#apparently I used it once years ago lol

[void-botanist]

Find the word tag game

I was tagged by @lividdreamz to give this a go! My words were rich, luminous, sweet, milk(y), and pure.

Rich

Triad, Aza's POV

Seriito came from his hotel room dressed in dark, rich browns, with his middling-brown herringbone peacoat buttoned over his turtleneck. “Not wearing the dress out, huh?” The door clicked shut and they started to leave the hotel. “Nah, it’s gorgeous, but I just wanna have a quiet night with you. It’s more of a party, club dress.”

Sweet

The Fourth Android (prev draft), Dez's POV

She went to the grid’s tank access, a round-cornered metal door set in the back wall. The door came away from the seal in the frame with a sticky sound, and as it swung open, a sweet musty smell spread into the air. Past her shoulder he could see a tank completely covered in the orange-red of iron rust. Tirias sighed hard through her teeth and turned back to them. “You’re fucking kidding me.” No one had taught him the sign for fuck, but he couldn’t infer any other word from her expression. It was then that he realized he wasn’t looking at a rusty old metal tank—he was looking at a normal clear glass one full to the brim with rustmold.

Milky

The Fourth Android, Anni's POV

She couldn’t tell how tall they were with the difference between the boat and the dock, but they looked slim, with grey bark that furrowed vertically so it looked like their body was covered in red-brown stretch marks. Their eyes were the same brown, with whites that were actually the milky green-tinged color of the wood of a new twig.

Pure

Triad, Aza's POV

Most of the time she didn’t think about it, but in that moment she envisioned her revenge, over and over again, a hundred different scenarios where her parents knew they’d been owned and embarrassed and one-upped. Social humiliation. Property destruction. Mind games. It was all technically possible, difficult at best, and not at all in line with who she actually wanted to be. But she couldn’t help feeling that without an extreme, there was no way she could make her parents bleed the way she and Seriito had. The thing was, nothing had to be this way. They had tried to break the idea gently. To slip it in subtly. But it wasn’t like they didn’t know their parents—didn’t know it would become a tabloid sensation and a drop-dead drag-out battle for dominance. But what could you expect? Their parents, through a combination of their own trauma, a belief that the only way to make their past suffering matter was to continue on as monarchs, and pure obstinacy, had rejected them out of hand again and again.

I'm tagging @cnjosephs and @frank-in-space (no pressure though!). Your words are network, salvage, cute, endless, and luminous.

[skenpiel]

@eebie DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the dance is from this video ♪(^∇^*)

[hua-fei-hua]

at church reading the hymn lyrics like "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and "hey i learned that word from translating song lyrics so that i could write genshin fic!" and "hey i learned that word from genshin!" and finally "omg i learned that word from the king's avatar"

[pankomako]

sometimes i think about interactions boat and i have had and things he's said to/about me over the years and it makes me feel as though i must occupy some little space in his heart. like i live in his mind rent-free the way he does for me, although not nearly to the same extent lmao.

speak of the goddamn devil i just got a steam notification he's playing tf2

anyway i never thought i'd have that kind of effect on a person, much less my favorite content creator. but it sure appears to be that way, and idk. it makes me feel special. warms my heart n all that :)

[fingertipsmp3]

Really need to turn my instagram notifications on. Why did I check it for the first time in months and discover that my best friend made a meme account, and that this woman I had a crush on four years ago requested to follow me

[marciliedonato]

One thing about packages delivered through DHL is they love to be late....

[heesdreamer]

Forgotten Consequences

PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)

SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences

WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive

WC ➩ 5.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece

“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”

You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.

Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.

“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.

Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.

He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.

It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.

Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.

He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.

You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.

When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.

A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.

They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.

But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.

You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.

“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.

You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.

“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.

You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.

“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.

Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.

“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.

You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.

He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.

Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.

“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.

You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.

He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.

His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.

“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.

He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.

It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.

“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”

Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.

It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.

“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.

You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.

He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.

It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.

“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.

Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.

He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.

It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.

Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.

“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.

His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.

“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”

You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.

He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.

“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.

“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.

“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.

You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.

“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”

He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.

Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.

He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”

You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.

“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”

“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”

He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.

It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.

Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.

“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.

“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.

You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.

“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”

You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.

It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.

“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.

His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.

“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”

You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.

He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.

“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”

Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.

“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.

“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”

“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”

You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.

You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.

“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.

“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.

He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.

Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.

“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”

“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”

You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.

He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.

“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”

You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.

“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.

He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.

The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.

You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.

He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.

“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.

You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.

He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.

“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”

You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.

He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.

