#that is one thing about me that has never and will never change

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

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

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I help you?"

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

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

"Oh God, Spencer?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And that will stop you?"

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will you say yes?"

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

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

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

---------

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

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

He is just being nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

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

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

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

"Great!"

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

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

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

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

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Almost two years," you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm still that obvious?"

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

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

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

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

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

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

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

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

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

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

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

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

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

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

"Did you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You fucking kidding me!"

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

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

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

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

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

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

[txttletale]

"you, specifically, are a bad and evil person that all my posts are written to condemn" this is not what i said. i'm sorry for not being clearer. i just feel like everyone in this space, not just you, look down on people who live in the first world as people who willingly don't change anything about how the world works when it's just not that simple. i know you all love to combat this and say otherwise but it will never change the simple reality that for some people it really is very hard, if not impossible, to do anything politically, for a variety of reasons. i'm disabled, i live in a remote part of the country, and i'm bad at talking to people. i don't have the money to just move to a population center or get lessons on how to speak to people. i can't do anything and i feel like every time you or one of the other communists on tumblr talks about the imperial core, i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to, if i were in one of your situations. obviously i want things to change. i don't want genocide to be a thing that's constantly happening, i don't want my country to have its tendrils dug into every other country, i want socialism and eventually global communism, and if i could do anything meaningful-- anything at all-- to achieve those goals i would be working on that. but right now that just is not the case for me, and i feel like i'm not alone in that either. i just wish you had like a smidgen of empathy for some of the people living here who don't fit into your stereotype of what a member of the imperial core looks like-- i'm not even trying to say that sarcastically, it genuinely feels like you all don't see us as human. like nyanguard especially seems to think of us as incapable of saving ourselves, and one of the reblogs to my first ask just said they "like to imagine that (i'm) crying as i type this". how am i supposed to react to that? is this how all of you feel about people like me? would your feelings about me change if i lived in another country, or would you find some other excuse to talk down to me? is it really just the country i live in that's the problem, here? i'm not trying to accuse you, i'm asking this question genuinely.

i know it's tempting to respond to this with a snarky comment but please just try to understand where i am coming from. i really am willing to help if i can.

i don't think any marxist seriously has a political theory of imperialism that amounts to "citizens of the imperial core simply choose not to do anything because they are all individually bad people". i mean the whole point of marxism is that economic relations are the ultimate drivers of historical change, not abstract psychological or moral qualities of people.

i'm sympathetic to your situation! the imperial core is a very atomizing place to live, and there are places and situations where there's just no practical path to getting organized and taking meaningful political action in the near future. however, your problem here is:

i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to

nobody is posting about you, personally. like at the end of the day you have to learn to either not take posts like that personally or just block everyone who makes them to manage your own time on the computer vis a vis niceness--i don't think it's the responsibility of me or any other communist to constantly provide asterisks and carveouts that we're not talking about the Good Ones Who Have Extenuating Circumstances when we talk about the usa and its material political base.

& in the same way that you ask for empathy for your situation i would ask you to extend a level of understanding to people whose homelands and countrymen and communities have been devastated by US coups and sanctions and invasions, that they have as much a right to express the rage and fury and hurt of that cultural legacy as you do to express your own sadness about your own situation. imagine, for example, how you would feel if your grandparents could not reliably get medicine because of us sanctions. & of course the correct target for these feelings are not random usamericans--but these posts are also not serious politcal platforms, they are venting from people who live their lives under the weight of empire.

if you think what they're saying is unfair to you, then you need to develop the ability to say 'well, i understand why they would feel that way' and move on. like i understand why you are upset, and i don't say this to be dismissive, but as real advice: it is not fair (especially to bloggers from the global south) to essentially rest your happiness and self-worth at their feet and demand that they validate you.

genuinely, i hope this helps. it's all i really have to say on the matter.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

it doesnt need to be said but its genuinely so funny how at-the-hip charles and erik are in krakoa like they really had the green light- the OBLIGATION- to be as obnoxiously close to each other as possible and abused that right to the fullest extent

[a-pute11as]

Softie - Alexia Putellas

warnings - none?

words - 1.3k

Game day was your favourite, the build up of emotions, the performance anxiety mixed with the joy you felt every time you stepped onto the pitch. Nothing could ever beat the highs you felt when playing the sport you loved so much. Today was one of those days, well it was meant to be, yet the difference was that a very discoloured and swollen ankle caused by a dodgy tackle during international break meant you’d be missing out. The Barca medical team had decided it would be best to miss out on the upcoming away game, advising you to stay home and focus on rehab for the couple of days that your teammates would be away. 

Alexia had always been overprotective, both as your captain and girlfriend, she always had your best interest at heart and wanting her squad at full fitness meant she was quick to agree with the medical advice, even if that meant a couple days of prolonged separation. At first she did try her best to figure out a way you could successfully rehab whilst traveling with your team, but given the amount of walking an away trip often endured and the crutches you were temporarily restricted to, she decided against it. 

“Lo siento mi amor, we both know it’s for the best” Alexia hummed, her hand pressed against her cheek as you were saying your goodbyes at the front door of the shared apartment. Your body half limped against the wall as your crutches had been abandoned next to the sofa in your bid to say a proper goodbye to Alexia.

“Can you change your mind? It’s not too late for me to pack some things” You muttered, leaning into her soft hand as her thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek. 

“Cari, you know what my answer is” She whispered, planting a small kiss on your forehead, leaving you to mumble in defeat.

You said your goodbyes and Alexia was soon gone, leaving you alone with the lack of comfort from your favourite person.

The next few days were full of rehab at the training center, consistent check ins from your girlfriend and a couple of facetime calls when she didn’t believe that you were doing your at-home recovery, something that Alexia often had to bribe you into doing.

