#I feel like we could learn so much from his experiences

[antianakin]

Regarding Codywan; which one of the pair do you think would be more likely to fail at self-care, forcing the other to get them into bed, insist they take a break from the planning table and so on?

Cody. 1000% Cody.

For one, Cody is simply younger than Obi-Wan and so is going to have less experience in general, but he's also led an IMMENSELY sheltered life that was full of lots of strict routines that didn't allow him to do much of anything beyond what the Kaminoans allowed him to do. And there is no indication that one of those things the clones were taught was good mental health practices. In fact, you could argue that we have evidence they were explicitly NOT taught mental health practices since I think they tell us in TCW that the clones were told they'd had regular stress somehow engineered out of them. If the Kaminoans believed that, then presumably they wouldn't have felt the need to teach the clones how to effectively HANDLE stress beyond just... pushing through it to complete the objective/mission.

Cody is an incredibly competent person who seems to be pretty steady in a crisis, for sure, but I think he's primarily steady IN SPECIFIC SITUATIONS, all of which relate to battles and war and dealing with authorities. Take him out of that situation and he's probably going to struggle a little more with understanding the parameters of what's expected of him. He'd pick that kind of thing up VERY quickly, but it seems like something all of the clones would have to learn after leaving Kamino. Basic things like how to go shopping or going out to eat, even going to a club and the expectations for the social interactions in those places is going to have a learning curve.

I also think that the clones are probably going to be fairly good at managing physical health because maintaining their ability to do their jobs in that way would likely be something the Kaminoans would have kept in mind, but managing their emotional and mental health would be something entirely new. Like I said, they have been led to believe they don't experience stress and all of its related problems, so understanding what they feel and the best ways to handle it are going to be completely beyond them.

And this is where the Jedi can come in. They're literally intergalactic therapists, this is their bread and butter. Helping the clones understand what they're feeling and how to best manage what's happening to them would likely be one of the first building blocks of trust between the two groups. But there's obviously one Jedi among potentially THOUSANDS of troopers, so they probably start by passing along advice to a few of the higher ranked troopers and hope that it trickles down through the other men. And this could easily lead to some bonding between Obi-Wan and Cody, with Obi-Wan recognizing when Cody is pushing himself too far for too long and learning his tells for when he's tired but can go a little longer vs when he's basically dead on his feet and SHOULDN'T go any longer, or when he's in a mood to listen to advice from someone about getting rest vs when he's in a mental place where that's just not going to be taken well and might actually cause Cody to push himself even harder.

I'll also point out that, despite popular fandom characterization, Obi-Wan really doesn't show any inclination to push himself beyond what he can handle in canon. In what I think is season one of TCW, there's a moment somewhere between Obi-Wan and Anakin where Obi-Wan asks ANAKIN if he's slept and can tell that Anakin hasn't, implying that Obi-Wan probably HAS slept despite the stress of the situation. And then there's Landing at Point Rain where Obi-Wan gets badly injured and proceeds to sit through the majority of the battle. He only gets up ONCE, when it seems like their defenses are about to be broken and he has absolutely no other choice but to fight, and then as soon as reinforcements arrive he immediately sits back down again and STAYS seated even through Anakin and Ahsoka arriving, their mission debrief, and being treated by a medic. Everyone else literally has to gather around him because he refuses to move from his seated position. He never tries to get up and fight when he doesn't have to nor does he seem to avoid or refuse medical aid once it's available. At the end, he keeps leaning on Anakin and Ki-Adi-Mundi as he is led to a ship that will take him away from the field so he can get MORE medical aid and doesn't seem to be refusing that, either.

Even in the context of the films, during the fight with Dooku where he gets badly injured, he stays DOWN after that and lets Anakin handle the fight instead because he knows that trying to get up and keep fighting would just be a distraction. And it isn't that he CAN'T get up, we see him stand up and limp away later, but that there would be very little point in him trying to do so. And he doesn't seem to be trying to hide his injuries after the battle's over, either, he's very obviously limping and holding his arm.

Which isn't to say that Obi-Wan couldn't occasionally choose to pull all nighters if he felt it necessary for one reason or another, or that he would NEVER push himself through pain or exhaustion in certain situations, but I don't think that the fandom characterization of him as someone who can barely take care of himself and constantly hides injuries and avoids medical attention to the point of literally causing himself further harm is consistent with how he's actually shown in canon. We don't ever get to see Cody react to being injured, but given what we know of the clones' upbringing, it just makes more sense to me that Cody would struggle with pushing himself beyond what he SHOULD and with managing his own emotions.

[artwins]

I have a twin and I'm jealous of you guys drawing together, it's so cool! Unfortunately we were compared a lot during our childhood and made to compete with each other instead of working together, so ended up choosing different paths so we could have "our own thing" and not be compared so much. It makes me especially sad that my twin is very insecure about that, and will say things like "I don't want to learn to draw, you're already so much better than me", like it's still a competition. Anyway sorry for rambling but I was curious, do you guys ever compare your art, or get insecure / competitive, thinking that one is better than the other?

