#absolutely nothing else will happen next…

[pit-and-the-pen]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Pt 2 to unrequited love)

A/n: HERE IT IS BESTIES!!! The official Pt 2 to unrequited love! I know the poll is still live but I’m impatient. So to make sure I’m still taking everyone’s votes into account there will be an alternate ending that should be posted right after this.

Read the Alt ending here, it's pretty similar in places

Read Pt 3 here

I'm still absolutely blown away by how well-received the first part was. This is going to be an ongoing series, all could be read individually but the "background" will be these two fics.

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, reader suffers from depressed thoughts

WC: ~3.4k

divder by @cafekitsune

The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 

“I’m going back home.” 

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.

“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 

“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 

“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 

“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 

“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 

I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 

Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 

It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly.  He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 

Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 

“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 

“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 

“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.

“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”

My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.

“I need you to break a mating bond”

His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 

“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 

“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 

“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 

“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 

I sat on the decision for a month. A month of volleying back and forth. Weighting the pros and cons of my choice. I had started doing my own research through the tomes in the library I had access to. My eyes widened as I finally found the information I needed. 

Picking up the book I all but sprinted to Helion’s office. I didn't bother knocking as I pushed past the door. Helion looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow at me. 

Panting, I showed him the page in the book. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” I promised him. He still looked skeptical but walked around to where I stood anyway. 

“I can’t say this is going to be pleasant.” He said wearily as I laid down on the couch in his study. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing this. I’ve seen rejection but this is cutting off the magic at the source.”

I looked into the males eyes, eyes I had known my whole life.

“Please. Nothing can hurt more than this already does.” Sympathy washed over his face and he leaned over me, placing a hand to each of my temples. It felt like the worst headache I had ever had in my life. My head was being split open and I heard the whimper leave my mouth. The pressure of his hands lifted slightly and I fought to get out the words. “I’m okay. Keep going.” I couldn’t open my eyes to see his face but his hands didn’t move. The pounding broke to a burning heat. I could feel the moment it snapped, I could almost picture the scissors snipping that tight string that connected us. One last fleeting rush of pure pain pushed through the bond. And then it was gone. My head was still pounding, I opened my eyes and saw Helion panted above me. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, helping me into a sitting position. 

“Like I have one hell of a hangover.” I pressed a hand to the bridge of my nose. Like I could squeeze out the uncomfortable feeling. “But also lighter.” My free hand going to my chest. It would take some time to adjust to this new feeling. But I could not stop the smile that spread over my face. Before Helion could say anything else, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I said into his neck. He gave a tight laugh and hugged me back. 

“You should go sleep this off. Please tell me if any of the pain gets worse.” He held my face between his hands and I nodded as much as I could. I all but floated back to my room. 

I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 

I smiled as the pang in my chest at the thought of Azriel held no pain. It had taken me some time to get used to the emptiness in my chest, I had grown so used to the hollow feeling of the unreturned bond but this emptiness wasn’t pain but instead it was like a weight had been taken off my chest. 

Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 

The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as I smoothed out the light fabric. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 

My reflection looked like a stranger. My hair was pinned to one side, sweeping down over my shoulder and my back. A golden tiara was woven into loose curls. Long golden chandelier earrings studded with diamonds almost touched my shoulders. The sun had created a sultry blush on the high points of my cheeks. I looked happier than I had in years. I sensed Helion's presence in my room and caught his eyes in the floor length mirror. 

He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 

“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 

“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 

The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 

I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 

“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 

His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 

“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. 

“Well good thing he’s not my mate anymore.” I whispered back to him, voice breathy. He responded with a kiss to my neck. All of a sudden I felt his warmth disappear. Before I could even process what had happened, I was standing half ways across the room. Eris just smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Stand down, you overgrown bat.” The High Lord said and that’s when I heard the growl from my side, caught a glimpse of wings and sapphire blue. Before another word could leave my mouth, I was being pulled out of the ballroom and outside to the balcony. 

I thrashed against Azriel’s grip on my arm. His hand wrapped around my wrist tight enough to bruise. 

“What the hel was that?” He yelled at me, finally letting go of my wrist.

“You had no right!” I screeched at him. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 

“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 

“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “Would hearing that I looked for you in every female I came across help us here?.” 

“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 

“No. Gods this is coming out all wrong.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair. I clocked the shake in them “Why did you break the bond?”

I laughed at his audacity. “Why? You have the nerve to ask me why?” My voice dripped venom, “I did it because I couldn’t stand being tied to you like that. That night..” I started, he interrupted me.

“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 

“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 

His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 

I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. What is done was done. 

“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 

“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone. Until I felt that bond being snatched away from me” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. 

“I had dreamed for so long how it would feel when I finally heard you say those words, And do you know what I feel?” His eyes glimmered with hope as I took a step away from him, out of his grasp. “Nothing. I feel nothing for you. Not anger, not contempt.” Tears slipped out of his eyes at my harsh words. “Of course I remember what it felt like before. Maybe some part of me will always love you in my own way but I’m not tied to you anymore and I have never been so thankful for something in my entire life.” He flinched like I had hit him.

“Do you really mean that?” His voice was so small it almost made me feel bad for him. Almost.

“I do.” I sucked in a heavy breath. “Look, we’ll most likely still have to see each other so I don’t want to end on a bad note. You were still one of my best friends for over a century and this doesn’t undo all of that but this,” I gesture between the two of us, “Will never be anything else but that, a friendship.” He gave me a sad smile. 

“I’ll take whatever you are willing to give me.” I turned to walk away and he reached for my arm, I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before I walked back to the ball that was in full swing. 

I weaved in between bodies easily. Finding Eris with ease. Despite being in the middle of a conversation, he stepped away the moment he sensed my presence. Not sparing a glance to the fae surrounding him. 

“That’s all settled then?” He asked, giving me a once over. I nodded and took his hand again.

“I believe we were in the middle of a dance?” I pulled him against me, not realizing how much I missed the feeling of his heat against my skin. I placed my head on his chest. We didn’t so much as dance, more so swayed in place. Arms wrapped around each other. He tapped my chin with a gentle finger and I let him guide my mouth up to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, like holding your hands in front of a warm fire after a day in the cold. When I tried to deepen it, he laughed against my lips. I let out a shameless whine as he disconnected our lips. As I looked into his eyes, I felt the stirring of something familiar and for the first time, welcomed it as that hole in my chest was filled again.