You were now more stable on your ankle, meaning you could get around without the reliance on your crutches, allowing you the extra freedom of moving as you pleased. Ale was due home in a couple of hours and you knew she’d be tired so you set about the task of tidying your apartment. It didn’t take too long but the slightly limp in your step did somewhat slow you down and drain extra energy. 

After finishing you were quick to take a shower and put on a change of clothes, consisting of a pair of Alexia’s Spanish national team shorts and her hoodie. Stumbling back towards the sofa, you planted yourself on it comfortably, waiting for the door to open to embrace the person you’d had been missing. 

It didn’t take long for you to adjust yourself into a comfier position whilst the time seemed to drag. You searched for a questionable English reality show, one that Ale would ridicule you for whenever you asked to watch it together, she never got the appeal of British humour yet it made you feel at home. Your phone pinged as you made another adjustment to your leg to seek some kind of peace from the discomfort of baring weight on it had caused. 

*amor - get some sleep, the plane has been delayed slightly so i will be late home and i know you’re tired already*

You furrowed your eyebrows at her suggestion of sleep, determined to greet her with wide eyes and a smile as soon as she entered the room. 

*you - ale i’m wide awake, i’ll be here when you’re up so you can tell me all about it*

In reality you already knew all about it, you had watched the match with Ellie, who was also kept back from traveling due to recovery, you had been receiving updates from both Patri and Pina about the ‘cute’ things Ale had said in passing conversations about you. As well as a message from Kiera asking if my girlfriend would ever not make up excuses for the time when we snuck away from a team celebration to cuddle. Her usual excuse was to blame it on me, but in reality she was tired after a big win and didn’t want to look too soft to the rest of the team. 

*incoming FaceTime call from amor*

“Hola cari” Alexia smiled, as the phone lit up your face.

“Hi babe, everything okay?” You smiled back, stifling a yawn that tried to expose your tiredness to your girlfriend. 

“Just thought I’d check in before the flight, make sure you’re as wide awake as you say you are” Her smile shifted into a smirk knowing exactly the type of person you were. 

“No confias en mi, amor?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side, teasing her intentions. 

“No cariño, confío en ti, pero siempre estás cansada y siempre te quejas." She responded, mocking your head tilt with similar teasing intentions. 

“Ale who’s that?” Patri said, peering her head into the screen, a smile appearing on her face as she realised who it was, “It’s lover girl!” She added, using the nickname she had given you when you first let her know about your relationship. She was quick to take the phone from Alexia’s han for herself. 

“Patri, give her the phone back” You laughed, knowing she had every intention of causing some kind of trouble.

“No, venga, say hello to everyone” She held the phone up, announcing your presence causing you to wave at your teammates that had now focused their attention on the phone.

“Are you staying up to give your girlfriend a goodnight kiss?” Pina laughed, as she began to blow kisses towards the phone.

“Oye, dámelo” Alexia said, standing as she grabbed the phone from Patri’s hand swiftly, “The flight is boarding now amor, go to sleep”. You mumbled in response before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

Even though you were determined to stay awake, it didn’t take long for your eyes to grow heavy as the comfort from Alexia’s borrowed clothes took over your senses.

“Mi amor, wake up” Alexia cooed, her hand running through your hair to stir you through your sleep.

Your only response was a few very tired grumbles as your eyes opened to the sight you’d been waiting for. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was going on before a sleepy smile overtook your face.

“Ale, you’re home” You smiled, pushing yourself up off the sofa and wrapping your arms around her quickly.

“Si, I thought you weren’t tired huh?” She laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“It was an accidenttttt” You whined, “I got comfy in your clothes and they smelt like you so it made me tired”. 

“Oh nena, vamos a la cama” She suggested, taking hold of my hand and leading me towards our bedroom. 

“I’m not even tired amor” You announced, as if there was any use convincing her that you were telling the truth. 

Within 5 minutes both you and Alexia were settled in bed, your head resting on her chest as her fingers made their way through your hair slowly. Your hands ran up and down her chest as you both sleepily talked through how you spent your days and the parts you missed each other the most.

“Patri and Pina didn’t stop teasing me about you staying awake for me to get home” Alexia laughed slightly, “They don’t think I’m tough anymore”.

You sleepily laughed in response, “You’re a massive softie, I think they already knew that”. 

a/n - not sure how i feel about this one, so v sorry if its a lil shit x

[reallyromealone]

Hi! Just sending in this ask before I forget my idea, dont answer this until your asks are open again I just want to write this down before I forget!! Boten x single father! male reader, reader works at a restaurant and Boten comes in one night and Mikey takes a liking to him, his daughter sits in the staff room and draws/plays because she’s too young to be home alone- 🦇 anon

Title: cute waiter

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, single dad reader, fluff, nameless daughter, Mikey has that weird ass rizz as the kids say

Notes:

Summary: bonten goes to a small restaurant while in town for business and Mikey falls for the cute waiter.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

(Name) Could never thank his boss enough for letting (daughters name) stay in the office, the elderly woman finding the toddlers company pleasant while she worked on scheduling and order's.

"(Name), could you cover booth three? I have to talk to (boss name) about the schedule" (name) looked to his co-worker who managed the hardest puppy eyes he could "fine, but you owe me"

"Thank you!"

(Name) Never knew what to expect at the small restaurant, typically it was the locals in the small town but sometimes some rich people came in and even foreigners which was a gamble on how the experience would go.

Usually they were nice though.

"Hello! Could I get you gentlemen started with water or perhaps the chef's choice of wine?" (Name) Said happily to the group who sized him up, the man in the middle just staring him down with cold blackened eyes but (name) just continued smiling and even making eye contact with them.

Blissfully unaware of who they were or what their tattoos meant.

"We will start with the finest wine you have" the white haired man with snake like eyes said simply, his rings shining under the warm lights "of course! I will be back momentarily with your wine, gentlemen" and with that (name) turned and left, bonten not missing Mikey's curious look and the lock on to the waiters ass. They all exchanged glances while their boss just ate his snacks, flipping to the dessert menu to see they had the good stuff.

(Name) Returned moments later and filled their glasses, Mikey freezing when the waiter got close to him and the white haired man could smell the others cologne faintly and nearly shoved his face into the poor man's neck if it wasn't for his self control "so tell us about yourself, Mr waiter ~" ran was going to do his boss a favor, knowing Mikey had the romantic abilities of a snail. "Ah, what would you like to know?" (Name) Was so easy going, care free "you in school?" "You single?" "You know how to bake?"

(Name) Was a bit startled by the questions but didn't see the harm "I'm not, I graduated last year, I am single and I do know how to bake, yes" (name) laughed a bit at the questions "now, what can I get you gentlemen?" Changing the topic to get to business and not have these attractive men ask every detail of his life.

Of course they ordered the nicest things on the menu, it was going to be a pricy bill no doubt but (name) wasted no time getting their order before his coworker took over his table for his break and hang out with his tot. (Name) Brought in dinner for the two, free food from the restaurant and (daughters name) got cute rice balls shaped like hearts and for dessert she got taiyaki shaped like stars and filled with custard.

"Wow you drew this?" (Name) Cheered on his kid who beamed, the owner who became their grandmother of sorts always splurged on the good coloring supplies for the little girl and finding some cute toys for the office so she's never bored.

"Why don't we show the team, yeah?" (Name) Asked the little one who bounced a little, clearly happy at the idea "let's go!" Holding his little girls hand, the restaurant was nearly dead save for the group of eight who were furious that (name) was changed out for another person but Mikeys anger quickly melted when he saw the tiny version of (name) waddle towards the elderly owner who was rolling cutlery.

"My!" She cooed and lifted the little girl up "you're so talented!"

Mikey and (name) locked eyes, the waiter offering a sweet smile and Mikey's face dusted red, (name) didn't miss the stares and the blushes on the pale man, knowing damn well the awkward blond thought he was attractive "you enjoy your meal?" (Name) Asked him casually, the blond composing himself "yeah..." His words simply and short, never the one for small talk "that your kid?"

"Ah, yeah... She's too young to be alone and my boss practically helped raise me as a teen so she just hangs here"

Mikey nodded and looked over (name) who caught his stare "would you like to go out sometime?" (Name) Thought the blond was cute, even if he barely spoke and just stared ominously.

Mikey froze, usually it was him doing that "you don't know who we are, do you?"

"...models...?" (Name) Said confused, unsure of his answer and Mikey just stared back at the man "what? Used to people not recognizing you?"

"Something like that"

"Well I hope to get to know you better, I have to get my rugrat in for her nap but I'll be back soon yeah"

Mikey never felt so complacent, nodding and even letting (name) kiss his cheek gently before going to get his daughter.

[beautifullilacsky]

It's been a while since I wrote about you. Not because I haven't missed you or didn't have good things to say; it's because it's been so, so incredibly good. There is too much for me to say. There have been too many moments that I'd like to write down for me to remember for a lifetime. We came back from our first vacation together, and gad, I have never been more sure about you.

By switching to the other side of the sidewalk so you were the one closer to the road, you made me feel safe. Wearing your 'emergency pants', in case you needed to move the van when the wind was too much for me (which, it was, and you moved the van without a wrinkle or hint of annoyance in your face), you made me feel cared for. Just like all the times you asked me if I was okay. You made me feel heard and made me feel like you truly wanted to understand and hear me, when you asked me how the vacay is going. What our further wishes are and if we want to change anything. You made me feel important and like a princess when you drove around half of the island, just to find a souvenir that I really wanted (even if you usually don't do souvenir hunts). Every single day, you made me feel so good. All of the full body cuddling at night, almost forming a blanket the way you folded yourself all around me. All of the caring during the day. All of the communicating and comfortable silences. The amount of planning you have done, making sure we arrive there and back home safely and that we can "haal het beste uit" our vacation. Knowing I am uncomfortable with manuals and especially a van, you drove all of the time; even if at times, it was stressful as shit. And, everything that came with living in a van; you emptied our water, refilled it, dusted the inside, checked the difficult-closing door, cooking, and did a lot of the dishes.

All the times I asked you to pose a certain way for a picture, you did exactly that. On hikes, you would ask me if the speed was okay, or, like you did most of the time, you'd let me in front. That way, I could go my own speed and you'd be sure that I felt comfi and good. The cute smiles when I said something to Beertje; how I adore and feel so so safe when you like seeing the child inside of me. Ha, the way you went back to souvenir stores with me as I regretting not buying something, while once again, not being annoyed at all. Also, how you paid for my toilet visit twice, knowing I don't carry around 50 cents. It's not expensive, but I know you'd never pay for a toilet like that. But if I really needed and wanted to, you gave me the moneys and always told me to take my time. The way you always let me play whatever music I would like to hear; is that something meaningful that I have overseen every single time (by thinking you just vibe with everything)?

My baby. I can't even describe it in words properly. You truly treated me like a princess. You asked me if u don't always do so. I had no choice but to take my blinding sunnies off during this vacation, seeing how well you treat me. In day to day life, it shines less bright. Now, I couldn't miss it, not even if I closed my eyes during the whole vacation.

One thing I will never ever forget. The 25th birthday you gifted me. You first gifted me a go-pro, which you had named "Renee s vlog camera". It's a typical niklas gift; useful. And damn, even if I was a bit overwhelmed with what it could do at the beginning, I friggin love it. We got to use it sooo many times during the vacay, and I am thrilled that we got to use it in those ways. I am sure there will be more times that I use it, which I am v excited for. And of course, the way you made sure that we got to do what I wanted to for my bday (a hike, an easy one to start with, which,,,, was harder than we had planned but you made sure that I was okay the whole time and we turned around when we both felt like it was a good time). And later, the whale 🐋 dolphin 🐬 watching in Funchal... (where we also looked at the doors I wanted to see, hiked up to a garden u thought I wanted to see, just to take a cable car to the actual palace where I wanted to go to (even if it sounded boring to u to go to a palace), and we ate at such a lovely restaurant, even twice!). Bro. Never will I ever forget the first time you said "I love you too". I was so deep into my feelings, I bit your arm. Yet, that wasn't enough to calm the roaring feeling inside of me. The one that was banging at the bottom of my throat, begging me to say the words. So. I did. "Don't say it back, but I love you so friggin much. Thank you so much for this.... I love you". I felt a weight falll of of my shoulders, as I put my head onto yours. Right there and then, even if I couldn't make it out a 100% over the sound of the waves, the motor from the boat, and the peace that had fallen over me, you said it. "I love you too". My head instantly bounced up: "what?!" I smile, as you also laugh and point out the sharks that you just spotted. Typical Niklas, talking about sharks when he wants to change to topic. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you said it back to me. And even if you are still debating what it means to love someone, maybe you felt the same way that I did right there, on the two front seats of this boat. There wasn't a way for me to explain why I felt the way I did. I just know. For me, it doesn't have to be based on facts. "Okay, so, I really appreciate what he did for me and I feel super safe, appreciated and good. So, in convlusion, that must mean that I love him". I am more of the feeling type. I felt overwhelmed by love for you right there and then. Maybe you felt the same, and told me that you love me too, even if you aren't factually sure that that means. Either way. I will remember you saying it. 24th of October, 3 days after my bday and 8 days before our one year anniversary. I know you only say things you mean, and if you didn't want to say it back, I gave you the options. "Don't say it back", I said the first time that I said I love you. After a short second, I said it again, and even if I didn't realize it, gave you the opportunity to say it back to me. Might not be that big of a deal to you, but as you might know, lol, it is a pretty big deal to me.

So. Baby. It seems impossible to word. But damn. You treated me like a princess. And Gash. I love you, so, so friggin much. No words. I am excited to spend so much more time with you in our future. Endless kisses to you, my love.

emilie.hofferber

[michaela-o]

Hi hello everyone :D🧡

So a while back i made a post about Cybertronians witnessing humans being feral when in fight or flight response or how humans act when we are on adrenaline in general because i really like this idea. But hear me out- :D

Protective, scared and angry human = very scary human

We all have this natural need and drive inside us to protect. Wether it's the person we love, family or friends. I myself am very protective when it comes to anyone i love. I would throw myself in front of a bear if i had to. Or i would fight anything and anyone if i had to protect the people i love.

Now imagine if the human was the size as an average cybertronian: (slight warning for blood at the end)

The Lost Light got under attack by the infamous DJD and everything goes to shit so quickly no one has time to react as the deadly members tear through the ship and with Tarn having one goal in mind and that was to find Megatron. His optics burning with lust for killing him. Eventually he finds him and they both fight together. The human is watching this from the security office locked in with other members of the Lost Light. They all watch in horror and worry as they both fight. But Tarn doesn't play fair. As Megatron gets knocked by him the other bots notice as the human's breath quickens, their frame is shaking a bit and their teeth are tightly gritted together. Their protective drive has woken up.

Enough is enough..

You know what Megatron did..but no one has the right to take away someone else's life..especially someone like Tarn...Megatron was almost like the father the human claimed to never have..

As the human turns swiftly to unlock the door the other bots try to stop them but the human is determined and full of anger and adrenaline as they push past the bots who are taken aback. The bots are not fast enough as the human is already sprinting towards the scene where everything was happening. So many thoughts and emotions ran through them as they sprinted..anger, fear (you know because it's still fucking Tarn)

But no they aren't backing away now.

As they round a corner they barely make it in time because Tarn was already aiming his canon at Megatron.

The human suddenly jumps in front of Tarn and they srunch their nose and bare their teeth at him, their arms spread over Megatron. Tarn stares in disbelief and then he chuckles. You may be the size of a cybertronian but you're still a fragile dumb human.

"If you want him..you're gonna have to go through me first.."

As the human growled no one wanted and couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing back at the security room on the cameras. Thats it the human has gotten crazy. NO ONE would do a thing like this. It's like you were asking to be killed. It's the DJD.. Even Megatron's expression almost changed to bewildered and wide eyed.

Of course the human got a good beating from Tarn but there was just something in them. This weird wild look in their eyes as blood dripped down their forehead into their eye and down their chin. Scratched and battered with at least 4 broken ribs they still stood with determination. Tarn was enjoying this but it was getting frustrating and on his nerves. Tarn is deadly and strong but the human was agile and quick. As Tarn was about to finish Megatron once again (because he thought the human was finished) they once again threw themeselves in front of him with this crazy look in their eyes and the next words rang out in everybody's ears.

"Over, my, dead body..."

The human was shaking, growling and huffing slowly loosing their strenght but reinforcements were quickly arriving and the DJD was in disadvantage so they had to fall back but of course Tarn would be back and would take the human with him the next time.

And this is how i think bots view this :3

From the cybertronian perspective:

The bots, often more concerned with survival and the war’s toll on their world i think would most likely react with shock. Tarn is a fanatic Decepticon who enforces ideology without mercy, would represent the last person they’d expect a human to stand against. They might interpret the human's bravery as foolhardy or even reckless, given Tarn’s terrifying reputation, but they may also see it as a powerful symbol that courage and conviction can transcend size and power.

From Tarn's Perspective:

I think Tarn, who worships Megatron’s original vision and detests any deviation from it, would be utterly incensed. The idea of a human—whom he views as nothing more than an insect—intervening to protect Megatron would enrage him. He’d view it as an ultimate insult to Megatron's legacy and to the Decepticon cause, likely intensifying his resolve to destroy them both to "cleanse" this offense.

Aaaa i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing :3🧡 here i also drew a picture of the human so you could imagine the whole scenario better :3

[beardysuits]

Piece of Jake

Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.

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I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.

See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.

See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 

So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 

I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 

See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 

In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 

He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 

I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 

He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 

“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 

“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 

“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 

There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 

My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 

I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?

I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 

I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 

I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 

Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 

I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 

It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 

Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 

I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 

Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 

I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 

“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 

“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.

There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 

I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 

“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 

I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 

Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 

“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 

I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 

I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?

[d3arapril]

TOO FAR GONE | P.B

sydney moore has always kept paige bueckers right where she wants her—close enough to touch, but never close enough to hold. whenever paige attempts to move on, whether alone or with someone new, she always finds herself gravitating back to her whether she likes it or not. as their behaviours both become increasingly destructive, can they break the cycle or are they too far gone?

WARNINGS/TAGS: TOXIC!OC, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS & ATTACHMENTS, LANGUAGE, MANIPULATION, SEXUAL CONTENT, CHEATING | PLAYLIST

00 PROLOGUE

01 ONE CALL AWAY | all it took was one call.

02 WHY LIE? | if she love me enough she gon' lie to herself.

03 PRESSURIZED | you run, i'll make you come right back.

04 WDYWFM? | five months go by, and i thought about letting her go.

05 BIRDS OF A FEATHER | say you wanna quit, don’t be stupid.

so i know i said invisible string was coming back but it's winter time and i want to write something angsty! some things are still subject to change and the prologue won't be out for a few days at LEAST! but tbh i just wanted to get this out because i'm excited to share it. i'm also quite nervous lol but i can't wait to go on this wild journey with you all. buckle up and enjoy! x

[great-now-im-confused]

Look shit is going to get bad. It's always going to get bad. But with that it means it'll get better too. What's good and bad is different for everyone. Many things that are bad for you know might stay that way. But many of them will also progress and change and actually get better. Beyond that thought, if you stay and you fight, you will get better. Maybe it is your family that'll always be crazy, maybe the political world will be beyond bleak for the foreseeable future, but if you stay you'll be able to see the things that will improve and will be good. I know so many of us have so much on our plates right now and the results of yesterday and dreadful. But please stay. I promise it'll be worth it.

Sure everything you hope for might not happen but you'll never get to know the things that WILL if you stay. I know the point of this post is mostly to address the dread many of us feel after the election. And I fully get it trust me I do. But as someone who has made that choice before and I am so grateful it didn't work for me to be able to still be here I want to share a few things.

"it gets better" is both right and wrong in my opinion. Yes sometimes the things that have you down so bad that you walk that path can absolutely get better. Sometimes they don't though and while that sucks it's okay. Because as I said before, YOU get better. (Not to run into "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" stuff because I get it, why do we have to be strong) You grow, you learn, you change. And with that growth and change your state of mind often changes too. Admittedly my life isn't too different from when I reached that point, but it's also so much better in so many ways. I'll use my family for an example. My family is so chaotic it's overwhelming and that hasn't changed, what has changed though is my ability to cope with it. I am still the one everyone runs to to fix problems. I still try to fix those problems more than I probably should, but I have started to learn to say no and to put up boundaries with them. So while yes it hasn't changed for the most part the growth I've had within myself has allowed me some space from all the chaos and it's truly helped me.

Then there's things like medication and therapy that's has helped immensely along the way. And I fully understand that not everyone has the same access to things I have been lucky enough to have along the way as the journey is different for everyone. And especially given the outcome of yesterday those things may become even harder to obtain for others. But I will say I also thought a lot of those things were out of my reach and I started asking the right questions and made it a little father (again this won't be true for everyone but hopefully will be able to at least a few)

I reached a standstill with progressing in my career because I didn't know what to do next. One day I got super lucky and met a new person who gave me so much guidance (more than I think they know) and it reignited my passion for my goals (again I know I am super lucky to find myself in that situation). My point with that is we have to be able to reach each other because you never know who you can help (with something that may be simple to you) and who can help you. You don't get to experience that if you're gone.

I'm not trying to get into my whole story or journey but I'm trying to share enough that it makes sense and is understood when I say I know what it feels like to be that low and I know what it feels like to overcome it. So please trust me on that.

I know things are scary right now. So much is uncertain and on the line. But you won't fix it by overly stressing about it and you won't fix anything is you don't stay. Times are going to get challenging and it's going to get hard and rough, but we will always be able to do something about it, especially together. So I can't help you if I leave and you can't help me if you go.

So take some time to process you frustration, your grief, and your fears. Then when you're ready take a deep breath and be prepared. Be prepared to take action. Figure out what is most important to you that you fear will change with the coming times. It could be your number 1 thing it could be a top 3-10 depending on what you have the energy for. And. Then start to learn. What can you do to help, what can you do to make a change, how can you make a difference. Then make a plan. When we all taken action things will start to be okay again.

But we can't inform each other if we're not here. We can't help if we're not here. Like OP said times have been bad before throughout history and humans have survived and we'll survive this. If you need a reminder and it won't mess you up too much look into the things people have preserved through (try not to focus too much on those tragically lost to those times because that won't help in this situation)

I know this is long and has gone all over the place but I needed to get this out because it's just part of everything swirling in my mind lately. So, sorry is it's a little hard to understand my points, if you'd like to reach out to discuss any of it with me if gladly try to be more clear on some of it I just was trying to not fully take over OP's post with my response (which I know I more than likely have by now, SORRY OP) this post just resonated with me and everything started flowing. So please just stay even if it means me typing all of this out was worth it and because you are worth it and we will work together to make it better

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

[simp4konig]

nggghmhh... been thinking about Nikto getting into a fight and Reader fussing over him and cleaning up the blood on his knuckles and bandaging his hand as he watches them with hearts in his eyes... 🥺💞

It wasn't that nasty of an injury, really. Really.

You were simply fussing over him too much, as per usual.

His knuckles were split after punching someone in the face perhaps a tad too hard. Just a little. Just hard enough to knock out a few molars, maybe... or a row.

"This will sting," you murmur — though, mostly to yourself, as Nikto isn't particularly talkative, and usually only replies in grunts.

Eventhough Nikto could have gone to medical to have his injuries treated by a more qualified individual, he went straight to you instead: maybe you applied too much pressure on accident when disinfecting the wound with antiseptic and his skin would sting; maybe the bandages were never tight enough and always on the loose side; and maybe your handiwork wasn't as precise or skillful, but Nikto found that simply being around you was enough to heal him.

Yes, it does sting. A lot.

Or it should. Nikto has become desensitised to pain, and it doesn't register like it used to. What should be excruciating agony feels like a dull throb in the background, or the aftershocks felt from a body that didn't belong to him, yet does. Not to mention that he dissociates a lot, so he can make active pain... passive.

So yes, it does sting. It just doesn't hurt.

Nikto lets you do as you please, watching with silent attention the entire time. He keeps his hand limp, letting you hold it however you want...

...Just as long as you're holding it.

The size difference is stark, his large fingers easily encircling your wrist almost in its entirety. He’s big and built, scars and old wounds littered across his pale skin, pink and raw in the places that he was burned. You? You are small and... soft.

Your biceps aren't as big as his. Your muscles aren't as defined as his. Your build isn't as solid, strong, and stout as his is.

Instead, you are… delicate. Like a porcelain doll. And as pretty as one, too. Especially when your eyes are as glassy as they are now, and catch the light at such an angle that it makes them sparkle like rare gems to be treasured and cherished. Nikto's treasure.

Delicate to him, at least; because, no matter how much you insist that you are not petite, not tiny, and not fragile, it further solidifies in his mind how he ought to protect you. Which was annoying as fuck, since you weren't a child that had to be coddled and protected, but it was what it was. It was almost... adorable?

"Is it alright?" You ask, antsy with anticipation, absentmindedly chewing on the inside of your cheek without realising. "Maybe... try flexing your hand?"

He does, surveying your handiwork, twisting his hand this way and that, clenching his fingers into as tight of a fist as he can make it.

"Or... is it, erm... too tight? I-I can wrap it again, if it's uncomfortable—”

“—No.”

Truth of the matter was, it could have been better — any nurse would have been appalled, and hastily bandaged Nikto's hand again for themselves.

But, since it was you that treated him, it was the best treatment which he could have ever asked for.

And it was not "alright", but immaculate, thank you.

With a sigh, you release his hand, and miss how Nikto instantly tenses, missing the intimacy, as subtle and fleeting as it was.

“You get into too many fights," you say, eyebrows furrowed slightly over your eyes in unconcealed disapproval.

A shrug. “Too many people provoke me," Nikto puts bluntly.

“Provoke you how, exactly? By breathing? Existing?"

For a long moment, Nikto was quiet. You were on edge — your sarcasm did not bode well with Nikto sometimes, and it probably came across as malicious and accusatory...

Fuck. Fuuuck...

However, through gritted teeth, Nikto utters: “They… were saying bad things about you.”

Instantly your demeanour changes, and although you attempt to disguise it with a stern expression and cold tone, your features soften considerably, and the furrowed brows and the wrinkles in your forehead smoothen, like ice melting.

“Nikto…”

Nikto, defending your honour? He, punching not just recruits, but other operators, and threatening the commanders with death lest they mess with you? Hurt you? Merely talk badly about you?

Oh fuck... your heart aches, and stubbornly clenches with affection eventhough you ought to scold him, to tell him to stop, to behave rationally... despite not particularly wanting to.

Since the idea of being defended by Nikto is... nice.

Still.

“Nikto... please don't fight people on my behalf.”

Immediately, he becomes defensive, and gruffly grunts a harsh: “Why not?”

You bite your lip. “Because… I don't want you to get hurt. Okay?"

“I don't care if I get hurt. All I care about is you. You're all that matters."

“And I care about you. I care if you get hurt. Because it matters to me. So… don't, okay?"

"...Hmph."

"...Please," you whisper, pleading nonverbally with your eyes. "...For me?"

For you? He would do anything...

...not get hurt, that is.

Next time a person insulted you or made a snarky remark about you in any way, he would hurl a chair at them. Or plot the most inconspicuous murder.

Just as long as he wouldn't get hurt, yes?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@blackinkniko @arrozyfrijoles23 @wil-xyz @revnatheshadow @feelya @liminal-chickenskin @zoloftwithdrawalnausea @soupiiiie @lizzy019

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/Ns

One Nikto wip done... 12+ more to go!!!!!, 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

.....i will only pass away peacefully if i finish these .....

..... then and ONLY then im going to bash my head against a wall so i am in a coma 😇 (JOKE)

Going to miss my anons:(((... Im verysad to have closed my inbox but it was necessary for me 😟...

Anyways, my closed inbox gives me motivation to write as fast as possible so I can interact with them (you!!! <333) again ☺️💞💞💞

[chrissturnsfav]

𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓇!𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝓍 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

headcannons of what chris is like as a big rapper.

ᰔᩚ mentions of sex, drugs, and alcohol

rapper!chris who is known in the industry for his natural flow, the amount of money he makes, having the best drugs, and his style. many big rappers in the industry are eager to work with him because of how good his verses are.

rapper!chris who's stage name is 'chri$.'

rapper!chris who is very possessive. he sees someone simply just checking you out? they'll be taken care of with his fists.

rapper!chris who lets you know who is in control when you catch an attitude. he's quick to remind you who you belong to—"whoa, y'talkin' t'me like that? yeah, nah...watch your mouth ma, remember who takes care of you."

rapper!chris who has a slightly douchy demeanor on the outside, but deep down is a nice and silly person who has a soft spot for you and his family.

rapper!chris who definitely has a goofy side in contrast with his slightly mean personality. he's very loving, always making time to wave at fans or sign autographs when he's out. he wants to make sure his fans feel appreciated by him.

rapper!chris who would never allow you to try any of the drugs he does. if you were to ever ask him if you could try while he's snorting lines at a club next to you, he'd be like: "what? nah...you must be trippin.' ain't happenin'. ever, 'n you know that."

rapper!chris who focuses mainly on music, his brand, and his youtube channel with his brothers.

rapper!chris who's always talking about you in his songs. they range from lewd verses to even some soft ones where he talks about your laugh, your pretty face, etc.

rapper!chris who is rough when it comes to sex. his favorite position is doggy—of course, he loves watching your ass bounce back onto his cock. he loves to praise you and throw in a few degrading phrases if you've been bratty. "atta girl, yeah, jus' like that," "this what y'needed? needed t'be fucked like a slut t'get your attitude in check, huh?" "good girl, look at you, pretty lil' fucked out face all f'me."

rapper!chris who is always touching you, whether it be his hand on your thigh in the car, idly playing with your hair, holding your hand—anything he does with you, his hands always find their way to you somehow. his love language is definitely physical touch.

rapper!chris who always watches your alcohol intake when you guys go out. he makes sure no guys are in your proximity while also making sure you don't get sloppy—he wants you to save that for only him to see later in the night.

rapper!chris who listens to your music the second you let him listen and he always gives his brutally honest input without being too harsh. "s'good, ma. could throw a few more verses in there instead of repeatin' y'self." "so pretty, love hearin' you sing, sound like a fuckin' angel." "damn, was that one 'bout me?"

rapper!chris who makes sure you're always the first to listen to a new song he records and immediately wants your input on it. if you tell him you don't like a verse, he'll change it asap only for you.

rapper!chris who loves the contrast between you two. your girly demeanor and soft spoken music contrasting with his hard, fiery rap music just turns him on.

rapper!chris who always makes sure you have what you need. he'll give you stacks of money randomly, buy you extravagant gifts for no reason etc. he'll also absolutely never let you pay for a single thing, and when you profusely thank him with a giant sweet smile, he'll say, "yeah, yeah, only do it cause i love seein' my girl's pretty smile. y'like it, ma? yeah, knew ya would."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: just some headcannons to give everyone a glimpse of rapper!chris

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[planetpedri]

Nervous — Jude Bellingham.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jude, who you couldn’t bear to be around, was suddenly making you very nervous.

Word count: 900+

Disclaimer/s: banter , dancing , alcohol, yeah idk

A/N: Hai ! Home from vacation and finally writing again bless up! Side note: if trump wins im going to have to take a hiatus while I figure out a plan to move to Barcelona.

The club was full of energy. People around you danced and sang along to whatever lyrics were playing, their drinks sloshing around in their cups, dangerously close to spilling. Yet you were huddled in a corner, out of your element completely.

You weren’t used to these types of things. Sure, you attended parties, but that was only when you had to. So standing under the flashing lights, a black dress clinging to your body uncomfortably… well, it just wasn’t very fun.

A presence beside you brought you out of the self pitying thoughts. Glancing up, you internally groan. Your eyes instantly rolling as you let out a huff of annoyance. “What do you want?”

Jude looks down at you, his lips pulling into that familiar smirk you hated so much. “You looked lonely.” He shrugs, his eyes flickering to your dress for a moment. “Nice dress.” He drawls.

It was a small compliment, but it had to not-so-subtly shifting on your feet as you used one hand to tug the hem of it further down your thigh. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

The taller man gasps, using both his hands to clasp over his heart to show his offense. “Hey! I was being serious! You look.. pretty.”

Your eyebrows pull together, causing a crease to form between them. You weren’t sure why, but that had sent a wave of heat to your cheeks. At that moment, you were quite grateful for the strobe lights as they concealed your predicament well.

“Oh, shut up.” You scoff, “why don’t you leave me alone and go dance with randoms or something?” Your snarky reply is only met with a laugh, which made you grow even more irritated.

“Aw, come on! I’ll go.. if you join me.” He nudges your shoulder with his, “please?”

Glancing up at him, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when you’re met with a serious looking Jude. “Yeah, no. Hard pass. And not just because of you.”

Jude rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. “Down whatever you have in that cup, get some energy, and let’s dance!”

You weren’t exactly sure why you did what you did, but you tilted the cup to your lips and took two big gulps of the burning substance. Setting the glass down on the table you let out a long breath. “Whatever. No touching me.” You point at him with narrowed eyes.

Jude puts his hands up in feigned surrender. “No touching, got it.”

Leading the way, you make a path toward the black and white tiled floor. You had to push your way through, but with Jude close behind, you both made it to a tiny open space.

Turning to face him, you have to fight the roll of your eyes at his prideful smile. Ignoring him, you find a comfortable rhythm. Your eyes close as you sway to the music, only opening when the beat changes, your eyes connecting with Jude’s. He was watching you, the smile lines near his eyes prominent as he does so.

“Ew, don’t look at me like that.” You make a disgusted face, but that doesn’t deter the man.

He cocks his head to the side, a small laugh escaping his lips. “I’ve just never seen you dance before.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.” You scowl, “I don’t see you dancing.” You point out, but you’re only met with another teasing grin on his part.

“I don’t dance, not without a partner.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks once again. Your mouth opens and closes about four times before you give in. Taking the few strides toward him, he sucks his teeth, suppressing the smug look at threatened at his face.

“Don’t make me regret this.” You snap, turning around to face the DJ’s booth and away from Jude’s stupidly pretty face. You try not to stiffen when his hands rest on the curves of your hips, but by the soft chuckle you hear next to your ear, you know he noticed.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just me.” Jude teases but a hint of sincerity laced his voice, his face far too close to yours as he does so, sending shivers crawling up your spine.

You refuse to look at him as you speak, “I am not.”

“Sure you aren’t.” He laughs, spinning you around. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you come face to face with him.

You find yourself at a loss for words, every rebuttal seemed to be caught in your throat. All you could get out was a strangled cough. Jude finds great pleasure in your loss for words, because a smirk adorned his face when you didn’t speak.

“Exactly.” He continues smugly, which you don’t even roll your eyes at for once. You just let out a heavy breath and look away, too at a loss for words to even function properly.

Jude doesn’t comment on this, just sways along with you to the music, his fingers pressing into your hips all the while, like you’d leave him at any given moment. But you don’t, you stay there until your feet physically couldn’t take it anymore.

And when you finally had enough, the man was decent enough to help you back to your seclusion corner for a rest. But even though you’d stayed there silently, he stood beside you with a small content smile on his face.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

A couple of requests

"And this is our red witch?"

You were yanked out of your ordinary environment. You were yanked out of your house. And where were you teleported exactly?

Crawling out of fire was never a pleasant experience.

"Agatha!…" Fuck, you were getting angry. "Agatha!…" You could feel fireball forming in your palm.

"Hey! Is Harkness the only one who deserves your attention?"

You turned around as quickly as you could. That voice was familiar. That tone was close.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Out of the trees silhouette emerged. not even a second, a fleeting instant - you recognized her immediately.

"You've got something on your shoulder." Shoulder, really Rio? You shrugged, too close to your neck.

"Don't."

Oh, you didn't sound confident, Rio noticed. Rio smirked. Of course she did. Centuries you were apart and she still could read you like an open book.

____

"Did you miss me?"

You almost jumped. You forgot whether it was voice of your nightmares or dreams.

Well, the voice sure was as sultry as you remembered it to be. Not only that. You remembered all too well her obsession with a very specific silhouette, with open skin, with accent on her arms.

Rio knew you were looking at her. You were thinking about her.

You tried to keep your eyes focused on her. But it didn't work. Suddenly you stopped.

"Why are you here?"

You didn't allow Rio to get closer. Golden was your protective halo.

"Because of you." Rio was always straightforward. Even after all these years. "Not that easy to track you down. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the affort with the cover and protective spells. Clearly you were thinking about me, baby. Just not in a way I want it."

___

"I'm fine."

Of course, you were not. Your clothes was wet with your own blood. Shard of glass was bigger than you thought. And sharper, clearly sharper.

"I could…"

"Jen, I'm fine."

You let others move faster, you let them out of your sight. Potions were not good enough in this situation. You couldn't heal yourself, the only other option was… no, it wasn't an option.

You couldn't focus on the road. Pain was too much, tension was too much, moving was too much. Your own body wasfinally betraying you. You groaned.

"I definitely like this sound. But not in this circumstances."

Rio appeared just in time to help you keep the balance.

"I'm fine."

You were not strong enough to fight her hands on you.

"Yeah, I already heard that."

You leaned against Rio's shoulder. You didn't want to owe her anything. You were close, dangerously close.

Not now, not after everything. You were losing yourself on the road. You almost closed your eyes.

It was enough for her to barely wave a hand. Wound disappeared in an instant. You inhaled sharply and immediately pushed Rio away.

"You shouldn't have done that." Your whisper hit her harder than any trial. "It doesn't change anything."

"I know."

___

This coven was the worst thing you could imagine. Lunatics, has beens, humans, teens. But the worst thing - your ex-lover. You forgot at what point fucking death was a good idea.

Of course you were flooded with memories, with emotions, with tingling in your body. Fuck. You hated it here. Road was never even supposed to exist. You were not sure what spell chose you, but sure as hell Rio influenced it.

"We need to move quicker. Do you understand the meaning of this word." Agatha's voice was annoying as ever. You praised gods for living without her disturbance for so many years. Nothing was fine, while Harkness was around.

"Thief." You muttered. "What did you say, dear?" Lilia was close. Semblance of a companion at least. You bond appeared such a long time ago. "Nothing". You caught Rio's glance. Thief would be a too generous word for Death.

___

All the walking, all the fighting, all the arguing. Those witches were everything but the coven. Still rest andfire were universally accepted. Stories of the old glory were never part of your routine. You needed a practice of protections spells, you needed to think.

The last thing you wanted was to be a part of the old memory between women who hated each other. You tried to change path, but everything was too loud, as if the road itself amplified the voices.

"You took him!"

You've never heard Agatha like this. You yourself caused many cries of agony, but this one was different.

"He was never even yours." how did Rio manage to stay calm and distant?

"He was always mine, I created him."

"You cheated. And you know you cannot cheat me."

That was true. You were cursed while trying to do exactly that, while trying to live a life of pretended normalcy.

___

Of course you knew about history between Agatha and Rio. You were jealous at first. Even of the memory of them together.

But Rio managed to calm you down. You met ages after that affair. There was no reason for you not to believe she was yours. After the fight with Agatha something changed. Rio wasn't with you anymore. On her own she was wondering the woods,for brief moments appearing during vital moments.

You knew this Rio once, not for long.

"You're letting Agatha have all the fun." You didn't have to cheer her up. But… you cared. And it was betternot to upset death itself.

"More fun for her, more bodies for me. It always worked that way."

"Even with Nicholas."

Silence was awkward and not welcomed. You sat near her.

"You were the only one who refused this deal."

"And still you stayed."

Painfully soft. Painfully obvious. Painfully full of affection.

"It wasn't enough, was it?"

"It was always too much."

Of course, it was. It was Rio, all about Rio. Even now she wanted to grab you, to possess, to devour. You could practically feel the struggle in her mind. But she chose to be tender.