An important issue for us, and we have a lot to say about it, so this will be a long one.

Yes, we were compared a lot. In everything, starting with who started talking first, who runs faster, who has better grades, etc., etc. For some reason, people see two identical people and think that it'll be so fun to play the game "spot the difference" with them. Obviously it feels like crap, to say the least. In general, being compared to someone sucks, but being compared to your actual real life clone who is essentially on the same level/has the same experience as yourself sucks 100 times worse.

Our art journey was difficult from the very beginning because one of us was a little slower at learning and his art style developed slower in general. But we both love drawing so much that we just couldn't give it up, so we worked at it and worked at it until we were both equally good at it. It was funny to see our college professors finally shut up about which of the two of us was better because they realized we had destroyed the difference.

To answer the last part of your question: yes, we have moments of envy/insecurity about our art because we can't simply stop comparing. But we learn to work through it by reminding ourselves that we shouldn't compete with each other, because (our personal opinion) it is better not to fight among ourselves, but to combine our forces against someone else lol

To you and your twin - we're sorry they feel insecure about that, but we hope you're both happy with paths you've both chosen. And thanks for reaching out, it's cool to ramble about twins stuff for a change and to see some other twins out there!

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part VIII: Time For Something New

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You give Sy your answer and take steps into the future.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. The porn part of this chapter got away from me y'all. I was as surprised as Sy. Angst, fluff, passion. Sex in committed relationship. Mirror sex, fingering, clit slap, Sir kink, Mrs. Kink, dirty talk, cream kink, size kink, raw p in v, oral sex (f receiving), praise/degredation kink, command kink, Sy in the workplace, hard hat kink, toxic construction worksite, jealous Sy… omg.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the eighth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

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“I am asking you to marry me, Buttercup.”

Sy summoned all of his military discipline for this moment. He had to stick this landing because he knew you were shaky. All of his heart and soul was tied up into this one moment.

You stared at Sy, then at the ring, then at Sy again. 

You saw that he was so sure of you and this love, and it took all that was inside you not to sob. You cleared your throat as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Deep down, I knew that everything was leading to this if I got back in with you this weekend, and that’s why I spent most of our time together trying to run from it. You terrify me, Sy.”

Big, fat tears rolled down your face as Sy’s eyes telegraphed an apology.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, but love me and try to let me know how much. But it is the scariest thing in the world when I’ve had your love ripped away and never thought I would experience it again.

You took a shaky breath as Sy listened to you. 

“I think I always knew that you still loved me though, no matter how much time had passed or how far away we were from each other.”

Sy nodded and smiled ruefully at you.

“After I left Scott, I decided that the safest bet would be to be by myself, to never be dependent on anyone else for my happiness. And I felt safe being alone. No one could disappoint me, or hurt me but me. When I decided to come back here for the reunion, I prepared my armor against you.”

Sy brought the ring down to his lap and looked down on it, his eyes suddenly wet. He tried to just let you get it out, but his heart was in a free fall. You reached out and grasped his chin, bringing his watery eyes up to yours.

“But you are my one weakness. And I can’t deny that, no matter how much I tried. I can’t let myself get in the way of this love.”

You took a deep breath as you tried not to sob.

“I have always, always loved you, Jacob Allen Syverson, and I always will.”

You nodded as the tears spilled from both of your eyes. You leaned forward to meet him halfway, both of you pressing  your lips together in a wet, salty kiss. Then you pulled back and got on your knees with him.

“It’s time for something new. Time out for playing it safe. I’m not going to give up this second chance at love. So, yeah, I will marry you Sy. If you will marry me.”

You laughed as Sy tackled you and lifted you up on the couch, bear hugging you so tight that you couldn’t breathe.

“Shit, Buttercup, you had me thinking you were going to drop me like a hot potato, but you’re stuck with me now. Forever.”

You kissed his mouth until his smile melted into yours, and you let his fingers put the ring on your hand. You admired it for a second then looked up at Sy, giving him a sweet kiss that affected your entire body as he enveloped you in his arms again. 

Sy was like a man possessed. All he wanted to do was to inhale you, to taste you, to feel you around him. He wanted to lose himself in you. His mouth was on your mouth, your neck, your forehead, every piece of exposed skin he could reach, and his hands were everywhere, pulling on his t-shirt to expose as much of you as he could.

Then, a thought entered his head and he slowed down, palms rubbing the skin of your hips slower now, more deliberate.

“Let me show you exactly how much I love you… how much you mean to me…”

Sy’s mouth rumbled against your throat. 

“Sy, you’ve already–”

He pulled back so that you could see his eyes. They were glowing with love and with need.

“Buttercup, you don’t understand. You’re going to be mine. I have to try and show you how I feel about that.”

And then he swept you up in his arms, bridal style, as you clung to him and got lost in his eyes, letting yourself be carried away on the short journey down the hall to the bedroom.

You were divested of the shirt and panties, laying back as Sy took stock of your body, his eyes and his mouth christening every inch of your body, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet. 

“Love you, love you so much Buttercup. Soon to be Mrs. Syverson…” 

It was a constant litany as he ignited the entirety of your skin. 

“Need you, Sy…”

He was still clothed and that didn’t seem fair. You reached for his pants, and he moved away from you and stood at the foot of the bed. You sat up on the edge, watching the show he was putting on for you.

“Love how you look at me Buttercup. Make me feel like I’m the man.”

Sy’s heart was pounding as he reached behind him and pulled his t-shirt off, the way you bit your lip and dragged your eyes up the length of him making him even harder than he was before.

“You are the man, Sy. You are so fine. Make me wanna touch myself to the sight of you.”

Your hand was on your knee and you started trailing it up your thigh as Sy pulled his sweatpants down, causing his unclothed cock to slap him in the abs as he stood back up. He licked his lips.

“As much as I want to watch you do that, baby, some other time. Right now, like I said. I got something to show you.”

You raised your eyebrow. 

“Oh? You gonna give me a show?”

Sy’s smile and blush sent you. 

“Maybe later, Buttercup. Right now…”

He quickly moved to sit behind you on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Sy held you between his legs in front of the giant mirror on the wall across from the foot of the massive king sized bed. The hard rock of his cock poked you in your back, but you settled against him as he spoke into your ear.

“I have so much to let you know...”

He nuzzled into your neck as his long, thick fingers slowly skipped along your collarbone, and your chest. He traced the hills of your breasts to the stiff peaks of your nipples, and into the valley between them down your stomach.

“When I built this house, it was always with you in mind. Had this mirror especially made. You need to see how beautiful you are. Always. Need to feel what I feel when I look at you, Buttercup. Watch.”

You were quaking at his words and his touch, almost overcome and your pussy weeping rivulets onto the duvet.

One of Sy’s hands went to your trembling lips, tracing them and then descended toward your throat, gently grasped your jaw and turning and tilting your head up so that you were staring straight into the mirror. His other hand dipped into the patch of dark hair between your legs and his fingertips dipped to the crease of skin where your thigh tucked into your torso next to your wet folds. 

“This bit of skin here, just here. Feels like silk. Love it. Love to run my fingers, my lips there...”

Your eyes met his as you gasped and remembered that each time Sy went down on you he would linger there, but you didn’t single it out as you were too caught up in your own pleasure. Your eyes flicked downward as Sy played with his favorite part of you and extended his fingers, brushing against the stiff clit that was peeking out and yearning for his touch. He pulled your thighs apart, eyes sparkling as you caught his glance and his lips curled into a sexy smirk.

“Look at yourself, Buttercup. So wet for me. Always. I am such a lucky, lucky man.”

You watched as Sy’s fingers circled your nub and then traveled down to dip into your wet heat. His other hand traveled a path to your stiff nipple and expertly pinched it just as you arched into his hand.

“See how beautiful?”

He reached down for your knee and brought it up so that your foot was on the bed now, having you brazenly displaying your most intimate parts and your wanton movement at his ministrations to them. You gasped as you closed your eyes and felt a sharp slap on your pussy.

“Make sure that you keep your eyes open. Don’t want to have to punish you again.”

“Oh my god...Please, Sy…”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, was it punishment, or mercy?

Sy’s cock pulsed behind you as he dipped his head and sucked a spot on your neck that made you keen. His voice was a bit gruffer as he replied to you.

“Not tonight,” His tongue soothed the hickey he’d made. “We’ve got time for that, Buttercup.”

His naughty promise made you arch in his grip, your ass meeting his balls and your breast shoved further into his hand. His voice turned back to velvet, and it seemed that you needed just a modicum of stimulation to have you hurtling over the edge.

Your palms were resting on his thick, hairy thighs as you sunk into the solid planes of his chest and abdomen, but they moved to the duvet cover as he and hooked both of your legs over his and widening his spread, splaying you open even more to the light of the bedroom.

The thought entered your head that you should have been embarrassed, but then you chased it away with the next thought that entered your head, and that you uttered.

“‘M soo wet and ready for you Sy. Only you, future husband…always ready for you, baby.”

A low groan rumbled past his lips as he stopped teasing and shoved two fingers into you, swiftly filling you up and causing your mouth to form a wide O.

“There she is. My beautiful little sexy wifey.” 

You watched as Sy finger fucked you, your cunt sloshing and swallowing his digits as they pumped in and out. Sy felt how you wrapped around his fingers and he realized that he was sliding his leaking cock against your spine. 

“Damn, so fucking wet and tight for me, baby. I’m trying to hold out, but you make it hard,” he pressed his erection into your back. “Literally.”

You felt the coil tighten in the core of you as you took his thumb in your mouth and fellated it as if it were his dick. He groaned again.

“What did you say the other day? Wanna be my what? My what kinda slut?”

“OhmygodSy!”

You couldn’t breathe.

You arched your back and tried to pull away, to run from the impending doom that watching him fuck you like this was creating, but he held you fast, making you watch him bury his now three fingers knuckle deep inside you again and again.

Sy kissed the tip of your ear as he leaned down to whisper conspiratorially to you.

“What was it again? What kind of slut you wanna be? What is it you need? What do I love to see you do? Wait a minute… let me think…”

Sy was commanding you to hold it the smoothest way possible, and when your eyes started rolling into the back of your head was when he relented.

“I remember now. Cum. Cum for me baby. I’m such a cum slut for you, too, Butterup…”

His hand squeezed your breast and pinched your nipple simultaneously as you hurtled over the cliff.

“O- Ohhhhhhhhh!”

“Thaaat’s right. Take it for me Buttercup. So fucking hot.”

You obeyed his order as the sensation washed over you and your pussy clenched around his fingers. You try to run again as Sy didn’t stop, but gradually slowed down as your pulses subsided and the wetness of your arousal increased. He held your face forward for you to watch as you slumped against him.

“Fuck… Sy…that was… shit…”

You felt him poking you in the back and you reached behind you as you craned your neck up to receive his tongue in your mouth for a sloppy kiss.

“Hmm, Buttercup. Not done with you yet.”

Sy took your hips in his hands and pulled you onto the bed, your hips presented to him, with your head still near the foot of the bed. You wiggled your ass as Sy kissed each of your cheeks and then licked a stripe up the middle of you and then dove in for more.

He destroyed your soul for a minute and then stopped, causing your eyes to snap open and meet his in the mirror. He straightened up and you tried to push back, onto his hard and leaking cock, or his thigh, anything that would give you that feeling you so desperately needed at the moment.

“I need you to watch me as I clean up this mess I made back here. Taste so fucking good. Keep your eyes open while I eat you out.”

You shivered.

“Yes, Sir.”

Sy raised his eyebrow; he felt like sinking deep into you. And so he did, stretching you out like it was the first time and causing you to bite your lip.

“Fuccckkk! Just can’t control myself no matter how hard I try, Buttercup.”

He looked down at your cunt swallowing his cock and he couldn't take it. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“So gotdamn hot and so fucking tight. Take me so well.”

You watched the look of agony/ecstasy on his face as he held your hips and drilled into you like a mad man, bearing his teeth and going all out, his feral look causing you to spasm your way into another orgasm.

He fucked you through it and then pulled out, causing you to scream in protest. Sy looked at you in the mirror and laughed, shaking his head.

“No ma’am, this is not how this is gonna go.”

Sy’s heart was pounding out of his chest despite his denial. His plan to make slow, sensuous love to you was ruined, because you were ruining him. He had to calm down. Then he saw the cream you’d left on his dick and his eyes rolled.

You practically came again as Sy grabbed his wet cock and stroked it as he looked at your upturned ass. Then he stopped and looked at you. Your mouth was open and you could tell that he was squeezing the base of himself and clenching his jaw.

“Give it to me Sy…give me your cum… please.”

He looked down at your pussy clenching on air and started jacking his cock again, a man possessed. Sy felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get back inside you right away. He shook his head, growled, slapped your ass and plunged inside you.

“Well ain’t that a daisy. Turns out…holy fuck…I can’t stop. Gonna give you this cum. Fuck fuck, holy fuck! This pussy is so good.”

You leaned down and delivered the perfect arch for him and he roared. He felt as if cum came spurting out of him like never before as he pounded you out.

“Jesus! Cum with me Buttercup!”

“Yesss. YesssssfeelssogoodddddSy!”

Sy sounded emotional as you cried for it, yelling in approval as his hot cum splashed against your shuddering walls.

You collapsed with Sy on top of you, his weight a comfort as you felt him soften and your mixed fluids leak out of you. You stayed that way for a few minutes listening to your breaths subside until Sy stirred and then tilt your head up so you could look at him in the mirror again.

He kissed your cheek then raised his eyebrow.

“Now. Like I said. Watch me as I clean up this mess I made back here.”

You gasped, scandalized.

“Sy! I have to get up for my interview–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it so you get a good night’s sleep, Buttercup.”

And all you could do was watch as he fulfilled his promise.

—-

You did sleep like a log after a few more orgasms which involved the shower, but you popped right up to get ready for your interview in the morning.

Sy was up as well, scheduled to go into work for the morning while you met with the team at ReHome, and you smiled as you brushed your teeth together in the double sink in the master bath. You also allowed yourself a minute to admire him cleaning up his beard with his clippers. 

You could get used to this.

You dressed in a form fitting pencil skirt and flowy blouse with the attached tie that conveniently hid the hickey that Sy gave you the night before. You grinned at your hair and makeup as you admired the look in the mirror. You felt like a queen.

The whistle that your fiance gave you as you entered the kitchen boosted your confidence even more.

“Holy Shit, Buttercup. You look competent as hell.”

You laughed at Sy as he handed you a cup of your favorite tea. He’d bought a half a year’s supply when you pointed it out at the store the day before.

Yeah. You made the right choice.

“Thank you Sweetie. I feel good.”

Sy raised his eyebrow at you.

“Sweetie? What has caused this sudden turn of a pet name?”

You held up your hand.

“I’m wifey, remember?”

Sy feigned forgetfulness, “Oh yeah. That.” 

He grinned as he pulled you into his arms and gave you a quick peck, releasing you so that your clothes didn’t wrinkle.

“We’ll talk about that more later. Right now, we need to get you downtown.”

30 minutes later, your heart started to pound as you walked into the ReHome building, and you turned and waved at Sy before he drove away in Betty. Then, you lifted your head and walked inside, reminding yourself that you were fucking spectacular at what you did, and that they would be lucky to get you.

—

Sy was on a construction site, a complex of sliding scale rate apartments, trying to get his drywallers in line because two young bucks decided to bring their beef from the strip club to work. He had Cole by the collar and was holding Joe back with another hand as as he tried to prevent them from fighting. 

“You two need to keep this shit off my fucking worksite and get back to work before I bang your fucking heads together, ya gotdamn neanderthals…”

Suddenly, he felt the crowd of workers' attention shift, even the two idiots he had in hand. Billy, his foreman emitted a low whistle and muttered something under his breath.

“…a look at that piece of…”

The hair on Sy’s neck raised as he turned his head to see you walking toward him with a hard hat on. It was sexy as fuck.

He watched as Mike Ackerman walked close to you. Funny, he used to like the guy, but a strange feeling of possession and something else he couldn’t name rose within him when he saw him next to you.

“….you’re choking me….”

Sy remembered himself when Cole gasped, and he released both him and Joe and then turned to threaten Billy.

“Watch what the fuck what you’re saying, William. That is if you wanna live to take another breath.”

Billy shut his mouth as Sy straightened up and walked toward your group.

—

The interview had gone swimmingly.

The first thing you did was to disclose your relationship with Sy. The director of ReHome, Mike Ackerman, and his board chair, Nancy Christiansen, didn’t flinch.

The rest of the time went so well that Ackerman barreled ahead off script (you could tell at his secretary’s flustered reaction to his requests) and asked you about salary, moving logistics and start dates, even though you hadn’t formally accepted the job yet.

When Mr. Ackerman suggested you go to a work site of a current project where Castle Builders were working, you jumped at this unexpected chance to see Sy in his element. You had an hour before Sy was scheduled to pick you up and you decided to save him a trip.

When you pulled up to the site, you deftly donned the protective head gear and did not let your heels stop you from striding confidently through the construction debris. As you rode the service elevator to the fourth floor of the structure, you heard raised voices and distinct profanity as you got closer.

Hearing Sy’s voice above the fray made you feel some kind of way. 

“Well, you’ll get to see Sy handle problems in real time, Ms. YLN.”

Mike smiled at you as Nancy shook her head and smiled, and both of them advanced toward the ruckus. You were shook.

There was Sy, in a hard hat, sleeves rolled up, veins popping, a look of pure dominance on his face and handling two grown men as if they were rag dolls. Damn he was hot. You hoped that everyone couldn’t see that your nipples were hard.

Everyone but Sy.

Someone whistled and everyone saw your group approaching and separated, while Sy whispered to a man at his side, looking none too pleased. Then, he turned to you, his countenance that of an angel.

“Look what we have here. VIPs.”

You couldn’t tell how Sy was feeling about it, but you smiled at him angelically.

“Hullo Sy,” Mike drawled familiarly, “I hear that you know Ms. YLN?”

Sy sideyed Mike, smiled at Nancy, and then gazed at you, taking you all in as if he hadn’t seen you this morning. He didn’t miss the look on your face or the way your tits sat all perked up for him in that shelf bra he saw you put on today. He wished you weren’t getting on a plane in a few hours.

“Yes, Yes I do. In fact, we go way back.”

Sy paused and looked around the space.

“And we’re about to go real far into the future.”

“Yes, I hear congratulations are in order for you both.”

Mike still had an inscrutable smirk on his face.

“Holy shit. This your girl, Cap?”

Billy had a sinking feeling that he was toast.

Sy wasn’t going to kill Billy, but he was super annoyed.

“This is YFN/YLN. Architect for ReHome and my future wife. She’s a woman. And a professional, so act like you’re one too, before I relieve you of your profession.”

Cole and Joe were whispering and laughing together, their beef forgotten at the revelation of Sy’s relationship. 

“Get back to work, you’ve all wasted enough time as it is. We better be on track when I come back this afternoon.”

Billy was all business now.

“Sure thing, Cap. Back to work.”

Sy smirked at you quickly before his face settled back into his professional persona.

“You all need a tour?”

You could be a professional. Just like Sy.

“Mike thought it would be a good idea to see the work site as part of the interview.”

Ackerman cleared his throat.

“Yes, I wanted to get Ms. YLN’s opinions on the construction…”

Sy tried not to zone out as the idea that he would so love to hear his last name at the end of yours, but he gleaned enough to get the gist of the conversation.

“Sure thing, let’s head over this way– Watch out for those nails there- we’ve done something a little different…”

Your brain short circuited as Sy’s hand touched your back to steer you away from a construction hazard, but you got back on track pretty quickly.

—-

45 minutes later, you were waving at Mike and Nancy as they drove away and headed toward a small trailer at the edge of the construction site. Sy’s ‘field office.’

You entered the small space which was mostly occupied by two desks, two file cabinets, a small refrigerator, and a coffee pot was a quarter full of coffee. You heard Sy closing and possibly locking the door as you noticed saw some drawings of the construction on one desk and you leaned over to look more closely and sighed contentedly.

“I’m so excited, Sy! That went so well. I think this job is a sure thing.”

Sy walked up close behind you and pressed the steel bar in his pants into your expensively clothed backside.

“Me too, Buttercup. And I’ll tell you what else is a sure thing.”

“Jake Syverson…”

———

Reblog if you liked it!

[rahuratna]

🛑 The free pass for Rants and Musings has reached you 🛑

If there is anything you’d like to rant or talk about, but no one’s ever asked you about it, consider this the ask you need to yap about it as much as you want! Have fun ✨

Hmm, musings. I want to expand a little on why Nanami's character speaks to me on such a personal level.

It all comes down to this idea: You are not your job.

This is a concept I've struggled with for a long time. I've always wondered why it was so damnably difficult for me to maintain a work-life balance. I am not the kind of person who can detach from work when I come home. I will think of my day, of the things I could have done better. I will fixate on small issues and blow them out of proportion in my mind, issues that nobody else has even taken that seriously.

A lot of this has to do with the need for perfection. The need for acknowledgement. The need to know that what I've done is both academically and morally right.

And this is why I feel such tenderness for characters like Nanami, and they way they're portrayed in media. I want to write the undercurrents of their lives, the little comforts they have, the stimulus that brings out their true passion, the traits that make them so human to us as readers/viewers.

Nanami severely undervalued himself, especially in a personal capacity. He states that due to the nature of his work as a salaryman, nobody will miss him if he disappears. This single statement made him a very compelling character for me.

How many of us feel this way? How many of us actually define ourselves by what we can do for others? By our relationships? By our jobs?

The fact that Nanami was never able to manifest a domain expansion speaks volumes to me. The expansion of the innate domain seems to be an ultimate expression of self identity; the stronger the sorcerer's sense of self-awareness and acceptance, the more 'refined' the domain. Mahito's manifestation of a domain expansion for the first time is evidence enough of this.

Nanami does not, through various things he's mentioned and done, have this strong sense of self, or self preservation for that matter. He measures the value of his life in terms of how much he can help others. He defines himself within the confines of his work as a salaryman, then as a sorcerer.

I like writing him as a character because I've learned, through hard experience, why it is so important to value yourself as a human being, above all else. How the thing you may perceive to be selfish is actually a healthy relationship with your own identity.

If all works of fiction can be interconnected through the people who enjoy and appreciate them, then I'd like to write little fictional accounts that breathe some extra dimensionality into these characters we know and love. I'd like to send a little whisper into the void, in my own way, letting anyone who feels the same know that it's fine to be kind to yourself. It's fine to be soft with yourself.

You are not your job. You are not defined by your value to others. You are a thinking, feeling human being and your existence does not need to be justified or measured by some arbitrary scale invented by someone else. To live is to be free. 

[torra-and-the-toons]

Gosh I'm just so impressed that even after 22 years and having stage 3 throat cancer, Rob Paulsen can still sing like no one's business. Someone please give this man a medal, he's beyond deserving.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

IGNORE ME I'M SORRY I KEEP TALKING ABT IT i'm just so not used to my cat not being around and it kinda kills me inside to not hear him walking around or meowing or sleeping at the bottom of the staircase anymore... it used to be like a nightly routine where i'd go downstairs and make myself a drink and give him some water and now i just. don't even wanna go down there anymore.

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[fromgoy2joy]

I sat next to the protest today.

I wrote fan-fiction about two gay jewish dads raising children to the play list of the chant- "No peace on stolen land!" on an American college campus. It isn't a name brand one either, nor does it have any legitimate ties to Israel. The anger is just there- it has rotten these future doctors, nurses, teachers, and members of society.

I don't even know what to call their demonstration- it was a tizzy of a Jew hatred affair. At points, there were empathetic statements about Gazans and their suffering. Then outright support of Hamas and violent resistance against all colonizers. Then this bizarre fixation on antisemitism while explaining the globalists are behind everything.

"Antisemitism doesn't exist. Not in the modern day," A professor gloated over a microphone in front of the library. "It's a weaponized concept, that's prevents us from getting actual places- ignore anyone who tells you otherwise."

"How can we be antisemitic?" A pasty white girl wearing a red Jordanian keffiyeh gloats five minutes later. "Palestinians are the actual semites."

"there is only one solution!" The crowd of over 50 students and faculty cried, over and over.

"Been there, done that," I thought, then added a reference to a mezuza in the fourth paragraph.

Two other Jewish students passed where I was parked out, hunching and trying to be as innocuous as possible. We laughed together at my predicament, where I am willingly hearing this bullshit and feeling so amused by this.

"Am I crazy? For sitting here?" I asked them. My friends shook their heads.

"We did the same last week- it's an amazing experience, isn't it?”

We all cackled hysterically again. They left to study for finals. Two minutes later, I learned from the current speaker that “Zionism” is behind everything bad in this world.

Forty-five minutes in, a boy I recognized joined me on my lonely bench. He came from a very secular Jewish family and had joined Hillel recently to learn more about his culture. His first Seder was two nights ago.

He sat next to me, heavy like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. There was just this despondent look on his face. I couldn’t describe it anyone else, but just sheer hopelessness personified.

“They hate us. I can’t believe how much they hate us.” He said in greeting.

And for the first time all day, I had no snarky response or glib. All I could do was stare out into the crowd, and sigh.

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

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

[virgobingo]

more insight on miles’ puerto rican heritage for your fics or fanart

- traditional quinceañeras (or as they are often called by puerto ricans quinceañeros) are really not that common anymore, most girls nowadays have pool parties or go on a cruise. if miles were to go to one of his cousins’ 15 birthday party, chances are it would be casual— no big poofy dress (his mom probably had one like that though)

edit: some people disagree on this. depends on how traditional your family and friend group is I guess, as well as which part of the island you’re from. on average, it seems to be a far bigger deal amongst some other latines. in my class in pr only 3 out of approx 30 girls had a big event like that. not a single one of my cousins had a traditional quince either so you could say I’m partly biased bc of my own experiences. i personally just had a big pool party

- plantains are a big part of our diet. also, pr being an island in the caribbean, coconut is in a lot of our desserts. if miles had to pick a favorite fruit I hc he’d pick either one of the two lol also please google our food, our food isn’t actually spicy so much as savory

- we “celebrate” thanksgiving like other americans. it’s about the only time we eat oven roasted turkey. for winter holidays (christmas eve/day, new years eve/day, three kings day/eve) oven roasted pork. chicken might be offered as a second option for people who don’t consume pork for whatever reason

- you’re pretty much taught how to dance as soon as you can walk. most of us have basic rhythms down. chances of miles dancing with his mom or friends at parties? astronomically high.

- the reason why our flag is everywhere, besides pride, is ‘cause it was illegal to own it. look up the gag law that prohibited us from even displaying it at our homes. so it’s actually an awesome detail in these movies

- this is my opinion/a fun fact but I feel like miles is basically an homage to black and puerto rican (specifically nuyorican) solidarity around the 70s-80s during the creation of hip-hop and rise of graffiti as a form of expression (you can easily read up on this or watch shows like the get down to learn more about this if you’re curious)

- whether you’re “nuyorican” or “from the island” spanglish is common so miles’ mixing english and spanish isn’t odd bc even rio does this as miles points out in the party scene. he isn’t a “no sabo” kid so much as someone with a strong accent. he understands his mom perfectly

- race ≠ ethnicity. there are plenty of black people in and from Puerto Rico, and miles’ pr family in the spiderverse films are designed to be for the most part afro-latine. so I wouldn’t really call him biracial

- the puerto rican day parade wouldn’t be a thing he skips, he’s gifted a special suit for it in a comic run. his puerto rican heritage is important to him!

