#Devous Mind

[kniteracy]

Mer Moon

Short Stories I have seen them riding seaward on the wavesCombing the white hair of the waves blown backWhen the wind blows the water white and black. —TS Eliot, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock Her voice is like a soothing wave:She calls to every doomed desire.And such a sweet and tempting graveAwaits past passion: lethe, retire. This is her song. Read me aloud. Read me aloud and hear in…

[ardent-reflections]

I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply can't do small talk.

Bridgett Devoue

[k-dokja]

SOFT THORNS — “hell is watching something that was your everything, slip away” | following the four pieces of "i don't want you to fall in love with someone else"

Summary: Collection of writing based on lines taken from Bridgett Devoue’s Soft Thorns.

It's not easy in the aftermath.

He likes to pretend it's fine because nothing else is there for him to clutch on. Yet, he sees it in your eyes when he walks up to you in the morning. You acknowledge him with a quiet nod and match his pace during your walk to school. There is a wall there built by his own hands. Each brick is a fragment of his lies and the cement is his admittance of the truth.

The wall stays for your comfort because he knows love is a troubling thing and when you need time, he will provide it. All Daniel can hope is for it to one day to fall down, even if it's only one brick at a time. It's a strange thing, for his love to lie bare in front of your eyes and all he gets in return is silence.

But he smiles for you anyway, and hopes one day, you will smile back at him in return.

For a few days afterwards, you continue to put on a feign of normalcy in front of others, but when the two of you are alone, it is naked to his eyes — you're trying to think but it's not easy to keep your thoughts coherent with your close proximity. He stays patient because he promised he would and puts on a mask with you.

"Something wrong between you two?"

Zack, strangely, is the one to notice it. He pulls Daniel aside on the fourth day when you're distracted by the cafeteria selection. Your friends keep you occupied enough when he glances back to check, but he wears on an awkward smile for Zack anyway. It's only prudent. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting weird," Zack frowns, "like," he gestures in your general direction, "the two of you, there's this vibe, it's weird."

"It's nothing," Daniel says, "we had some differences, that's all, we talked it out and she needs time to process it."

The frown on Zack's face says he's unconvinced, but if Danie's unwillingness to speak says anything, it manages to make Zack drop the topic. "Fine," he says, "just... forget about it."

Zack leaves as abruptly as he arrived. Yet, that conversation alone has given him more insight than anything else. He's probably worried about the truth you revealed to the original Daniel. The crush you omitted from this version of him when you agreed to go out. It is something which has given him as much joy as heartache.

He puts on a smile anyway when you meet his eyes upon Zack's return to the group. It confuses you, but you do not press when he comes back either. He knows not whether it's a blessing or a curse, but he finds that his mind scrambles, too.

There's wrong on both sides, he can see that. His wrong is bigger than yours, but it stings to think that he has meant to be a rebound, even if it was him you like anyway. In the end, the magnitude can't be compared when he looks at the two sides of the story.

He wishes for there to be a time machine to go back in time and do everything correctly, but staying stuck in the past does him no good. What he can do is make do with his lot in life, now.

At least, he can try.

"Do you..." He asks, after school, the day before the weekend, when everyone's packing up, "do you want to go somewhere on the way home?"

You look at him with mild apathy. He's overthinking it. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"

Daniel shrugs, "Anywhere, really, I just want to be with you," belatedly, he adds, "if that's okay with you?"

"Well, there's a new tea place my friends have been recommending to me," you say while strapping on your backpack, "might be worth checking out."

"Okay, let's head there then," he feels a little relief to see your reception, almost enough for him to reach out for your hand. Yet, he manages to stop his own action once more. He'd not do anything foolish now, treading on thin ice and fearing the plunge into cold water.

But the fear is unfounded. It is you who reach out for his hand on your own, your fingers thread easily. "What are you standing around for? Let's go." You pull him alone with you, ignorant to the envious eyes of other girls in class. And in facing his fear of winter, he finds warmth in your hands.

This time, his smile is genuine.

In the beginning, his hold on your hand remains loose, giving you a way out should you wish to have it. However, after he sees that you're not letting go, he squeezes your hand in his own. He would cherish this feeling forever if he can. There are few greater goods in life that can be comparable to holding you.

Eventually, the two of you set into a rhythm, the held hands swinging back and forth between you both. It's a little habit that you've grown to develop since the two of you begin to date. He finds it endearing, never an occasion to tell you that, however.

"I thought about it," it is you who break the comfortable silence between the two of you, "it makes sense the more I thought about it."

"Hm?"

"The two of you never appear together even if you have mutual friends, you even have the same name and the same mannerism while living in the same place," you say, "although, no one would have made the connection that you have two bodies... it makes sense in hindsight, once I thought about it."

It flusters him a bit to hear you bringing this up after a week of silence. All of the preparation he has made for this conversation suddenly vanishes, he's once again left fumbling. "Y-Yeah? I mean... I'm still me, it's just the way people treat me that's different, I guess."

You nod, once. "Yeah, I get it. You're still you, that's why it's the same yet it's different. I can't say I have wrapped my head around it entirely but... I think I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt, at least."

"Really?" He exclaims with a bit too much excitement, but he can't help it, not when he has spent the week living in suspense. "I... I can't thank you enough, truly. I know it's a lot to take in but, I don't mind no matter how long it takes, because..."

He was going to say something honest and stupid. But he has grown well at catching himself, but not well enough because if the warmth on his face says anything, then it's that the embarrassment is prominent. "Uh, because you're worth all the wait, evidently."

Desperately and perhaps futilely, he ignores the little smirk you make. He glances away and finds it a horrible idea when he realizes how it exposes his blushing cheek to you.

"Yeah, evidently," you mimic him with clear mockery at his feeble attempt at covering his track, "so... we're good, right?"

He lets out a relieved sigh, "Yeah, of course, we're good. There's no reason why we wouldn't be. I mean it does hurt to hear why you agreed to go out with me but... at the same time, it gave me the chance to be transparent with you. So I'd say we're even on that count."

"Huh, yeah," you say with a little bit of recognition, "guess we turned out well on that front, turned out my bad decision was convenient for us both after all."

"Agreeing to go out with me is a bad decision?" He gapes. While he tries to play it off with feigned humour, his heart squeezes.

You only shrug in return, "While I liked somebody else? Yeah, it was. It wasn't fair to you and I know that. So, I'm sorry for that, but I'm glad I decided to come clean."

"Yeah, well," he fumbles again, "I guess it all turns out well in the end, the person you like is still me, after all, and you like me for my personality even, so I'd call this a win-win."

"You're awfully optimistic about this," you drawl.

He huffs a little, "I have to be, this is hard on me, too."

"Oh, so now that you're out of hot water, you're cheeky all of a sudden," you laugh in exasperation and he finds it easy to smile, too, "c'mere, I'll stop your head from getting too big—seriously, where did you find all of this audacity?"

You use the hold you have on his hand to drag him down and pull on his cheek. He could've easily avoided you, but to him at that moment, any attention from you is good attention. Even if it ends with him having swollen cheek. "A-Ack, mercy!"

He's released after a pinch that barely stings. It might have been his thick skin that saves him or maybe you never pulled that strongly, to begin with. However, what matters, in the end, is that you pat on the area of attack and grin up at him. Whatever pain he suffered no longer matters. "There, know the next time you hide anything from me, there'll be hell to pay, so don't get cocky."

"There won't be the next time," he murmurs and finds the light in your eyes distractingly beautiful they are aimed at him, "I can promise you that."

"Hm, there better not be," you turn your nose up but all he notices is how that makes your cheek readily accessible, "now, let's—"

He leans down quickly. A peck on your cheek that he has been hoping to give this entire time. He might be playing with fire, kissing you this soon after a fight, but he has wanted to do that forever and now that the opportunity is here, he'd be a fool to miss it.

Immediately afterwards, he slips his hand away from you and breaks into a sprint. You take only a second to recover but it's enough for him to get a headstart. "Yah, Daniel Park! Come back here!"

If he wanted, he'd have easily managed to escape you, but he keeps his pace slow enough to give you the illusion of catching up. A grin breaks out on his lips, even if he should be fearing for his life.

Somehow, he has the feeling that it can only look up from here on.

[snflwrstudies]

09.13.22 || 🎵 - Serotonin by girl in red

don’t mind me, just posting on my studyblr at around 1:30 am. it’s been a very late night of studying but a very productive day! i’ve been focusing a lot on my religion and trauma class since we meet tomorrow. it’s been a very interesting class so far and i’ve really been enjoying it, even though the stuff we’ve been learning about is really heavy. i think it’s a really unique class, so i’m glad i get to take it! hope you’re all doing well and having a wonderful start to your week <3

“perfection is found in accepting your imperfections.” -bridgett devoue

[wolkenleere]

I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply can't do small talk.

Bridgett Devoue

[bluelilybird]

I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply can’t do small talk.

Bridgett Devoue

[hercleverboy]

whatever it takes

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ spencer and the team are working tirelessly to find a serial killer who surfaced recently in the local area. The unsub turns out to be someone a lot closer to home than spencer realises.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ graphic depictions of blood, murder and death.

word count ↠ 4.6k

“So much more was said in the unsaid.” — Bridgett Devoue

The sink stained with red as she scrubbed furiously at her hands.

“I’ve got to get it off, got to get it off-“ She mumbled continuously under her breath, her hands shaking as she watched the blood swirl with the water down the drain.

She didn’t remember where the blood was from, why it was all over her hands and caking her clothes. She’d blacked out, and when she came to she was stumbling into her and Spencer’s apartment. Her breath was hurried, her heart beating fast and she kept wracking her brain but couldn’t fucking remember where the blood was from, who’s blood was that-

Breathe, Y/N.