It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[aethersea]

I've always wanted to learn bookbinding, ever since I was a wee little nerd, but there are a lot of things I've always wanted to learn, and this one has both a daunting upfront materials cost and a daunting upfront research cost. however, my sister is a jewel among siblings and gave me for christmas last year a handy dandy bookbinding manual, a block of good paper, and a little bag of tools.

but I still didn't have a suitable workspace, nor any of the many important tools and materials that she didn't include in her gift. so I just read the manual and pined. until maybe a month ago I got fed up with pining, flattened a cardboard box for a cutting mat, and went to town.

and I'm real proud of myself, so here's me rambling, plus photos!

I went to the thrift store and got glue + some fabric to bind the cover, went to Michaels for a paintbrush (and later went back for a metal ruler lmao it's amazing how useful it is to have a straightedge for cutting the paper), and...could not find material for the cover boards. so I went home and pined some more. but the urges were too strong, so after a couple hours of moping I got a stack of printer paper at the grocery store (I could not bring myself to use the good paper for my first, inevitably weak attempts, I just couldn't do it) and started making a little booklet. which was a great idea, it turned out, since it makes for good practice with cutting the paper, measuring things, punching holes in the signatures, etc.

I have a big box of greeting cards from Michaels, which I used for the covers. it didn't feel like I was making a Real Book, so I got some colored paper from the stationery store and used that for end papers.

so fancy~

galvanized by this success, I ordered a stack of chipboard online to use for cover boards; and once I was confident that I could cut paper without making it look too stupid (getting that straightedge ruler sure helped lol), I made signatures out of the good paper, left them under some heavy books overnight since I don't have a book press, and then punched holes in them! (huzzah for this nice video on getting the holes right)

my sister's gift included good linen thread. it's unwaxed, but after some poking around on r/bookbinding it looks like that just means I'll have to be more careful to avoid tangles and keep good tension. I am fine with this. I can be extra attentive. (I considered just running it over a beeswax candle, but one commenter said if your wax has paraffin in it, it could melt in a hot car, ruining the spine. I can't guarantee my candle is 100% beeswax, I didn't make it, so maybe we just move on.)

I don't have good linen fabric to use for the tapes, but the important part there is that the fabric be thin, sturdy, and not stretchy. the probably-cotton I got from the thrift store fits the bill, so it'll do!

this is a french link stitch, which I got from this exceedingly good tutorial. apparently it's strong enough on its own that for a book of this size, I don't actually need tapes, but I'd already cut the things so eh here we are. and tapes plus french link will make it a stronger binding still (according to a friendly redditor on r/bookbinding), so we carry on.

specifically we carry on to the gluing step. now as I mentioned, I do not have a book press, and you....kinda need one for this step. you need to hold the book block in place with the signatures facing upwards, pressed together hard enough that the glue won't run down between them and stick the pages together (though you do want the glue to get between them just a little, just for like a 16th of an inch). you at least need some clamps and a couple boards to sandwich the book block with.

but you know what? I'm not a professional, this is my first ever book, if it's a little bit off it'll be fine. so we grab all the heaviest books off the bookshelf and improvise.

it's fine! I'm sure it's fine! and just in case it's not, I've tucked a bit of cardboard underneath to catch any glue that drips down so it won't land on the floor. see? I'm prepared! I'm acing this.

and actually, it really was fine. I used clear elmer's glue, applied with a flat paintbrush from the art supplies aisle at Michael's, and frankly I liked the way the flat paintbrush let me slip glue in between the signatures. I did poke around on a couple bookbinding sites to see what kind of glue I should use, and the gist is that although there are better options than this, elmer's glue is perfectly serviceable, and the main downside is it's not archival grade. but I don't need my first bookbinding attempts to last 200 years, that's fine.

the next step is to add the mull. mull is a specific type of fabric – extremely loose-weave linen – and the idea is to paste it down over the spine to essentially hold the tapes and signatures all in place in relation to each other.

but I don't have mull! so I'm using more of the thrift store probably-cotton, because it's thin enough and not really stretchy at all. I'm sure this will be fine too. I painted a layer of glue onto the spine, then left it to dry a bit while I measured and cut the fabric, then painted a generous stripe of glue down the center, where it'll affix onto the spine. then I added a bit more glue to the spine, just to be sure, and pressed the mull into place, rubbing it thoroughly to make sure it's firmly affixed to every signature, with no creases in the fabric or air bubbles beneath it.

honestly I might have overdone it on the glue. I've never done this before, I don't know! I think it's okay, though – I tried not to ever let it become a thick layer, just a slight coating, since the danger of too much glue is that it might crack once dry and weaken the spine.

and now we leave it in the press overnight to dry, and pick up the next step in the morning!

