#Felt inspired to share this after logging back in this week ^-^

[elitadream]

The greatest adventure is a life spent with you. 🌄

-

Made this in thought of my dad, who always cheers me up and is the best travel buddy I could ask for. 😊🧳 Among the Asterix sketches I left unfinished, this one was my favorite so I decided to refine it a bit and post it. Revisiting these characters was so much fun, I will always love them dearly. 💖

[cloveroctobers]

SOAKED | JESSE (TLOU) — summer prompts

A/N: let me try and write for this man again lol but for a whole different character! Y.M. plays(Ed)Jesse so well so it’s only right that I try and do a little something to kick these seasonal prompts off! Hope you like this fluff and little angst moment 🩶

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: “what if i drown??" "i'm not going to let you drown!" + it's too cold!" + i've got you. don't worry."

WARNINGS: Jesse xPainter! Reader inspired by what he shared in this scene with Ellie, language ofc & sweet tender moments.

☀︎.˚❀˖°𓇼｡𖦹˚｡☀︎.˚❀˖°𓇼｡𖦹˚｡☀︎.˚❀˖°����｡𖦹˚｡☀︎.˚❀

Summers in Jackson could be just like stepping into a Claude Monet painting…if your eyesight was fucking trash. Not to say that his work is because it certainly isn’t! Okay so maybe comparing Jackson’s views to Claude’s artistic touch was not the best choice but one would be lying if they couldn’t appreciate his delicate focus being on light and color rather than the scene. What you’re trying to say is, Summers in Jackson tend to have a soft glow over the landscape that felt dreamy like.

You were completely content sitting by the edge of lake, arms folded and face resting against your arms that were perched up against your knees. Jeans disregarded by your bag leaving you in a white sleeveless tee and your underwear. The sun wasn’t burning your skin, it provided just the right amount of warmth that felt like a caress while there was a flutter of a breeze from the water that lapped at your toes. This wouldn’t be your first time coming to this lake, normally it consisted of a group of you, which included the patrol team or just you, Jesse, Dina, and Ellie.

Today you were only here with Jesse, who already made himself one with the water and you were just getting ready to doze off when his deep voice calls out to you.

“You coming in at some point today or are you gonna stay over there like a bump on a log?”

Slowly lifting your head, you gave the man a flat look, “What’s it to you? I thought we were doing the whole silent treatment method?”

It had come as a shock with you arriving back in Jackson during mid-winter after leaving years ago to Mexico with your family. Jesse wasn’t sure how to react but he woke up that day knowing that something was about to change. You weren’t back with your family standing beside you but there was a man that held onto you like he needed to.

That’s when Jesse learned that you moved on, something that shouldn’t have surprised him since he also did the same (not really) but it was the fact that you were basically married to the guy, which felt like his kidneys had been punched out. However not long after being back in Jackson and being accepted by Maria and Tommy, Jesse learned that your husband was terminally ill. He figured it out as you knew he would.

Jesse was always the type of guy to focus on the details, lay them all out, weigh them, and then act. He was a thinker, a planner, something you learned quickly over the two weeks you got to know him.

“I talk to you,” Jesse denied, “Do we not work together? Share a home?”

After your common law marriage expired, you couldn’t stand being in the bungalow home alone, it was without question where you decided to stay and Jesse hardly hesistated as he got a good look of you that night on his porch.

He let you in.

He never could really get you out.

You scoff, “That’s a routine, Jesse. We don’t really talk.”

“I was giving you space.”

“Well maybe I don’t want space anymore.”

His eyes really settle in on you then, taking you in more than usual at your words. Jesse deeply inhaled before beckoning you forward, “Then come here.”

Somehow his tone felt like warm tea when you had a cold, making you feel better almost instantly. You did get to your feet, stepping into the water that it only held your ankles. You rubbed at your arms, studying the lake and looking over at Jesse who was patient.

“What if I drown?”

Jesse lightly shakes his head, almost biting back a smile, “I’m not going to let you drown!”

Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you make work of getting covered by the waist from the water, still standing a great distance from Jesse. He realizes you’re not going to move much further, not without his guidance, so he meets you half way. You almost flinch when his hands become seen from the water, his fingertips a whisper as they touch your elbows, to untangle your arms from your frame.

“Breathe. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” He almost dips his head, trying to catch your eyes as you’re staring down at the water, which you can’t even see the rest of your body beneath and that makes your heart rate spike even more.

His hand tilts your chin to gaze back at his eyes. “Just keep your eyes on me while I take the lead, okay?”

“It’s too cold!” You almost whine as your hands move to grip his forearms tightly, while the lake wrapped around the both of you like another danger the state of the world threw on you.

Jesse puffs out a laugh, “No excuses. You said you wanted to learn so let’s learn. Swimming is an important skill to have, especially with what we’re up against.”

You don’t answer because you already know. The things you’ve seen in Mexico was enough to lose sleep forever, which is why you couldn’t stay there. Not after losing everything…and coming back here was a major risk, it was a shock to many that you were still alive…including yourself.

Jesse can see that you’re lost in thought, something you did a lot more now compared to back then. He wants to sink in there himself, ease your mind really because you never talked about Mexico…didn’t have to, he could see it with the way you carried yourself now so he has to respect it and would be there when you were ready.

Your fingers are trailing over his skin now, like he’s your plain canvas waiting for you to create whatever your mind speaks. You weren’t very good at painting but expression was always important. It wasn’t something you gave up, even if you sucked at it but it gave you peace.

“Alright,” Jesse murmurs, “Let’s float before you swim first. That way you’ll know how to keep yourself from sinking. Lean slow like you’re lying on a bed.”

Snorting you say, “What’s a bed? Me and real beds don’t get along.”

This Jesse is also aware of. When you decided to live with him, he felt insulted that you wouldn’t take the only bed in the house, assuming that you thought he had someone else in there—which wasn’t the case or even the first thing you thought about—it’s just that you panic with beds now after your partner passed in his sleep beside you. It was triggering so sleeping in the living room on the couch was your best bet.

Jesse screwed up his back constantly by sleeping in the sitting chair or on the floor right beside you but he always wanted to make you feel safe.

Your hips touch his briefly before he gently guides you back into the water, his arm supports the back of your head as the water laps at your spine, making you clench your eyes shut in fear, throat tightening some, like rocks settled in your lungs.

Jesse keeps his brown eyes on your face, voice low, “Trust me and just breathe. You’re not alone out here, I’m with you.”

“…did you ever think I’d make it back?” You whisper, trying to focus on Jesse’s presence, like he isn’t a daydream, like he’s really here and wouldn’t let go of you to sink to the bottom of the lake.

Jesse pauses, “I wouldn’t allow myself to. I had to keep moving and only hoped for the best and that you were okay somewhere,” his eyes trail all over your face, you can feel them even with your eyes closed, “But even if you hadn’t…traces of you still remained. Some people just really never vanish, just soak in. Stayed.”

There’s a pause for a moment that you faintly hear the birds in the distance before Jesse tosses in, “Especially with that shitty painting you gave me one birthday.”

That gets you to peek one eye open.

There’s amusement in his eyes, reminiscent of easy memories with him. Jesse sneaking in as you tried to teach the kids of Jackson about art, you got pushed to entertaining the kids instead of the older crowd that needed art as a escape or hobby—you tried not to take it personally since you knew you weren’t here for a long time; just temporary but you knew your reason for art wasn’t to be a snob. It was simply an outlet through the madness and once you understand that about yourself, you carried yourself better.

“You kept it?” Your voice is hoarse.

Jesse smirks, “I hid it. Thought about crumbling it up and tossing it. I remembered you being so proud to give it to me too. That it was some challenge you had for the kids to only use three colors since life gives you limits or some shit. When the saying is supposed to be lemons.”

You laugh, “Same thing! And those art snobs here would have learned to love me…if I had stayed.”

Jesse smiles, “They don’t deserve a second chance anyway.”

He eases his hands from underneath your head and body, testing your balance. And to your surprise you’re floating. Uneven and a little shaky but you’re doing it, all on your own.

Blinking up at the creamsicle summer sky, it doesn’t feel as huge anymore.

The quiet isn’t bothersome, not even the echo as the water laps around the both of you, your breath evens out, and Jesse remains the warmth against the cool of the liquid that surrounds you. You slowly let your arms drift out beside you, water spreading between your fingers, weightless.

Jesse watches you carefully, not moving or wanting to break your spell.

You don’t sink.

A soft smile spreads across your tired features and soon your fingers find Jesse’s wrist beyond the water. It catches him off guard at first, you tugging him just as you sit up with various emotions. A laugh of a sob spills from your lips as your face makes contact with Jesse’s damp and bare skin.

“I didn’t think I’d float either.” You murmur just as his hands circle around you.

His chin rests against the top of your head, squeezing you to his frame, “I told you I got you.”

Jesse’s warmth never really left your canvas.

Together, you stay.

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Continue with my summer anthology prompts here.

[neverthatsirius-jo]

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓

summary — after the halloween night incident, a misunderstanding leads to a fight, which consequently leads to your first kiss with spencer.

content — bau!reader x spencer reid, fluff, friends to lovers, there’s only one bed oh nooo, arguing and some jealousy, reader is a bit mean in this one and is still scared of feelings.

word count — 4.2k

a/n — moral of the story: if i ever give a posting date, add to that three to five business day. also the case in this one is inspired by s05e21, and there’s another part inspired by s04e09. some pieces of dialogue are from those episodes too. i can’t look at this fic anymore because i edited it a hundred times and then i realized that i had been mixing past and present tense!! fun!! and also i'm fighting the urge to re-write both this one and the first part in present tense. i don’t know which i like better yet. we’ll see. i’m so sorry about the title puns. i cannot escape them. if i left the wrong tense somewhere, i’m sorry, my brain is fried. this turned out to be much longer than i expected (that's what she said sorry)

← part one

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“𝐖𝐎𝐖...”

You were standing in front of a wooden cabin, surrounded by snow, and you could make out the back scenery full of pine trees delightfully adorned with the same white that covered the ground beneath your feet. You smiled resignedly at the ironic timing, not at the circumstances that had brought you there, as you stood by the door with your team. Spencer by your side, of course. Like always, but not quite.

You hadn’t been trying to ignore him the entire week. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself, anyone who asked, and Spencer himself the few times he’d asked if something was amiss.

It had been a busy week, you felt awkward after what had happened on Halloween, even more so by his silence about it, and you just weren’t as inclined to initiate conversation like usual. No matter this, Spencer had treated you normally, or as normally as you’d let him, all week despite the lingering awkwardness that you both carried since the Halloween get-together fiasco.

You were in the small—the population no more than fifteen hundred people—fishing town of Franklin, Alaska. The sheriff had called for the team’s assistance to help with the investigation of a series of murders that had been committed in the span of that same week. He had taken the time also to personally show you to where you’d be staying. A cabin of considerable size made of dark wooden logs with a big white sign that read ‘Karen’s Tavern’ in tall, brown letters.

“We have four of the upstairs rooms available,” the woman that had all but rolled her eyes at you when you tried to offer her a smile when you came in announced.

“Four?” Spencer asked. The same woman offered him a ‘what can you do?’ smile. Of course. It was your turn to roll your eyes then.

“Come on, that’s the best we can do,” Sheriff Rhodes said. “Your team is double the size of my department.”

They both bid their goodbyes and let your team to decide on room assignments before you had to meet at the station. 

“I’m not sleeping with Reid,” Morgan was the first to speak up. Penelope quickly claimed him to be her roommate for the night, slapping her hand onto his.

After Penelope everyone started partnering up before you could even open your mouth to say anything. JJ got with Emily, Hotch with Rossi, and everyone kind of assumed you and Spencer would be sharing. You accepted your faith silently and, with Spencer close behind, brought your suitcases up to your room. You didn’t spare it a glance; you left your luggage behind the door and trotted back down the stairs to listen to what your assignments would be.

“You three.” Hotch pointed to Morgan, Spencer, and finally to you. “I want you to go talk to the bar owner’s daughter. She was the last person to see or to talk to our last victim. She may have noticed something weird, heard a conversation…”

You three nodded at the same time and wasted no time before going out into the cold with a small map you had grabbed from the tavern’s counter in hand.

You chose to walk in silence while Morgan and Spencer bantered their way to the bar, preferring to relish on the crunch sound the snow made with every step you took and nothing else. The same cold that gave way to the snow didn’t take long to get to you as you quickly realized your button-up shirt wasn’t ideal for the climate. Spencer noticed it too, giving you a sideways glance when he heard your teeth clattering. Not breaking up conversation he took off his coat and placed it on your shoulders. With things being awkward as is, you accepted it with a nod and put your arms through it silently.

When you got to the bar the first thing you noticed, and felt, was the chimney to the left that hosted a warm, welcoming fire. It prompted you to give Spencer his coat back. There were quite a few people, most sitting on stools at the large wooden bar, at that time of day. You hadn’t even finished taking your coat off when a young woman approached the three of you—although she was clearly more interested in talking to Morgan; not even sparing a glance at you or Spencer—to ask Morgan if he was the one leading the investigation, and asking him questions about it and the job. For a moment you thought she might be the owner’s daughter you were supposed to talk to, but as the questions seemed to grow more personal and less about the investigation you took a quick look at the bar, where there was a woman preparing drinks, and realized she wasn’t. Forgetting your little ignoring game for a second, you side-eyed Spencer who was turning his head to you, at the exact same time. You both suppressed a smile and stepped to the side to let Morgan do his thing, pretending to look at your map.

Once they’d finished—and Morgan had politely rejected her number—he turned around, his trademark charming smile still on his face.

“How?” Spencer asked.

“What?” Morgan asked back, following the girl with his eyes as she left the establishment behind you. He only returned his eyes to Spencer when you heard the bell chime.

“Every case, you get at least one girl’s number.”

“I didn’t get it,” Morgan corrected.

“And she’ll be crying over it tonight, I’m sure,” you teased as you folded and pocketed the map.

“You know what, pretty boy?” He lifted his index finger. “I bet you could get the bartender to give you her number.”

Both you and Spencer turned rapidly to look at him surprised.

“Ha ha. Funny,” Spencer said.

“Trust.” He wrapped his arm around Spencer’s shoulder, leaning in like he was about to let him in on a secret. “When you’re talking, what makes you feel like an expert?”

Spencer didn’t have to think much before answering. “Statistics.”

“Well, that’s not gonna cut it. Something else.”

“Well—when I do magic?” Spencer answered, doubtfully. You watched the conversation like you would a tennis match. Except this wasn’t as entertaining and you didn’t know how to ease the frown on your face.

“See? That’s nice. Chicks dig magic,” Morgan said, nodding his head with a smile. “Now come on. Go and do some magic.” He grabbed Spencer by the shoulders and sent him in direction to the bar with an encouraging pat to his back.

Your frown deepened as you turned to Derek. “What are you doing? We’re working.”

“Uh-huh, and if pretty boy over there succeeds she’ll be more predisposed to giving us information.” He squinted his eyes. “What? You’re jealous?”

“What? No!” You responded. Too quickly, judging by Derek’s all-knowing smile.

Not able to tear your eyes from where your friend was performing one of his classic magic tricks, you rolled your eyes as the girl took out a dollar bill from her barrette wide-eyed. She flashed him a beautiful smile as she handed Spencer the bottle of water he was buying.

“Why do you look like you’re going to start blowing smoke out of your ears then?”

But you weren’t listening anymore. “What’s there to talk about so much?”

“Hello?”

“I mean this is a serious case; there are four people dead. What are they laughing about? Come on.” You crossed your arms, tearing your eyes away from the scene.

“Hey!”

“What?!” You finally snapped your head back to look at him.

“I was talking to you. You’re in your own world.”

You sighed, trapping the air as it came out into a pout. “Sorry.”

“You know it’d be so much easier for everyone if you both stopped being so goddamn stubborn. Kid over there is head over heels for you and from where I’m standing right here it looks like you are too. What the hell are you both playing at?”

A horrible, stupid blush crept from your neck up to the very point of your years. Though everyone always joked, and teased, and alluded, no one had ever been so direct about the subject. “It’s none of your business,” you murmured, rubbing your forearms in search of some form of heat you didn’t need to keep your hands busy.

“You got me there.” He shrugged. “Just think about it.”

Just as Morgan was finishing with his lecture, Spencer came back with the bottle of water in his hands and a dumb smile plastered across his face.

“You saw that?” He asked Derek, beaming proudly.

“Sure I did.” He eyed you, but you pretended not to notice as you looked away. “I told you, you could do it.”

“Okay, now. What about the victim? Did she give you anything useful or were you just thirsty?” you cut them off, trying not to be too harsh with your tone.

The lack of response from him as he took a few seconds to compose himself was enough to tell you had failed. You decided you were going to bite your tongue for the evening and that you did, speaking no more than was necessary as you spent the rest of the day carrying out Hotch’s orders and focusing your mind completely on solving the case. You would have plenty of time to wallow in your self-pity when you got to your room.

You weren’t really upset about the flirting per se. It had never bothered you before. You understood your feelings weren’t a set of laws he had to abide by so as to not hurt them; much less when he didn’t even know about them. There had been plenty of times in the eight years you had known him where girls swarmed to his side, batting their eyelashes, and giving him compliments. You didn’t mind watching them drool over him, you couldn’t blame them and you would have been a hypocrite to do so. He was mostly none the wiser to all of it but that’s not why you didn’t mind. You just weren’t overly jealous, much less in cases like this.

He even had been on a date last year. He had told you about it, before and after, and you had helped him ignoring any kind of negative feelings that may have brought up. But you had never, ever, felt how you did right now.

A horrible, confusing mixture of anger, upset, and betrayal, which was unwarranted if you took into account you weren’t anything other than friends. You guessed it was your fault for stupidly thinking there was a silent ‘yet’ addendum to the ‘no more than friends’ now after what had happened last week, the way he had looked at you, the way he’d had you in his arms. 

You weren’t expecting him to ignore the subject completely. Sure, he wasn’t ignoring you in the way you were him, but in your mind you couldn’t help but think that he was just playing with you that night last week. That he had figured you out and wanted to test his theory; to test if you really had the silly schoolgirl-like crush he had come to conclude you had. Scientific method or whatever. 

In your heart, in your soul you knew that couldn’t be the truth. Spencer wasn’t capable of being that cruel; not to anyone but especially not to you. But not finding any logic to his attitude—not even after replaying the moment in your mind over and over again obsessively—you had thrown yours out the window too.

You kept your silence even as you reached the room you’d be sharing, as you held the door for him to come in after you, and as you started unpacking some of your things for the next day.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, once you’d finish violently folding your fifth piece of clothing atop the bed.

You thought it would be a bit weird—not to mention rude—to not respond, so you finally broke the silence. “Me? I’m perfectly fine. You?”

He kept quiet while he watched you finish taking everything out of your carry-on.

“I asked you a question and I’d like a real answer.” He was still a few steps from the door beside his own suitcase. “I thought we were better than this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You turned around, squinting your eyes, challenging him to respond.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked first.”

“Oh, my god.” He interlaced his fingers on top of his head and spun around to turn his back on you.

You grabbed the pile of folded clothing, with such force that you scrapped any folding you had done, making them a ball of wrinkly clothes again. You still went ahead and threw them in the small drawer that Spencer wasn’t using.

“Why are you upset?” He tried again, once he had regained some patience.

“I’m not.”

“The clothes would beg to disagree.”

That broke you a little bit. You turned around to not give in and show him the tiniest—not so tiny—hint of a smile. It wasn’t even that funny but he had that effect.

“I just wanna solve this case.”

“We’ve solved worse.” He said; he was right. “Was it something I did?”

You turned to look at him ready to snap with a sarcastic comment again, but all you saw was sincerity in his eyes. It wasn’t just because you were profilers that you could read each other like a book. You knew he wasn’t playing dumb, much less playing games.

You sighed. “No, Spencer. Just let it go, okay?”

“I don’t want to. You’ve been weird the entire time since we got here. It’s almost like you want nothing to do with me.” His voice was soft. “That not to mention this entire week.” He sounded hurt.

“I’m sure you can drown your sorrows at the bar when this is all over, Spencer.” You hated yourself for just having to throw the snarky comment his way. “Maybe you’ll get free drinks.” So mature of you, to bottle it all up, to be so scared of communicating your own feelings that it all becomes a ticking time bomb for whoever’s had the bad luck to cross your path.

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The bartender. Didn’t she give you her number? I gotta say the dollar magic trick is quite the charmer, Spencer.” Once you had started, you couldn’t stop though. You had to cough up the venom that was consuming you inside.

“I didn’t take it. We’re working a case.”

“Ah, yes. We are now.” You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth and went back to the drawer to fold your clothes again. You needed to keep yourself busy with something.

“What? Is that what you’re mad about?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded incredulous.

“Why would I be?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” You asked mockingly.

“No it doesn’t. Especially considering I’m not the one who sprinted out of the kitchen.” The sentence out of context threw you off for just a few seconds. You snorted when you caught on.

“Sorry?”

He snickered back. “Don’t play dumb.”

“Emily was calling me!” You pointed to a wall in the room, as if Emily had been there.

“Yeah! And you were really eager to respond!” He nodded along as he spoke, eyes wide.

You wanted to lie, to laugh in his face, and pretend he was speaking nonsense. You couldn’t. Not to him, not with anything. You opted for silence.

“You didn’t say anything the next day, you seemed uncomfortable; I didn’t want to push you to talk about it, I just took your silence as a way to gently reject me, which is fine!”

You blinked; you were now even more confused.

“I don’t know what today was. I don’t really do that st—Morgan was just… being Morgan.”

You shook your head. “You think I rejected you?”

He shook his head back, mirroring you. “Not saying anything after I tried to make the first move, wouldn’t you consider that a rejection?”

“What first move?”

“Come on.” He tilted his head, eyes pleading for you to let down your walls and speak your mind.

“I thought you were trying to hug me. Maybe you needed a hug.”

“If you thought it was only a hug, how come it was your first thought when I said first move?”

He didn’t need the 187 IQ to figure that out, but you cursed it in your mind anyway.

“You mentioned it first, maybe you forgot.”

“No, I didn’t. I have an eidetic memory.”

You could curse that now. “Maybe it’s not as fool proof as you thought.”

“We’re getting derailed.”

“Point still stands, I never said anything about rejecting you.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to say something.”

“Well, say something now.” You’d never heard this kind of rawness in his voice. He was almost begging you to say something; not what he wanted to hear, just something. “Did you? Want me to kiss you?”

Having him put it into words made you want to cringe and curl up in a ball and hide underneath the sheets not to come out again until the team had to get back to Virginia. You froze.

“I—” You licked your lips. A nervous tick. “I don’t know.”

He mirrored your action. You don’t know how but he kept his eyes on you. You couldn’t.

“That’s fine,” he says after a few seconds.

You both stood still, frozen in time. You looking at the floor, him at the ceiling. After some time of unbearable silence—not the kind you take refuge in—you decided playing statues was making matters worse so you decided to start preparing for bed like nothing was happening. He didn’t follow, still stuck to the same spot you left him in, until after you had come out of the bathroom and buried yourself under the sheets.

You didn’t address the obvious issue; the singular, smaller than you’d wish bed. You only did so when you caught him walking away with his pillow in direction to the armchair in the corner of the room out of the corner of your eye. You sacrificed the warmth of the comforter and silently made your way over to him. He looked up at you. He didn’t do it intentionally, you knew, but he looked up at you like a kicked puppy. You extended your hand, he hesitated for a moment before taking it and you ushered him to the side of the bed you’d decided was his. You pushed him down, throwing him on the bed to then go back to your side trying to suppress your smile. You got in facing away from him.

“I don’t mind sleeping in th—” he started.

“Shut up.”

“You.”

You smiled. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was too.

The silence that followed left way for all you wanted to say to him and couldn’t seem to. You cursed yourself in your mind. ‘I don’t know?’ Of course you knew. You wanted to turn around and kiss him senseless until you couldn’t anymore and had to give your irritated lips a break. You also knew though, you weren’t one to change ways when something worked. You and Spencer worked; at least you used to.

The mental image of him at the bar, with the owner’s daughter, came back to your mind. You wanted to scream. At yourself mostly. You didn’t have any right to act like you just did. In a way, he was right. He had taken the first step, and all your subsequent actions were of rejection, even if that wasn’t what you had meant to do.

“Spence,” you called. “I’m going to say something and don’t interrupt me because if you do I will take a silence oath for life.”

He smiled as you turned around, tangling the sheets. “Okay.”

“I didn’t ignore you because I wanted to let you down gently. I ignored you because I was scared. I care about us, and I’m stupidly bad at relationships but I like you. I have for years, maybe even longer than you have. As more than a friend.”

He listened, nodding along awkwardly, his head on his hand, and his lips pursed into a tight line, to signal that he had no intentions of interrupting.

“I saw you with the bar girl and all of a sudden I wanted to change career paths and become an unsub myself, which is really unfair because you didn’t do anything. I know this is all my fault. I know that my not talking issue led to all of this and I really didn’t want to ignore you but—this is what I am, Spencer, and if you want to curse me out for being so goddamn stupid and kick me out, that’s fine. I’ll have Garcia let me sleep on the floor,” you half-joked. You were out of breath, and your face was all red and hot to the touch.

“You done?”

You nodded.

“Firstly, this is not entirely your fault. I didn’t say anything either and since I know how you are, I could’ve.”

You wanted to contradict him but he had respected your time talking so you wanted to do that for him too.

“Secondly, I don’t think you’re stupid. And if you call yourself stupid for that then you’re also calling me stupid, in which case I feel offended.”

Your smile turned downwards.

“Thirdly… I’m going to kiss you now. That okay?”

You pushed past the knee-jerk instinct to want to push him away and nodded.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours in the gentlest kiss you’ve ever been given. It had no right giving you the same adrenaline kick that you get on a rollercoaster. Just a chaste peck on the lips. Lips meeting lips for the first time.

‘Hi, it’s good to finally meet.’      

‘I know.’

It brings you back to the innocence of not having been kissed and the butterflies in your stomach as you sit next to your crush in a circle at a friend’s birthday party.

‘I don’t really know what I’m doing but I like you and this is what people do when they like each other.’

He backed up to scan your face. You were still leaning forward, dazed. You felt so much you wanted to scream. Or at least run and jump around the room to waste some of the energy that you felt coursing through your veins, tickling you. You didn’t do that, though.

You all but threw yourself at him, he had to grab you by your elbows, to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, hungry, wanting. If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have taken him more than the two seconds it did to match your fervid rhythm.

‘I’ve not stopped wanting you for a second all these years and I’m sorry I let you believe otherwise.’

He gently went moving his hand up to your neck, right below your jaw, thumb on your cheek with the rest of his fingers below your ear, slowly guiding you to a more leisured pace.

‘We have time’

He smiled against the kiss. 

You didn’t speak another word that night. You fell asleep soon after, there had been a lot of work to do the next day and before being two idiots in love, you were profilers. His hand laid on top of yours, where it belonged. No matter how many times your hands let go throughout the night, they made sure to meet again before your alarm woke you up. You didn’t let go when you stepped out of bed, stretching your arms until you were only attached by your pinky fingers, trying not to trip. You had to inevitably separate when you changed out of your sleeping clothes but you joined them again to walk down the stairs to the lobby to meet the team.

“Well, well. Would you look at that.” Morgan raised an eyebrow. He’d always been the one to tease you both the most. Following a close behind was Garcia, who was trying to suppress a smile beside him. In his mind he probably thought his words to you had made this happen. Maybe they had. Now it was your turn to figure out what ‘this’ was.

You stuck your tongue out to him behind Hotch’s back. 

You couldn’t even remember what the fight you’d had the previous night had been about or why you’d eluded him the whole week. Maybe communicating wasn’t so bad nor were your feelings a thing to be so scared of. The world hadn’t fallen apart yet, and you couldn’t say you would have minded it in that moment, with Spencer caressing your hand with his thumb.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are appreciated <3

back to masterlist

[matchalovertrait]

She's baaaaaack!! 🥳 Dulce felt more than ready to return, but she was hesitant after remembering how many people turned their backs on her. Having haters over trivial matters was one thing. Receiving backlash from career-ending allegations was another thing. It hurt that people actually believed all the nonsense. However, that shouldn't bother her, right? She knew what she signed up for when she chose this career.

Dulce circled around and around trying to finally film her comeback video. Yet, she couldn't. Every time she sat down and attempted it, it felt weird. Like she almost forgot how to record and act in front of the camera. Then, something happened.

One night, she stumbled upon Fiora Lothario's livestream. "Yay, I caught it just in time!" She was on a different account to remain anonymous. People didn't have to know her every move... and there was a tiny part of her that feared Fiora viewed her differently now. It was an irrational thought that she couldn't help.

When another viewer, "kitty giordano," asked Fiora if she heard about the Alegría v. Caruso outcome, Dulce's eyes widened. Those eyes softened with sadness as "kitty" continued on, defending Caruso. Dulce didn't know when she became so sensitive again, but she was ready to log off until Fiora began sharing her opinion. She gave a profound, in-depth response in Dulce's defense.

And the passionate flame inside Dulce reignited, just like that. Fiora was right. There could be another female chef out there getting her ideas robbed by a man. Not only her ideas, but maybe the confidence and willpower to keep going as well. Dulce had to persist. She couldn't let Caruso or people like him win. And she had to inspire others to move forward, too.

So, Dulce is back, and with the people who matter most by her side. No liars, no flakes, and no blind worshippers.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

NOTE: Thanks to @deardiaryts4 and @abbysimsfun for suggesting I do something with the promo-like photo of Dulce and Antonio! I made a little gossip magazine article :) You guys are awesome, always hyping me up and giving advice or feedback when I seek it.

NOTE: Thank you to @citylighten for writing about the court case! Just like Fiora reignited something in Dulce, you did the same for me. Seeing my character/story discussed even though they haven't been on the dashboard in weeks struck something in me.

NOTE: We are going back to my old way of posting! A mix of fun gameplay, pretty and simple screenshots, and in-depth dialogue-filled posts. This is how we roll over here 😎

[ultimavela]

This week’s post comes late because I had to deal with some annoying tonsillitis at the end of the previous week, and after three days of feeling well, I got the flu.

I guess that looking back at the previous months, this year has been much difficult regarding sickness. I have experienced a streak of four out of five months getting some kind of mild illness. Probably my immunity is low, maybe is the wear and tear of a body that has been homesick for years, or maybe it's the world situation, the uncertainty, the global outlook, which, without a community, looks pretty bleak (that is one of the reasons why this year I plan to return to my country, to return to the communities with which I maintain tides, to create more communities, to carve out a space for action in the city, so as not to feel stagnant, paralyzed, and hopefully, create life in the voids left by a system that in many respects does not seem to work).

So today I just wanted to share with you some of the things that have given me joy this month, things that have helped me feel better about the world, things that have helped me have fun, or things that have inspired me in some way.

Probably, I will try to make one of these posts monthly.

As in a previous post, I already talked about “The Dawn of Everything: A new history of humanity” by David Graeber and David Wengrow, and how this book has influenced my worldbuilding (and my vision of history and society in general), I’m tagging that post as the first “Monthly recommendations”, making this the second entry in an effort to share the things I have read, played with, listened to, or watched.

So let’s begin, today I will start easy with only two recommendations:

“Black Leopard, Red Wolf” by Marlon James

This is a little of a cheating, because I read it some months ago, but I returned to it again as I started to read the second volume of this trilogy.

But in any case, I wanted to leave it here as a recommendation, as in it I found a voice that helped me feel excited about fantasy again.

The book is written following the tale of an unreliable narrator, and the language that he uses is very particular, is feral, is fast, is emotional, and the way the words flow give as many weight to whom this character is, and how the world around him behaves, as the things he say.

The world on this book has drawn from African history and mythology, and I think that the prose in it helps a lot to make this world feel distinctive.

Some weeks ago I read a post (that I haven’t been able to find again) of someone talking about the future of sword and sorcery as a genre and, in some ways, I feel that this book hits a lot of the emotions that ones feel when reading sword and sorcery books, while bringing with it a lot more. It is a beautiful, non-eurocentric world with powerful prose and mesmerizing imagery. Be warned, however, that there are scenes of considerable violence, which are not recommended for all readers.

"Drova - Forsaken Kin" by Just 2D

This is an isometric pixel RPG action game, influenced by classics like “Gothic”, and is inspired by Celtic mythology.

What I loved about this game is the feeling of discovery and the way it plunges you into the world without any guidance (don’t expect to have a “live map” or any kind of guide for the quests). Here, every letter that you find, every crafting material that you collect, every person to whom you talk, every item, feels special because there is no easy way to know what or whom is more important to your goals; the only way is to interact with the game.

In respect to mechanics, I loved how the designers included some very simple particular mechanics or procedures that make the game feel more diverse, and when you find each one of these mechanics, it feels like a discovery.

Although the narrative is simple, I felt the world was beautiful, it has some magical moments and a constant underlying sense of how magic is tied to nature, how divinity is nature, which really makes the end of the game feel special.

.....................

I hope these two small recommendations inspire you, or at least give you some fun. Next week, I expect to return for the tables of the travel procedure for “No Peace for the Heathen”.

[from-a-legends-pov]

Star Wars Legends Highlight of the Week: Dorset Guards the Fake Falcon

In this feature, a fan will share one thing they love from Star Wars Legends — a book, a comic, an author, a character, a scene, an event, or anything else they want to highlight — and tell us more about it.

If you, too, love Legends, follow @from-a-legends-pov and check out our From a Legends Point of View fanfiction event, where we’ll be bringing together writers (maybe you?) to build a collection of Star Wars Legends fanfiction set during the time of the Original Trilogy. Writer signups are open through June 2 — use our Signup Form to pitch your story concepts (Signup Guidelines available here), and please encourage your favorite writers to participate!

Today’s Legends highlight is a scene from Aaron Allston’s novel X-Wing: Solo Command in which Polearm Squadron pilot Dorset Konnair is guarding the Millennium Falsehood in battle (after working with the Falsehood to mimic a YT-2400 freighter), and we’re talking with WraithFourteen.

Tell us about your Legends highlight. What is it? What’s it about?

My highlight involves a scene in X-Wing: Solo Command where Wedge and other characters are flying a fake Millennium Falcon as bait to lure forces of the main villain, Warlord Zsinj. There’s several notable elements, including a protocol droid wearing a Han Solo mask and clothes because Wedge can’t speak the Wookiee language to Chewie, but my focus is on the single fighter assigned to guard the fake Falcon (called the Millennium Falsehood) here - and how baiting the enemy in this case meant taking on two full squadrons of TIE Interceptors.

What makes this a highlight for you? What do you love about it?

This scene stands out for a few reasons, but especially because it involves Dorset Konnair, a more minor character from the Wraith Squadron trilogy, flying an A-Wing to escort the Falsehood. Dorset was in just three scenes before this — two in Wraith Squadron flying with Kell Tainer, and one in this book depicting her a small, quiet woman with a star-flare tattoo around her right eye and others that are unspecified but also varying shades of blue.

During this scene, Dorset logs at least two kills and outflies the other enemy pilots despite their numbers. Since Rogue Squadron ace Tycho Celchu previously flew an X-Wing in the Falsehood escort role, it’s also subtly impressive that Dorset was selected in the first place. This implies to me that Dorset is a capable minor character who doesn’t brag about it, sort of like Wedge was in the OT movies.

Fellow pilot Myn Donos had interpreted her quiet nature to be a sign she felt out of place as a native of Coruscant, the former Imperial capital. That and her tattoos created a bit of mystery around her even when I first read the novel as a kid.

Do you have a favorite detail or moment?

Going back to the bit where Dorset’s A-Wing detaches from the YT-1300, it reminded me, even when I first read the book, of how small planes would be dropped from a larger one in the late 1940s through mid-1960s. That was mostly done with test planes (like the first supersonic flight depicted in The Right Stuff) but also attempted unsuccessfully with a tiny fighter jet. It helped that I’d seen both that tiny jet and the larger plane that carried it at a museum as a kid.

The YT-2400 shell being dropped away as well also reminded me of how the Apollo program’s rocket had lower sections and rings that were detached along the way to the Moon - an image of that inspired how I envisioned the book scene. (As you’ve probably noticed, I was really into stories of air/space exploration as a kid, and so the pilots were what drew me into Star Wars. I also had a hand-drawn image of the first supersonic plane being released on my wall as a kid, similar to the “you can’t look dignified when you’re having fun” OP.)

To learn more…

If you’d like to read more about Dorset and the Millennium Falsehood, check out X-Wing: Solo Command at your library or favorite bookstore, or read the entry on Dorset Konnair or the Millennium Falsehood on Wookieepedia.

And be sure to check out @from-a-legends-pov and our From a Legends Point of View fanfiction event. Writer signups are now open — access the Signup Form (step-by-step Signup Guidelines available here) as well as our Event Overview and FAQ.

[shyfoxsky]

Photo Credits: Paul Hamelin

Discourse among the therian and broader alterhuman community has really ramped up in recent weeks, and I'm not exactly the happiest about it. Through the slow deaths of corners of the community on other sites, scandals that make me uncomfortable with using those that still have some discussion occurring on them, and rampant misinformation and a lack of personal introspection and discovery on the last few remaining after that, Tumblr really feels like the last website for me until a new one comes up that I can actually be part of the wider community with, and now it's starting to become a chore to log on and see what's new. My mate has heard the brunt of my feelings on it all, and I think that even he is getting a little tired of it, and he's not even a therian or watching the community.

Because of all this, I've started journaling to myself offline. Most of my posts on here, especially recently, have been received as if my blog has been made invisible. I usually spend over an hour, sometimes multiple, to curate the entries I post and find and credit photos to go with them, and to make sure what I say is coherent and mindful of others, even when it's just about some shift or personal revelation I had. It's getting a little frustrating, I can't lie. I know that this is my personal journey, not every post is going to catch attention, and that Tumblr is more geared towards personal connections and small circles, but man. Maybe I'm too used to posting on YouTube and Instagram, but it still sucks.

My brain is hard-wired for the numbers game of social media, to be fair. It's why I post so many multi-paragraph essays onto the same dash that has mutuals sharing what sandwich they ate that day (nothing wrong with that by the way, just not my style), because that was what others were interested in on YouTube and Instagram. A few years ago, when some of my accounts got so popular that I got recognized in other corners of the community, other therians saw what I posted and felt inspired by it. Every time I posted, I would get likes, feedback, and more motivation to continue to interact and share with my community. Here on Tumblr, the lack of interaction has just crushed my desire to post. Why go through the trouble of perfecting an essay if nobody is going to read it? That's not to say I need people to go insane over every little thing I post, some entries are just better than others, and a lot has changed since I reliably got that level of interaction online, I just don't think that how Tumblr is structured is right for me.

Compare this to my personal journal entries, which take much less time, as they're essentially just word vomit. I get to just ramble on as much as I want with no need to go in and edit for flow or even to take out unnecessary sentences. If I want to let out my thoughts about how the vintage feel of Bambi reminds me of college, educational nature centers, old naturalist literature, and wildlife illustrations, which reminds me of me being a fox, I couldn't properly articulate in a post on here if I tried, but I could just throw it down in a thick paragraph in my own journal and go about my day. There's no pressure or disappointment in it, because nobody sees it but me. It's there for me to get my thoughts out and look back on, and it's nice.

All of this is to say that I'm likely going to slow down and post a lot less for the foreseeable future. I don't think I have it in me to both keep up with community debates and post at the same time. My mental health has been suffering due to it all, and that's not good for me, my journey, or those around me. I actually went biking with my dad and sister a couple of days ago, I touched some fucking grass, and the entire time, not once did I think about the community or what heated argument was going on, but I did think about myself as a fox, how I would act and feel in that environment. It was wholesome and reminded me of when I first awakened and used my identity as reason enough to go outside and be with nature, the thing that led to me getting the college degree I have today. I miss that. I miss watching therian tributes and getting excited when I saw my species. I miss watching tail unboxings. I miss dreaming about pack meetups where everyone's wearing tails and flannels and beanies. I miss putting fox clothing and plushies on my wishlist for my birthday and Christmas. I've been longing for that personal connection between me, myself, and I, rather than between me and the community. I want to get back to my roots, I've been saying this in just about every other post for a month or two now, and this is the first step. I need to journal more, go outside more, and just be a fox therian, rather than FoxSky on YouTube/Instagram/Tumblr.

I've even thought about leaving the community altogether. That's a really big decision, not one I can or should make in a month or two. The community has highs and lows and fluctuates a lot and may very well swing back towards how it was a bit ago before we hit summer. I've been in it for almost a decade, spent all of my time since I awakened in it, I can't just leave on a whim, and I won't. I think I just need some time at a distance from it to figure out who I want to be and what I want my personal identity to look like. I need to take the time to really ask myself if my life is better solitary or social and put in the work to find that answer. I'm not really taking a break in the sense of not touching this site for awhile, lord knows I can't keep away after I said I was going to take a break to question foxes versus wolves and popped out a post a few days later, but I am going to take a step back and just let myself watch for a bit, try out being an observer and posting less, save my introspection and thoughts for my personal journal, and see what affect that has on me, because I think I deserve happiness and growth and peace as a therian, rather than stress and frustration, whether that comes from the online community or not.

[myca-nisms]

WEEK 1 - First steps toward something greater. (June 18–20, 2025)

June 18, 2025 – Our First Step Today marked the beginning of our internship journey and honestly, I was a mix of nervous and excited. I traveled with Levi and LJ from home to Balay Ilonggo, our dorm at UPV. We left super early, expecting traffic, and after about an hour and a half, we finally arrived at the DILG Regional Office. Of course, we had to snap a quick photo outside the building, it felt like a milestone moment. Stepping inside, I was genuinely happy and excited to finally see the people behind the agency I’ve heard so much about. We spent the whole day in the conference room, waiting to be grouped for the KM Serye and Action Paper. Around 2 p.m., Sir LeeAn gave us a short tour of the building, which made everything feel more real and welcoming. Seeing the actual workspaces and getting familiar with the offices helped me visualize where I’ll be contributing. Later in the day, I was officially assigned to Local Government Monitoring and Evaluation Division (LGMED) which made me even more excited, knowing I’ll be part of a team that supports and evaluates LGUs. Even though it was mostly an orientation day, I already felt a strong sense of purpose. I’m truly grateful to be here.

June 19, 2025 – Starting to Settle In Second day in, and I was already starting to feel more at home. We began with the nationwide earthquake drill, it wasn’t just routine; it reminded me how much importance public offices place on safety and preparedness. One of the most memorable parts of the day was sitting in on a meeting with the LGMED team. Watching them in action gave me a deeper appreciation of how things work behind the scenes, and I felt genuinely grateful to be placed in such an inspiring and fast-paced environment. Later that day, we finally met our mentor, Sir Tonton. He was warm and welcoming, and it felt reassuring to know we had someone to guide us. That’s also when Andy and I got the news, we were officially assigned to the ELGU team: Excellence in Local Governance Upheld. Hearing that made everything feel more real. I remember looking at Andy, and we both smiled, we knew we were in for something meaningful. Everyone we’ve encountered so far has been kind and approachable, which made adjusting so much easier. By the time we logged out through biometrics, I wasn’t just adjusting anymore, I was already looking forward to what’s next.

June 20, 2025 – Feeling Involved and Engaged Our third day was the busiest so far but in the best way. Andy and I were tasked to edit and print some documents, and even though the tasks were simple, it felt great to finally be involved in actual outputs. What made the day even more meaningful was our participation in the PRE-EODB Audit Orientation. Together with LGCDD interns Borgy, Jaztine, and Jace, we joined the session and learned about the processes involved in evaluating the ease of doing business in LGUs. It was an eye-opening experience that gave me a broader view of how different divisions work together for good governance. My groupmates in KM Serye also had the chance to consult our proposed topic for the KM Serye with our mentor, and the feedback we received helped us realign our ideas moving forward. At the end of the day, I felt a growing sense of belonging. We logged out through biometrics like usual but going home was a highlight in itself. On the bus ride back, I had so much fun laughing and chatting with my classmates. It felt refreshing to just unwind and bond with them after a productive day. I got to know them better, and it reminded me how valuable shared experiences like this are not just professionally, but personally too. I ended the day feeling fulfilled, grateful, and even more excited for what’s to come.

[eazy-group]

Carley lost 85 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/carley-lost-85-pounds/

Carley lost 85 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Carley shares how she lost 85 pounds. Her journey started after she experienced a severe panic attack. She began to explore the link between what she was consuming and her mental health, leading her to find a mix of healthy eating habits that worked for her. She also committed to working out.

Social Media: Instagram: @fitwithcarl TikTok: @Carleylauren_

What was your motivation? What inspired you to keep going, even when you wanted to give up? My journey started when I was on a plane ride back from a beautiful tropical vacation. My anxiety had gotten the best of me, and I had a severe panic attack on the flight. It was so bad my smart watch recorded it as a zone 3 cardio workout for 4 hours. My therapist encouraged me to explore the link between what I was consuming and my mental health. I knew I never wanted to feel like that again, and I would do anything I could to prevent that. My journey didn’t start out as a desire to change my body. I was trying to change my mind. 

Once I started eating well and moving more, I realized how much better I felt. My mental health improved dramatically. My relationships with those around me became stronger. I was able to take care of myself in a way I previously wasn’t. I don’t often think about giving up now. The idea of giving up is realizing I would go back to feeling horrible. I’d much rather suffer through a workout for an hour than suffer through life. 

How did you change your eating habits? My dietary changes happened around the same time as C*VID ramped up. I started early on in my journey eating a keto-based diet. Keto was the hot new diet, and it was accessible. I could get meats and veggies sustainably from the market (unlike toilet paper)! Now, I try to eat a higher protein diet to support my exercise. I do include intermittent fasting in my routine. I no longer cut out food groups. I have food freedom and eat whatever I want without guilt. 

What is your workout routine? I focus mainly on strength training, and I have one designated cardio day a week. I enjoy all forms of movement. My most logged exercise is outdoor walks! 

How often did you work out? 3 to 6 days days a week. 

What was your starting weight? What is your current weight? My starting weight was 250 pounds, and now I’m down to 165 pounds.

What is your height? 5’9″

When did you start your journey? How long did your transformation take? I started my journey in December of 2019. My transformation has been ongoing for four years. 

Is weight loss surgery part of your journey? No surgery. 

What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far? Discipline and patience. Before this journey, I was not a disciplined person. If the results weren’t instant, I didn’t want them. Nothing about this journey has been easy or quick. I’ve learned how to follow through on the commitments I’ve made to myself. I understand the value now in honoring those commitments. 

What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight? Find people that you can be in community with, online or in person. Make your goals small. It’s softer on your mind to set a goal of 1lb/week rather than to try and tackle 100 lbs at once. Don’t compare your journey to anyone else’s. Learn to fall in love with the process. Take pictures. Celebrate every milestone.

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[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

Aspiring to be Broken Better

I don’t know if this was more common for me, but I was often given advice around having “friends that are very motivated, with goals and plans, who inspire you to be passionate and productive”. I don’t really have a problem with that advice, to an extent. I think it works well for people with functional brains and bodies. I don’t think it works as well for people like me. 

It’s not nearly as possible for me to be “lifted up by motivational people” because I don’t just lack motivation. That’s why I like being around others in similar conditions to me. I don’t want to be around those who I should aspire to be like, I want to be around those who understand me as me. With all my flaws and faults and fights, I want my friends to see that little of those is by choice. I don’t want to be pushed to do something when I’m “not feeling it” because it’s not that simple. 

I’ve conversed a lot with my friends about how our futures look, from relationships to jobs. There’s a shared fear amongst us that whomever we end up with won’t fully comprehend why we exist the way we do. Why can we only do two chores in a day? Why can we only work thrice a week? Why is making dinner or showering or getting out of bed after fourteen hours such a difficult thing? People like us know the answers, but those outside likely cannot even fathom them. We can see a person's character beyond the weird requirements of disability. It would be nice if everyone could do that, but we don’t live in that kind of world. 

Obviously, being dragged down by those close to you is no good, regardless of how able you are. I still seek friends that keep me afloat and I try to return the favor. It’s still important to be supported and pushed and guided. What is really needed on top of that though, is the relatability. My friend group may look silly and lazy and somewhat useless on the outside. It may be looked down upon that most of us live with our parents as adults or that only a few can work a full time job or that some can’t even take on university. But inside that group, we are warriors on an outnumbered and outmatched side constantly fighting a losing war that we were drafted into. We are absolute champions for just being alive each day because even that often seems to be asking too much. Against all odds, we all graduated high school, some have moved onto post secondary, some work normal people jobs, some know how to drive, some have lived on their own. And we all know how impressive every one of those accomplishments are because we know the struggles we each battle. That’s what’s so important about having friends that embrace you first and lift you up second. 

If I was constantly around successful people, I would not feel inspired, I would feel like a failure. Hell, I already felt that at my grandfather’s funeral when I turned out to be the most unaccomplished cousin. And no, I didn’t go back home to try and become a more impressive person. I’m still the same, because that’s all I’m capable of. It’s just depressing to see how well everyone around you is doing and knowing you can’t follow in their footsteps for a thousand reasons no one will really validate. Motivation and inspiration and passion are good when tailored to the one they are targeting. The thing is, I just don’t see a lot of diverse tailoring. I’ve written a few logs focused on appreciating the small victories since I’ve noticed an absence around that mindset, especially when it comes to disabled folks, and even more so for folks with invisible disabilities. We need less grand ventures to strive for and more tame journeys. 

I cannot stress this enough, we should not strive to be great, but to be good. That is basically the most people like me are capable of. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be good. Good, in a way for us broken individuals, is great. It’s such a fantasy for most of us to feel “good”, not “bad” or “okay” or “meh”. Good. it’s a state slightly above neutral and a wee bit into the positive category. It’s where we can hoist each other up to and where we don’t feel shame if we aren’t there yet but others are. It’s attainable for everyone and that is a special and beautiful thing.

[russellsppttemplates]

Where there is no rush (Charles Leclerc)

Note: english is not my first language

This is inspired by what I've seen from the break and one of the last reblogs of Charles content (I'm a sucker for his guys' tummies (is that even the plural of tummy?))

Feedback is appreciated 🤍 and although I'm not taking requests per se, if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to so so!

"Charles! I got the HR reply about my holidays", you yelled from your home office, hearing foot thumps going down the stairs and crossing the corner into the space you found yourself in, "and?", Charles asked antsy. Smiling, "Apparently all of the extra hours I logged in have paid off because I have extra holidays", you said as he lapped to grab you by your waist, lifting you from the spinning chair, "does that mean I get you all to myself from a month?", he beamed, already thinking of all the things he wanted to do with you, "they said that they may need some papers due later this month but I can do that remotely, so no need to leave your side", you pressed your lips to his forehead, "and so I'm free for three weeks, starting friday". Charles carried you to the sofa on the living room, plopping you down as he kissed everywhere on your face, "I'm so happy you get to join me, mon coeur", he expressed, "yeah, but for that to still be the case I need to go and work now Mr Leclerc", you said pressing one last kiss to his lips before heading back to your desk.

That's how you ended up with a neat pile of clothes on your side of the bed on a Monday afternoon, the dirty clothes from the race weekend already washed and drying outside so you could bring a few pieces with you for your holiday with Charles. When Charles suggested that you'd spend some of the summer break on his boat there was no way you could say no, just wanting to be close to him and spend some time in a bubble of just you and him.

Somewhere in the sea, sun shinning on your skin, you looked at your boyfriend who checked something on the boat control panel before making his way to you. After lathering yourself in sunblock lotion, "Your sunburn from yesterday is not to be repeated, Charles! Come here so I can put the rest of sunblock on you, please! I only saw you put in on your legs", you called, the spray bottle already in your hand, "your back to me, please". You started applying the product to his arms and shoulders, massaging it all along his back ensuring every bit of skin was covered while still being gentle given the slightly red skin from yesterday's burn, "turn for me", you whispered on his ear as you noticed his spine shiver despite the warm air around you. Slowly, your boyfriend complied and you sprayed the product on his chest, circling his nipples and then moving to his tummy before heading back up to his neck and then his face, taking the opportunity to appreciate his handsome facial features. Your thumbs travelled from his forehead to his cheeks and then his lips, memorising every dimple and mole, imperfections to some people but to you they were one of the things that made him even more endearing to you. Handing him the bottle so he could do your back, the only place you hadn't been able to reach, you enjoyed how his hands felt on your skin before he placed the cap on the bottle and layed down on the sofa are, grabbing you with him to lay on his chest.

"Knew you only wanted me for my body", he chuckled after you started drawing random shapes on his tummy and chest, occasionally placing your lips on his skin, "Bold of you to assume that I want you for your body when we are in your boat", you teased him back. Your relationship had always been like this once you both felt like you could trust eachother, Charles knowing it was never about his money or fame that you loved him, believing every single word when you would say that you'd love him if the only boat he had was the one kids have in their baths. Sure, you loved being in there, but you would also love to be spending this time with him at home, all that mattered to you was to be where he was. "I love your tummy though", you said, kissing the area, "you wouldn't prefer a six-pack? All muscle", he retorted, looking at your endearment regarding his midsection. Charles felt good about his body, he ate well and exercised daily and he knew you would never ask him to change anything about his body, just as you also know he would never do that to you, practically worshiping your body any moment he could. "No, I like it this way. If you want to change it, that's fine, I'll love it too because it's you, but I love your tummy, it's really cute and comfy when I lay my head there", you blushed, caught in a ramble about your boyfriend's tummy, coming back up and kissing his lips. "You know", Charles started, "this is what I miss the most, being here, having silly conversations and appreciating things like this, where there is no rush. I love what I do, and I'm so lucky to be able to do it, and it's exhausting at times, frustrating too", he referred to the last few weeks, "but having my family, my mum, my brothers, my friends, and having you here, with me, in my arms, happy and content to just be here is wonderful. It doesn't get better than that", he sighed before grabbing your chin softly and looking at you, "I love you so so so much, mon coeur" before initiating a kiss where both your actions spoke louder than words.

[prof-peach]

(In or out of character) Does Peach have any role models outside of other professors? Maybe someone from her ranger training that helped inspire her change of heart?

Ranger days the teachers berated her for reckless actions and rash judgement. Her family as we now know was full of people who pushed too hard, more stick than carrot, which left peach kind of on her own for a long time. Her experience with adults or people in positions of authority was tainted, so she tended to avoid building relations with them, which grew into avoiding relations with most other people too. However, she did have one old man and his Graveller, who use to treat her kindly called Frank, easily a dude in his 50's when they first met, he was just some dude on an allotment near where peach stayed during her studying to be a professor, but he allowed her to work the plot with him, and study his plants and the pokemon that frequented the space. Often he suggested she started some kind of boxing or fighting club, more for fun, later suggesting it'd be good stress relief for her once they bonded a bit more, and he learnt she was less than ok. They shared lunches, worked the land, and had a laugh together, he had several daughters, all old enough and moved out, but he admitted he missed their company. Peach seemed to fill a gap in his life, and he was a kind guy who had a lot of patience and wisdom to impart on her.

She would turn up to his garden with scrapes and bruises, and those weedy little arms that'd picked a fight with someone bigger than her, and still manage to lug soil and bricks and logs around until nightfall, venting frustration. The man was impressed at her tenacity but worried, and kept pushing her to take up an actual sport or hobby to help level her out.

Then one day Frank said he needed a hand picking up a tonne of topsoil, so they all piled into his truck and bumbled off to town. When he pulled up at a back alley gym, peach was caught off guard, no sign of any yard with dirt to buy close enough, out the front a similarly aged man smoking, waving to Frank. He introduced the two, the dude out front being Marcus, the owner of the small gym space, Frank quickly noting that the girl with him was who he'd mentioned on the phone, he'd asked if Markus could run peach through some drills, see if she has the aptitude for fighting. Frank sat and read a paper, waiting for his friend to see what this girl had to offer. Others in the gym laughed at her under their breath, she was easily the smallest in there, felt out of place, but the pokemon? They liked her, including the gym owners Medicham, who even took a shine to Val! He put her through her paces, and finally the trial was over. Peach, utterly exhausted, stood beside the two old men, trying not to throw up from over exertion. Markus was brutal, 'she's puny, totally cant put any weight into her hits, theres nothing to her.' harsh to hear after doing your best, but he turned it around, expressing that despite her size, she had instincts, dodging and footwork was something she had a knack for, thanks to her family's push to train. the only good thing they gave her no doubt. He took her on as a student on the spot, a favour to Frank no doubt.

Markus and Frank agreed without really asking Peach, and she gained a teacher, someone to channel all her anger into something. Four days a week minimum she was in the gym, endless hours, being barked at to do better, push harder, be smarter. The two old men helped put her on track to the woman she is now.

Frank passed several years after Peach graduated which hurt her heart, but he left his Graveller to the island, knowing that she'd be able to live a peaceful life there.

Markus is still out there, throwing hands no doubt. Peach goes to visit him sometimes, when she's in his neck of the woods. The gym still stands open, taken over by his son now, a reasonable kid who enjoys hearing about Peach's antics when she stops by, she likes to challenge whoever's in there at the time to a friendly match. They probably behave more like family to her than her actual blood relatives. Grey's even met them, they both used the gym as youngsters.

[sailxrmxrs]

last week i posted this onionthief angst where there was a love triangle between him, mc, and nightowl. i ended up really liking it and learnt that i may or may not thrive in the angst. so, as a result, i thought why not spin it round so that instead of falling for nightowl, mc falls for onion. expect some real sad boy nightowl hours. also partially inspired by this interaction on robo's tumblr that had me feeling the sads. anyway, here's sad boy nightowl bc his crush doesn't like him back.

Shared laughs erupted from both your's and Nightowl's computer speakers. Once you'd logged on to the server, Nightowl had eagerly greeted you, making conversation until he invited you in to a video call. He'd been his energetic self as per usual, flirty comments and all. Not that you minded, really. After all, it was only a little harmless fun. Somehow he'd managed to rope you into playing a game of never have I ever, sharing innocuous questions and taking sips for your answers. It was fun. This was fun. Talking with Nightowl felt like reliving the more fun parts of college, playing random drinking games that always ended up in fits of giggles and spilled secrets. They were lethal in all the best ways. And, in all honesty, getting to know Nightowl like this was nice. It hadn't been that long since you'd joined the server and he'd made you feel so welcome. Of course he wasn't the only one to do so, but his eagerness to call and talk as though you'd known each other for years was sweet.

"Okay, next one!" Nightowl exclaimed, his cheeks tinted pink and his hands clapping together for emphasis. "Never have I ever liked someone in the Blooming Panic server." He looked particularly pleased with himself for that one, leaning back on his hands in delighted glee as he awaited an answer. "Come on, it's an easy one."

"Fine," you huffed, feeling your cheeks warm as you avoided looking at the screen and instead focused on a particularly interesting loose thread at the hem of your shirt. "Maybe I do."

"Oh yeah? I had a feeling you might. Who is it?"

"I am not telling you. That's not part of the game!" You replied, the thought of drinking long gone as you tried to divert the topic away from your romantic interests.

"So boring! Promise I won't tell anyone!" Nightowl held out his pinky finger to the camera, the closest to the real thing as the pair of you could get through the screen.

You sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this without answering. Might as well give Nightowl what he was looking for. "You promise you won't say anything? To anyone?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. So?" He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, a devilish grin playing upon his lips.

"It's Onionthief."

"Onion?" Nightowl recoiled back from the screen, surprise marring his once ecstatic expression. "Really?"

"Um, yeah. He's just been so nice and welcoming. I mean, everyone has, but—I don't know something just feels...different with him I guess." There was a beat of silence. Something in the air shifted, turned painfully sour as you watched and waited for Nightowl to speak. When it became apparent he was far too wrapped up in his thoughts, you called out his name.

He cursed quietly under his breath, a hand moving to thread through his hair in exasperation or disbelief, you weren't quite sure. "I thought you—shit."

"Nightowl? What's wrong?" You asked, hoping he wasn't about to close himself off to you. Even if you didn't understand what had caused such a response, you wanted to be there for him. "Please, talk to me? Maybe I can help."

"No, you can't. I think I need to go."

"What? Nightowl, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing. It's fine." His expression hardened into something you'd never seen before. It was entirely unreadable and nothing like the Nightowl you'd come to know and love as a dear friend.

"It doesn't look fine to me," you responded, feeling antsy as you waited on some kind of admission.

Nightowl finally looked up to make eye contact through the screen. He looked pained, as though something deep inside him was hurting beyond belief. "I have to go. See you."

"Hey, wait! Nighto—" Your words were cut off by the sound of Nightowl leaving the call and your discord profile picture filling the screen in his absence. Worry and guilt swirled in the pit of your stomach, churning and stewing like something rotten. What had made Nightowl's mood turn so quickly? He'd seemed so excited while talking earlier. Something about the game of never have I ever must have messed with him. Wait, was it because you admitted to liking Onionthief? Did Nightowl really dislike Onionthief that much that he could barely stand the thought of you liking him? There was nothing you wanted more than to talk to him again, make sure he was okay. The next best thing, however, was to send a message to the study-hall channel, now devoid of all its members besides the two of you.

As you were able to exit the voice channel and sign off for the night, the sound of a new arrival rang in your eyes. A wave of relief crashed into you at the thought of Nightowl coming back. However, it wasn't his face you were greeted with.

"Uh, hey. Sorry if I'm bothering you. I saw you were on with Nightowl then he just disappeared. Everything good with you two?" Onionthief had been online as well, coming to check on you when he noticed something was awry.

"Well..."

"That bad? What did Nightowl do?" He sounded agitated, glasses shifting on his nose as he worked himself up. "If he said something to hurt you I swear I'll—"

"Onion! Hey, calm down. Nightowl didn't do anything. I think it was my fault," you admitted, feeling even more guilty the more you dwelled on Nightowl's sudden change in demeanour.

"Whatever happened it wasn't your fault," Onionthief said. His voice was softer than normal, lacking its usual sarcastic tone. As it turned out, you were getting to see a different side of a lot of the server members today. "Hey, don't cry. Tell me everything. I'm right here."

You hadn't even noticed the tears that now stained your cheeks. Wiping a hand across your face, you tried to smile. Onionthief didn't try to rush you. He just sat there, ready and waiting to listen. This version of him was a far-cry from the one you'd seen in the discord, full of dry statements and a perchance for the serious. It was nice. And it certainly didn't do anything to diminish the growing feelings of your heart. Naturally, once you'd recounted the events of the evening, strategically leaving out the admittance of your feelings, Onionthief's usual persona shone through again. He loved to initiate some back-and-forth, poking fun at quirky mannerisms or accidental typos and mispronunciations. But you didn't mind it, rather liked it, in fact. Plus it was fun to watch him fluster whenever you gave him the same energy back. You weren't sure if this little crush was going to go anywhere but, as you smiled at the boy in the screen, you just hoped it might.

But, as you were busy falling for another, Nightowl was curled up in his bed. The fairy lights he usually kept on for their glowing ambience were turned off and his curtains were closed. The room was bathed in an oblivion-like darkness. Fitting, considering the abyssal force that was devouring him from the inside out. God, how could he ever think you'd like him back? And for it to be Onionthief that had captured your attention? That stung. Deep. Nightowl wanted to leave the server then and there, so close to hitting that button. He'd convinced himself not to do it once he saw you message in study-hall but it didn't do anything to erase the sheer pain and emptiness that echoed throughout his entire being.

The self destructive side to Nightowl whispered in his ear, a thousand tiny devils on his shoulder, telling him to go back on discord and see if you were still online. He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to see your name offline, hoping that maybe you were hurting in a similar way. But there was the far likelier outcome you were still online. Onionthief had still been online too and what if... Shit, what if Onion had joined your vc? Part of Nightowl wanted to look. Torment himself with the knowledge that he simply wasn't good enough, wasn't dedicated enough, wasn't worthy of your affection. But he wasn't sure just how much more of this he could take. Maybe he should just go to sleep for now. Maybe in the morning it wouldn't hurt so much. Or maybe it would, not like he didn't deserve it for letting himself hope that he might have finally found someone he could actually be with. Love was a dangerous thing, and Nightowl had thrown himself to the wolves, his body and soul now being torn to shreds as payment.

[inastateofmind]

one day / rafe cameron

a.n. YAY for my first fic!!! please be nice because i really do not know what i’m doing. hopefully it’s okay though. feedback is greatly appreciated. let me know what yall want to see next or if i’ve left out any warnings or anything like that!

pairing: non canon rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n tutors sarah and is pining after rafe, little does she know, rafe is pining after her too. song fic inspired by one day by tate mcrae! i do not own any lyrics used. lyrics are italicized.

word count: 2440

warnings: unrequited love induced angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex if you squint, jealousy, kelce being kelce

“She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts,

‘Maybe he knows who I am, probably not.’”

Y/N laid in her room quietly, Olivia Rodrigo’s “enough for you” playing faintly in the background while she stared at the ceiling above her. School had just started two weeks ago and her feelings for Kook King Rafe Cameron had only intensified since then. Working for the school’s student services, she had been assigned to tutor Sarah, which left Y/N seeing Rafe more often than her heart could physically handle. The two of them hadn’t talked much, only sharing a few passing comments to each other while she confided in his home with Sarah. The reality of their relationship was that the older Cameron sibling probably hardly knew her name, however that did not stop her from harboring feelings for him from afar for almost two years.

“She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes

Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies”

The halls of the Kook Academy were crowded with girls in short skirts and crop tops and boys in polos and khakis when the bell rang for lunch. Y/N stopped by her locker to switch out her textbooks for the second half of her day, keeping her head low as she weaved in between the crowd. “Dude, I just don’t get it. I basically used Grammarly for the whole thing and I still got a C?” She could make out Kelce’s voice in all the commotion due to the volume of his outburst. A giggle slipped out of her lips as she slipped past him, knowing the teachers in this school know when the students use programs like Kelce’s to write their papers. “Sorry, Y/L/N, is something funny?” The boy stepped towards her, causing her to finally lift her head and meet the eyes of everyone who was around. Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to Rafe’s, and then fallen to the hand that gripped around Kelce’s arm, making him step back from the shy girl in front of him, “Man, leave her alone.” Her eyes met Rafe’s again as he smiled at her, causing butterflies to swarm her insides as she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe victim to Kelce’s teasing of his “crush.”

“It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine

I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine — I’m just breaking inside”

“You look so hot, Y/N,” Sarah complimented, curling the last piece of her own hair while Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. Sarah had insisted she come to the annual bonfire, and in return had offered to help her get ready. “Rafe is going to die when he sees you tonight.” Y/N thought her heart stopped right then and there. She spun around quickly, staring at Sarah. “What?” Sarah laughed, fluffing her hair as she stood up. “Y/N/N, you can’t hide that from me. I figure out everything.” Y/N sighed and made her way towards the door, opening it for Sarah to lead the way. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s got a thing for you too.”

—

The bonfire was not Y/N’s scene, to say the least. By the time her and Sarah arrived, many people were already wasted. The number of people in the small space was enough to send Y/N into fight or flight mode, but Sarah was quick to pull her into the crowd with a drink and start dancing. Several songs passed before Y/N found Rafe, who already had his eyes on her. She blushed, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Was this crop top too cropped? Has she danced too bad it’s been embarrassing? Is it obvious she doesn’t belong here? She must’ve been lost in her thoughts for some time, because next thing she knew, Rafe’s hands were resting on her hips, bringing her back to earth. “Anyone home?” He joked, tapping her hips with his fingers. She laughed lightly, her nerves flowing through her body. Rafe leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her cold skin, “You look really good.” This small compliment mixed with the alcohol coursing through her veins gave her a new found confidence. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Y/N swore she saw a faint blush on the notorious bad boy’s cheeks, but she would never be too sure, because as quick as their moment started, it ended. “Rafe! Beer pong let’s go!” Topper yelled from behind Rafe, a crowd cheering at the mention of Rafe’s name. The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, “Go,” she smiled, “You can find me later.” Rafe smiled at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back.” Y/N watched as Rafe ran into the crowd chanting his name, laughing as he turned around and pretended to have Topper “crown” him as the beer pong king before beginning their game.

—

An hour had passed when Y/N had begin to feel tired of chatting up random people from school. She had consumed a few more drinks while waiting for Rafe to come find her, however he never came. She decided to take things into her own hands and find Rafe herself. Standing from the log surrounding the bonfire, she swayed slightly as she walked around the small space searching for Rafe. She didn’t see him anywhere, so she had assumed he had left on his own accord. That is, until she heard whistling from Topper and Kelce. “Okay Rafey boy!” She turned quickly to see Rafe helping a skinny blonde from their calculus class into his car. Suddenly, her shoes were the most interesting thing at the bonfire. Y/N felt stupid for ever thinking Rafe cared or was attracted to her, and she felt even more stupid for thinking he was really going to come find her. “Hey,” she turned to see Sarah smiling at her sadly. “John B’s here to take us home,” Y/N cut her off, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to go back to mine actually.”

“He always walks the crowded halls and is blinded by this light

A girl who keeps her head down low and never shows her eyes”

Rafe spent most of his time at school surrounded by an entourage. However, as of recently, his main focus hasn’t been the popularity or the girls flocking his way, but more so a specific girl: Y/N. He watched her in class while she worked ahead of the teacher, he noticed how she got anxious in the crowded hallways, he loved how she opened up while she hung out with Sarah after school. He had never felt so attached to a girl before, especially one he had hardly talked to. Something about Y/N just kept drawing Rafe in, making him want to be a proper gentleman and get to know her— all the weird little things and the seemingly unimportant things too. 

“He tried to talk to her but there’s no easy way

‘Cause every time he raises his voice, she runs away”

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Rafe yelled down the hallway, running after the girl as she beelined it to her locker. “Y/N,” She opened her locker, shoving her books into it with a sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?” His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. He didn’t understand. At the bonfire, things had been going so good. Now, he could barely get the girl to glance in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought at the bonfire…” She cut him off, slamming her locker shut. “Yeah, I thought things at the bonfire were going good too, until you left me there to go off with some girl,” She shrugged, turning and walking away before Rafe could even respond. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. The reality of the situation: the girl from the bonfire was truly just a friend who was far too wasted and vulnerable to get home on her own, and Rafe recognized that and offered to take her home. He couldn’t blame Y/N for thinking otherwise though, seeing as he did have quite the reputation. He glanced once more in the direction she walked off into before going to meet the younger Cameron sibling for advice.

“Oh, it’s impossible to get you off my mind

I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine.

I’ve understood that you will never be mine and that’s fine,

I’m just breaking inside”

Rafe spent the next few afternoons in the comfort of the country club with Kelce and Topper, avoiding his home at all costs until he was sure Y/N was done tutoring Sarah. He wanted nothing more than to go home and steal the girl from his sister so they could talk things out, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse, so he kept his distance. However, the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” rang true, because Y/N was the only thing on his mind. By Wednesday afternoon, he finally gave in, going straight home from school. Wednesdays for Y/N and Sarah were typically their “relaxation” day before cramming for tests on Thursday, so Rafe expected to walk into the living room to find the two of you curled up on the couch. However, the house was oddly quiet and the driveway empty. He texted Sarah, asking where they were.

“John B’s. Be back by dinner.”

John B’s?

Y/N was at John B’s?

Rafe shook his head, opening Snapchat. He looked at Sarah’s story, a picture of her, Kiara and Y/N on the HMS Pogue. He smiled at how happy she looked. The next picture was one of Sarah in John B’s lap, with Y/N in the background sporting JJ’s hat and seemingly swatting at him while he reached to take it back. Rafe’s heart dropped slightly, staring at this picture a little longer than necessary. Maybe if he would’ve stayed with her at the bonfire, that could’ve been them. Now he had basically walked the girl of his dreams into the arms of JJ Maybank. 

‘Maybe it’s better this way,’ He thought. 

But maybe he didn’t want better.

“One day, maybe she’ll stay and start to head over his way

And one day, she’ll look into his eyes and instead of breaking, she’ll call him ‘Mine’

One day, he’ll grab her by the waist and force them to meet face to face

One day he’ll look into her eyes and say that ‘You’re my only light’”

His phone ringing at 1 in the morning woke Rafe from his sleep, not even bothering to see who was calling before answering. “It better be important if you’re waking me up,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Rafe, you’re too sweet sometimes, you know?” Rafe rolled his eyes, staring at the clock. “Topper, why did you call me?” His patience was wearing thin, but he knew Topper wouldn’t have called him without reason at this time of night. “I just wanted to tell you I just passed Y/N walking home by herself, I asked if she wanted me to give her a ride and she said no, but she looked pretty shaken up. I’ve still got an eye on her but I thought you might want to come,” Topper didn’t have to finish, the minute the girl’s name had fallen out of his mouth Rafe was throwing on a sweatshirt and slipping into shoes faster than he ever has before. His mind was running a million miles a minute. 

Why was she out this late by herself?

Why didn’t she call someone?

Did something already happen?

Rafe grabbed his keys and sped to Topper’s shared location, slowing down once he saw his jeep ahead of him. “I’ve got her, man. Thanks.” He hung up before pulling his car off onto the side of the road. “Y/N,” Rafe spoke as he got out, loud enough that she could hear it was him and not startle her. She turned quickly, staring at him as he approached her slowly. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” she mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Rafe nodded. “I’m not mad at you, but it’s late,” he spoke gently. He could see on her face she was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse. Y/N was looking everywhere but at him. She was nervous, embarrassed, everything in between. “Hey,” Rafe whispered, placing his hands on her waist like he did at the bonfire. Her eyes met his and he could read her like an open book. He saw the nerves. He saw the sadness. “Let’s get you home.”

-

The car ride back to the Cameron household was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel and one locked in Y/N’s, glancing over at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing okay. Back at the house, he provided her clothes to change into while he grabbed some drinks for them. Y/N sat on his bed, preparing herself for what she was about to do. It was the reason for the walk, the reason for the silence in the car. Honestly, this could be an awful time to do it, but there was no turning back now. “Okay, so I’ve got chips, cookies, water, Pepsi, mountain dew,” “Rafe.” Y/N cut him off, staring at him as she sat criss crossed on his bed. He sat everything down and stared at her, encouraging her to continue. “This could be a bad time to tell you, but I like you. I went on that walk because I needed to get you out of my head but then you showed up so clearly it didn’t work and honestly I’ve liked you for a while, and you don’t have to like me back, oh no you’re laughing,” She cut herself off at the sight of Rafe chuckling and moving towards her. “Why are you laughing?” Y/N whispered as he got close enough that he could feel his breath on her skin. “Because,” Rafe smiled, “I like you too.”

[pretchatta]

a little bit more of the university au I started here, inspired by @bythevay‘s amazing sweater vest kanan and date night hera. I still haven’t made it to the actual date yet... but it does exist in draft form! I’ll be putting the whole lot on AO3 as soon as I have a title (suggestions are welcome!) but until then it’ll be small sections on tumblr as and when I feel they’re finished.

edit: it’s on AO3!

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 1.3k words

---

The soft, burbling sounds of the café reached his ears as Kanan pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the library. The foyer was grand, if a little tired, with wood-panelled walls and a polished marble floor that contrasted sharply with the modern security barriers cutting through the middle. Sweeping up one side was the long reception desk that served both sides, though only those with a university ID card could pass through the turnstiles to the café and, more importantly, the university’s precious trove of knowledge beyond. 

Kanan made his way to the desk, not needing to enter the library proper today, absently greeting the old librarian who sat on the other side.

“Morning, Okadiah.”

The human raised a white-haired eyebrow as Kanan reached over the desk to a currently unused library staff computer. “It’s past one.”

“Oh. Good afternoon, then.” He twisted the monitor around to face him and tapped a request on the keyboard in a practised way.

“Someone’s a little distracted,” Okadiah commented. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were thinking about a woman, but since you’re never off campus and the gender ratio of your department is abysmal, that’s about as likely as you reading my sign.”

The sign in question read ‘DO NOT LEAN ON THE DESK’, and Kanan had been ignoring it since graduation. That had been when he’d started working at the library to support himself through his PhD and learnt that Okadiah was far less formidable than he’d first appeared. Since accepting a permanent position in the School of Chemistry faculty he’d not stopped acting like a member of library staff, and he was pretty sure Okadiah only allowed it because Kanan was still one of the few people who could actually work the library’s archaic cataloguing software. 

“Well, maybe next time I’m here for a book I’ll ask you to call it for me, because this woman… I don’t even know how to describe her.”

“Oh boy.”

“She was incredible. She’d dropped a lab coat, and she had these eyes… I’m telling you, I’ve never seen eyes like hers before.”

"Eyes, huh -- is this her, coming in now? Lab coat, check. Eyes, check..."

Okadiah had no idea what Hera looked like, but Kanan's head whipped around to see if it was her nonetheless. He tried not to look too obviously disappointed at the diminutive sullustan woman in white who’d just come through the doors. Her huge eyes roamed around the room before landing on the desk, which she then made a beeline towards.

"Excuse me," she said, peering up at the librarian. The lanyard around her neck proclaimed her to be a guest speaker from one of the university’s affiliate companies by the name of Zaluna Myder. "I'm meeting someone inside, a member of university staff."

"You'll have to wait here until they arrive," Okadiah replied kindly. “When they do I can sign you in.”

The woman nodded. “Very well. I’ll just take a seat here then.” She slid down to sit on the floor at the base of the desk. 

Kanan frowned in confusion, but was distracted by a besalisk with an armful of books arriving at the other side of the desk. 

“You requested this one, Oke?” the woman grunted, passing the topmost one over to him.

“Thanks, Lal, it’s for Professor Jarrus here.” Okadiah took the slim textbook and the library assistant departed again. He glanced at the cover before sliding it over to Kanan. “Hey, this has got to be the fourth Physics book you’ve ordered this term. Is it for that kid again? I don’t know why you don’t just give him Young and Freedman and be done with it.”

Kanan rolled his eyes. “He’s fifteen. I’m trying to encourage his passion for the sciences, not break his spine.” 

“If you’re hoping he makes it to higher education,” came a new voice from behind, “a little strength training maybe wouldn’t go amiss.”

Kanan almost couldn't believe his ears, but there was no mistaking that voice. He turned, and sure enough, there she was. She was wearing different overalls today, but those eyes were the same as he remembered, if not even more beautiful.

Play it cool, Kanan. 

"Hey, Hera," he said casually.

“Kanan, right?” She was smiling at him again, and it made his heart flutter in his chest. “I thought you said you teach Chemistry? Do you often teach extra subjects?”

“Yes -- I mean, no --” He was flustered, and forced himself to start again. “I’m tutoring this kid, and sometimes he gets curious about non-Chemistry topics. Sometimes I worry I’m losing him to Physics, but then I give him a sheet of algebra and he’s back to asking about rates of reactions.”

He felt like he was rambling and stopped himself from saying anything further, but she was nodding.

“I’d be interested to hear more about your teaching.”

“I -- well, you’re always welcome to come by during my office hours.”

He heard what sounded like a disappointed sigh from Okadiah.

“Dr Syndulla?” came a voice from below; the sullustan woman had stood back up. 

“Zaluna!” Hera said brightly, apparently recognising her. “I’ve booked one of the private study rooms for our meeting - unfortunately we can’t use my office today, I share it and my colleague has a tutorial in there right now.”

“If you show me your staff ID, your guest can sign in here and I can grant a temporary day pass to the library,” Okadiah said, bringing out the visitor log book. Zaluna took the pen and started writing as Hera rummaged for her ID card.

Kanan started to feel a little awkward and wondered if he should leave - he had his book now, after all - but he didn’t want to. He wanted to talk to Hera some more, but he didn’t know how to start with Okadiah and Zaluna there.

“There’s a new restaurant that’s just opened up on Gorse Street, y’know,” Okadiah said, interrupting Kanan’s train of thought.

“Huh?” Kanan was momentarily confused, but caught the twinkle in the old librarian’s eyes.

“There,” Zaluna said, finishing signing her name.

“Great, let’s get going. It was nice to see you again, Kanan,” Hera directed the last part to him as she started walking towards the turnstiles with Zaluna.

“Wait!” he called, and she paused to look back. “Do -- would you like to get dinner? With me? There’s a new restaurant…” he finished lamely, gesturing at Okadiah, who covered his face with his hand.

But Hera didn’t seem put off. She smiled at him again, and he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that smile. “That sounds nice. I’m free tomorrow evening -- meet me under the Illum Bridge at seven?”

Kanan couldn’t help the smile that split his face. “See you tomorrow at seven!”

He watched her walk away, feeling like he was floating. He was taking Hera on a date! Him! And her! For a whole evening, at--

“Wait, what restaurant did I just invite her to?”

Okadiah’s eyes sparkled with mirth over the tops of his glasses. “Luna Cynda has received nothing but rave reviews since it first opened last week, and is fully booked for the next month.”

“What?” Kanan’s heart rate spiked with anxiety. “Fully booked? Where am I supposed to take Hera tomorrow?”

The old man merely smiled at him. “I’ve been meaning to give it a go myself, but since I can’t stand the thought of you taking such a lovely woman on what would otherwise undoubtedly be a terrible date, I suppose you can have my table reservation.”

“Really?”

“Tomorrow at seven-thirty. I’m living vicariously. Treat her well, please.”

---

Continue Reading

[luvcilfer]

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

 → 𝘵. 𝘰𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢

a/n: inspired by the song crybaby by the neighbourhood 

Oikawa Toru was never one to allow himself to get distracted, at least not for too long. He knew when he had time to spare, using it to entertain his fans or tease Iwaizumi, and when he had to get to business.

He couldn’t help himself when it came to you though. The way your hair glided through the air with its silkiness displaying the sun’s rays. He just wanted to reach out and touch you. Feel the blood rush to your cheeks under the calloused pads of his fingertips as he caressed your skin.

He knew he shouldn’t. Oikawa knew that he would only taint your aura that managed to so skillfully intoxicate him. And yet, he simply did not care. His selfishness dominating any and all concerns he felt towards your cute little self.

“Oh sorry,” you said with a lingering smile from your previous laugh you were just sharing with your friends until you suddenly felt your left side being pushed back. “No no, it is I who is sorry,” Oikawa said with a charming gaze and playful bow which just erupted a small giggle to escape from your lips.

You knew about Oikawa Toru, his reputation being shared throughout your university as a cunning heartbreaker. Always having girls surrounding him, but never having any exclusivities. No lovestruck gaze ever seen in his deep eyes. Just blank stares with warm smiles to accompany them.  

It was no surprise that he thought the same of your oblivious self. Always busying yourself with school or hobbies and never appreciating the true beauty everyone recognized you to be. After all, both of you were keen observers, always noticing the smallest details in those deemed interesting enough to notice.

What was a surprise, however, was running into him at the university’s library later that week while you were on the brink of tears and he was about to pass out after a long night of intense studying, his sunken eyes and darkened smooth under eyes to prove it.

“Woah, hey there. Y/n was it?” You suddenly felt two sturdy hands grab ahold of your arms while you blinked away the blobs of tears that were previously blurring your eyes. “Oikawa-san?” you mumbled while very obviously staring back and forth between his two hands balancing you. And the way his bent arms flexed his biceps, his ruffled sweater now fitting him thoroughly tighter than before.

It was then that the fatigued boy noticed the boundaries he had previously set for himself were so effortlessly broken without a single thought given. Your red eyes looked up at him while you sniffled your runny nose making his heart clench while all the same making it impossibly harder for him to not rub his hands up and down your arms in hopes to comfort you. You had to bring your hands up with your tissue to clean your nose resulting in him letting you go. But not making any effort in widening the proximity between you two, his warmth now faintly exuding him enough for you to sense.

“Oh, um sorry about that. I just saw that you looked distressed and wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help,” he chuckled while lazily scratching the back of his head, a yawn closely following.

You sighed. You were friendly most of the time but still found yourself being hesitant towards those you weren’t that involved with. Even the extremely attractive ones with messy fluffy hair and cute droopy eyes.

“Well I actually have to turn in this paper for my afternoon class but my printer ran out of ink and the library is out of paper and the only paper they have is colorful and my teacher is always super grumpy and will probably not accept it even though I stayed up all-”

You didn’t realize your eyes had once again started to tear up until you felt a warm hand wipe away a stray tear. “Why don’t you come over to my place and let me help you out, yeah?”

And that is when you took your step back, disconnecting his warm hand from your cheek, a tinge of sadness resulted from missing it.

“Oh my God I’m an idiot,” you heard him mumble. “I meant because I have a printer at my apartment nice and stocked with ink and paper,” he sheepishly smiled.

Your drowsiness and desperateness getting to you, you reluctantly agreed. “Lead the way then, pervy boy. But you’re going to have to let me buy you coffee or something as a token of my appreciation,” you smiled.

“Normally the date happens before you get invited to the apartment y/n-chan, but looks like you’ll be an exception,” a cheeky smile erupts from Oikawa. “Oh shut up, perv,” you smile and roll your eyes.

A short and peaceful walk later, you find yourself in a mostly neat apartment with just a few dishes laying around and maybe one or two sweaters thrown around. “Oh shit,” you face palmed your now scrunched up face. “I planned to use one of the computers at the library to log into my account and I didn’t bring my laptop,” you pouted.

How cute. Oikawa thought. Your tear stained cheeks and slightly stained mascara making a flurry of emotions burn inside him. “Here just use mine,” he smiled. “The password is milkbread610 with the M being capitalized.” You could’ve sworn you saw a pink tint adorn his cheeks but decided not to mention it.

He truly never expected his small crush to develop into anything more than that. After all, you were just a pretty girl he occasionally saw around campus or at a bar. But you were a challenge, and that ignited the deepest and darkest desires to swirl around his mind.

He showed you where the printer was and proceeded to sprawl on his couch while you sat on the opposite end, his eyelids becoming unbearably heavy now. You opened his computer to find a selfie of him and what you assumed to be a younger brother or nephew making playful faces at the camera. A small grin made its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you.

You finished printing your paper and were about to thank him when you realized that there were soft snores filling the room. You saw a soft folded blanket laying nearby and placed it atop his resting body while adjusting his neck so he won’t wake up with pain.

Your actions surprised you, and you suddenly felt your heart flutter as you stared at his peaceful expression. His soft features engraving a euphoric image into your mind where the sunlight is shyly illuminating his rosy cheeks and plump parted lips releasing delicate breaths of air.

You carefully removed your hand from his head and brushed aside a stray piece of hair laying atop his eyes, letting your fingers linger longer than you cared to admit. After finding a random marker in his apartment, you grabbed his hands and wrote your number along with your name and smiley face with a small note saying “thanks for the help perv. Still up for coffee?”

And as you walked back to campus with your papers in hand you couldn’t help but think what a nice guy Oikawa actually is.

But Oikawa Toru is not a nice guy.