She took a moment, stepping back from the sink, staring at her now clean hands. She looked down again at her clothes, her shirt soaked with red liquid- who’s blood was it?- it wasn’t hers, she wasn’t hurt - oh god Y/N did you hurt someone?

No. No. She wasn’t capable of that, was she?

That was the second blackout she’d had in a week. Where she’d stumbled home in a daze and had to clean blood that wasn’t hers from her clothes.

Spencer was at work, a paperwork day he’d said. She flicked up her wrist to check her watch- he’d be home any minute now.

She dashed to the kitchen, preparing to put her clothes in the washing machine when she heard the familiar clicking of the front door opening.

“Y/N? I’m home.”

Shitshitshitshitshit-

She quickly ripped off her stained shirt, chucking it in the washing machine, just slamming it closed as Spencer rounded the corner into the kitchen, where she was stood in only her jeans and a bra.

He scrunched his eyebrows together but smirked nonetheless. “As much as I enjoy you half naked, may I ask why you don’t have a shirt on in the middle of our kitchen?”

Y/N have a nervous laugh. “Oh, um. I just had a snack and I managed to get it down my top, silly me. I just needed to get it in the wash before it stained.”

He seemed to buy it.

He smiled, coming towards her with open arms. “How was your day?” He asked sweetly as he enveloped her in a loving hug.

“My day? Oh, it was good.” She grinned, hugging him back. “And yours?”

As Spencer rambled on about his day, Y/N’s mind drifted elsewhere. Could he tell something was up? He was an expert profiler after all. She studied him as he spoke, and came to the conclusion that he didn’t suspect anything yet.

She wanted to tell him but he’d think she was crazy, him and his team- they’d lock her up, right? If she was hurting people, it’s where she deserved to be - behind bars.

You’re going insane, Y/N. There’s a perfect explanation for the blood that was all over you- you just can’t remember. Don’t panic. Don’t let Spencer see you panic. 

The following morning news was plastered with the story- they’d found a young woman’s body in the local park. She’d been stabbed multiple times in a frenzied attack. There were no witnesses, and no murder weapon. Y/N was sat on the couch watching the news reporter who listed all the details of the crime, biting her nails nervously. Spencer, who was getting ready to leave for work, frowned as he passed by the TV, reading the words on screen. 

“We haven’t been called in to investigate yet, as this is only the second murder. Since it’s local they’ll probably ask us to intervene if a third body turns up.” Spencer commented from behind her, the sudden voice making Y/N flinch. She chewed at her bottom lip as her head raced with thoughts, unintentionally ignoring her boyfriend’s presence. 

Why couldn’t she remember? 

She looked down at her hands that trembled under her own harsh glare. She could almost still see the red tint they were coated with- that poor young girls blood oh god you killed somebody. 

you don’t know that for sure, don’t jump to conclusions- 

come on, how else do you explain the fucking blood on your clothes? 

Her internal argument halted when Spencer cleared his throat, now stood in front of her with a look of concern on his face. “Y/N? You okay?”

She met his eyes, forcing the fakest smile she could onto her lips. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about that poor girl.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

Spencer left that morning with the promise he’d be home soon, leaving Y/N to spiral with her own thoughts. 

It happened again that night. 

One moment she was in their apartment pulling at her hair anxiously, begging herself to remember something- anything - about the previous night. Then the next thing she knew she was outside. The first thing to hit her was the cold air of the night. The second thing she registered was that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a shirt and jeans. The third and final thing she noticed is what sent her into a panic. The red liquid that covered her hands seemed darker than it was the first time. It coated her hands and left spots on her shirt. In her left hand, she was gripping a knife, from it dripping the same dark substance. 

She dropped the knife to the floor with a loud clutter as if the object had burned her, the metal smacking against the stone pavement. 

The tears collected quickly in her eyes and she brought a trembling hand up to her mouth to stifle the sob that left her lips. 

She’d done this. She’d hurt three people now, killed them. 

She was a monster. 

She watched numbly as the red swirled down the shower drain, the hot water hitting her chest. She’d managed to make it back home before Spencer. She’d hurriedly thrown her shirt in the wash and scrubbed clean the knife before jumping into the shower, as if that would ‘cleanse’ her. The steam from the boiling water filled the room, but she almost welcomed the slightly painful burning feeling. She deserved it. 

Over the last hour, she’d been regaining parts of her memory in flashes, enough to know that she couldn’t deny it any longer. She was a murderer. 

and she didn’t know how to stop herself. 

*

The next day, with the discovery of the third victim within two weeks, the BAU were asked to investigate. 

Spencer was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing, cutting through the blissful silence that filled the room. He blinked his eyes open, a deep groan erupting from his chest as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table- 6:42 AM. It was his day off, but apparently serial killers weren’t very considerate of that. He reached out his hand, blindly searching the table for the annoying buzzing device, careful not to wake Y/N who slept on his chest. 

“Hello?” He mumbled. 

“Reid. I’m sorry, but we’ve got a case. It’s local, another body was found in the park this morning with the same MO. How quickly can you get here?” Hotch spoke, his voice firm. 

Spencer sighed. “Uh yeah, I can be there in 20.”

After hanging up he placed his phone down on the table before moving to press feather-light kisses to Y/N’s forehead to gently wake her from her sleep. 

She stirred, eyelashes fluttering open as she woke. “Spence? What time is it?” 

He ran his fingertips gently up her bare sides. “It’s nearly seven. I’ve got to go to work. I’m sorry, I know we had plans.” He winced at the idea of having to cancel their dinner plans again. 

She looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “It’s okay. We can have dinner any night. You’ve got lives to save, doctor.” She teased and he grinned in response, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. He reluctantly pulled away, untangling himself from her as he headed to the wardrobe to grab his clothes. 

“What state are you off to?” She called over to him from the bed. 

“It’s a local one, actually. They found another body this morning. They think it’s same person that killed the other two girls.” He answered as he buttoned up his shirt. 

It took her half-asleep brain another few seconds to fully comprehend what he’d just said. Her boyfriend was apart of the team that were going to be hunting her down. 

fuck. 

She felt the panic bubble in her chest.

Too caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realised that Spencer, now fully clothed and packing his bag for the day, had been calling her name. She snapped her attention back to him. “Sorry, what?”

He frowned and walked toward her, perching on the edge of the bed as she sat up. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching out his hand to cup her cheek gently. 

She forced a smile, nuzzling her cheek into his palm. “I’m fine I just- I’ll miss you.” 

He gave a sad smile before leaning in and brushing his lips with hers. 

His kisses normally filled her with such warmth, an unspoken reassurance, but all she could feel was dread. 

When he found out what she’d done, it would kill him. 

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He promised once they pulled back. He pecked her lips once more before turning and leaving the room. He was gone for less than a minute before he poked his head back in the doorway. “I love you.” He grinned, showing that dorky smile she was so in love with. 

She laughed a little, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as she thought it did. “I love you.” She called back. 

The sound of the front door closing behind him echoed through the apartment. Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long now before Spencer figured out the inevitable. he wasn’t stupid, the man was a genius for gods sake. The only reason he hadn’t figured her out already was that he was blind-sighted by his love for her. But she knew that soon he’d have no choice but to take her in, arrest her and aid in having her locked away for the rest of her years. 

*

The 10PM news was blaring across the screen of the TV when Spencer came home that night. Hotch had sent the team home to get some rest after a day of no leads. They’d begun to build a profile but it was still fairly vague, so he wanted them to come back the next morning with fresh eyes. 

When he entered the living room, he found Y/N sat on the couch, watching a replay of the BAU’s press conference from earlier that day. Y/N watched with concentrated eyes, biting down her lip as she listened to Hotch speak. She listened to him describe the unsub- describe her. Sitting down on the couch next to his girlfriend, he frowned at the worry evident on her face. Assuming she was worried about the murderer killing women in the neighbourhood he sighed, placing a hand on her thigh soothingly. 

“Hey. It’s okay, you’re safe. As long as I’m here nothing will ever hurt you, I promise.” He murmured, using his gentle grip on her thigh to pull her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. 

She nodded against him, glancing up to see the small smile on his lips. She wished he wouldn’t smile at her like that. She really wished he wouldn’t because that perfect smile just made her want to break down. She hated herself for the hurt she knew this would cause him when he found out the truth. 

He ran his hand up and down her side comfortingly as he spoke. “Are you sure you’re alright, love? You’ve been acting a little strange lately.” 

“I know I have, I’m sorry. I promise I’m fine.” She whispered, hating the she couldn‘t even bring herself to fake certainty in her words. 

Spencer let it go, not wanting to push the subject further and risk upsetting her. That was the night that his suspicion began. 

Spencer began paying more attention to her behaviour, when he was home at least. At first it was with the intention of figuring out what was making her so upset, to see if there was anything he could do to make it better. He felt he owed her that much. Then he started picking up on certain things. 

At first it was just small things like how nervous she seemed all the time, how she constantly bit her lips or fumbled with her fingers. She was jumpy, unsure of herself. There was also other things that further confirmed his suspicions, such as how she would often mumble to herself and had horrible nightmares that left her screaming and trembling in his arms in the early hours of the morning. It frightened him, scared him half to death. What could possibly have been scaring her so much? What was so awful that she couldn’t confide in him? 

After the fourth body turned up, Spencer began to wonder. At first he hated himself for even letting thought of his girlfriend being their unsub cross his mind. However, once they had narrowed down their profile, he noticed how it seemed to fit her a little to well. In fact, it was eerily accurate, and her being behind the murders would explain her nervous mannerisms he’d taken note of. 

Still, he didn’t want to believe it. He simply couldn’t believe that she was capable of that. The woman who’d held him close after rough cases, made cookies with him at 2AM when he couldn’t sleep, and had danced with him to classical music on rainy days. That woman, the woman he loved, she wasn’t a murderer. 

*

“We’re delivering the profile today.” He’d mumbled as he was getting dressed for the day.

He could hear the hitch in her breath before she spoke, clearing her throat first. “I know you’ll catch them, Spence. It’s what you do.”

He just nodded in response. Ever since his suspicion began, he hadn’t been sure how to act around her. Should he have been afraid? No, she would never hurt him. Would she? 

She wasn’t stupid, she knew he suspected her. She knew that as soon as he listened to his team deliver the profile he’d finally let himself believe that it was true, it was her.

He found it odd, that even as he pondered the idea of her being a killer, he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t nervous. That’s what frightened him, the fact that he wasn’t any less in love with her. That the fact she might be a murderer, capable of such horror that he’d witnessed first hand in the field, didn’t seem to spike the fear in him he knew it should. 

She spoke up from across the room. “You know I love you, right? So much. Please don’t forget that.” 

It sounded like a goodbye, and that made Spencer’s heart ache. He didn’t want it to be goodbye. Despite what she’d done, he still loved her more than anything.

He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been disgusted by that.

Instead he quickly turned, moving across the room and grabbing her by the hips, bringing her toward him and pressing a loving kiss her to lips. “I love you too, so much.”

They shared a look, and she gave him a small smile before he turned and left for the BAU. Y/N sighed and began to gather some things to take with her to the apartment she knew he’d come looking for her in. It was only a matter of time now. 

*

Spencer stood behind the team, watching and listening as they delivered the profile to the team of local police officers. He hadn’t wanted to believe it before, but as he listened to his team speak, his eyes flicking across the graphic photos pinned to the evidence board, he knew he couldn’t deny it any longer. 

It was Y/N. 

His breath started getting heavy as the realisation hit him full force. He wanted to cry, the feelings overwhelming him but he knew that time was against him. Only one thing was on his mind- only one thing mattered. 

I have to get to Y/N.

Hotch dismissed the officers, and Derek’s voice brought Spencer away from his thoughts. 

“Kid, you alright?” 

Spencer nodded before mumbling. “I need some air.” He then quickly walked out the glass doors of the station. He pulled out his phone, dialling Garcia’s number with shaking hands. 

“Garcia did you manage to find an address?” He rasped out. The team had used Reid’s geographical profile to figure out the unsub’s comfort zone, and had then tasked Garcia with finding a building from within that zone that the unsub was most likely operating from. 

“Why yes, boy wonder. I was actually about to call you guys, guess you beat me to it.” Her happy voice chirped before she gave him the address. He thanked her, telling her he’d pass it along to the team before hanging up. He spared a glance back into the station at his team, before taking one of the black SUV’s to the address. 

Back at the station, the team were gathered around the table, Hotch dialling Garcia’s number. 

“Where’s Reid?” Emily asked, to which JJ shrugged. 

Derek spoke up. “He said he needed some air, what have you got for us baby girl?”

Garcia let out a sound of confusion. “I told Reid the address already. He was supposed to tell you.” 

“Why would he go alone?” Rossi asked, bewildered. The team shared concerned glances, all full of unhinged confusion. 

“Uh you guys.. the apartment is registered to a Y/N Y/L/N.” Garcia gasped, and the team shared a look. 

“Isn’t that Spencer’s girlfriend?” Emily stammered, clearly as shocked as the rest of them. They’d all met Y/N once or twice, and could immediately see why Reid was so infatuated with her. 

“Yeah, It is.” Derek confirmed before dashing outside to look for Spencer. He came back a moment later shaking his head to signal that Spencer was nowhere to be found. “He’s gone, and he’s taken an SUV with him.”

“He knew.” JJ deduced, the shock finding its way into her expression. “Did you see his face when we were delivering the profile? He figured it out.” 

“Reid’s gone to warn her.” Hotch stated, and within seconds they were getting up from their chairs and rushing to the cars that waited outside.

*

Spencer briskly walked up the stairs to the apartment building, pushing open the door and making his way up three flights of stairs to get to the door number on the address Garcia had given him. His palms were sweaty and his throat was dry, his thoughts were fast paced and non-stop. 

What was he going to do, arrest his girlfriend? Apprehend her like some animal? He didn’t think he had the heart to. 

The door was already open as he approached, and so he entered cautiously with his gun drawn. 

As soon as he walked in, he came face to face with Y/N, who was sat on the couch in the middle of the room, where she’d clearly been awaiting his arrival. She locked eyes with him, her lip quivering as she spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.” She whispered, tears collecting in her eyes. “You have to know- I never wanted to hurt those women. I don’t- I don’t even remember doing it. I black out, come home with someone’s blood on my hands and I-” Her words caught in her throat as she supressed the sob that rose from deep in her chest. 

“Why didn’t you run? You had time.” Spencer asked, his gun still raised. Perhaps it was out of habit, but he couldn’t help how the weapon seemed to feel heavy in his shaking hands. 

“It wouldn’t do me any good. I deserve this. I deserve to pay for what I’ve done and if that means I spend my life in a cell then so be it.” She raised her hands in surrender, a small smile on her lips. “It’s okay, Spencer. I promise. I know you have to do this, its your job.”

Spencer watched as tears trembled down her cheeks. He didn’t understand. She was right, it was his job. It was his duty, as an officer of the law, to protect people from the bad guys, the rapists and the murderers. But when he looked at her, he didn’t see a cold hearted killer. He saw his beautiful girlfriend, the woman he wanted to marry one day. The woman he’d protect with his life. 

It was that thought that made him toss his gun to the floor.

“What’re you doing, Spence?” Y/N whispered, hands dropping to her sides. 

“I’m not taking you in. We need to go, we need to get out of here.” He spoke in a rushed voice, walking toward her.

She shook her head, confused. “What do you mean you’re not taking me in? Spencer, I killed four people. I deserve to rot in prison. You’ll lose your job if you don’t take me in-“

He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself, his eyes locking onto hers.  “Y/N I know what you’ve done. But I just- I don’t care. It’s crazy, I don’t understand it. But I have to protect you, and if that means giving up the job then so be it. I won’t watch you waste away behind bars.” He was begging, and Y/N had never been more conflicted. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. Spencer was supposed to arrest her. And she would’ve gone willingly, without hesitation or trouble. She’d committed the crime, she would happily do her time for that.

“What’re you saying?” She mumbled. 

He flicked up his wrist to look at his watch, incoherent words leaving his mouth in inaudible whispers before he cleared his throat and spoke. “We have about eight minutes until the team get here. We need to go now. You and me, we’ll get out of here. We’ll just go and start a life together somewhere else, okay?”

She couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. A few years ago, Spencer Reid would never have said that. The job meant everything to the young doctor, and he would honour it until the end. However, if you asked Spencer, he’d say that all of that changed the day fell in love with Y/N. That was the day he knew he’d put her life and her happiness before anything else.  “But I’ll be on the run, always watching my back. You’ve worked so hard for all of your life to get where you are, I can’t be the reason you lose that-“

He moved towards her, grabbing her hands in his in a desperate plead. “Y/N. I’d run forever if it meant a lifetime with you. Just please, we have to go.” 

“If this is some trick to get me to go with you so you can arrest me, don’t bother. I’ll go without resistance, I told you-“ She scoffed but he cut her off, shaking his head insistently. 

“No- it’s not a trick. I promise. I love you. I need you, and if this is the price I have to pay for that then so be it.” His breaths were heavy as he met her eyes.  

 Was she really gonna do this? She saw the pleading and desperation that he held in his honey brown orbs, and found herself nodding in acceptance.

Spencer gave a sigh of relief. “Okay. Do you have anything here worth keeping?” He gestured to the apartment and she shook her head. 

With minutes to spare, they hopped into the SUV and drove away with no particular destination. Spencer had timed everything almost perfectly, and the pair had just enough time to get out of town before police blockades were put in place. He knew they’d have to ditch the car when they got out of town to avoid the plates being tracked, and they’d most likely have to alter their appearances and only ever pay with cash but as he looked over at the beautiful girl in the passenger seat he couldn’t help but think that it was the most free he’d ever felt.

He loved the girl sat next to him, more than anything in the world. And he’d proved just what extent he’d go to to protect her.

*

“We were too late.” Derek sighed. The team had burst into the apartment mere minutes after Y/N and Spencer had made their escape. They were scouring the apartment for any indication as to where the pair had gone while they waited for backup to arrive at the scene. 

“Where’s Spence?” JJ asked, confused as to why he wasn’t at the scene when they arrived.

“Maybe he confronted her and she took him hostage?” Emily proposed, but Hotch came into the room shaking his head. 

“No, come look in here.” He called and the team gathered into the kitchen, where their eyes fell on three items that sat on the dining table. “Reid went willingly. Look at this.”

On the table were Spencer’s badge and gun, along with a note, written in what was definitely Spencer’s writing. ‘ “I’m sorry. I love her.” ‘

JJ gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. “Are you saying that he helped her escape?”

“It would seem so.” Rossi murmured, and none of the team knew what to do next. An uncertain silence fell upon the team until the sound of rustling paper filled the room. Hotch was screwing up the note, shoving into the pocket of his slacks. 

“Hotch what’re you doing?” Morgan gaped, his mouth open in shock and perplexity.

Hotch looked up at his team and spoke with the same stern voice as always, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “SSA Reid was never involved with this, do you all understand? He resigned after finding out that Y/N was the unsub, and moved back to Vegas to be close to his mother. None of us have heard from him since. By the time we got here, we’d just missed Y/N.”

For a moment, the team shared confused looks, but then suddenly it dawned on them.

Hotch was trying to protect Spencer by asking the team to lie about what had happened. 

He wanted them to lie to the Bureau, the section chief, everyone who knew Spencer. It was unsurprising that the team all nodded silently, the need to protect the man who’d become like family to them was overwhelming.

And so, Garcia didn’t track Spencer’s license plates. All of their official reports said that Spencer had resigned upon finding out his girlfriend was the unsub, and Garcia had fabricated a letter of resignation on Spencer’s behalf, even signed with a forged signature.

They did everything they could to protect him, and in all honesty none of the team felt guilty. They were protecting their own, their family. Despite what Y/N had done, they all surprised themselves with how greatly they were willing to cover up the truth. 

After all, how far would you go to protect your family?

As Spencer drove past the large sign that told them they were leaving the town, he looked over to Y/N, a grin on his lips.

“I love you.” He simply said, and she smiled back in response.

What would you do to protect the one you love?

“I love you.”

For Spencer, the answer was simple.

Whatever it takes.

[cajon-desastre]

I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply can’t do small talk.

Bridgett Devoue

[ardent-reflections]

I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply can't do small talk.

Bridgett Devoue

[still-a-muse-blog]

Lockridge Twins

"Oh but that's the irony, broken people are not fragile." —Clinton Sammy Jnr.

Clementine Lockridge:

“I think I've come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am.” —Jenny Slate.

Known mostly as Lemen, this young woman is bitter to the very end. Her blue eyes are all ice and anger, and you're more likely to be met with mean-spirited snark than kindness if you were to approach her. The best you could hope for is indifference. Yet, if you are lucky enough to get past her defences and be close to her, you'll find that Lemen is loyal and nurturing by nature, with an almost debilitation and overwhelming desire to be loved and to be known.

Lemen dropped out of school when her and her brother ran away at fifteen, a hatred for structured learning and education deep inside her. Even when finding stability again, Lemen never returned to school and instead chooses to follow in her (for all intents and purposes) adoptive father's footsteps as he mentors her in private investigating. Lemen is able to talk anyone out of their deepest, darkest secrets, and analyse anything put in front of her. She's a problem solver, organised, and not above playing dirty. She's also got the money behind her to be comfortable acting outside the law.

Lemen is the oldest of the twins, having spent six whole minutes alone in the world before her brother was born and she was never alone again. This is probably why Lemen's one true weakness is Saxon, and her deepest fear is losing him.

Species: born werewolf

Saxon Lockridge:

"I love people with curious minds and stubborn hearts who simply cannot do small talk." —Bridgett Devoue.

Mostly referred to as Sax by those close to him, this blonde and blue-eyed boy is conventionally attractive and astoundingly intelligent. His genuine love of learning and sharing knowledge, his uncanny ability to recognise patterns, and his eidetic memory all qualify Sax to be labelled a nerd. He also has autism, which presents heavily in his long-term hyperfixation on birds. Another long-term hyperfixation of his is trains, but with every other trait/habit that marked Saxon as neurodivergent and other, shame was beaten into him from a young age for this particular love of his.

Saxon's sense of humour is subtle, made up of sly comments under his breath or commentary muttered to those closest to him. He also utilises his blank and deadpan expressions to deliver one-liners that are only funny if you know him well, or will otherwise take seriously. He also thoroughly enjoys using others' ableism against them, such as treating someone like an infant if they baby-talk at him, or cutting up someone else's food if they cut up his.

Unlike Lemen, whose one fear is losing him, Saxon's fear is losing everyone. His relationship with abandonment is a long one, and it has a chokehold on him in every aspect of his existence. His other crippling fear is claustrophobia, due to his parents locking him away in a closet when he did something they didn't like. Still, Saxon's fear doesn't hold him back, because to be brave you must first be afraid.

Species: born werewolf

It's a Twin Thing:

"If you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand." -Richard Siken

The relationship between the Lockridge twins is deep and layered. The twins were born to an unwilling woman who'd been impregnated by force and discarded after the post-natal care was complete. Mr. Lockridge had wanted his nuclear family of blondes and blue eyes, and he'd wanted smart, able-bodied, and willing children he could indoctrinate into his world of corrupt politics and business practices. He also wanted werewolf children, to parade around and utilise when they were old enough to shift. His wife, a mortal woman with brown eyes, wasn't good enough to bare children for him.

Saxon, with the autism diagnosis pinned to his lapel by the age of five, wasn't good enough for Mr. Lockridge either. He was written off as useless and a waste of resources despite his intelligence. He was weird. Broken. Defective. Mr. Lockridge would have gotten a refund on him if that was at all possible. However, by this time, it was too late and Lemen was willing to not only die for her brother, but to kill for him too. Instead of sending Saxon away to be someone else's problem, he was turned into a weapon against Lemen. Punish Sax when Lemen did something wrong and you soon had Lemen toeing the line and following the rules to protect him.

As punishments grew to become abuse no matter if a twin had done something wrong, and Lemen was forced to listen to Saxon's distress and pleas for her to help him, Lemen grew to resent and hate her father and the woman raising her.

When they were fifteen, Lemen did finally kill for her brother. The twins, with their combined strengths and curiosity and stubbornness, uncovered the circumstances around their birth, which led to Lemen deciding it was finally time for her to get her brother out of their home. It wasn't safe, if that was what they did to those who no longer served a purpose to them. They ran away, only to get hauled back kicking and screaming a day later. Saxon was torn away from Lemen and locked away again, and this time it accompanied a promise that they wouldn't let him out again. He was going to be left to starve, or suffocate, and Lemen was bound outside the closet to listen.

Saxon couldn't hear what was happening from inside the closet and deafened by his own panic, but when Lemen opened the door to let him out, she was covered in blood and they didn't stay in San Francisco for much longer.

Saxon is the driving force behind every decision Lemen has ever made, and Lemen is the only dependable constant in Saxon's life.

*All pictures in mood boards taken from Pinterest or Tumblr and made with Collage Maker*

[justthehiddleswrites]

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 1| ... We Go To My Room?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships

-

Five Years Earlier

“Yes, I accept!”

Emma hung up the phone and ducked into a nearby hotel where she knew the bar served half-off appetizers and cheap drinks. A packed bar in the early evening did not bode well. Emma waded through the sea of ill-fitting suits and too-tight shift dresses to reach the bar. She motioned to the bartender who came over to take her order.

“Jack and Seven, please.”

The bartender slid the drink over and she searched for a place to sit. She found a small table in the corner with two chairs. She collapsed into the nearest one and took a big swig of her drink. Emma pulled her phone out and started on a text to her mother with the good news.

“Excuse me, but I believe you took my seat.” a smooth voice with a British accent commented.

She turned to see a tall man smiling behind her. His curly blonde hair gelled in place. She stood to move.

“It’s all right. I’ll take the empty one.”

“Sorry...” Emma paused looking at the man.

“…Thomas, Tom. And you are…?”

“Em…Emma.”

“Em…Emma. Nice to meet you. Mind if I share the table with you? There are only limited options around.”

She nodded. Tom sat down, scooting the chair over to give Emma plenty of room.

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” Emma asked, rolling her eyes at the obvious question.

Tom chuckled.

“What gave it away? The accent?”

“The suit.” Emma said, deadpan and Tom broke out into a full laughter.

“So, what brings you to America, Thomas?” Emma asked as she took a long drink of her whiskey, finishing up what was in the glass. It burned down her throat.

Tom sipped his drink while contemplating the question.

“I’m here to do some interviews on a recent project I did.”

“Oh, what line of work are you in?”

“I’m an actor.”

Emma’s ears perked up.

“Would I have seen you in something?”

Tom almost choked on his drink, not used to having to explain his burgeoning celebrity status.

“I played Loki in the Thor movies and The Avengers.”

Emma stared back, unmoved.

“I don’t watch superhero movies.” Emma’s nose crinkled up at the word “superhero.”

Tom continued, digging into his filmography, stunned that she didn’t know about Loki.

“Only Lovers Left Alive? War Horse? Midnight in Paris?”

“Nope.”

Tom frowned.

“I just finished a run of Coriolanus at the Donmar.”

Emma leaned in.

“Ooh. Shakespeare.”

“You know Coriolanus? I’m impressed.”

“Oh, the Bard and I are on intimate terms. He was the subject of my senior thesis.”

Tom’s eyebrows drew up, and he pulled back.

“Oh! I studied Classics at Cambridge.”

Emma sipped the rest of her drink, already getting tipsy on her empty stomach.

“So Cambridge, can you say something in Latin?”

Tom gulped down the rest of his whiskey for some liquid courage. He unbuttoned his jacket and swooped it back with dramatic flair before leaning close to Emma. Heat radiated off of him like a furnace. She fought the urge to just melt against his broad shoulders. Tom cleared his throat before continuing.

“Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.”

Emma raised her glass.

“May we all yield to love.”

Tom raised his now empty glass.

“To love,” they clinked their glasses together. Tom went to drink and realized he finished his drink.

“I think we need more drinks. What was yours?”

“Jack and Seven .”

Tom’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Whiskey. My kind of girl.”

Emma blushed as Tom headed off to the bar. Emma’s stomach flipped. God, he was handsome. After several minutes, he returned two glasses in hand.

“So, are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?” Tom asked as he handed over the drink.

“Celebrating. I just booked my first big job.”

Tom beamed and brought the glass to his lips.

“Congratulations! What kind of job?”

“Acting.”

Tom spit his drink back into this glass.

“You could have led with that.”

“And miss that spit take? Not a chance.” Emma quipped, openly flirting now.

“What kind of acting job?”

“A minor part on a soap, but there is an opportunity to grow.”

“I wish you well.”

They clinked glasses once again. Two drinks turned to three, which turned to four. Emma and Tom talked about everything from horror stories from the acting trenches to family to hopes and dreams for the future. After the fourth drink, the bartender started giving them the eye.

“I think he wants us to leave.” Emma giggled from both alcohol and giddiness running through her veins. Her smile faded and she let out a breathy sigh as she had to leave.

“We should take this upstairs.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, take the conversation some place private. Like my hotel room.”

She gulped. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe her good mood, but going up to Tom’s room sounded enticing.

“You know what?” Emma slammed her hands on the table, rattling the glasses, “That is a brilliant idea.”

Tom laughed and the two of them rose to leave the hotel bar. They giggled the entire way through the lobby. Tom rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting for the elevator. Emma sidled up to Tom, fingers brushing up against his. The skin on skin contact sent electricity through Emma’s body. There was more than just alcohol coursing through her veins as she drank in the sight of Tom.

He glanced over and smiled at Emma. Tom marveled at the sight of this woman next to him. Her dark brown hair pulled into a simple ponytail and her casual clothes failed to convey the complex personality underneath. He was drunk and not on whiskey. He wanted to know everything about Emma.

The elevator dinged. Emma stepped in first, pressing herself against the back wall. Tom followed suit, leaning on the wall next to her. The tension in the air was palpable and Tom noticed his collar getting tighter and his palms sweating. As the doors slid closed, Tom leaned in towards Emma.

“Hold the door!” a small voice called out. Startled and flustered, Tom reached out to hit the button and straighten himself up. Emma smiled as she turned her head away. An elderly woman entered the elevator, ladened with shopping bags.

“Hit floor 6 for me, please?” she asked Tom, smiling up at him.

“Certainly, my dear.”

“Are you from England?”

Emma hid her face as she worked to contain her laughter. Tom responded with a smile.

“I am. Wimbledon, in fact.”

“Isn’t that where they play tennis?”

“It is.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted the exchange, and the lady stepped out.

“You two youngsters have a nice evening.”

“Thank you,” Emma added, giving her a little wave.

Once the doors shut door, the two of them burst into laughter. Tom swung around, leaning over Emma’s small frame. He rubbed Emma’s arm, again sending electricity straight to her core. She swallowed hard before gazing up at Tom’s blue eyes.

“Now, where were we?” Tom asked as he pushed even closer.

“You were flirting with that old lady there?” Emma cracked a joke to distract from the butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh, that was not flirting,” Tom smirked, moving his face within inches of Emma’s.

Tom swore he heard her heart beating faster with each passing second.

“It wasn’t?” she squeaked, becoming more anxious.

Emma looked to see there was a way to escape but Tom’s arm caged her against the elevator wall.

“No, flirting requires the interplay of two peoples wants and desires…”

“Desires...” Emma repeated after Tom becoming lost in his words.

“Yes. As they say, it takes two to tango.”

Emma blushed at the thought and Tom took this opportunity to close any remaining distance between them. His lips crashed against hers with a sense of want and lust. Emma’s body softened against him and reciprocated the affection.

Tom sighed against Emma’s lips and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deeper. Tom, overcome with lust, pushed his hips into Emma. She moaned as his hardness brushed against her. Tom lost control as he slid his hand down Emma’s side, grazing over her waist, hips, and thighs before hooking his hand behind her knee and lifting it up.

The elevator interrupted their interlude by reaching Tom’s floor. Tom released Emma, and they were both flushed and panting. Emma attempted to straighten herself as the doors opened. Tom grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the corridor. Once they reached Tom’s room, he fumbled in his pockets for the key card. After what seemed like an eternity but was mere moments, Tom got the door opened and ushered Emma into the room. The door slammed behind them and Tom wasted no time.

“At last, you are mine,” Tom growled as he attacked Emma’s lips again.

His tongue was insistent and Emma moaned, granting it access. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths. With each passing moment, Emma’s arousal grew more and more. She threw her arms around Tom’s neck, holding on for dear life. Tom placed his hands on both of Emma’s thighs. He lifted her and shoved Emma’s back into the wall.

“Ahh!” she yelped.

“You are intoxicating, love,” Tom growled into Emma’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

His words spurred Emma on and she pulled on his jacket, ripping it off his shoulders. Her hands then turned to unbuttoning his shirt. Tom pulled her top off in one motion, exposing her skin to the cold air of the hotel room. Tom moaned in appreciation at Emma’s curves before devouring that sweet spot in the crook of her neck. It was as though that spot connected to her core.

“Tom?” she breathed.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me.”

Tom’s lips curved into a devious smile.

“With pleasure.”

Tom pulled Emma across the room until her back landed onto the soft sheets of the bed. She propped herself on her elbows to watch Tom undress at the end of the bed. He undid the buttons of his shirt and peeled the shirt off, dropping it on the floor. He undid his belt and fly next. Emma licked her lips in anticipation.

“Is someone enjoying the show?” Tom asked as he pulled the belt from the loops at a painstakingly slow pace.

Emma could only nod, not trusting her voice to cooperate. Tom took this as an opportunity to torture her. He lowered his pants, kicking them off behind him. Emma could see the sizable bulge in his boxer briefs. Emma gulped at the thought of him filling her to the hilt. She was gushing. Tom moved to hover over her on the bed. He moved like a jungle cat stalking his prey. He started kissing Emma on her collarbone. She arched her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the side. Tom turned his attention to Emma’s now heaving chest.

He took one of her nipples and sucked with fervor.

“Oh, God!” Emma groaned, and she tangled her hands in his blond curls. This only spurred on Tom as he drew his attention to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, eliciting the same reaction from Emma. She struggled to undo her jeans, when Tom grabbed her hands.

“Allow me.”

With deft hands, Tom made short work on the button and fly of Emma’s jeans. She bucked her hips up to allow Tom to pull them down, taking her underwear with him. She laid there naked as Tom drank in the sight. His eyes hooded with lust, he pressed his chest into hers as he crushed against her lips.

“Perfection,” Tom muttered as his hands raked across her body. As his hands grazed her pubic bone, Emma shifted her legs apart, granting him access to her glistening sex. Tom’s fingers slid up and down her slit, collecting juices along the way.

“So wet for me. So ready,” Tom moaned into Emma’s ear.

With no warning, Tom pushed one long digit into Emma’s pussy and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders. Tom chuckled as her walls gripped onto his finger.

“You are so eager to please.”

He pumped his finger in and out at a languid pace, drawing out Emma’s pleasure. Soon, he added a second finger and quickened his pace. His other hand found her clit, drawing tight circles. There was a tightening in her core.

“Oh, yes!” She gasped as Tom curled his fingers inside.

“Come on darling, cum for me,” Tom urged on as he continued to fuck Emma with his fingers.

“Don’t stop!”

Tom continued to finger Emma, curling his fingers while stimulating her clit. Before long, the coil snapped and Emma orgasmed.

“Fuck. Me!” Emma screamed as waves of pleasure washed over her. Tom pulled off his underwear and lined up with her entrance, pushing in to the hilt.

Emma never felt so full in her life. Tom filled every inch of her.

“Oh God, you feel amazing,” Tom exclaimed, and he began to thrust, pushing in balls deep each time.

A second orgasm fast approached and Tom’s hip thrusts grew more and more erratic. Tom cried out as he spilled into her and moments later, she came. The two of them collapsed onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.

-

The next morning, Emma woke to find the bed empty. She rolled over and found the spot still warm. As she still detected him on the pillow, spices and woods. Emma heard the bathroom door open and Tom stepped out, wearing only a towel around his waist.

“Morning.” he said with a smile.

“Morning.” she responded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Um… I guess we should talk.”

Emma blushed.

“Might be a good idea after last night.”

“Yeah, I don’t do that sort of thing. You know… last night… with girls… I mean ladies… I’m a nice guy, I swear.” Tom blabbered about, the last few words squeaking out.

Emma couldn’t help but giggle.

“Nervous much?” It’s fine. I never sleep with someone the first time I meet them either.”

Tom smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I would like to see you again.” Tom ran his hand up and down Emma’s arm.

There are those shivers again.

“Me too.”

“But I am leaving New York today for London.”

Emma noticed the packed bag by the door. In the heat of passion last night, she had missed it. Emma’s face dropped.

“Oh.”

“But I should be back in three weeks’ time. Can I take you out on a proper date?”

Emma nodded.

“Until then, how about some room service breakfast?” Tom stood to head over to the phone.

Emma’s stomach growled in response.

“I will take that as a yes.” Tom smiled.

He ordered breakfast for two and got dressed while Emma took a shower. She washed her hair before slipping back into the clothes from last night.

“Here.” Tom shoved a shirt in Emma’s face. “In case you don’t want to wear the same shirt again.”

Emma took the shirt and switched out. The shirt smelled of Tom.

“Thanks.”

By this time the food arrived. The two of them ate in a hurry, chatting and exchanging numbers, Tom’s car set to arrive soon. As Emma shoved the last piece into her mouth, Tom’s phone rang.

“I’ll be right down.”

Emma walked out with him. Tom leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

“Three weeks. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

It wasn’t a date. Emma got busy with her new role, and then sick and they canceled plans. Tom and she her exchanged phone calls, emails, even a few video chats. But never met in person again.

As the weeks turned to months, the texts became more scarce. Both their careers continued to prosper, Tom with a Golden Globe performance as Jonathan Pine and Emma translated a few Daytime Emmy wins into starring in a prime time drama. After 18 months, the texts stopped altogether. Emma forgot about the one-night stand.

Present Day

“Em?” a familiar voice rang out across the L.A. restaurant.

Emma looked around for the source. It couldn’t be a fan, no one called her “Em” anymore. She saw a man with unruly ginger curls wearing a tailored suit, making a beeline towards her. Her eyes widened and her heart jumped into her throat. All the memories of that night rushed back to her like a tidal wave.

“Is that who I think it is?” Corrine, Emma’s friend asked, tugging on her arm.

The man reached her table and Emma rose to her feet, gripping the table for support.

“I can’t believe it is you, Em!” he pulled her into a big bear hug. He still smelled of spices and woods.

“Tom!” Emma pulled from the embrace, looking him over. “Nice beard.”

Tom chuckled as he rubbed his hand through the whiskers. The two of them stared at one another for what seemed an eternity. Corrine cleared her throat and Emma jumped at the sound.

“So sorry! Corrine, Tom Hiddleston. Tom, Corrine Saunders, my friend and former publicist.”

“Charmed.“ Corrine cooed as she extended her hand palm down.

Tom gave a nervous chuckle before giving it an anemic shake.

“So Tom,” Corrine started in. “How in the hell do you know our little Emma over here? She’s never mentioned you before.”

Emma’s face flushed as the color drained from Tom’s. They exchanged knowing looks before Tom cleared his throat.

“Well, it is a funny story.” Tom started as he pulled on his collar.

Emma wasn’t laughing.

[k-dokja]

SOFT THORNS — “i don’t want you to be in love with someone else” | IV OUT OF IV

Summary: Collection of writing based on lines taken from Bridgett Devoue’s Soft Thorns.

Daniel thought about it.

Concealing the truth is not a good place to be in. Pretending he is not hiding a life-changing secret from you affects him more than he expected. Yes, you are happy these days. Warmer than how you were before with him, but maybe it's his own delusion clouding his vision. Like if he convinces his own mind that you're happy enough times, then it wouldn't be a big deal when you find out about the truth.

Yes, he has another body. But his physical form has no business changing his feelings because he'd be enamoured with you either way. Even if you've grown a bit more distant with his original body since you begin to date his new form, he understands. You're taken now, it's normal to be distant from another boy your age.

He only wishes that he can be honest about his feeling for you no matter which shape he's in. It feels strange to want to reach out and touch you, only to remember that this version of him has no business being this close to you.

It disheartens him, but what else can he do? He made his bed and now he's going to sleep in it. Not for long, hopefully. He wants to be honest with you one of these days. All he can take now is the infrequent encounter the two of you have in this body, which becomes even rarer after he stops working at the convenience store.

Only by chance, does he see you again. Out on a night walk, like he was. However, what stands out to him is the location where he runs into you. In front of the convenience store, he would've laughed at the irony of it if he was able to explain how he feels.

After the continuous absence in each other's lives, the two of you decide to catch up over cool energy drinks at the front of the convenience store. Between the two of you, somehow, he has always been the more talkative one. Maybe it's how he always feels comfortable with sharing with you, never facing the fear of your judgment.

Yet, today, he cannot find anything to say beyond the small talk. Because whatever else going on with your life, he knows thanks to the other body of his. It leaves him in stagnation, not knowing if he can filter his own knowledge before he says something suspicious.

Finally, an idea comes to mind. The only one which would bode well as a common ground.

"I heard you're dating big Daniel now... congratulations," he broaches the topic on his own and immediately sees how foolish it is, "I hope he makes you happy."

"We're... fine," you smile with pressed lips, he feels nauseous, "he's really sweet and he treats me well, I think we can make a nice couple, yeah."

Hesitantly, he asks, "You don't sound confident."

At that, you wince. It takes you a moment to sigh and then figure out what to say. He waits patiently, hoping to figure out what to fix before everything goes wrong. Maybe you have suspected something is amiss with him. He knows he should take the initiative in admitting to the truth, but something keeps holding him back.

His fear. He's afraid of so much, especially when it comes to you.

"Well," you begin, "promise me you will keep this a secret from him?"

Quietly, he nods. You smile, a bit more relaxed now but nowhere near at ease. "I might or might not have been liking somebody else when he asked me out," you confess with those words alone are enough to shake his world upside down, but whether you notice or not, you don't tell, "I agreed to go out with him in hope to get over the other person but..."

You sigh again, kicking back on the park bench, "It's strange, you know," you continue, "I thought I would move on better if I'm with somebody else, but being with him reminds me of..."

When you turn to meet his eyes, Daniel knows not what to think. But you have that look on your face again, always on the verge of admission yet never crossing the line. "It always strikes me as weird how similar the Daniel and him are, but... that makes me even more confused. I don't know if I like Daniel for who he is or because he reminds me of someone I like."

His heart throbs once more. He never knows the truth can hurt, but maybe it is for the best that he knows now. Even if you like somebody else, you've given him a chance to find out. He knows it's no good to pry this out of you when you're telling him in confidence. Yet, however wrong it is, at least, he's not swimming in the dark. "May... May I ask who it is that you like? Maybe, I can help, somehow."

You laugh. It's a touch hollow, enough for him to flinch. After everything that happened to him the past few months, the last two years even, he continues to flounder when it comes to you. He has much room to grow yet.

"Can you?"

"I'll try," he nods, resolutely. It's not simply for you. If he says that, he'd be more of a liar than he is. It's for him, too, maybe he can make this work somehow, as an outsider.

"What if I said it's you who I like?" You put on a sardonic grin and for once, Daniel knows that paralysis from fear can come from something which gives him so much joy. "Would you try to help me then?"

"Wait... what?" He blinks, a bit taken aback. "Are you serious? You shouldn't mess around about these things, you know. I'm only trying to—"

You shrug, "I'm not messing around. If I was, I wouldn't have told you the truth. You can ask Zack about it, if you want, he knows I like you way before I started going out with Daniel."

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Hesitation leaves him wondering what he can say here without digging a grave of his own. So much of your time could've been saved if he knows about this before, it leaves him baffled and confused. "Why didn't you say anything?" He asks, quieter than expected. "I... I didn't know at all."

With a quiet chuckle, you shrug again, "Of course, you didn't, I keep it concealed for a reason, wouldn't want to make it weird for you and—" you gesture at nothing at all "—you know, Zoe, I didn't want the two of you to feel weird because of me. Figured it would be for the best that I move on before I make anything awkward."

"What does Zoe have to do with this?" He frowns, before adding. "Yes, I know she has feelings for me but... it's never like that for me. I will always cherish her as a friend, but I have somebody else I like, too."

You stare at him for a moment. Whatever you're trying to find on his face, he suspects you give up before seeing it because it might complicate everything even further. You let out a huff of breath, turning away and kicking at the dust underfoot. "Well, it doesn't change anything for me, you like someone else anyway and I'm with Daniel, now. I want to try and make it work with him"

"But you can be honest to yourself and make it work with him," Daniel answers, "I think he would've understood."

Even with the smile on your face, you narrow your eyes, "That's a big assumption," you point it, "did he tell you that? I can't imagine why he would."

"No, he didn't," he says, "but I know anyway, because..."

Before it can come out, he swallows back. Daniel breathes out in the hope to regain his courage. "I know it's late, but can you do me a favour?"

"Wild change of topic, but okay, depends on what it is," you meet his eyes, half-amused and half-confused.

He doesn't miss the concern in your eyes, but he knows this would be it. If there's any time for honesty, then it would be this moment. "Come with me then, I have something to show you."

When he waves for you to follow him, you do. However, it is not without question. "Where are we going?"

"My place," he draws in a breath, "there's something, I... The other Daniel and I would like to show you, please. I promise it won't take long."

It's early in the evening but he cannot help but worry that you might take this the wrong way. After all, he cannot deny that it's dangerous for a girl to be out at this hour. All of these nerves make him even quieter once the two of you are on your way. You, however, continue to crack jokes like it's nothing. Maybe it's how you cope. "So what is going on here? Are the two of you secretly in a polygamist cult?"

"Uh, no, nothing like that," Daniel scratches the back of his neck, "the truth might be weirder, though, depends on how you see it."

"Is it weird that I'm both intrigued and terrified for my life?" You muse. "I would like to think I know both of you enough to have nothing to fear from you, but this is weird, I hope you realize that."

He tries to smile, "I know it's weird," but it will get weirder, he doesn't know how to say that without you running for the hill, "but trust me on this one, I... I think it's necessary to say."

"Ha, are you going to drag me to him and make me fess up the truth now that you've heard it from me?" You jest. "Very insidious, Daniel Park. Very insidious, indeed."

He laughs a little if only to calm his nerves. "I don't think that's necessary at all," by then, the two of you reach his front door, "because Daniel already knows."

You frown, a touch confused. Yet, you make no comment while he unlocks his door and turns on the light. "Come in," he gestures for you once he enters the house.

Upon closing the door, you begin to scan around in mild curiosity, however, it is when your eyes are set on the taller Daniel that you speak once more. "Did you drag me here to reveal that he sleeps naked? Because I already got some vibes from him that he might be a freak deep down."

"What—No! No, nothing like that." Daniel laughs nervously. How does he even exude that vibe? Maybe he comes across as too eager for you... it's a subconscious thing, he can't help it. But that is not what matters at this very moment. "Let me show you."

He squats down next to his taller body, finding a nice angle to fall on. It takes him a moment before he summons his courage again, if only because it's the one time he ever shows the truth to anyone. Then, with another lungful of breath, he slaps at his taller body's head and finds his own eyes blacking out.

Immediately, light returns to his eyes again. He finds the vision in front of him is of none other than his own ceiling. Daniel springs up in his taller body like an automated toy. He immediately searches for you, hoping you haven't fled in the time he has taken to change. It's nowhere near enough to break for the door, but you haven't strayed far away from it since you entered.

He understands your apprehension. He does. But this is necessary. "Ta...da?"

"Uh..." You frown again. "What?"

"I..." He tries to find the word and struggles to narrow it down. In the end, he opts for the straightforward truth. "I have two bodies."

You edge back further towards the door. "...Interesting," you say, not showing an ounce of belief, "I think I'm going to leave now."

"No, wait!" Daniel scrambles for you and belatedly remembers that he is naked from the waist down, too. He pulls back, keeping firm of his modesty while hoping for the best that he can convince you from where he sits. "I really have two bodies, I know it's hard to believe but is it any easier to believe than two dudes having the same name living in the same house?"

"Statistically, it's more plausible than—" you air quote "—having two bodies."

He groans, a bit befuddled by your response, but he wouldn't back down there. Not after he already gets this far. "Listen, I know it's not easy to believe, but it's truth," he says, "see, whenever I'm awake, he isn't, and vice versa, look."

With a slap on his original body, his vision blackens out again. He never stays unconscious for long, however, his original body props up, turning to face you. "It's the truth," Daniel readjusts his glasses which has gone askew when he falls unconscious, "the two of us are one, him and I, all this time."

Slowly, you lower yourself down on the floor, trying to make sense of things. He can see your legs wobble. The struggle between leaving and staying because you want to understand as much as you want to wash your hands off this all together is apparent on your face. Daniel swallows, hoping that just this once, fates will be kind to him.

"That's a big claim you're making," you level your gaze with him, and he meets you evenly, even if his nerves are fraying at the edges, "even if that's the truth... you've concealing this the whole time?"

"...Only after I enrolled in Jaewon High," he admits, "the taller body came to be a day before I came to school. Since then... we've been one and the same, living under two identities while sharing the same mind."

"I don't get it," you frown, "scientifically, this is impossible."

He nods, "I know. I've been trying to make sense of it, too. There's so much more at play in this, I don't even know where to begin."

"So make it simple," you glare at him, "either you make it simple or I'll leave."

Again, he swallows. It'd be a struggle to find where to begin, but he finds it eventually. For once, he unloads the weight on his chest to somebody else. Your original scepticism eventually morphs to attentiveness. You emote little in the time he tells his story, everything from how he comes to accommodate this life to his involvement with the Four Crews.

It's a lengthy story, he has to admit. He fumbles a bit when it comes to his time with the homeless people. It's mortifying, to say the least, but he soldiers on because of you. Then comes everything afterwards, and finally, there he is, sitting in front of you and speaking the honest truth for the first time in days.

"There you have it..." He says. "I know it's not easy to believe but... it's everything which has been happening to me up until this point, I understand that you don't want to associate with us... with me, after this, but all of it is the truth, but I... I hope you understand why I wanted to keep this a secret."

By now, you have pulled your knees up against your chest while listening to him talk. You look a bit distracted by the end of it. Probably, you need the time to sort it out. He decides to be patient once more and wait until you put your words together.

It's a quiet type of agony to experience. Like waiting for the blade to hover above his neck, not knowing whether it will land down or he will live to see another day.

Finally, you speak, "Thank you for telling me. I'm trying to wrap my head around it but... I think I get some of it."

He nods, "O-Of course, thank you for listening. I... You deserve the truth, especially now that we're, uh," Daniel tugs at his collar, "dating, I should be honest with you about it... about all of it."

You press your lips together, again. "Can you... Can you do that thing again? The switch?"

"Of course! Of course," he turns to his other body once more, "let me..."

With a smack, the switch happens again. It's not often that he switches this rapidly in the same time frame, but the adjustment isn't so bad. He clambers to sit up again and immediately searches for you. Of course, rationally, he knows you wouldn't disappear in the split second he takes to change.

Yet, he worries anyway. The vulnerability scares him, but he loves you. What else he can do for the one he loves except baring the gentlest part of his soul? Even if it might hurt.

You sit there, still, much to his relief. Your gaze on him is apprehensive but you didn't leave and it's enough for him to feel hope. "Let's say I believe you," you say, "I'm not saying I do, but, even if I believe you... where does this leave us? Like, obviously, this is your secret, I'm not going to tell anyone but if you are him and he is you, does that mean I'm dating the both of you? How do we act now?"

"I mean," yeah, he hasn't thought that far, "I think it'd be prudent that we continue to stay like normal, but I do understand if you feel weird about this and want some distance. Even if we aren't going to be with each other anymore, you're a good friend of mine and I don't want to lose that."

Slowly, you nod. He knows not of what is going on in your mind, but you've heard the truth from him and had yet to kick up a fuss. It's better than the worst scenario he has drawn up in his mind, he doesn't know what to expect from there on.

"...I think I need to sleep on this," you get up on your feet, and a sigh slips past your lips, "I don't know what to think of yet but... I've never known you for bad intentions, Daniel. Let's hope I haven't perceived you wrong."

"I understand," he says, "let... let me walk you home, it's the least I can do."

Conflict passes your face at his offer, but in the end, you only give him a brief nod, "Okay," before unlocking the door and stepping outside.

He rushes into getting clothed afterwards. A spare t-shirt is thrown on with a pair of sweats. He looks dishevelled, but like always, this visage helps him get away with anything. Except for maybe, this new hole he has fallen in. However, he wastes no time dwelling on that and rushes outside. The fear of you leaving without him keeps creeping up at the back of his mind, but it vanishes when he sees you standing at his front door, your face is illuminated by the screen of your phone.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," he apologizes, a bit sheepish.

"It's cool," you nod, "let's go."

Daniel has memorized the way from his home to yours because of his walk there every morning. Yet, while he always dashes there every other occasion, his current walk with you is torturously slow. You're distracted, he can see that, and on his side, he doesn't want to end his time with you either.

God knows it might be the last time you spend time willingly with him.

All good things come to an end. His good thing with you comes with a squeeze of his heart and an indescribable blue when he looks at you. He swallows on nothing again, wanting to reach out for you, but once again, finding that he cannot. You deserve your boundary and he gets it, but all he wants before this parting moment is to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

It's never that easy, however. "Good night, Daniel," you nod at him and he tries to not let the distance bother him.

It does anyway, he changes to ignore it instead. "Good night," his hand almost moves towards you, but he clenches his fist before he does something foolish, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"...Sure," you say, turning to look at him one last time before heading in, "see you tomorrow."

He doesn't leave immediately after your door closes. Normally, he'd blame it on his own unwillingness to be apart from you, but he knows it's more than that. All he can hope from there on is that you would one day understand.

Please.

[rectoress]

@starfrckled​ said:  “ it’s just a different map down the same road ” ( from mousesack, if you're still accepting these )  /  rp sentence starters from  bridget devoue’s  work  ,  soft thorns

               without being neither wrong nor right, the man falls short of making any substantive contribution. a prosaism, no matter how astutely placed, how shrewdly dropped, remains an empty shell into which any and all meanings, any and all intentions, any and all intellections can be crammed. Some grand and proverbial cornucopia which can, later on, be referred to and brandished to claim some sort of formidable insight into the situation. hindsight is more like it, tissaia thinks, the bitter and disappointing conclusion shoved to the back of her mind as soon as it is formed. “it makes no difference.” her tone is clipped though it never verges onto a disrespect or a disdain she doesn’t quite experience. oh she certainly does where druids are concerned but mousesack has proven to be of sage counsel to the cintran throne. he is, she has come to observe and to learn, of a measured temperament, and one all the more admirable for constantly living within the closest circle to the crown, and she’d sooner deal with him than with his recalcitrant queen. “call it whatever you wish, mousesack,” the archmage adds. her gaze slants downward, sweeps across the scrolls and the quills, the folded letters, the scattered pieces of parchments, the hour glass. they are running out of time. he knows it. “she believes cintra impregnable.” tissaia de vries abruptly looks up, her eyes sharp and piercing boring holes into his own. “but it is. no one is infallible.”

[artificial-historian]

DDN

As sung by Belacaris the Square

I profess, notorious freak

E’ery days a week

Damned damp nothings

Shall impregnate me, rightfully so

Aye, aye, aye, aye

Forsooth, thou toil in some damned damp nothings

Fetch bucket and mop for this damned damp nothing

Give me all thou hast for this damned damp nothing

Batter it, [untranslateable], strike as lightning

Giant and unshaken

Put this nothingness in thy face true

Stroke thy nose like a pussycat

Upon thee, I shall ride

I willfully contract upon it

Spit in my mouth, look me in the eyes

This nothing is brimming over, dive into it hence

Tie me up for I’m in hysterics

Let us fall into lunacy, I shall becom a dark visage of another

I want thou to corral thy stallion

in this manger so tightly fit

Churn mine butter, and I shall scream

In public square, we will be witnessed

I shan’t cook nor clean

Unto thee I will proclaim my receiving this ring (aye, aye)

Gobble me, swallow me, drip into me

Quickly disembark fore thou ejaculate

I command whereto it shall be place, and nary profess him mine whereabouts

I run down upon him fore a [untranslatable] runs to me

Speak thy curséd tongue, bite thy thumb at me, sir?

Call for a carriage whilst thou ride the stallion (while you ride the stallion)

Thou nary shall consummate with him for all

He already made his mind up 'fore he came

Now fetch thy boots and coat

For this damned damp nothing

He called for a courier just to receive drawings

Of mine aphrodite splendor

Pay my dowry just to kiss me

Upon my damned damp nothingness

Now call for rain rain wouldst thou kindly?

To behold oblivion

Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker

I ought have a absinthe and opium fiend

Not a snake, I must have a serpent

Crooked and scant it shall be

He has money, so I make for his way

Nothing is perfect, just like his debts paid

He has whiskers, lo’ I shall moisten them

I let him taste it, now his blood boils and his legs turn black

I desire not to spit, but to shallow

to gag, to choke

I yearn for thy touch, thy impish knocker

be it strung upon my tonsils and throat

Halo upon my head, freshwater clams

It goes in dry and returns dampened

I ride upon it like the constable pursues

I spit upon his quill and now he signs me, verily

Judge, I be a whore, hands cuffed and tethered

Switch my powdered wig, make him feel an adulter

Put him on his knees, make him a heretic

Nary lost in battle, yet I seek the Adversary

As animals, i be the one that devous thee

If he drank from my port, he's lowly

A grand D means grandeur demeanor

I could make thee come fore meeting thee

If it is not hanging, then he cannot be banging

Thou might not hurt mine airs, but I desire punishment

If he shall tup me and ask, "To whom be it?"

Whence I ride the tool, I shall spell my name

O’

Aye, aye, aye

Aye, thou shalt bear damned damp nothing

Fetch bucket and mop for damned damp nothing

Give me all thou hast for this damned damped nothing

Now from heaven on high, fall

It be damned damp nothing

Now fetch bucket and mop

Be it damned and damp nothing

I'm talking Dn’DN Dn’DN Dn’D and

be it some damned damp nothing

Pasta turned inside a pot

Be it some damned damp nothing

(This is a brothel)

(This is a brothel)

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Worth the wait - Charlie Coyle (NSFW)

Summary: It’s the reader’s first time. She’s nervous but Charlie makes sure she’s alright and she later realizes it was worth the wait.

Words: 948

“Lust rushes but love waits.” - Bridgett Devoue

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was freaking out more than I should have. I was crazy about him and he seemed to be crazy about me. I felt relaxed next to him every time we were together. He never gave me a reason to feel insecure or not good enough. It was the exact opposite. I felt like the best version of myself. Thanks to his compliments and thanks to him showing me off constantly to everyone. So there was no reason to be nervous.

After a couple of dates and even more make out sessions I knew that tonight was going to be the night. I spent the whole day pampering myself. From washing my hair to shaving to using lotion all over my body. To face masks and to probably a bit too much of perfume. But I ended up feeling sexier than ever before. I bought a new set of underwear. A black balconette bra made from soft tulle, decorated with flower motive made from silk and matching panties. I looked at myself in the mirror allowing myself to adore my body for once and gave myself a much-needed prep talk. It will be fine. I slipped on my favorite dress, looked at myself in the mirror for the last time and went to the living room to wait for Charlie. Stopping in the kitchen first to take a glass of wine to calm down the nerves.

”Oh my god,” Charlie said the second he saw me standing between the door. He looked at me from head to toe. ”You’re so gorgeous.”

I pulled him inside wrapping my hands around his neck and kissed him passionately. His hands slipped from my waist to my ass, grabbing it gently while his mouth traveled down to my neck. He lifted me up and I intuitively wrapped my legs over his body to feel more secure. His hands still on my ass and his lips back on mine. My fingers were running through his hair, ruining his perfectly styled hair. But he never looked sexier than he did in that moment. We moved over to the couch, my body under his. Charlie’s face buried in my chest, kissing my breast.

”Just take the dress off already Coyle!” I mumbled. Charlie looked at me with hunger in his eyes and his face lightened up when he smiled widely and happily took the dress off.

He continued kissing my breast until I finally felt his hands on my back unclipping my bra with ease. He gently took it off and threw it into the corner of the room. He took a moment to look at my breast and then at me to make sure I was okay. He gave me a gentle peck on the forehead, and he moved back to my breast. Sucking my nipples and grabbing them and squeezing them carefully. First soft moans started escaping from my mouth. Charlie’s right hand was in between my legs, softly stroking my clit before pulling my panties down completely. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head while he took his pants off.

”Are you sure you want to continue? We can stop if you want.” Charlie spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours. He knew it'd be the first time for me. I told him on our fourth date when I felt like he was starting to rush a bit. I was nervous to tell him. I even considered not telling him and act like I knew what I was doing when the time would come. Charlie kissed me on the top of my head and said he'll wait until I felt ready. Ever since that date I was preparing myself for this.

I nodded instead of saying something. I was out of breath and too worried my voice would be shaking and would give away how nervous I felt. Charlie had his hands around my body giving me more support and he pressed his lips back to mine. I felt him slowly and gently thrust into me. A little bit more every couple of seconds as he made sure I had enough time to get used to it. It was uncomfortable at first and I even felt tears building up in my eyes but with each thrust, it started to be more enjoyable. And then suddenly he was fully inside me going a bit faster. I was moaning loudly without even realizing it. Charlie looked at me from time to time to make sure I was truly doing okay. He then positioned me on the top of him and let me take the lead. He worshipped my whole body. Kissing my everywhere and his hands stroking every part of my body that he could reach.

In my mind, I was thanking myself for waiting. For not giving myself to my previous boyfriend or to any of the guys I went on date with. I never felt more sure about anything or anyone than I did about him. He was my certainty and my stability. He was the one I could trust enough to give him myself fully. Sex to me was always just a bonus in the relationship. I wanted to feel beautiful, respected, wanted and loved. I wanted the other person to understand me. I wanted honesty, joy, happiness, and mutual respect. I wanted this before having anything else. And Charlie managed to give me all these things within a couple of weeks. Without having to ask for it. And I loved him for it.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

SHIP LIST - MIRANDY

1.      Who kissed the other first?

Andy was the one who leaned over until their lips were brushing, but she let Miranda make the final decision.

2.      What was their first fight about?

Miranda said she had nothing to offer her. She’s double her age, she’s a workholic and her life is a mess, but Andy wasn’t having it.

“If you’re trying to find a excuse because you don’t want to be with me, fine, but don’t lie to me. You have nothing to offer me, Miranda? What about a family, huh? What about love?”

3.      Who sleeps in the couch more often?

Andy refuses to go to bed without Miranda. She hangs around until the woman is done with the Book, usually doing her own work or reading a book. Miranda buyed a comfortable armchair to her office after Andy fell asleep in one of the small chairs in front of her desk. Is very common for Andy to fall asleep in that armchair while waiting for her.

4.      Who drinks coffee and who drinks tea?

They both drink coffee. Miranda hates tea with all her heart, but Andy actually drink a cup after dinner every night.

5.      Who goes grocery shopping more often?

Andy. She loves to go because it can distract her mind for a while. She also loves to take the twins with her since their impressed with simple life tasks so much.

6.      Who brings breakfast in bed?

Miranda will kill her if she tells anyone, but the editor usually brings her breakfast in bed on Sundays. Andy sometimes pretends to be still asleep just to have her waking her up with soft kisses.

7.      Who sleeps first?

Andy can sleep as soon as her head hit her pillow most of the times, especially if she was already sleeping in her armchair. Miranda has insomnia, so it takes her a lot to be able to sleep, but it got better after she started sharing her bed with the brunette beauty.

8.      Who watches the other sleeping?

Miranda. She likes to trace Andrea’s body with her fingers. Her face, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her ass. Sometimes she can’t believe how lucky she is.

9.      Who met the parents in law first?

Miranda’s parents aren’t alive anymore. She met Andy’s father when Richard came to New York have lunch with his daugther, without warning her first, and found Miranda in her apartment. Andy’s mother showed up a week later, saying something about seeing this with her own eyes.

10.  Who does the laundry?

Ok, Andy always hated to do it, so when she moved in and found out Miranda’s housekeeper could deal with it, she wasn’t sad.

11.  Who washes the dishes?

They just put it in the dishwasher and the housekeeper can deal with it later if she has to.

12.  Who clean up the house?

Again, one of the perks of having a rich wife.

13.  Who washes the car?

Poor Roy.

14.  Who brings take outs?

Andy. Miranda loathe take outs, but her girls love it. She rather drink some wine while the three other occupants of the house devous their foods.

15.  Who calls the other to ask if they want something from the street?

Andy, sometimes. She knows Miranda don’t have plenty of time to speak during the day and that the woman doesn’t care about impromptu gifts, so she just grabs it if she thinks Miranda needs or wants it.

16.  Who's more likely to make plans?

They’re both planners. After a while, they decided to share a calendar so it was easier for them to keep track of each other and make arragements to meet during their busy week.

17.  Who dreams about a big wedding?

Andy never dreamed about a big wedding and Miranda already had hers, so they plan a small intimate wedding that is, at the same time, lovely and classy.

18.  Who breaks the cups?

Andy, the clumsiest person on Earth.

19.  Who holds the umbrella?

Andy does and she takes the opportunity to slid her arm around Miranda’s waist.

20.  Who takes the other to the dance floor?

Andy is sure she can’t dance, so she never tries to, unless Miranda takes her hand and leads the way.

21.  Who does the big romantic gestures?

They are not the type of big romantic gestures. They both believe that love is in the small things, like breakfast in bed or buying a book the other had mentioned.

22.  Who's more likely to serenade?

Caroline convinced Andy to do it once and she sang while the girl played the cello outside Miranda’s bedroom – she went surprisingly well, even if Miranda made her promise to never do that again.

23.  Who forgets the wet towel in bed?

Andy and Miranda hates it. She forgot how many times they had a fight over that.

24.  Who don't pick up things when they fell?

Andy’s office in the house is filled with fallen pens around the floor.

25.  Who keeps losing the keys?

None. They’re both very methodic person, they always put things at the same place.

26.  Who sings the rap part?

Andy, to make the twins laugh.

27.  Who pretends to be sad just so the other will cheer they up?

Andy pounts every once in a while when she wants Miranda to agree with something she wants, but Miranda has her drama moments.

28.  Who wakes up ready for a maraton?

After a cup of coffee? Both.

29.  Who buys them tickets for shows?

Miranda is very good at keeping track of things Andy shows interest at, so she’s always ready to pull out a ticket from her sleeves (or her assistant’s sleeves).

30.  Who chose the movie?

The twins does. They don’t have much time to sit down and enjoy a movie, so they’re happy to watch wathever they want when they had time.

31.  Who says 'I love you' more often?

Andy, of course, but Miranda does say it much more often than people imagine.

32.  Who keeps waving at people after they got engaged?

Honestly, Miranda. She makes sure to show of her ring to everyone in a mile radius.

33.  Who uses the most ridiculous nicknames for the other?

Andy calls her Mira, honey and babe, besides her full name. Miranda is more adapted to darling and love, though.

34.  Who's responsible for date nights?

They usually choose a nice restaurant to go to and then they go to a play, or movie, or whatever one of them wanted to hear.

35.  Who wakes up one day and decides to stay in bed?

Miranda, during hollidays for some reason. Andy needs to have her coffee every morning at the same time or things would just go South.