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

[lesamis]

1810s dashboard but it's niche drama

💛 heartofanna Following

imagine cancelling someone for saying war is bad

🧵 sharethewoe Follow

#didn't expect better from w*rdsworth but some people i rly thought i could count on…… #anyway we will live to see this empire fall. can't stop history lol (via @heartofanna)

speaking as someone who was press ganged at the age of 17 to serve in his majesty's royal navy i couldn't be more grateful for your poem. young men like me are cannon fodder and you spoke for so many of us. fuck napoleon but fuck parliament even more.

86 notes

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

stable forgiving virtuous flourishing in my lane definitely not buying poison moisturized unbothered never been better

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

me when i lie

179302 notes

🏛 mynoseisfine Follow

Settling this once and for all. What does the public actually think about the Parthenon marbles debate:

🦉 realminerva Follow

lol i know it’s you lord elgin

🦉 realminerva Follow

like we joke and all but fully aside from the fact that removing the sculptures from greek soil was vulturine and opportunistic etc, it’s really just the tip of a frankly gigantic mountain of imperialist bullshit. let’s not pretend we haven’t been brutally killing hundreds who resisted oppression in india, LITERALLY BOMBED A NEUTRAL EUROPEAN CAPITAL, and embarrassed ourselves in the charge against napoleon for years now. pathetic ass empire & evil as hell to boot. @mynoseisfine the greeks who carved your marbles millennia ago would kick your tory ass so hard

3661 notes

🎀 emmawoodhousestan Follow

how do i still keep seeing thomas chatterton's final post being reblogged, wtf is wrong with you freaks??? he was seventeen it was tragic and horrible and happened ages ago. he was a kid just let him rest

294 notes

🍎 masque-off Following

callout post for @castleyeah @lordsidmouth @officialcoe @parliamentofficial: they oppress, murder and famish the british working people & also suck majorly

⛪ castleyeah Follow

sour cuz you’re unfit to have custody of your own kids huh

🍎 masque-off Following

proud to be the dad of a newborn who could already rend your pudding spine asunder with a mere glance

187 notes

🦆 mallardturner Following

finished this today 😊

44 notes

😎 chadeharold Follow

why is it always “you’re risking your life and legacy & will get yourself killed before the age of five and twenty” and never how was swimming the hellespont the hellespont looked fun was it fun

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

ohhh my god you swam the hellespont five years ago?? wooow should we tell everyone?? should we throw a party?? should we invite famous hero of greek myth leander who swam the hellespont

😎 chadeharold Follow

@loved-joanna look we never had any beef & don’t have to start this now. it’s cool that you’re sticking up for my ex, you guys were friends first, but just know that i’ve always trusted your opinion on my work & genuinely respect and admire you & would still be up for a collab whenever.

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

yea sure why don’t your lips collab with my ass

😎 chadeharold Follow

on it boss

1009 notes

#literally call me. down if you are

🍂 endymion Follow

sorry is it me or is the assassin who stabbed german bootleg wordsworth kinda…… 🥵

💄 biprincesscharlotte Mutuals

JOHN KEATS????????

2427 notes

#i'm p sure this is the author of lamia thirstposting on main??? help

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

romanticism this romanticism that why don’t you romanticise universal suffrage and rights for labouring people

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

anyone else in jail for seditious libel

🏹 axelaidtotheroot Mutuals

lmao i'm one of the “anyone else”s and i know you’re enjoying family visits and apparently some kind of cushy armchair situation, plus tons of books. try being in here as a spencean dude they won’t even let me learn how to write. worst of all some evangelical came by yesterday just to proselytize & put me “on the right path” fml

8341 notes

🗻 mounttambora Follow

y'all i don't feel so good :/

59 notes

[rafesfavgirl]

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[cyberbabyangell]

₊˚⊹☆ how i minishifted more than 5 times (in a row)

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hello shiftblr! ANTIS GET OUT.

lately (since yesterday lol) i've been believing that the 4D is truly what's real and i should stop looking for validation in the 3D, because it's delayed. i KNEW this, intellectually, but didn't really give it too much thought. it's yesterday that i understood that no matter what i think, want, know, the 4D is the only true reality (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

intellectually i was aware shifting was getting overcomplicated, and a lot of us shifters allowed ourselves to be spoon fed a bunch of "information" from different people that are actually opinions masked as facts if that makes sense. "To shift, you need to-" NO 😾

but i did actually forget how simple shifting is. i can't even believe i did, considering two years ago i shifted qamarknowshowmanytimes in a row with two steps. TWO STEPS. my first shifting attempt, 3 years ago, sent me to the void state. not only is it simple, but i've done it more than once.

and today i'm gonna explain in very simple words how i did!