[nothorses]

"the public education system is intently evil and all teachers are abusive because it was the worst experience ever for me personally"

guys, look, I'm legitimately sorry that happened to you. that's fucked up. it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't be allowed to happen again to you or anyone else. I'm sorry.

public school was hard for me too, at times, and I'm still suffering the consequences for the harsh grading, the arbitrary deadlines, the hours of completely useless-to-me homework. I could name a few teachers who have been pretty fucking terrible. the fact that nobody considered getting me evaluated for ADHD has had an impact on my self image and academic success that I can't erase.

and also.

I grew up in an area where education, in particular, is incredibly progressive-leaning. educators are working really hard to create and try out education philosophies and practices that prioritize kids and their learning, rather than teachers and what they think kids should learn.

My sex ed was comprehensive, and came entirely from school. My gay sixth grade teacher taught me about HIV/AIDs in a useful, accurate way. In high school, I learned about the way orgasms work & I was prepared not to feel shame for normal stuff.

I learned that Communism was not what the USSR actually practiced, and what it really means. I learned about atrocities and, specifically, the genocide of indigenous people committed in/by the US. I learned about the military industrial complex, the school-to-prison pipeline, and I learned about manifestations of racism specific to my local area. I learned about Stonewall, and the intersection of the civil rights movement with gay rights and disability justice.

My creative writing teacher taught us about LSD, and the real reasons we shouldn't do it, after a hilariously ineffective assembly run by some local cops. He spoke gently, carefully, and emphatically about his friends and his own experiences. Later in the semester, he read us a story he wrote about two gay men finding each other in a deeply homophobic environment.

My sci-fi teacher made me feel safe & seen as a kid with "weird" interests. My US History teacher helped me research and put together a 10-page paper on the modern relevance and mission of Feminism. My government teacher made me feel appreciated for the work I put into the class, and the thought I put into what I said in it, even though he disagreed with a lot of it. My sixth grade teacher bought me books to read with his personal money, whichever ones I asked for. My third grade teacher made me feel safe. My science teacher in middle school made me excited for and passionate about science, and saw and nurtured the effort I put into her class.

A lot of stuff sucks, absolutely. But I am seeing new teaching methods being tried out all the time, and I am watching teachers get really excited when I teach their students about the roots of modern graffiti in US black history & to question property laws, and just...

There's hope. there are so many people doing so much work to make things better. so many people agree with you on what education should be, and are trying so fucking hard to put that into action, and so many public schools- not just teachers, but whole schools and even districts- are really doing that work. so much is getting better.

I had more to say, about necessary childcare and trusted adults and outside contacts and time away from abusive family. But like. Please just sit down and listen to more people on this, and please talk to educators and education professionals about what's really going on in this big huge world of philosophy, science, and practice.

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you. 

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[spirits-having-flown]

“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc

“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox

“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston

“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer

“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow

friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️

[mosovi-vian]

And I will stay alive for my future self, so they can one day learn to be kind to who I was as a child. And I will teach them to honor who we used to be, so they can remember the comfort of what once was our untempered flesh and gentle soul. Me and myself are each a fresh wound and a rough scab, bearing respectively the gift of green faith and honed will.

This has been in my draft for a while because I was determined to post this only after I knew what I should write underneath it. I’ve read a lot on the concept of healing the wounded inner child since even before my c-ptsd diagnosis. However, I’ve sought as much comfort in my little self as they had in me. Looking back, I was an impressively emotionally-intuitive kid. I remember well how I used to think, the things I would write to my future self; they were wiser and gentler than I could ever hope to be as an adult. Needless to say, the little poem above is inspired by the aforementioned experience. Sure, big me is armed with a more developed pre-frontal cortex and access to invaluable resources (coping mechanisms, therapy, on and offline communities) , but I struggle to rediscover/reinvent my identity. Little me was the biggest vestige of my lost personhood. So yeah, this might be just a huge self-indulgent projection with my favorite character, but thinking that post-S3 Hunter would also be in my shoes is not completely baseless. 16yrs old Hunter is the fresh wound (a lot of things happened before his teen years, but I’m going to interpret the events of Hollow Mind - which happened when Hunter was 16 - as the ultimate boiling point in his trauma timeline, hence the ‘fresh wound') and 20yrs old Hunter is the rough scab. Each version of Hunter could be dealing with a different set of trauma-induced symptoms. I think his loyalty to Belos kept him going as a child. Being doubtless was important to Hunter back then; it held his sense of self together. And maybe when he survived and was rewarded the time and space to grow into his own person and live for himself, there was this lasting emptiness. I feel this sort of emptiness even today. My only reference of what ‘wholeness’ felt like was when I was obedient to my family. I equated self-abandonment as the righteous norm. The symptoms I deal with today are definitely different from when I was Hunter’s age pre-time-skip. Now that Hunter is in a safe space and an adult post-time skip, he might also need to seek that strength from his younger self. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and the parts of him that he'd like to keep from his past. The parts that he knows in his bones are purely his - not instilled by Belos, not inherited from Caleb.