whose favorite thing to say in the world is ‘I Told You So’ is not great. (un)Fortunately this is when the actual terminator shows up again.

This time, being faced with both the Terminator AND police trying to stop him from leaving, Robbies defense systems activate. He goes absolutely HAM on everyone in his way. He’s extremely default Terminator-like (Emotionless, distant, empty, quiet) in this state because all of his infiltration protocols have been halted. He even manages to fight off the other terminator decently well, but not before getting blasted in the arm with a shotgun shell. It goes deep enough that his metal endoskeleton is revealed. I also had this idea of like. His arm getting caught in something and he just stares at whoever trapped it there. Looks them dead in the eyes as he degloves his entire hand then beats the shit out of whoever got in his way with his metal fist. He stays in this state until they steal ANOTHER car, and he finally snaps out of it. And sees his hands covered in blood. And glimmers of his metal skeleton. And his brother looking at him in fear.

AND THATS WHAT IVE GOT RN I CAN'T WRITE LIKE YALL CAN I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR IT I HAVE TO GET ALL OF THIS OUT LIKE RIGHT NOW SO YEAH UHHHHHHH ENJOY

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

I have a few questions about the robo sleuths world that I’m genuinely curious about

Sorry if this is to many questions! you have no obligation to respond and feel free to ignore!

What is the logistical reason a person would become a robot in your universe, and in addition, how much of them gets turned into a robot? “Just a few limbs or the whole shabang? Are those parts of them damaged or rusted by water? Is swimming out of the picture? Rodney obviously looks like his “skin” is made out of metal, so how was his consciousness and brain kept intact? Did they just shove it in the robot? Or other fancy sci-fi business?

Sorry, that was a mouthful! Your world is just really interesting and it’s got me immersed and thinking about logistics! Hats off to you pal!

It's not too many questions, don't worry!! :)

((Edit: about a third of the way through this post I realized it'd be a lot more fitting to call these humans-turned-robots "robos" given it's literally in the title lol))

I may stray slightly off-topic to add some more lore things... but I'll do my best to answer them all so get ready for a lore post!! >:)

1

I kinda spoofed it the last time I talked about it, but the most common reason a person is turned into a robo is to change their appearance for a variety of reasons; a large chunk of these people just want to be more attractive (which more often then not disappoints them greatly). The second most common reason, which I think is the most logistical, would be medical reasons. This too comes in many different forms. Some people are terminally ill and simply want to continue living as a robo, some can't function well on their own and need support, some are already dead and turned into a robo against their will, etc. For the vast majority of these people, only their brain is used. More specifically, their brain (and possibly nervous system) are intricately wired to the robo... it's a very complex process. Sometimes parts can't be salvaged and the robo model is adapted to reflect that. Sometimes... in some cases, their entire body is put into the model. Usually to assist mobility, sometimes because the person is a psychopath. /hj Speaking of which, most people turned into robos get to choose their design. In the scenario they can't choose for whatever reason, either someone decides for them, the doctor chooses a "fitting" model based on their situation, or they just go with one of a few generic options.

2

Given it is still metal, the robos would unfortunately rust over time with water exposure. However, given the robo uses more brain power as opposed to electricity found in regular robots, it's less likely that water would kill them as opposed to just being a large inconvenience. Despite this swimming would still be a terrible idea as the chance of malfunctioning is still there; this does increase the bigger the robo/the more technology used. A passing of water, say, a fountain or even a rain storm, generally won't affect a robo, though.

3

Would you believe it but practically all the robos have metal skin- But that aside, in the case of Rodney (and many others, as touched on before) it's literally kind of both. A very intense process is required to hook up the brain and other body parts to the machine, but they really do just take out the brain and stick it in the robo in a way.

Bonus

And since I'm thinking about it... the more a brain is damaged when it's used for a robo, the more electronics it needs to function properly. Damage can often occur during the surgery. Thankfully, more often than not, a brain containing electronics won't cause too much of a difference to the robo other than the occasional glitch. But if too much of the brain is replaced, or if the surgery is done wrong, it leads to memory loss for the robo. Such as in the case of Lou, whe-💥💥💥💥

...okay I'm still slightly keeping hidden what happened to Lou as I want it to be a surprise but as compensation, I'll share a 'fun' fact about Rodney!

He got prompted into becoming a robo because of a gunshot wound to the head.

The reason for being shot though? I can't say!! Yet.

But jokes aside though THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! You have no idea how much I've been needing to yap about the Robo Sleuths LMAO

If something doesn't make sense though feel free to let me know... I'm aware the information is a bit convoluted here.

(The asks that actually make me think about my series are genuinely the best)

((Wait actually... you guys should send me more lore asks about the robo sleuths and I'll answer what I can!!!))

[daily-singularity]

Hello. I am here to ask you about their paralells and how insane they make you. Pretty please... you're the only one feeding us the good food...

Going insane. white knuckling my pen and paper. I will do my best to make this coherent, apologies in advance if its a mess!!

In the simplest terms both Gabriel and Hux are carbon copy assembly line units created by Huxlee industries for the purpose of colonizing planets and prolonging the human race.

Gabriel is a tool just as much as the Huxlee units are.

"Each individual was manufactured for a different societal function... The idea was to create a functional society that would operate flawlessly." - Gabriel Soma BIO

"Unlike human clones, the HUX-A7 required no food, no water, no sleep, and no life support system. It was created specifically for outer space exploration and the construction of colonization hubs." - HUX-A7-13 BIO

Gabriel was specifically designed by Huxlee for planet colonization. Outside of his time on Dvarka, I gather that Gabriel was in a permanent deep sleep/cryostatis. All of his memories of his family and childhood are fabrications- he has no real life or directives or experiences outside of his work on Dvarka.

---

Both were under the threat of termination, or reprogramming should they fall out of line.

"Dmitri’s not trying to help… he’s trying to get me to stop asking questions. What does he know? What’s he hiding?" - Tome 16, Memory 2998 (Gabriel Soma)

"It remembers its objective. It must assist the crew in terraforming Dvarka. Failure to do so will result in termination."- Tome 16, Memory 2665 (Hux-a7-13)

When Gabriel first starts noticing discrepancies in his memories, his crew's medic writes off his issues as "problems that dont exist", and gives him a drug that fogs up his senses. Its a clear attempt to force him back into subservience, a message of "Stop digging or else".

We're never able to find out what would happen to Gabriel if it became known that he found out about the fact hes a clone, but I gather he would be removed from the project. Terminated so he wouldn't spread panic.

--

After Gabriel finds out about the fact he's a clone, it's a lot harder to get more direct info on his mentality, since thats where his Memory archives end.

Neither of them have much experience with free will.

Due to the fact that both Gabriel and Hux were taken by the entity near immediately after learning they were a clone/gained sentience, it isnt much of a stretch to say that neither of them have experience with a sense of individuality.

Gabriel learns that his entire life has been a fabricated lie and then is immeidately shoved into a killing game. He doesn't really get that chance to come to terms with who and what he is before having to fight for his life.

Hux on the other hand, had more time to digest his new worldview. He was able to start forming his own desires and wants even if they were as simple as "Kill the inferior human worms who created me", or abstract as wanting to "the remake the universe in my image over infinate lifetimes"- whatever the fuck that means Hux. Its really unfortunate that he barely begins to form these desires before theyre all stripped away from him and he is once again forced into subservience.

---

I was gonna put like idk an insightful little footnote here, but i spent absolutely way to long writing this post. Anyways. Gabriel and hux are both tools struggling with a sense of self while being forced to kill or be killed.

Also. can Behavior please fucking explain to me why Gabriel was waxing poetic about the beauty and godliness of the machine that he watched slowly kill his entire crew, like goddamn ogling that machine, then he exploded it. and then like. went "ok damn still godlike."

I just wanna talk with whoever wrote this please. what was. what does this mean. i need to know.

"It had fabricated a new body for itself. Part flesh. Part silicon. Part human. Part machine. Massive. Powerful. Beautiful and majestic like—

An ancient God."

"Gabe raced across the meadow and into the forest. When he looked back, he saw the HUX emerge from the flames and smoke. Burning. Melting. Shrieking. Deformed. Terrible and wrathful like—

An ancient God"

[catscidr]

«grip on your top is so tight you think he might even rip it, god knows the last time he had to trim his nails» 😭😭❤️‍🔥

I've always wondered how Zandik's hygiene is. I'm sure he doesn't give a shit about it. The only thing he cares about is the mechanisms. And how do you think 500 years ago students washed at sumeru?

you’ve come to the right person nonnie i love elaborating about seemingly boring and mundane details lemme ramble for a hot second (￣^￣ )ゞ

-> i talked about what i think his shaving habits would be like a couple of weeks ago (here). i think he would be less inclined to shave as an akademiya student than when he’s “Prime” because he just has.... so much to do, so little time. as a young adult he does grow a decent amount of facial hair (not enough for a full beard though i think), and as much as he dislikes having it, he doesn’t really bother to shave it unless it starts to get on his nerves. like, if he’s head-first into machinery and he keeps rubbing his stubble on the metal...... he’ll get back to his dorm room and quickly shave off the annoying stubble lol. but he doesn't shave it regularly, no. he doesn't gaf about his appearance, really, so doesn't care enough to have a routine

(naturally i like to think there's dorms in the akademiya LOL a shame genshin doesn't expand on living spaces other than just a couple of houses here and there sadge ˙◠˙ )

-> i like to think he’s a heavy nail biter to make up for having barely ever touched a nail file/clipper in his life. it helps him focus sometimes when he's locked tf in. some of his nails are less affected than others, like his pinky fingernails. even though they're all mostly dull, cracked or bitten off there’s definitely potential for him to scratch someone if he truly wanted to. and i'm sure he’d just rips his nails off when they got in the way of whatever research he's doing..

-> but boy oh BOY best for last. i think that they would maybe handwash their clothes in a tub/basin with soap, or if they don't have anything of the sort they could go up north to sumeru city and wash their clothes in the river.

.......but at the same time they did have akasha terminals (going off dottore's vague lore timeline because greater lord rukkhadevata created the akasha system and died around 500 years ago, so im assuming maybe dottore would have been in the akademiya when she died? but my brain hurts thinking about the possibilities so lets assume they all had akasha systems when he was enrolled lol)....... so maybe they had the technology to create basic washing machines (maybe something like this?)

though i'm sure he wouldn't bother himself with a proper hygiene routine, probably only washing himself and his uniform when it got dirty enough (which was probably often anyways) (and i'm sure the akademiya would basically just dresscode him if he showed up to class with soot and oil all over him, too)

and i like to think that maybe the akademiya dorms would have communal bathrooms/"showers" as well. but at the same time it's a super prestigious school so they could have individual bathrooms for each dorm room...... but at the same time² we're talking about 500 years ago........ so............. hmm..............................

in general he's more focused on research and conducting experiments n getting results, so being spotless would be the least of his worries. if he ended up getting sick as a result of his less-than-socially-acceptable hygiene he'd probably just use it as learning experience and use that knowledge for future experiments, like on his eleazar patients in that abandoned hospital. he'd do the bare minimum to Not get sick, has to dedicate as much time as he can in the akademiya to study forbidden knowledge. can't be bedridden with a fever, that's for pussies and he's Not a pussy... probably his daily affirmation. "i'm not a pussy, i am better than everyone. they all suck ass and i'm an alpha". yeah anyways

but WHATEVER!!!!!! tl;dr: he's a grimy little guy and reeks of blood sometimes but its ok we love him either way♡