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𝜗𝜚 SATS

THIS is my poison and I completely forgot about this! Honestly I haven't used affirmation in so long lmao. In simple terms, State Akin To Sleep, is what you're in when you're about to fall asleep. This can also be called the hypnagogic state if i'm not mistaken!

It's one of the many states where the right part of your brain, your subconscious or whatever tf is the most naive part of your brain is the most active. Which means you're more likely to believe anything! It is commonly used in shifting/manifestation. Today I also heard "Theta state" is apparently similar if not the same.

So, with this in mind, what I would do was simple:

affirm as soon as i closed my eyes.

and i actually shifted awake during these ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

combined with visualisation i believe, i would slowly feel my surroundings change and i was very aware of it because back in the day i was shifting in the middle of a car ride..so it moves and vrooms and i felt it. 🚗

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affirmations i'd use

if i remember them correctly (because i don't remember if i used present or past affs)

"I am in my desired reality" -- tend to avoid those nowadays and replace them with identity/lifestyle affs

"I have shifted"

"I am a master shifter"

"I am in X/with X"

"My name is Soren"

"I am on my way to X"

"I am pure consciousness not attached to any reality"

"I have shifted to my desired reality"

And so on!

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thats literally it.

it honestly baffles me how this worked so well for me and now im stuck overthinking shit over and over. i think this works well for me because even if i shifted before falling asleep, the end goal was still for me to sleep. i have a terrible sleep schedule and get knocked out after relaxing for 30 seconds, so this is my jam!!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

[tainbocuailnge]

fgo is backpedalling on a feature for the first time lmao they'd expanded the append skill system to add one that increases crit damage and one that lowers the cooldown of the first use of each skill(!) but they all still cost the same amount of super rare servant exclusive currency so if you want to unlock them all you need to roll 8 copies of your bond 15 5* servant AND also not have used their excess coins on the feature they'd already introduced to turn spare coins (that now retroactively are not spare) into grails

compensation is 120 quartz (lol) and promising they're going to refund all the coins you put into grails (which they tracked apparently?) (why not retroactively hand out coins for amount of storylocked 3* then) and make it possible to swap levels from one append skill to another (bandaid solution to the real problem being that this coin system is bogus gacha bait to begin with) (they'd promised servant-independent coins ages ago)

i do think it's interesting that this is evidently where fgo players are collectively drawing the line and making enough noise that lasengle actually has to backpedal on it. I don't have any hard statistics on player activity but my anecdotal experience is that fgo is bleeding players at this point so I wonder if they'd still have backpedalled (and with such a sizeable sum of quartz) if player retention wasn't as much at risk lately. pulling out so many collaboration characters in an unusually short timespan and an incredibly long anticipated unit like summer ereshkigal with a literal affection meter mechanic and anti-ntr features that make it so you can never use her optimally if you don't roll her yourself feels like a real desperate move on their part to get people to come back. hey you left fgo to play real games like samrem and mahoyo and tsukire right look we have water saber and aoko and ciel please come back!!

fgo has been running into the limits of its fairly basic gameplay engine for years and rolling out various bandaid systems to pretend to add more depth for as many years without addressing the real issues but since there's so many other fate games getting (re)releases lately people have less reason to care about fgo specifically, because they can just pay for one of those other games once and have a complete story experience without having to do time-limited chores about it. I joked about oberon killing fgo earlier but I think realistically it's the combination of lb6 being a story high they haven't been able to reach again + samrem releasing and mahoyosweep picking up around when people were realizing fgo wasn't gonna reach that same high again. there's less and less reason to stick with fgo because there's real complete games coming out that will give you a very similar story experience and won't make you do various time-limited chores about it

ideally this will scare lasengle into making more intensive changes but they've been so stubbornly blind to the actual problems with the game for so long I'm not counting on them actually fixing those

[forthevillains]

Okokok this is gonna sound weird, BUT, pretty please hear me out 😘

So imagine being Albert Wesker's "childhood friend" Like when he was a teen he'd sneak out to spend time with you every so often if he had a bit of free time in his busy af schedule. Idk what to do about this idea from there. I just think it's kinda fun. Maybe he's secretly a yandere lol. No idea.

That’s such a good idea!

The fact that Wesker would have someone to talk to without Spencer knowing at all. Like he’d be so excited to actually have a friend he’d risk his everything only to get to see you. As smart as he is, it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to create a plan, but making it work with all the people around him would be much worse.