Tagging people that seemed excited about pt. 2

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @yearninglustfully @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

How do you think the boys were when MC didn't come back for a day? I imagine Kaito starting a riot and probably crying. Maybe even failing to sneak out lol (I love him 😭)

Oh GOD! the CHAOS! I'm gonna do this more as a group headcanon for both houses. Thank you for sending in a request!

It was around lunch time when the message that MC went MIA on a mission. These are the headcanons of the brave souls that survived that day.

FROSTHEIM

Jin was already pissed that he lost his newest gopher (affectionate) to do stuff for him. But the second that message dropped. He had to do a double and even a triple take to make sure he read that right. As soon as he's sure he IMMEDIATELY get Tohma to check the tracker on the cruiser he lent out to them (he's rich. He absolutely has a tracker put on his shit)

Kaito is screaming, crying, throwing up (okay maybe not that last one). He's READY to go dive into the water to save MC. He is LOSING IT scoob!

Some would think that our boy Luca would try to keep Kaito calm....in actuality he's almost just as bad. He just manages to keep it on the inside. He's trying to do it through the proper channels (ie Professor Dante) but when that doesn't work or will take too long for their liking, he's coming up with an escape plan right alongside Kaito.

We gave to remember that Luca has already lost one of his loved ones. He's sure as HELL not losing another one without a fight!

Tohma is STRESSED! Not because MC is missing though. He's concerned sure, but he's sure they'll come back soon, missions are typically dangerous after all. He doesn't have much faith in the academy itself. Its more of a logical way of thinking. Its one day, he's sure they're fine.

Where his stress is coming from is the other Frostheim ghouls. He's basically that meme of someone with kids on leashes each going in different directions. Someone HELP this man's before he goes gray!

VAGASTROM

Alan had to hear from someone else. He was shocked to hear that MC had gone missing. It was even worse since the last time he saw them they weren't sure if their ability worked or how it worked. He went to go ask some of the professors to see what happened but got what was essentially nothing.

Sho was worried but he didn't show it. He tried to play it off like he was too focused on his food truck to worry about the honor student. He did however ask his brother about them when he saw him next. His brother mercilessly teased him about possibly liking MC and Sho instantly regretted asking. Every now and then he considered trying to call MC to see if they would answer.

He decided against it and focused more on his truck to keep his mind off of things.

Leo doesn't care. At this point he still wants to take MC down. So while its not the way he wanted to do it, it meant no more annoying NPC tagging along on missions with them. So to him, it was a win. The only annoying part was Alan and Sho worrying about them. He didn't get it and just laughed at the gossip on WickChat about the meltdown at Frostheim.

[saylor-twift]

hello i’m back from the dead, here’s a little something of reader being delusional in honor of tortured poets department. how could i not, i’m literally saylor twift.

Down Bad▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 4:20

word count: 1859

“Playing it cool” is quite possibly one of the stupidest pieces of advice anyone could ever give. It’s practically human nature for people to do the exact opposite of what they’re told, no matter how much they don’t want to. It’s much more appealing to adhere to the phrase, “If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself”, and as someone as independent and stubborn as you were, it was all too easy to tune out what anyone else had to say about your situation. Were you making any progress? Of course not. But for the time being, you were perfectly content to simply admire your muse from a view. (Not really, it was difficult as hell. But that’s really all he’d allow from you.)

There was one question though that plagued your mind: why then, if you’d been able to manage conversations with him just fine in the past like any two friends would, was it so difficult to even walk past him now that your true feelings had been realized? Shouldn’t you have some sort of advantage, having known him for so long? And to make matters worse, recently it had been feeling like the two of you were complete strangers. It truly felt as if he was avoiding you like the plague- it was a miracle if you were able to even spot him from a distance strolling down Treasures Street. If you happened to make eye contact, it would make your face burn and your stomach tingle with butterflies to an almost embarrassing extent. You kept telling yourself that next time you saw him, you’d talk to him. The plan was that if you could slowly bring yourself closer and closer to him, you’d be able to experience the slow burn romance of your dreams!

Unfortunately though, as well as unsurprisingly, every time there was a ‘next time’, you felt yourself too afraid to make any sort of attempt at conversation. You had begun to worry that you’d possibly done something wrong, because he was giving you the impression that he wanted nothing to do with you. Quickened steps when he saw you approaching, or a nasty habit of breaking eye contact the second it was created were just a few of the new behaviors you’d noticed. Is it possible, then, that he’d caught on to your feelings, and is avoiding a confession at all costs? No, that can’t be it. You hadn’t done anything that would warrant any sort of suspicion from him. (Outwardly, at least. Your daydreams reminiscent of those of a crush-stricken middle schooler would say otherwise.) In any case, it was getting harder and harder to stay optimistic when with every passing day the two of you grew more distant.

One day, you keep telling yourself, you’d have the courage to make a move on the cold, sarcastic, and unapproachable young man. After all, you were convinced the two of you were destined to be together. It was just a matter of time before it happened, right?

Until suddenly you were struck painfully in the face with a harsh reality check. You watch him exit the large wooden doors of the Akedimiya, as he usually does at this time of day. You’d decided to wait for him, in hopes you’d be able to gather your courage and greet him. And then maybe, he’d continue the conversation, just like old times. You stood outside, meanwhile leaning up against one of the large stone pillars and nervously anticipating his arrival. He’s uncharacteristically late today. Usually, he’s the type to remain in his classes for absolutely no longer than what is necessary. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve somehow got the time wrong, or maybe his schedule. Today was Friday, right? You were certain his lectures ended at exactly this time every Friday. (You absolutely did not have his entire class schedule memorized, what kind of an obsessed weirdo would do that?) After an agonizing amount of time later, awaiting his arrival with bated breath and nearly on the verge of chickening out and returning home where your nerves wouldn’t be attacking you every waking moment, the wooden doors swing open. And lo and behold, there he is: your beloved Hat Guy. Only… he’s not alone?

Walking side by side, the Wanderer strolls out into the sunshine next to a lovely looking brown haired girl, also adorning the typical Akedimiya attire. She yaps on about something to him, all the while with a large grin on her face. One that you cannot deny is a beautiful smile. But the strangest part is, he doesn’t seem to be ticked off by her presence in the slightest. If anything, you swore you could see the slightest hint of a smile tug at his lips. (However, if you could read his mind, you’d find that he was actually imagining what it would be like if he could make her explode solely using the powers of his mind. That’s how bugged he was. But alas, your delusions always seem to get the best of you.)

Why on Teyvat was this random girl from the Akedimiya able to hold casual conversation with him, of all people? Seriously, her and not you? You’re the one who knows everything about him, you’re the one who’s seen him at his worst, the one who knows his past, and everything he’s become because of it. All of this and yet, you still can’t bring yourself to just fucking talk to him anymore.

You’re so in love with him it physically hurts. The feeling wraps itself around your very heart, beating frantically, with searing hot metal wires and won’t let it breathe for even a second. What’s the reason? You’re not even sure. He’s an asshole. He’s a loner. He’s a Harbinger. You pause, realizing the path your thoughts have taken. Was a Harbinger, actually.

Oh yeah.

That’s why you love him.

Because he’s changed. Despite his pain and sorrows, despite all of the betrayals and all of those people he’s hurt in turn, that’s not who he is anymore. It’s not who he wants to be. You can see it in the way he smiles when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching. And not the sadistic little smirk he usually shows, no, but a genuine smile that rests upon his lips as he watches the children laugh and chase after each other along the streets during midday. And oh, how you wish he’d smile at you like that! But here you are, witnessing him as he gives that very same smile to the beautiful brunette Akademiya girl at his side. (He absolutely was not smiling.)

But you suppose it does make a bit of sense, doesn’t it? He couldn’t possibly have any interest in you, you who’s certain to hate him for everything he’s done. You, who’s seen what he was like at his utmost vulnerable. He couldn’t love someone who could use that to their advantage. He wants a fresh start, doesn’t he? And wouldn’t that include meeting brand new people who only know him for the self he presents for them, and not the bloodthirsty, heart-stricken puppet of the past? What if, what if it truly wasn’t meant to be? What if despite all the love you harbored, even if it was so much it was spilling out the cracks of your very soul, he wouldn’t be able to notice? What if his own heart was breaking out of its protective shell and reaching out to someone new? What if that someone new was the girl currently at his side right now? (Oh boy, calm down, will you? You’re getting ahead of yourself here. You don’t even have any idea what they’re talking about.)

Watching them walk together, you just can’t bring yourself to walk up to him anymore. All of that previously collected, albeit false confidence, vanished in an instant. And so, with a confused, dazed, and lovesick heart, you turn around and walk away in the opposite direction. You were so certain he could be the one. What if you truly couldn’t have him? You supposed, for a moment, it would be the same thing as death. There wouldn’t be much of a difference, would there?. That’s where you catch yourself. A bit much, isn’t it? Not death, you reason, but definitely something very painful. What happened to the composure you usually held? All down the drain now, it seems. Your eyes well up in tears, even though a part of you knows you shouldn’t be reacting this way. The sun blazes against your shoulders, almost mockingly, against your delusional, lovesick, and oh so very down bad self, as you make your way down the paved steps from the Akademiya.

——————————————————————

“A partner project? You can’t be serious. Please, remind me, how would putting me in this situation be beneficial to either of us?” Asks a very vexed Wanderer, standing before the god of wisdom herself in the middle of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, only a few hours prior.

“I hardly see you interacting with other people. Aside from me, of course! I truly believe that expanding your horizons to new relationships could help you to open your mind! Don’t tell me you really have no interest in making friends?” Nahida chirps, hopping down from her platform. A swing made from vines of dendro energy, dissipates into the air at her absence.

“I fail to see how writing an argumentative essay alongside another person is a friendship-making strategy.” He retorts back, crossing his arms.

“How can you know if you never try? I’m not saying you have to be lifelong friends with your partner, but you should get to know your peers. Nearly the entirety of the Akademiya is dying to get to know you!”

“Just because I’ve acquired a group of crazed fans does not mean I have to entertain them. And especially not because you think I need friends.” That last word lingers on his tongue. Friends. Speaking of, didn’t you once say you considered him a friend? Despite his words, the thought doesn’t make him as sick as he thought it would. Not really sick at all, actually.

“Won’t you try it, just once? If not for you, then for me?” She pleads. How odd to have a god ask you for something, he thinks. Although, considering his relationship to Nahida, it’s really not all that strange.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.” She replies, giggling proudly.

And so, with a huff and a sigh of indignation, Wanderer agrees with much trepidation to go along with Nahida’s odd little plan of a partner project. So long as he gets it over with quickly, it can’t be too bad. And maybe if he finishes in time, he’ll be able to see you again. It has been quite some time. And although he tells himself he doesn’t really want to see you, he’s beginning to realize that statement probably isn’t true.

Just a little bit.

Definitely not.

You’ll figure it out one day, just wait and see.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Accidentally In Enemies : Part 3 (S.CB)

Word Count : 2.7k

Warnings : swearing, breakup, food, heartache, angst

A/N : Just the epilogue left now! I'm sorry it took so long to get this part out but I ended up hitting major writer's block with this part. Hopefully the epilogue won't take long to get out so I can start posting the next series soon after the poll is finished!

            It felt like the beginning again. The first day that San broke up with her. She woke up the morning after the dinner, everything processed in her brain, and she didn’t want to get up. Wanted to waste away in bed. Re-reading texts between them, wondering when things went wrong. Scrolling through pictures she had yet to delete, wishing for those days to come back. When they looked so happy together, so in love.

            But Changbin refused to let her waste away in bed. Showing up at her house every single day. He didn’t let her sit with her thoughts for too long, always having something to say. Makes sure she takes care of herself. Helping her realize that this wasn’t the end of her love life, just the end of this chapter.

            She had gotten used to having him around. Expecting him to be knocking at the door at the same time each day. She would find herself pulling herself out of bed to get ready for his arrival. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing her makeup. Why am I trying to impress Changbin? She would find herself thinking. But his knock would pull her from her thoughts, and she wouldn’t think about it until the next day. A cycle. A routine. It’s been so long since she had a routine like this.

            A routine that didn’t seem boring. A routine that had her excited for each day. Changbin helped her find excitement and happiness in each day. Just by being around. She went from absolutely hating him to craving his time and attention. Waiting for classes to be over so she could see him again.

            Until it all seemed to crumble around her.

            The day started the same as it always did. With her getting ready, wondering again why she was trying to impress Changbin. And then he knocked on the door, pulling her from her wandering mind. But when she opened the door, her smile fell, and she was met with Choi San. She went to close the door, but he stopped her, slamming his hand on it, and pushing it back open. “I just want to talk.”

            “Everything has been said and done, San. Let’s face it. Our relationship was over long before the breakup. I realized that recently. I’m over it.” She goes to close the door again, but he stopped her again.

            “You said your piece, can I please say mine?” She stood there, staring at him, tracing his features with her eyes. She could see the bags under his eyes, wondering if he was losing sleep over what happened at the dinner weeks ago. But the obviously fresh hickey proved to her that he really didn’t care about her. He’s here for him.

            “Talk.” San is persistent, she knows that. If she doesn’t hear him out now, he’ll come back again. And again. It used to be one of her favourite things about him. He’d go to her after every fight. If she wasn’t ready to talk, he’d sit with her until she was, letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere. But right now? She hates it. Wishes he could let things be said and done, focus on his new relationship, allow her to focus on herself.

            “Can I come in?” She shook her head.

            “You can talk out here.” He nodded, running his fingers through his hair.

            “I didn’t flirt with Gahyeon or anyone else while we were together, I promise you that. We started texting, but nothing romantic until I officially ended things with you.” He paused to assess the look on Y/n’s face. Try to gauge what she’s thinking, but her face was blank. Her eyes held no emotion. All she did was nod, and turn to shut the door again, but he started talking again. “Please say you believe me.”

            “Let’s say that I do. Where does that leave us? We’re still broken up. You still had someone else in line for when we broke up. Nothing changes. So what was the point of you coming all the way over here to tell me this?” Silence fell over them for a minute while San tried to think of something. “Good talk.” She goes to close the door for a fourth time, but this time stops herself to say one more thing. “Maybe you should make a note in your phone of her favourites. So you don’t forget.” Before San could say anything else, she closes the door.

            He goes to knock again but is stopped by Changbin. “I think it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to talk to you.” San looks at the door and then back at Changbin, noticing the bags of food he had in his hands. He realizes now that she was expecting Changbin when she first opened the door, smile wide, makeup freshly done. It reminds him of when they first started dating, when he would show up at her house with food and gifts. How she would open the door with the same smile, the same starry look in her eyes. It’s clear to him now that she’s completely moved on, and for some reason, he hates the feeling settling in his chest.

~

            It didn’t hit her until she was gathering her belongings together after class, humming a song to herself that Changbin likes to sing to her, that she was growing attached. She was falling for him. She didn’t think of San anymore. Or the hurt he gave her. She didn’t think of the breakup in the coffee shop with San handing her a drink she barely drank. Or the dinner where San pointed out food she would hate. She didn’t even think of the fact that her relationship with San was over long before either of them walked away. That he had another girl lined up for when he left her.

            She thought of Changbin coming in, sliding her favourite drink across the table like he was the one she was supposed to be meeting up with the whole time. How he knew immediately which meal at the restaurant she would like, knowing the one San pointed out was one she wouldn’t eat. She thought of the way Changbin didn’t let her dwell in the heartbreak. He mended her heart before she could even realize it was broken.

            The realization stopped her in her tracks, steps away from her desk, her bag falling to the floor. She was in love with Changbin. How could she be in love with Changbin? She spent years hating him, wanting nothing to do with him. Now all she wants to do is spend the day with him. Everyday.

            “Are you okay?” Changbin came rushing in, picking her bag up off the ground, looking over her to see if she was injured anywhere. “Are you sick?” When he placed his hand on her forehead, she met his eyes. They were filled with worry and concern. And they were only focused on her. Even with other students around them, he only looked at her. “Let’s get you home and I’ll make you some soup.”

            He slung her bag over his shoulder with no hesitation, wrapping her in his arms, leading her out of the building and to his car. People stared. They whispered. But Changbin didn’t care. He still only looked at her. She stopped walking and reached for her bag, but Changbin pulled back. “You don’t have to do this anymore. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen San. We can end this and go back to the way things used to be.” She held out her hand for her bag, but Changbin softly hit it away.

            “What if I don’t want to? What if I want to continue to be by your side? Did you ever think of that?” She stared at him, unsure of what to say. It never crossed her mind that Changbin wanted to be with her. Despite that being the most plausible reason for him continuing to show up everywhere. She always saw him as someone to hate, someone that hates her just as much. “Let me just take you home. Please.” He sounded desperate. As if he was seconds away from getting on his knees. So she gave in.

            The drive was silent. Unlike the drives in the past, which were usually filled with music, Changbin singing along, looking over at her, and serenading her with every cheesy love song. She would laugh, playfully smack his arm, and tell him he was a dork. But it never stopped him. Not that she wanted him to stop. And now that he’s not, she wishes for nothing more than just to be serenaded one last time.

            “Don’t come around anymore.” She said softly as she got out of his car. “Thanks for all your help.” He nodded and she shut the door. He waited until she was inside to drive away, trying to pretend like his heart wasn’t hurting and his eyes weren’t stinging from holding back tears.

~

            She tried to keep to routine the following days, but without Changbin knocking at her door making her excited for the days to come, the routine seemed to fall apart. It felt like she was back at square one. Pulling herself out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom. She tamed her hair that was knotted all over from tossing and turning, brushed her teeth, and washed her face.

            Her eyes scanned over her makeup when she sat at the desk in her room, glancing up into the mirror. And then she stood up, got dressed, and left her room. “Eat something before you go.” Her roommate called after her. When she turned around, she saw dishes scattered on the table. “Did you and Changbin break up?” Her roommate asked as they sat at the table to eat. “I got used to having him around everyday.” She giggled.

            “Me too.” Y/n mumbled then caught herself. “We weren’t dating!” Her roommate looked at her like she didn’t believe her.

            “Oh please. So he was just coming over everyday with food just because?” Y/n nodded. “Picking you up after class? Taking you out all the time? Late night drives? All just because?” She nodded again, slowly this time, taking in the words. “And look at you now. You look like you’re going through a break up.”

            Y/n looked down at her outfit. It was warm outside so she wore a t-shirt with a pair of shorts. It was comfortable. She thought it was cute. But if Changbin were here to pick her up, she’s sure she would have gone for a skirt instead. Or maybe a little sundress. She would have done her hair better. A touch of makeup. “I’m going to class.”

            “Just admit you guys broke up!” Her roommate calls after her and she slams the door, blinking back tears as she hops on her bicycle. It’s been a while, used to Changbin driving her everywhere. But she took a deep breath, put her ear buds in, and took another second to blink back more tears, and then headed for class.

            She didn’t even notice the all too familiar car sitting across the street. Changbin sitting inside, watching her to make sure she was okay. He wonders if she ate the food he left on the steps for her. Wonders if she wished he knocked on the door. If she misses the mornings they shared the way he did.

~

            When all her classes were done, she packed up slower than usual, nothing to look forward to anymore. Changbin wasn’t waiting for her outside the classroom door with his heart stopping smile. He wasn’t going to take her bag and wrap an arm around her, talking a mile a minute about his day, asking about hers, as he led her to his car. They wouldn’t drive around until they found something to do, somewhere to eat.

            Instead she walks alone to her bike, head down, ignoring all the chatter around her. She’s come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe her and Changbin took the fake dating thing a little too seriously. Got a little too close. Became a little too attached. “Y/n.” Her head snaps up at the familiar voice, seeing someone standing by her bike with a nervous smile.

            “What are you doing here?” She grumbled as she unlocked her bike, getting ready to go home. And then she stood up, holding her bike by the handlebars, staring at the man that nervously scratched the back of his neck. “If you don’t have anything to say, goodbye.”

            “Y/n wait, please.” She really thought she’d never see him again. Hoped she’d never see him again. “You and Changbin. Is it true you broke up?” She used to find his nervous habits cute. The way he’d kick his feet, scratch at his neck, barely make eye contact. But not anymore.

            “That’s not any of your business, San.” She answered.

            “Do you want to know why I actually broke up with you?” He asked before she could leave. The question had her stopping in her tracks. She thought she knew. He didn’t love her anymore. He forget everything about her, started to learn about someone new. “You’re right that our relationship was over long before either of us walked away, but do you know why?”

            “Because you fell out of love with me.” She answered, turning around to face him. He shook his head.

            “Because I knew you and Changbin didn’t really hate each other.” She let out a laugh. She remembers telling San all the things Changbin has done to her, said to her. All the times he made her cry. She would say his name with venom lacing her words. “It was only a matter of time before you saw what I did.”

            “What the fuck are you talking about? I despised him.”

            “I didn’t.” She whipped her head around to see Changbin standing there. “I never hated you. I’m just an idiot and a coward.”

            “I got to go.” She said, getting on her bike and leaving before either of them could say anything else. San nodded his head towards her, telling Changbin to go after her. He watched as Changbin rushed to his car, leaving as fast as he could, knowing he was right. He leaned against the bike rack, shoving his hands in his pockets, practically kicking himself for the words that came out of his mouth.

            That’s not how he wanted the talk to go. He just wanted to know if there was any hope for them to start again, but he knew by the look in her eyes when she saw him that the answer was no. It would always be no. He was too late.

~

            Changbin beat her to her house, standing in front of her steps by the time she made it home, a hopeful smile on his face. “Can we please talk?” She took in his appearance. The dark circles under his eyes, the holes in his shirt. It looked like he rolled out of bed and went to class, but why does she still find him attractive?

            “You look like a mess.” She said. He looked down at his outfit and chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, telling her he didn’t think he would be seeing her today, even though he wanted to. “Are you going to give me some cheesy speech about how you’ve always had feelings for me and that made you nervous so you said dumb things and that made me hate you?” He opened his mouth to dispute that but closed it and nodded. “Idiot.”

            “We’ve established that.” He said. She giggled and nodded. “So? Should we give us a real chance?” He looked at her with a hopeful look in his eyes, cocking his head slightly to the side as he waited for her answer.            

“Let’s go inside. We have a new episode of our show today.” She said, taking a step towards him, turning him around, and lightly pushing him up the steps, slipping her hand in his before she opened the door. He smiled at her, holding tighter so she couldn’t slip away this time.  

back to masterlist

@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @turtledove824 @moon0fthenight @dinossaurz

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 11)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 next: Part 12 | ao3

forcing myself to do a smaller chapter this time. Now if some of ya are still interested in this silly au, we’re back with Eddie!

When the haze finally departs from his mind, the first thing Eddie registers is Ronnie James Dio keening softly in his ears about dying young. Then he blinks his burning eyes open, an unfamiliar ceiling appearing from above through the static in his vision. 

He just stares at the ceiling, watching the spores float around in the air. Then he feels the rest of his body starting to wake up and demands movement. As Eddie slowly turns his head, the staticy vision fades in and out. He blinks again, this time figuring out his new surroundings.

He’s in a different house, laying back on a couch. This room doesn’t look like anywhere at the trailer’s or the Byers residence. There’s still a ton of vines sprawled on the walls and furniture. And there’s Will sitting at a small table next to him.

Eddie observes him for a moment. The kid is muttering quietly to himself, sketching something on paper. Their backpacks and spears are carefully placed next to the chair’s feet. There’s one stuffed handbag Eddie doesn’t remember carrying with them, but that’ll be saved for a later conversation.

Eddie opens his mouth, only to shut it when a headache suddenly spikes through his temple. He waits for it to pass, realizing how parched and ashy his mouth is. Against any better judgement, he tries to speak again. 

“Whatcha doing, Little Byers?” His voice sounds rough, just barely scraping itself out of his mouth.

Will stops murmuring, freezing in his chair. He slowly turns, his eyes looking too large for his head with the dark shadows underneath them. It takes another moment before Eddie registers the rest of Will’s appearance. With slightly sunken cheeks, cracked lips, and matted hair, he looks like a flu victim. If he listens closely, Eddie can hear Will’s lungs quietly rattling from every breath. 

Something twists in Eddie’s stomach. It’s close to nausea but he forces himself to just breathe even in the toxic air. But then he’s hyper aware of his own lungs, wheezing out air through his lips with the same rattling effort as Will’s. Another cough is tickling at the bottom of his throat. The goosebumps are still agitating his skin from the ever-cold temperatures.

They’ve been in this hell realm for days and only now did the state of their health just come to Eddie’s mind.  

Before Eddie curses himself further, Will flies out of his chair. His arms wrap tight around Eddie’s neck, almost choking him out. But Eddie stays conscious, hugging Will as tightly as he can. 

Will doesn’t say anything at all, which brings Eddie’s anxiety up. But Will is smiling at him with watery eyes when he pulls away without breaking their hold, “Are you okay?”

Eddie thinks about the vivid echoes of Wayne’s truck blazing out of the trailer park. How his useless wailing for his uncle had just made Eddie sink into whatever place in his brain that makes everything quiet and separated from his body like a marionette its strings cut off the limbs. He gives Will a small smile of his own, “I’m okay now.”

But then Will frowns, though not unkindly, “You weren’t.” 

“Little Byers-”

“You weren’t okay, Eddie.” Will’s lip is wobbling, biting into the skin hard enough that it starts bleeding. “You can’t just say you’re fine when you’re not. You can just tell me that you felt awful!”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. He’s both feeling angry and exhausted, the latter winning its favor. He wants to tear his throat out and let every bleeding piece show he’s feeling more than just awful. He wants to go home from this fucking nightmare and hug Wayne again. 

Walk Away’s guitar intro starts playing. Eddie tries to get the headphones off him but Will helps him with it, pausing the album. Not even Black Sabbath can scab over his new emotional pit of misery.  

Eddie doesn’t look at Will or at the ceiling or the room. Just at that black space whenever he squeezes his eyes shut. 

There’s a sniffle from Will before his weight climbs on top of Eddie. It takes a second for Eddie to catch his breath from the new pressure, but by instinct, he’s already hugging Will again.

For a while, Eddie thinks he’s really fine until Will quietly says with puffs of warm air on his bare neck, “You’re allowed to have a bad day. I promise I’m not mad at you for it.” 

If Eddie’s tightening hold and his poor attempts to choke down another sob bothers Will, he doesn’t say it. He only shuffles his position so he’s slightly curled on his side, small hands clutching onto Eddie’s.

God, Eddie doesn’t deserve this kid. 

But the last time he said something like that, it had been about Wayne and look where he is now.

Eddie dry swallows the taste of dirt-tinted salt water, starting another round of silence. Then it breaks by Will’s muffled statement, “I kinda want to punch your uncle’s knees.”  

Eddie emits a tormenting sound out of his mouth, “What?”  

Will has the audacity to shrug. “He left you. Grownups are tall so I can just punch his knees.”

Eddie stares up at the ceiling for a different reason. “Jesus H- Okay, I appreciate your willingness, but Uncle Wayne already has a knee problem. So, don’t like, hurt him.”

“Oh.” Will is quiet for another moment. Then, “I’ll hit his elbow.” 

This time, Eddie can’t hold back the laughter. It’s a wheezy sound that almost breaks his chest. But it’s the first time since he first woke up that he feels a small warmth in his chest. Could just because Will’s on top of him, trying to regenerate their body heat, but whatever. 

It’s really nice not to be alone. Even though Eddie painfully yearns for Wayne’s return.

Eventually, their giggles die down and the basement is hushed. Eddie attempts to stretch his legs out at last, but his left ankle feels weirdly sore. He tries to move it yet it stays stuck in place. With something wrapped around it.

Eddie jerks up, forcing Will off him. He immediately catches sight of one of the vines on the other end of the couch, already traveling as high as his calf.

He throws himself off, screeching as if it’ll scare the vine away. It doesn’t. His vicious kicks prompting it to squeeze tighter and tug firmly. How could’ve Eddie missed it getting him? Had it been limp on the couch until he somehow jostled it? 

Will appears at his feet, a hand outstretched to the vine. Eddie opens his mouth to yell at him to get away, remembering the last time Will tried to stab an hellish organism. But instead of a spear, Will has a Zippo lighter that he flicks open. A small flame manifests and instantly makes contact with the vine. 

It might as well have been a flamethrower because the vine makes a tiny squeeee noise and withdraws from Eddie’s ankle. He’s more quick in scooting away from the couch, taking Will with him by the collar.

They held each other with heavy breaths, staring at the vine. It’s slithering slowly on the ground but soon goes motionless. Eddie looks around the basement and at the dozens of vines on the walls, some of them barely crossing the ground. Then he remembers what Will had said about the vines being a hivemind.

Eddie takes a careful breath, gulping dry air and ashy saliva, “What say, Little Byers, exactly are we?”

Will’s probably shaking more than Eddie in his arms, but he keeps his voice strong, “M-Mike’s house. My best friend’s.” Eddie can see his hand flexing to a paler color, still holding the Zippo lighter. That he will also need to ask about later.

“Agree for a quick retract?”

Will gives a short nod and that’s all Eddie needs.

They’re quick and careful in grabbing the bags and spears, both of them eying the Eddie-Snatch Vine. It stays still but Eddie swears it twitches. There’s a few vines littering the basement stairs that Will easily jumps over. But Eddie sticks to the tiptoes, mainly because his ankle feels like it’s burning. Like something’s been imprinted onto it and he’ll roll the cuff up to find a Mind Flayer seal or whatnot.

He does his best to ignore that.

Once they’re out of the basement, the two make a run towards the front door just as it closes on the Other Side and a woman speaks.

“Nancy, just where on- oh!”

“We’re just going to be in my room, Mom.” So this is Nancy Wheeler. She sounds sullen as her voice carries up the quiet stairs, “Please leave us alone.”

“Oh, alright… But is there any reason why you’re also here, Jonathan?”

Will whirls around just at the base of the stairs. He makes a startled sound like air has been sucked into his mouth. Whatever Jonathan Byers says is too quiet for Eddie’s ears but his answer seems to satisfy Mrs. Wheeler. Their voices almost immediately fade away.

Will stares up like the stairs were the Stairway to Heaven itself. When he drags his eyes away towards Eddie, he knows exactly what they’re going to do.

This is unfair! A part of Eddie’s mind yells at him. Why did Will’s brother have to be here but not Wayne? 

Eddie mentally shuts his question down and silently answers Will’s.

As they diligently trudge up the stairs, Eddie catches Mrs. Wheeler’s muttered complaints about the lights going weird.

-

@unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @penny00dreadful @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringorinthopher @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[17yearcicada]

goodnight whatevers

[blunderpuff]

an old lady came in today, followed by a frantic and hovering younger woman

Old Lady (to my coworker): “Can you see about a book I had placed on reserve?”

Younger Woman (to OL): “Ma’am, are you sure you’re alright?”

OL (to coworker): “I think it was in last week, but I didn’t get a phone call...”

YW (to OL): “I have my insurance card in my truck, are you sure you’re okay?”

OL (to coworker): “Oh, do you have a paper towel? I’ve gotten mud on your counter... I just got hit by a car.”

Me and my coworker, who had been trying to parse this relationship: “?!?!?!?!?!!?”

The Younger Woman had side-swiped the Older Lady in the parking lot and knocked her down, and the Older Lady’s priority was literally the book she put on hold. O_O

[embervoices]

[Transcript of a conversation on Bluesky]

K.B. Spangler @kbspangler.com

One holdover that's stuck with me from Trump's term in office is how few people actually call in. My congressman's office said they were BOGGLED at how many calls they had gotten on a particular issue, so I asked how many...

They replied, "Seventeen."

jamie quinn 🏳️‍⚧️ @threnody.bsky.social KOSA is moving through the senate right now, where it has significant support. but nothing's final until it's final. if your senator's a democrat, call & email. use this script. it's timed to 1:00 and it won't take long. even with enforcement moved to the FTC, this bill is too easily weaponized.

[Embedded Text Image Transcript]

My name is _ and I'm one of your constituents. I'm calling to urge you to vote NO on KOSA - the Kids Online Safety Act. The bill's sponsors claim it will protect kids by placing a duty of care on online platforms to prevent anything that could be harmful.

The power to decide what's harmful has been ceded to the FTC. FTC leadership is made by presidential appointment. Current president Lina Khan may proceed fairly, but what happens when the next Donald Trump is in the Oval Office? What if it's Trum himself? Do you trust a Trump appointee not to abuse this enforcement power?

KOSA claims to protect kids, but it's poorly designed and, given time, it will absolutely and without question, harm LGBTQ children, adults, and anyone who needs information on reproductive health or abortion.

KOSA author, Senator Marsha Blackburn, said she introduced KOSA in part - and I quote - "to protect minor children from the transgender in our society." The Heritage Foundation proudly said they'll apply pressure through KOSA to block information about abortion, reproductive health, & LGBTQ issues.

Vote NO on KOSA.

[/Embedded Text Image Transcript]

K.B. Spangler @kbspangler.com

So, yes, your voice does make a difference because if everyone else is thinking "Well, my voice doesn't matter so why bother" then you and sixteen of your online buddies can go ahead and straight-up boggle a congressman.

Feb 15, 2024 at 12:34 PM

[/Bluesky Transcript] (Emphasis mine)

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[cinnabeat]

need something new to obsess about.....

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.6k words summary: boyfriend!toji headcanons, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, he’s a simp but he’ll never admit it !! rheya's note: grumpy man being soft for the person he really loves? i’m here for it. mamaguro is literal proof that he can and will love !!

bf!toji who is silent with his care for you. he's not one to be open or dramatic about his feelings, but you bet he'll show them in actions. small, mundane things that could only be picked out under critical eyes—like quietly placing an extra mug of coffee next to you as you work, or being the one to walk closest to the street, fingers firmly clasped around your palm. if you point it out he'll just grunt, shaking his head with a quiet "keep walking" all while pretending to ignore your silly little grin.

bf!toji who isn't really the type to be big on words of affirmation, but huge on physical touch. you tell him you did well on a project at school or work and he just hums, giving you a little nod. he doesn't say anything else—doesn't really have to because the soft lingering pat on your head is enough to tell you that he's proud.

bf!toji who is an aggressive yet affectionate lover. if you're doing something and he's not receiving your attention he will come up behind you and put you in a headlock. he thinks it's an appropriate response considering how much he craves your attention and company—why on earth are you focused on something that isn't him anyway? so be prepared to have his heavy bicep playfully curling around your throat or slinging you over his shoulders at random times—it's his way of telling you he misses you. and if anything, he'll do it to hear you whine and attempt to shove him off.

bf!toji who will absolutely take your phone and change your lockscreen to pictures of him. every so often, you'll turn your phone on and see an entirely different picture—sometimes a picture of him at the gym, other times a picture of him blocking out his face—but it's always him.

bf!toji whose own lockscreen is always something that's related to you. he's sneaky with it, always stealing pictures of you when you're not looking. he's got a separate album with them—probably hidden behind a password because it's something only he should be allowed to see. but whether it's a snapshot of his hand intertwined with yours or a blurry image of you fast asleep in his bed, it's always you. because of course you’re the first thing he should be able to see when he turns his phone on.

bf!toji who, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly the type to go feral if someone's made you upset. and he's freakishly observant, noticing even a slight pinch of your nose or wobble in your lips—he's caught them all. whether you're just down or outright sobbing, he's there, standing in front of you with pure anger weighing heavy on his brows. and yet for all his rage he's nothing but gentle as he firmly takes your face in his calloused hands, muttering a strained "what the fuck happened?" as he forces you to make eye contact with him. his own eyes will dart over your features, searching for discomfort or any other emotion as you explain, barely holding back his own emotions because there's no reason on the fucking planet that you should be upset at all.

bf!toji who rarely says the words "i love you" not because he doesn't but because the words themselves don't hold all that much meaning to him. no he'd rather spend his time proving it to you than just saying it for the sake of saying it. but, sometimes if you pretend to be asleep long enough, you'll catch him quietly whisper the words into your hair, almost like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. don't even bother trying to call him out for it—he'll deny deny deny.

bf!toji whose eyes flutter when he lets you trace over his scars. not just the one cutting over his lips but the ones that litter his back and torso—battle remnants that he doesn't remember much of. he's always hated the look of them, indifferent to old memories of a much more chaotic time in his life. but when your gentle fingers graze over the raised skin he'll sigh, oddly quiet but yet so comfortable.

bf!toji who will drop everything if you need him. don't ever hesitate to ask him for things because you're scared of being a burden—he will yell at you (affectionately). you drank too much with your friends and can't get a ride? call him and he'll pick you up even if it's 4 am. you're feeling nervous about walking home from the convenience store even though it's only ten minutes away from home? stay put and he'll come get you so that you can walk back together. shut up about all that "it's an inconvenience for you" bullshit—he'll do it and that's that.

bf!toji who asks if you've eaten today, and when you answer with a sheepish smile he'll click his tongue, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and giving you a pointed glare. then he'll say "get your ass to the kitchen. c'mon, up." while hoisting you to your feet—most of the time he'll just pick you up and plop you on the counter himself.

bf!toji who wordlessly makes you something to eat, whether it's a quick snack put together with leftovers or an actual full meal. then he'll stand in front of you with the plate and demand you eat. even a slight word of protest and he's scowling, already holding up a spoonful while grumbling a low "don't wanna hear it. open up, kid."

bf!toji who hates when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home. his job doesn't allow for the comfort of a strict schedule, and he's told you this many times. but you're nothing if not stubborn, and he can only sigh heavily as he sees you dozing against the armrest when he pushes the door open late at night. he'll click his tongue quietly, hooking both arms under your back and knees to cradle you against his chest before walking to the bedroom. though some part of him is pleased, knowing that you seem to care about him enough to make sure he's coming home every night.

bf!toji who glares at anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way. some guy eyeing you while you're walking on the street? toji looks like he's ready to rip his head off. some "friend" of yours asking too many questions about why you're dating a man like him? well…if looks could kill.

bf!toji who pulls you into his lap when he kisses you, because he likes the way you fit into his space so perfectly. he won't ever admit how it makes him swoon when you giggle against his lips, instead choosing to tighten his grip on your hips and pull you closer to his chest.

bf!toji who enjoys watching you sit on the kitchen counter and swing your legs back and forth—finding it so unbelievably endearing that he ends up just standing in between your legs and burying his face into your neck. his lips will map chaste kisses across your skin, and he'll hide a wry smile as your quiet giggles wash over him.

bf!toji who will notice when you eye something at a store, whether it's a pretty piece of jewelry or a new sweater or whatever—he keeps note. and then weeks later, once you've forgotten all about it, he'll come home and drop a bag into your lap before shoving his hands into his pockets. when you open it and start gushing about how much you wanted it and how pleased you are, he'll huff and turn away, muttering a low "whatever, kid. 's not a big deal."

bf!toji who sees you upset about something, and loops his bicep around your neck and tucks you under his chin. to an outsider it doesn't look like the most comforting form of a hug, but it's toji, and he's secure and he's safe and he's all the comfort you need—a tight squeeze that grounds you in a way that you can't quite describe.

bf!toji who will never admit how interested he is in your gossip. his ideal way to destress after he comes home is to sit on the couch with you in his lap, your arms looped around his waist as you press yourself against his torso and tuck your head under his chin. and even though his eyes are trained on the tv, he has no clue what's going on—he's more focused on the drama you're spilling or whoever you're ranting about. and he makes it known too, occasionally asking "then what happened, baby?" and adding in a few sounds of disbelief. by the end of your rant, he'll be saying something along the lines of "what a fucking bitch," or "honestly he deserved that," and then asks for updates on the situation over the next few days.

bf!toji who silently watches you trace your fingers over the lines on his palms. you're blabbering about something, tucked against his chest as his other arm remains wrapped around you securely, but he's just focused on your hands. it scares him a little bit—the difference between you and him. his palms are calloused, rough with battle and death, while yours are soft, clean of the horrors he's determined to keep away from you. and a small part of him tells him he shouldn't taint you with all his faults, that you deserve someone more capable of loving than he is. but then he feels you brush your lips over his scarred fingers and he sucks in a breath, tightening his grip imperceptibly. even as he hides a half smile against your brow, he knows he isn't going anywhere.

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Cuddles

Alastor x Reader (QP)

You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.

But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.

After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.

Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.

But that wasn't an option.

Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.

"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."

Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.

"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."

A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.

Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.

"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."

Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.

"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."

You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.

Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."

Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.

Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.

"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."

It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.

Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.

[roach-works]

new heresy that makes the bible way funnier:

god genuinely had no idea that people would be able to disobey him, when he made them. angels couldn’t! everything in the universe was just an extension or a reflection of god himself, operating in perfect mechanical order. then he put a spark of his own creative consciousness in an animal and it turned out it could disobey him.

like, that’s why he told adam and eve not to access a perfectly accessible tree. nothing else in the universe up until that point would have done something he told them not to.

that’s why he asks cain a perfectly ridiculous question, given that he would have watched the murder happen right in front of him: where is your brother? what did you do to him? he didn’t know cain could lie. even when adam and eve disobeyed him, surprising absolutely everyone involved, they hadn’t figured out lying yet. cain figured out lying.

that’s why god decides to destroy humans and start over only a few centuries later. he has no idea what to do. not only are people disobeying and lying to him, they’ve started completely ignoring him, too. he can control the wind, the water, the plants, the animals, the angels, the heavens, the earth. but he cut a part of himself loose and gave it to this totally unique new critter and now he can’t get it back. he can’t make anyone do anything, and now they know it. he had to carve humanity back down to the one family that actually, for whatever reason, still listened to him, and he had to ride them pretty fucking hard from that point onward to make sure they didn’t just..... stop. because at any point basically any human, ever, even the ones who liked him, could just randomly decide to fuck off and do their own thing.

then like, according to christians, god thought maybe he could get a handle on whatever the fuck was going on with how bad humans were being by making another human who had even more god in him than all the other humans, and that didn’t work either. and also even jesus himself didn’t know what humans were going to do next, which was kill him young. like, god had to break the news to him based on an educated guess, and it was a big surprise to him! he was really upset! there’s a whole scene!

like, i think this is hands down the funniest fucking thing to conclude about god ever. he didn’t know it was going to turn out like this when he started and he didn’t know what to do when it did. he’s been basically scrambling to stay on top of the situation for six thousand years and he’s totally beefed it repeatedly.

god the omnipotent lord of creation knows everything, except what you’re going to do next. god the supreme ruler of the universe can do anything, except stop you. you have a little piece of god inside you and it lets you defy the most fundamental machinery of existence basically whenever you like.

if that’s not funny, i don’t know what is.

[nervousimposter]

Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 

I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 

He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 

Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 

I wish I was as brave as you.

Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.

God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.

I like how long your hair is getting. 

Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 

They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 

I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?

I dream about us. 

I’m a boy. I’m sorry.

I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 

I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.

I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 

I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 

You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.

I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.

The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 

Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 

And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 

Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  

He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 

Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.

He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?

Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