Alex surely caught him at least once, questioning his intentions, curious on why in the hell would her brother go out during such a time while they have so much to do. Wesker was tense the whole time they were talking, he felt stupid, it all looked and sounded much better in his head, but when he said "I found a friend.” - he cringed at himself. No matter this reaction though, as much as Alex used to tease the hell out of him and even make fun of him, she was still his sister and he was closest to the family she’s lost years ago. Something about Albert being able to make connections with people after all that’s been done to him is still on her mind and so she lets him go, having his back whenever Spencer asked of his whereabouts.

Wesker would sneak out more and more often, the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be with you. It became something he couldn’t live without, seeing you smile at him every now and then, interested in him. If you asked about his parents he would go quiet, so you made a mental note of not asking about his personal life again. You became the talker and did he love listening to you. He got to know the smallest of things, everything about your own family… He made sure to remember every detail about you, especially the type of places you liked so that he could take you there when you guys would get older. It was the first time for him having a friend like this so he cared for you like for no other.

I can imagine Wesker getting really fixated though, after some time, he wouldn’t know whether its love or obsession he’s feeling, but deep in his guts he’s aware that it’s no good, not for him, not for you. He’s destined for big things, he has so many lives on his hands. He’s nothing like any other teenager, he has an important duty (and trust that sometimes he hates it very much). Though you always make him feel like a normal teenager, like a normal human being… And that’s special to him, by treating him like a decent human - you’re making him feel special.

And even when he loved to spend his time with you, everything good in his life apparently had to come to an end. You left, because your parents insisted on moving away and that was when you and Albert got separated. It hurt, both you and him, but in his case it was hard to move on. So hard he just couldn’t do it. He’d feel sad, always thinking of the times spent with you, away from all his problems and now it was all gone. While you were quick to find new friends, he became so lonely that not even William or Alex made him feel better.

You haven’t come back in years, in almost two decades. And Wesker was still thinking of you sometimes, even though he was somewhere completely else. He changed physically and mentally that’s for sure, now that he was captain of S.T.A.R.S. with even more responsibilities than before. He became cold, stern and hardworking man with clear goals in his mind. He didn’t include you in his plans anymore, even though he wondered where you were a lot, he wondered if you got married and had kids, he wondered if you thought about him the same way he thought about you. Obsession it was indeed.

One day however, you ran into him, on an accident. You didn’t see it coming as you were texting your co-worker of an important matter when you found yourself basically walking into his muscular form, immediately dropping your phone and if it wasn’t from him - you’d be lying on the ground right next to it.

"I’m sorry-“ you were ready to leave, but he stopped you before you could go any further. You were familiar, everything about you felt that way and when you looked up at him, all confused, he recognized those eyes. It was as if the time stopped for him, finally seeing the woman he liked when they were young, someone who overlooked all his flaws and made him smile almost each time they met.

"What is it?” You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in curiosity and only then has he realized that he’s been staring at you through his shades and not saying anything.

"Y/N…” he only muttered your name, completely taken aback by the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing you now. "It’s been so long.”

You don’t get what he means at first, but when he takes the sunglasses off to get a proper look at you. "Al-“ before you finished saying his name he pulled you in for a hug, wanting nothing more than to feel that you’re real. He only used to hug you when you initiated it, but now it was his turn, he felt as if it wasn’t real at all, that it was too good to be.

No matter the shock, you hugged him back after a while, wrapping your hands around him, taking a note of how much bigger he got over the years. He’s grown to be a handsome man to say the least.

"What are you doing here?” You asked when you pulled away, giving him a small smile.

"Going to work.” He made it up. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he’s learned that you’re around. He’s not gonna make the same mistake of letting you go now that he has more control over his own life. It might feel crazy to some, but he wanted to keep an eye on you, getting to know your habits, where you worked, where you lived and he wouldn’t wait for you to tell him yourself, it’s already been too much time without you. He wanted to make up for it now.

"Oh alright! Sorry, I must be wasting your time,” you apologized.

Wesker shook his head though. "Of course you’re not.” He was so gentle talking to you that if someone has heard him they probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

"Well in that case, we should catch up with each other. Are you free this evening? I’ve got so much to tell you!” There you were, the girl he used to know, immediately showing him your interest even though you haven’t seen him in decades. He couldn’t even say no to you, immediately cancelling whatever plans he’s had to make sure he’s indeed free in the evening. This time you’re not getting away from him, he’s going to make you his at some point. He’s been stupid enough to let you go once, he’s not gonna do it again;)

[garpond]

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn