#do people read things at 2 in the morning?

[tlou-reid]

The Summertime & Butterflies ✿ Spencer Reid

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: a local florist helps spencer make a peony arrangement for a friend.

♡ WARNINGS: florist!reader, cheesy flower shop names, not edited, that's it really

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

“And these ones,” You gestured to the white chrysanthemum arrangement you made that morning, “represent loyalty, which is also necessary when proposing.” You practically floated through the little corner store filled with flowers, very obviously fitting in. This was your element, basically your home. You spent more time here, at ‘Cherry Bloom Barn’, than anywhere else in the world. Coincidentally, you were also the happiest here. Not many people could say that about their job, you were extremely fortunate in this way.

“Okay, I think I’ll take those,” the woman you were currently touring around gestured to an arrangement you had shown her earlier, “and those,” she pointed at the chrysanthemum arrangement, “and maybe we could do something with those sunflowers? Those are her favorite.” You hummed in agreement, already brainstorming the different ways you could incorporate them.

You had been working with Eloise for a few hours now, ensuring she had everything she needed to propose to her girlfriend. She had described her vision in detail, and you were sure you could make it a reality. It would take some time, and definitely a lot of work, but there was nothing more motivating than helping someone who was very clearly in love.

The only thing you enjoyed more than gardening and flower arranging, was helping people in love. Being able to bring someone’s vision for their partner to life, and knowing you will, in a bit of a roundabout way, be a permanent mark in their love story, was more fulfilling than any other career you could imagine. 

You brought Eloise back to the small desk you kept in the corner of your store. There were vines sprawling across it, but it felt homey nonetheless. You wrote down your notes, finalized the arrangements and delivery, and had Eloise sign the agreement. You knew you were discounting your prices a tad when you handed her the receipt, but no one had to know that. 

“See you in a few days!” You smiled at her, and she waved on her way out. With a sigh, you began to neaten up your space. The time you’ve dubbed the ‘in-between’ was the best part of your day. No one to greet, no sales pitch to make, just you and your flowers. What more could a girl want?

Your ‘in-between’ lasted almost an hour and a half, before the bell in front of your door chimed, signaling a new arrival. You were in the back, turning on the plant-safe light you used when there was a lack of sunlight coming in through your large shop windows. With the summer setting, it was a need. “Be right there!” You hollered from your hidden nook, fighting with the old light switch. It took a few seconds, but after a bit of flickering, the lights came on.

As quickly as you could without breaking any pots, you shuffled your way out to the front of the shop. You straightened your apron and wiped your sweaty hands along your thighs. Once you looked up, you were met with the most beautiful eyes, on the most beautiful man, you’d ever seen. “Welcome!” You said, cheerfully. You chose to ignore the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He gave a tight-lipped smile, holding on to the satchel that was draped across his broad chest. “Looking for anything in particular?” You questioned, offering him a wide smile. “Yes, actually,” he said, suddenly very comfortable, “I need peonies.” He declared. It wasn’t very often a man came in and knew what flowers to request. You were stunned for a minute, before ushering him over the the ‘Peony Point’. There was a wooden sign hung above the corner, with little paintings of peonies decorating it.

This section of the store was covered in different colors and arrangements of its namesake flower. You were especially proud of the red ones, knowing how prestigious the meaning of them can be. You let him look around for a second, noticing how drawn he was to the yellow ones. After a few seconds, you approached him again, “The yellow ones represent,” you started, but were quickly cut off. “Joy and good fortune. I think these will be perfect.” 

Your mouth ran dry at the way he cut you off. You weren’t sure if it was some kind of intimidation tactic, maybe he was looking for the cheapest flowers, or if it was excitement from some life event he was about to celebrate.

“Awesome,” You forced out, a bit more timid than you usually would be with your customers. “Are you looking for an arrangement with other flowers, a plain bouquet, or some kind of planter?” The man took a look around as if he was weighing his options. “Could you do an arrangement? I need it by tomorrow, but I am willing to pay extra.” You glanced around, brain already conjuring up flowers that would match in color or size.

You nodded, “I think I could make that happen, depending on the size.” He turned back to you, with a much brighter smile than the one he’d given you earlier, “Thank you. I would prefer things with meaning, like prosperity, long-lasting love, and purity, if you could.” You once again nodded, “I think I can do that.” You assured, waving him over to your desk. You chuckled at the way he perched himself up on the stool you had for customers. It definitely was not made for people of his height.

“A medium size will do, with a white vase?” He questioned. “Let me double-check my inventory, give me one second.” He nodded in response, smiling at the way you rushed away. He could tell this environment made you happy, even front the brief amount of time he’d spent here. Your customer service skills were excellent, and your work even better. You were clearly made for this.

“I have two different medium white vases,” You emerged from an overgrown closet, holding two vases. “This one,” you raised your left hand, “Has a handle and is significantly more round, but this one,” you lowered your left hand and raised your right, “is my favorite! It has this more asymmetrical design and sharper edges.” The man smiled, recognizing that you were describing them even though he could clearly see them.

“If you say it’s your favorite, I think I have to go with that one.” You couldn’t tell if his tone was more flirtatious, or if he was just giving your enthusiasm a subtle compliment. Regardless, you could feel those butterflies again. “Awesome,” You sighed a bit nervously. “Let me get this all written up.”

You learned his name was Spencer when you swiped his card. You got another good look at his hazel eyes as you went over costs. He offered an express fee and handed it to you anyway when you declined. In return, you left your personal phone number on his receipt, just in case he wanted to get in contact about his order in a faster manner. He smiled, his face turning a bit red.

By the time you were done with Spencer, it was time to close shop. You would’ve stayed later to work on it, but you knew Casper, your three-legged white cat, would throw a fit if you were late for dinner.

You got to work earlier than normal the next day, knowing you had to get Spencer’s order done. You made sure Casper had everything she needed, before hustling out the door. Your outfit was made of pastels, allowing you to almost blend into the flowers covering your shelves. You were deeply immersed in putting together Spencer’s arrangement by the time your phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to open.

You were content with the progress you’d made, taking a step back and marveling at the start of your project. You reached for your phone to turn off your alarm, and took a moment to check your notifications. A message from an unsaved number caught your interest:

Hello, It’s Spencer. I wanted to make sure it was okay if I picked up the arrangement during my lunch break. I would like to deliver them to her after work if that is possible. Thank you for your hard work and for making time for me.

You smiled at the formal tone of his text, as it was perfectly him. However, that smile quickly fell when you realized he was delivering the flowers to a female. Obviously. Why else would a man know what kind of flowers he wanted? Why else would he worry about the meaning of them? He was in love.

And you flirted with him. You flirted with him and gave him your personal number, and he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend he is in love with.

The only thing you can think to do to hide your embarrassment is to start opening the store. You did some minimal cleanup, knowing you were going to return to your project until a customer came in. You laid out your books, which showcased your extra options that may not be on display in your store. Then, you propped open your door and flipped the open sign on.

You were determined to make this the best arrangement you’d ever made. Spencer was a man who was doing his best to impress his lady. He knew her favorite flowers, the meaning behind them, and the color of the vase he wanted to match. This was a man who cared about his girlfriend, and you were going to make sure the arrangement he took home was perfect. No minuscule attraction to him was going to get in the way of that. 

You breezed through the arrangement, due to this newfound inspiration. It took maybe another hour or two before you were completely done, moved the arrangement into the vase, and were gathering all the essentials to send Spencer home with; care instructions, plant food, and even a few different cards, just in case he wanted to leave a note. 

You texted Spencer back, sending a picture of your arrangement with a caption: It’s all done! You are free to pick up whenever! I hope you love it!. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

You busied yourself with taking care of your plants and then working on Eloise’s order. You drew up some ideas for different bouquets and vases of flowers, as well as cut some stems to use to show her the different mixes and matches you could make with the flowers she’d picked. You’d almost forgotten about Spencer’s pick-up by the time he arrived.

“Hello,” Spencer greeted, breaking you out of your hyperfocus. “Spencer!” You cheered, rubbing your hands on a towel, before moving to shake his. “Oh,” he hesitated, “I don’t really shake hands.” You nodded in response, before waving him over to the table where his order was. 

His face lit up as soon as he laid eyes on it, “It’s beautiful!” He marveled. Those butterflies in your tummy started to flutter again, against your will. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, not used to the attention. “I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.” You promised, moving to bag everything up for him. You were quite proud of the sustainable bags with the logo you had made.

“What?” Spencer questions, face scrunching up. That embarrassment from earlier started to bubble up in your stomach, killing the butterflies. “I was just saying,” You hesitated, “This arrangement is beautiful, you did an excellent job selecting flowers. The receiver is very lucky.” Smooth recovery.

Spencer’s face relaxed, “I hope so. My best friend just had a baby. I couldn’t show up empty-handed, you know?” You smiled at his words. Butterflies revived.

You and Spencer wrapped up. He paid his final dues and you educated him on the use of plant food. “I will let you know how she likes it!” He promises as he disappears out the door, awkwardly shuffling out. You chuckled at him, and a sense of relief washed over your body.

Casper was content next to you on the couch. You were surprised at how calm he was, despite the opened bag of popcorn on your lap. You were completely serene, engrossed in the newest episode of your show. Nothing could disturb you at the moment.

Except for your phone buzzing on the coffee table in front of you, lighting up with ‘Spencer’ written across the top. You smiled, paused the episode, and waited a few seconds before swiping on the call, answering it with a cheerful, “Hello!”

“She loved it! She absolutely loved it!” Spencer cheered, too excited to allow himself to question why he was calling you. It was like a gut reaction from him. After leaving JJ’s hospital room, he immediately reached for his phone, feeling a need to let you know. He was glad you’d given him your personal number. 

“I’m glad, Spencer!” You responded. He could hear your smile from over the phone. “She asked me to be the godfather!” Spencer informed. His rambly, awkward self was completely gone, overcome with glee. “How can I thank you?”

You laughed at his question. He didn’t need to thank you, he paid for his order. Overpaid, in fact. “Spencer, there is absolutely no need. I’m glad everything worked out for you, and I’m glad she loved it.” Behind the phone, Spencer shook his head. He was alone in the train station, allowing him to be completely himself. “Let me take you out.” Spencer surprised himself with his proposal. 

Of course, he’d been attracted to you the second he walked into the Cherry Bloom Barn, and his attraction was starting to turn into a crush the more time he spent around the shop. He didn’t know you yet, but he was very much interested in getting there.

Still, he was shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. He was on a metaphorical high. Adrenaline was running through him from his amazing time with JJ and the team. His long limbs were almost shaking, and yet he wasn’t nervous. He was comfortable talking to you, and that meant a lot in his world.

“I’d like that,” You stuttered out, “but, it doesn’t have to be a thanks. Take me out because you want to take me out, not because I did a service for you.” You clarified, wanting to make sure you were on the same page. “Of course!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he stepped onto his train. “I do want to take you out. I’d be honored to.”

“It’s a date.” You declared with a smile. “Alright, awesome, I’ll get back to you with a time and stuff.” Spencer couldn't believe his mind was being reduced to words like “awesome” and “stuff”, but between his excitement from being Henry’s godfather and your agreeing to go on a date with him, he was basically a puddle in his train seat.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.” You said, before moving into goodbyes. Casper’s relaxed state quickly dissipated as you squealed, letting the butterflies in your stomach win for a second. 

[tragedyslut]

“ the rumours, are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true ”

𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 : read part 1 + part 2 here <3

𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑛𝑖, 𝑏𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑜!𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟!𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑠𝑢𝑏 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒, 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑜, 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 <3

you didn't feel bad at all for sending her nudes to everyone. she got what was coming.

ellie woke up the next morning, with a feeling of dread. she didn't know what had happened, but she had a feeling. a bad one. she knew exactly what had happened when she opened Instagram to a bunch of dms, most containing her nudes with captions calling her various names.

she immediately went back onto your Instagram, seeing that you hadn't stop promoting your OF. it made her blood boil that you'd do something like that to her and act like nothing happened, but then again, she did it first. she then clicked message, and typed out a long message to you.

" hey, y/n. i just wanted to say that you're a fucking dick for spreading my nudes around like that. i sent them to people i liked, you just send any random guy everything for money. you're a slut and im glad everyone on campus has seen how much of a weird fucking slut you are. you had no right to send my nudes around like that. at least i don't send them to random men. "

sent. seen. y/n.Instagram.name is typing..

she knew she didn't have any right to be mad. just the sight of you typing back further embedded the realisation that she was in the wrong. she did all of this just because she wouldn't admit she was attracted to a girl.

" at least i get money out of it, you're this pathetic for free. " was the only thing you responded with. you were sitting in your room with a few friends, absolutely loosing it over the text. ellie really couldn't take what she dished out and it was funny.

meanwhile ellie was sobbing in her bed, she was angry, but overall, she was guilty and confused. why the fuck did she need to be such a bitch? she hated herself for doing all that now. she would probably never get to be with you now.

that night she spent scrolling through your gorgeous pictures whilst she desperately fucked herself. you were right, she was this desperate, and for free. but that didn't stop her.

the next day, she slumped her way into class, half asleep. she kept thinking about you. you were sitting away from her this time. everytime she looked up she'd earn a glare or an exaggerated "what the fuck are you looking at" expression. which was all deserved, yet she was still sitting there feeling sorry for herself.

the lecturer then said something about getting into groups of two. she frantically looked around, realising that nobody in the class actually wanted to pair with her. they all bunched up away from her, forming mini groups and voting you and her out like this was fucking survivor or something. it pissed her off. even more so when she realised that she would have to work with you. she really had to choice. even if you might end up punching her in the throat.

𝑝𝑡4 wip<3

taglist hotties! :

@fakevalentine

@toosweetfm

@pr1nc3ss-sc4r

@claymoreshaze

@bready101

@amberputh

@lil-elliesgf

[vodika-vibes]

😌 idk if my first request for a fox x reader went through but i’ve been reading a lot (ofc whats new) and uh uh I found I really love fics with CX-2 (Clone Assassin) aND SO, to my favorite SW writer I ask;

How bout a soulmate au with CX-2 (?) Could be a bit of angst with a happy ending, and everyone is just wondering how reader could be with him after all the things he’s done (uh im getting sunshine!reader x grumpy character vibes)

dont have to write this! i just would love to see some more cx-2 fics after reading one just now lol also im down the rabbit hole again that its cx-2!tech whose been reconditioned, do what you feel is best but i just love that theory bc I’m a firm believer too that tech never died 😌

Protective

Summary: For a long time, your parents feared that you didn’t have a soulmate. Until, one morning, you woke up and found a wild dog curled up next to you on your bed. You named him Noir, and the people around you quickly learned that he was fiercely protective of you. However, after Noir kills an Imperial Officer after he threatens, you have no choice but to go on the run.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader, background Tech x Phee

Word Count: 2799

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - soulmates have spirit animals representing each other.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I wasn't able to get the angst to work, largely because I wasn't in an angsty mood. Also, as much as I love the CX-2 being Tech idea, I had a different idea for this fic, so I hope you like it!

“What d’ya have there, Noir?” You ask as you return to the small hut that has been your home for the last three months and crouch in front of your oldest companion.

Noir’s tail wags rapidly as he nudges something in your direction.

You gently rub his head, then carefully pick up his offering, “Oh, it’s a fish. Did you find dinner for us, pal?”

Noir releases a happy yip, and you laugh softly, “Good job, Noir.” You stand and carry the fish over to the rough kitchen to divvy up the portions. Most of the fish will go to Noir, while you’ll prepare your portion with some seasoning that the Wookies traded with you.

Three months ago, Noir slaughtered an Imperial Officer who threatened your life. You’ve always known that he is fiercely protective of you, and you knew that there was a chance that he would kill again if you were threatened.

The first time it happened you had still been a child. Your uncle tried to kidnap you, and Noir reacted violently. 

That time, the authorities just nodded and said it made sense, that your uncle had bad intentions. Neither you, nor Noir, were punished for the death of your uncle.

The Empire is much less understanding.

You had no choice but to take Noir and flee from Coruscant.

The pair of you bounced from planet to planet for several months and then were offered a safe house on Kashyyyk, in the Shadowlands far below the treetop homes of the Wookie people.

It’s not easy.

You are, at your heart, a city girl. Hunting and survival skills do not come naturally to you. Luckily, you have Noir. He really is the greatest equalizer.

If not for him, you’d have died several times since you moved into the small hut.

The biggest downside to this whole situation is the knowledge that you’re not likely to ever meet your soul mate.

Well, unless your soulmate is a Wookie, you suppose.

Carefully, you fillet the fish on your cutting board and toss the large majority into Noir’s bowl, the rest is set in a bowl of marinade and shoved into the fridge. 

At least you have electricity. 

Sure, you don’t have a holo, but you do have a radio that allows you to keep up to date on the current events, and, much more importantly, listen to books while you fight to keep the Shadowlands from reclaiming the hut.

You’re about to flip the radio on, when Noir releases a low growl.

A growl low enough that your hair stands on end.

You turn your gaze to Noir and see that his ears are flat against his head and his teeth are bared. Spooked, you reach for your belt and grab your blaster, and then you nudge the door open.

Noir slinks out of the hut and, cautiously, you follow him.

The forest is silent. Eerily silent. 

You scan the forest around you, not that you expect to be able to see or hear anything. It’s enough that Noir is still growling as though he’s on the verge of attacking.

There’s a rustle in a bush, and you lift your blaster, only to lower it as a small, curious-looking creature ambles out. It’s red, black, and white, and you’d almost think it was a raccoon if not for the colors.

Noir is still growling like there’s a threat, but he’s ignoring the small creature, which is still ambling towards you. It stops at your feet and raises on its hind legs, and you crouch to get a better look at it.

When Noir first appeared in your bedroom all those years ago, no one was sure what kind of animal he was. Not even the zoologists at the local university were able to determine a species.

So you spent a lot of time as a child flipping through various animal encyclopedias. And, while you’d never claim that you had a perfect memory, this little creature does look familiar.

“You’re a Red Panda, aren’t you?” You murmur as you lightly stroke the soft fur on top of her head, “Your kind isn’t native to Kashyyyk, how did you get here?” What’s more is that she’s soft, as though someone’s been taking care of her, though based on the scarring around her ankles, she’s been chained up a lot. “Are you someone’s pet?”

The red panda climbs into your arms and promptly falls asleep, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, you’ve clearly been socialized. Maybe I can do something about the scarring.”

Your head snaps up as there’s more rustling and Noir’s growl lowers.

Five Stormtroopers stumble into the clearing, “There it is!” One of them says as he points at the Red Panda in your arms, “Get it!”

You stumble backward as they lift their blasters and Noir launches himself at the Stormtroopers. 

You’ve always known that Noir was quick. Quick and with a strong bite, but the last time you’ve seen him move this quickly was when you were a child. He manages to kill three of the Stormtroopers before they recognize that he’s a threat.

The fourth and fifth, however, turn their blasters on him.

And, for a moment, you think that you’re going to watch Noir die. 

You only think that for a moment, as another man emerges from the forest. He’s clad in black armor, much unlike the stark white armor of the Stormtroopers. And you watch as he uses a blade to kill one of the Stormtroopers from behind. 

You watch as he and Noir work in concert to kill the last of the Stormtroopers.

And then you watch as Noir jumps up on the man, his tail wagging faster than you’ve ever seen before. The armored man seems surprised at how friendly Noir is, and, to be honest, you are too.

He’s so friendly with the armored man, in fact, that you can’t help but think that Noir is the representation of said armored man.

“Noir,” You say, drawing the attention of both the wild dog and the armored man, “His name is Noir.”

It’s kind of hard to read him, seeing as he’s wearing a helmet, but you’re pretty sure that he’s staring at you. “Ka’ra.” He gestures to the red panda in your arms, “She’s been a prisoner her whole life.”

“That explains the scarring,” You walk over to him and pass him his spirit animal, a small smile crossing your face as Noir drops to his paws and bounces around you. “I have some medical stuff, to wrap her scars if you want.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and then nods once, “I’d appreciate that.”

You lead him into the hut, and motion for him to take a seat anywhere while you dig around for the first aid kit.

Once you find it, you set it on the table and open it to dig through what you have left. “You know, you don’t have to leave your helmet on.” You note lightly, “This is a pretty safe place.”

The man hesitates for a moment, then he nods once and reaches up to pull off his helmet. 

You’re genuinely surprised to see that he’s a clone. He looks like every other clone you’ve ever seen, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin…though he does have some nasty scarring along the side of his face.

He’s handsome, you decide as you focus back on your medkit. He kind of looks like Noir, if you squint.

Though, now you have to wonder if you look like his Ka’ra.

“Ah, here we go!” You pull several rolls of bandages from the bottom of the kit and some scar powder. “If I remember correctly, this needs to be added to water, and then the bandages need to soak in it for a bit before we apply them—” You mumble under your breath as you flip the bottle and squint at the instructions.

“What’s your name?” The man asks.

You glance at him and introduce yourself absently, before you squint at the directions again, “What’s yours?”

“...CX-2.”

You pause, “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never actually met another person with a soul animal before.”

“It’s rare, then?”

“One of the rarest soul bonds.” You agree, “The only one that’s more rare is the teleportation one.” You stand to grab a clean bowl and fill it with water before placing it on the table.

“I have a brother with the teleportation soul bond. He vanished one day, never saw him again.” CX replies as he watches you.

“Well, there are a lot of you.” You reply as you add some of the powder to the water and stir it in.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, “What is a human doing on Kashyyyk?”

“Ah…well.” You pause, “Noir killed an Imperial Officer who threatened me.”

CX stares at you for a long time, and then his lips curl up into an amused smile, “Good.”

You shoot him a puzzled look.

“He’s as protective of you as I would be.”

“Yeah, well…he is representative of you, right?” You reply with a small shrug.

“I didn’t expect you to be so calm about it,” CX notes, “You do realize that I’m an assassin, right?”

You start unrolling a roll of bandages, “When I was about eleven years old,” You say quietly, “My uncle tried to kidnap me from my bedroom. Noir,” You nod at the wild dog who is gnawing on a bone, “ripped his throat out before he got me out of the living room.” You look at him, “Why should I be afraid of you?”

CX looks startled for a moment, and then a quiet laugh falls from his lips, “I suppose you have good reason to not be afraid.”

You shrug, “I would prefer it if you didn’t assassinate people anymore, but I’d also prefer to not live in a hut on Kashyyyk, so—” You shrug again, and finally drop the bandages into the water.

“What would you have me do instead?”

“Mm, you can join the Rebellion?”

“Ick.”

A laugh falls from you, “I mean when the Republic was still standing, I never had to worry about Republic Officers threatening me. Within a month of the Republic turning into an Empire, I was threatened by an Imperial Officer.”

“...I suppose that it fair.”

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” You say lightly, “We can stay here if you prefer.”

“We?”

“Well, I assume that you want to stay with me?”

CX gazes at you silently, “I want you safe. So staying does make the most sense.”

You meet his gaze evenly, “I’ll definitely be safer with you, compared to away from you.” You agree.

CX is silent for a long moment, “Mandalore.”

“Beg pardon?”

“There’s a group of former Commandos who have a compound on Mandalore. They’re housing clones and their families.” He explains, “We’ll be safe there.”

“How do you know that?”

“All of the Clones know it.” He says, “Well, save for Alpha Prime, I suppose.”

“How are we supposed to get there?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I have a ship.”

You grin at him, and then pull the bandages out of the water, “I think it’s a great idea.”

It takes three weeks for you and CX to get to Mandalore, and it takes even longer for CX to prove that he’s not an active threat to his brothers. You’re not able to help with that, but watching him interact with you does a lot to earn him some goodwill.

You like your new home, it’s not Coruscant, but there is plenty of room for Noir to run around and get spoiled, and he does get spoiled. Not quite as much as CX’s Ka’ra, but pretty close. 

Surprisingly, CX is somewhat clingy. When he’s in the same area as you, his arms are around you, or his hand is in yours. You kind of have the feeling that he’s a little touch starved, so you don’t mind it.

On this particular day, you’re lounging in the sun, watching Noir and Ka’ra play together, while CX is sparring with Ordo (only the Nulls aren’t hesitant about sparring with CX, which is sad, but understandable).

You enjoy watching him spar largely because he tends to spar shirtless.

You’re allowed to be a simple woman when it comes to your soulmate, right?

“Watching them again?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your musing, and you tilt your head back to look up at the familiar man approaching you. “You could join them.”

“Hardly, if Ordo so much as scratched me, both Noir and CX would rip him to shreds.” You pat the ground next to you, “Have a seat, Tech. No need to hover.”

“He still wishes to be called CX?” Tech asks as he sinks to the ground next to you.

“It’s his choice.” You reply easily, “How was your physical therapy?”

“Painful,” Tech replies, matter-of-factly, “However, my healer believes that I am getting to the point where I will no longer need to see them.”

“That’s something. Are you thinking of reaching out to your brothers? Or your soulmate?”

“I am…unsure.”

“Oh?”

“I died.” He says bluntly, wincing as CX manages to flip Ordo onto his back, “I died, and my soul bond is weaker than it was before.”

“I assume your doctor has an opinion on that.”

“Of course. He says that I just need to reach out to Phee.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Tech anxiously adjusts his glasses, “What if she has found someone else?”

“Do you really think that she would?”

“...she is a beautiful and clever woman. Any man would be lucky to have her—” Tech starts.

“You’re borrowing trouble, Tech. You need to call her.”

Tech opens his mouth to reply but stops as CX jogs over.

You smile up at him adoringly, and offer him his water bottle, “Having fun, love?”

He smirks, “Ordo is bitching because I managed to flip him. So we’re having a round two.”

“Of course you are.”

He flashes a tiny grin at you and crouches so he’s able to kiss you quickly before he jogs back over to the sparring ring. His training was so different from his brothers, you can tell based on the scars covering his body, and based on the fact that he’s not quite as solid as Ordo and the other Nulls.

Not that any of that matters to you.

You love him as he is.

“It does not make sense to me how someone as kind as you ended up with someone like him,” Tech admits, “He intimidates everyone, and lashes out when pushed.”

“I’ve never been afraid of him.” You reply with a small grin, “Even when he killed someone in front of me, even when he loses his temper.”

Tech shakes his head, “I believe I understand.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“You are just as insane as he is.”

You aren’t able to help that laughter that bursts from your lips, “I suppose,” You say through your giggles, “that’s one way to view it.”

Tech flashes a crooked smile at you, and then gets back to his feet, “I am going to go send Phee a message, and hope that she forgives me. Enjoy your ogling.”

You fling a handful of grass at him but don’t deny his accusations. 

The spar ends an hour later after it gets too hot for them to continue, and CX makes his way to your side, dropping onto the ground next to you. Immediately his arms slide around your waist and he presses his face against your neck.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you card your fingers through his curls. 

He hums in response, his arms tightening around you, “I’m glad that you don’t mind coming to these.”

“I enjoy watching you spar.”

He pulls his face away from your neck, “You enjoy watching me do anything.” 

“You are ridiculously handsome.” You shift in his grip slightly so you’re able to press your hands against his cheeks, “I’m a lucky lady.”

“Mm, is that right?” CX asks as he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re all sweaty,” You whisper to him. 

“So maybe we should go home,” He offers with an arched brow, “You can wash my hair for me.”

A giggle falls from your lips, “Deal.”

CX grins at you, and crashes his lips against yours, knocking you back onto the grass.

Everything isn’t perfect, CX still needs gene therapy to remove the enhanced aging, not to mention regular therapy to help deal with all of his issues. But so long as you’re together, everything will be fine.

You won’t allow for anything else.

[bekolxeram]

Good morning! (Well, at my place) I've just read your take on fandom, and while I'm personally avoiding most of the cast interviews and stuff, I see your point. I'm just afraid that's too much a voice of reason. Something spread all over the world today, facts do not matter very much. And people really forget that fandom is fun. Anyway, would love to see more of those posts :)

I too usually avoid interviews and stuff, I'm mostly in it for the excuse to unite my love for aviation, disaster documentaries and gay stuff. I'm sure you've stumbled across fandom discourse before and asked yourself "are we watching the same show?" Well, I saw a post about one of the actors "confirming a character's sexual orientation" and I was just wondering if we were reading the same words.

I've seen media literacy, canon vs fanon being brought up numerous times for the last 2 months, but I think I've finally found the right words to describe my gripes with the fandom: the confusion of implication and interpretation.

Maddie pulling Chimney out of the frame in that hotel room then ending up pregnant a few episodes later, implication, it's not the network or the show for explicit sex scenes. Buck making a dirty face while saying the ring cutter was for "other stuff", well what other stuff can you think of? Hen and Chimney hanging out with Tommy at the bar in Bobby Begins Again, would Hen and Chimney knowingly become friends with someone who was still racist and misogynist that they had a problem with? These are all hardly refutable facts that just weren't shown explicitly on screen for whatever reasons.

A male character being emotionally repressed and having trouble dating women on the other hand, could be because he is attracted to men without knowing it, but it also could be due to all sorts of reasons like childhood trauma, religious trauma, trauma from the battlefield, unprocessed grief from on-and-off ex-wife suddenly dying in an accident so any sort of closure is no longer possible etc. Another male character looking after a good kid when his father is trying his best to juggle between raising him and being a first responder, could be because he is romantically interested in said single father and wants to become part of a traditional type of nuclear family unit with the kid, but it also could be just him being kind and empathetic, as he himself grew up with emotionally neglectful and absent parents. You can interpret these things all sorts of ways based on your personal experience, but the show itself doesn't tell you how to frame it, nor does it limits you. Though at the end of the day, other people may interpret the same piece of media in different ways, and that includes the showrunner, the writers and even the actors themselves.

And then there's conflating interpretation with irrefutable explicit fact, like I demonstrated in some of my posts. Like the moment after 7x10 came out, the whole fandom was enshrouded by debates over daddy kink. One side painted Tommy as a sexual predator who exploited Buck's moment of vulnerability to satisfy his own kinks (again, Buck started the daddy thing), the other side defended the rights for gay men to explore sexually whenever they like. Yes, the I know daddy kink is very common among the gay community, but the concept itself has become so mainstream the past few years (I blame Pedro Pascal) that it now vaguely means "an older man who is hot".

After a few weeks of thinking I'm crazy and I lack verbal and reading comprehensions, I finally read the source material behind most of the controversies, and I got things completely different from the mainstream discourse out there? I've never seen anyone from the production of the show explicitly stating or even imply a certain ship would come true? At most, they respect and validate fans' own interpretations of the story, that's it. It doesn't necessarily mean they agree with said interpretation, and it certainly does not invalidate other possibilities.

So here we are, some fans feel betrayed even though they were never promised anything. Other fans get nervous over stuff that is actually just an interpretation of a cast member's interview, which in itself is also an interpretation of their own character, but tutted as absolute fact by some.

Enjoying a piece of media is supposed to be about enjoyment, not like a part-time job, so enjoy the parts you like and ignore the rest. But if you want to participate in the fandom, and you feel anxious anytime there's rumors brewing, tracking down the source might actually bring you more peace.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

The First Meeting

Alright so finally, it appears my tablet is letting me upload. Chapter 7 of Dating App is ready. This chapter just didn't want to write itself and I am still not 100% happy with it. But it is here.

Warnings: None really, just gooey fluff

Prompt List

Master List

Tag List: @pear-1206

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,

It had been three weeks since the two of you shared your first night together, and the following morning had been one of the best in your life. Rafael had made good on his promise to mark you up and then took you out for brunch. In the following weeks you had thankfully managed to see each other more than the previous few weeks, which both sets of coworkers were happy about. Lily especially as you had stopped getting so cranky at people in the library. And you had finally been able to make good on your promise to read to him after he cooks dinner at your apartment. Which the two of you had thoroughly enjoyed, plus the time in bed afterwards was just amazing. The two of you had explored so much getting to know each other’s bodies, and different things the two of you liked and didn’t like. You had both deleted the dating app together the morning after your first time. Each of you privately knowing that you didn’t want anyone else.

“Rafael, I must meet Liv,” you called out to him. Rafael walked out of the home office he had in his apartment to lean against the counter watching you cook dinner.

“Must you now, Chica?” he asked. You turned around from where you were stirring some sauce at the stove.

“Yes I must,” you nodded. “You talk about her a lot, and I know how much she has done to make sure we can spend time together. And I would like to personally thank her. Plus she is your best friend- don’t you dare try to deny that – and I would like to get to know my boyfriends best friend.”

“Boyfriend?” Rafael raised an eyebrow. You froze, spoon raised half way to your mouth when you realised what you said. Neither of you had spoken about terminology or if this relationship was serious, but you had been thinking about it since the first night you spent together. You wanted him to be your boyfriend, you wanted this it be serious. And if you were being really honest, you didn’t want anyone else.

“Oh, um, I mean-” you became flustered. “We haven’t talked about it but…I mean I don’t have to call you that. And I mean if you don’t want this to be serious, or-or if you are not ready to call it serious, we can just pretend I didn’t say that.”

Rafael grinned at you as he walked slowly towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you to him. He placed a kiss on your nose.

“Of course my girlfriend can call me her boyfriend,” he grinned. “I won’t lie I was putting off this conversation but not because I wasn’t ready for this particular talk but because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Then I guess this can be considered that particular conversation,” you perked up bouncing a little as you wrapped your arms around his neck to place a kiss on his lips. “Boyfriend.”

Rafael smiled endearingly at you before letting you go, you turned back to the stove to continue cooking. He stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned against your back watching you cook.

“So, meeting Liv,” you pressed. “Please?”

“Of course I want you two to meet,” Rafael smiled. “I’ll see if I can organise something with her for the weekend.”

“Maybe I could cook something?” you suggested. “Or do you think it would be better if we went out?”

“I think something here could be nice, and we can cook something,” Rafael smiled pressing kisses into your neck.

“Sounds good, now get gone before you distract me and I burn our dinner,” you giggled pressing back into him.

 “Keep that up and I’ll be all too happy for dinner to burn and we can buy take out,” Rafael growled.

“I have spent too much time on this!” you pouted. “And we are going to eat this.”

“Alright, alright,” Rafael backed away a cheeky smile on his face with his hands held up in surrender.

“Good man,” you wagged a finger at him. “Besides I know you have a case file to go through, dinner will be another…thirty minutes maybe.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” Rafael sent one wink your way before disappearing back into his home office.

--

“Oh, by the way you’re coming to my place for lunch on Saturday, Chica wants to meet you and wants to cook for you,” Rafael said just as Liv was about to leave his office. She paused, turned around with an eyebrow raised and crossed her arms.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Liv asked. “I could have had plans.”

“But you don’t,” Rafael shrugged. “Otherwise you would have mentioned them by now.”

“They could have been made last night or this morning,”

“Is this you trying to get out of meeting my girlfriend? I’m a little offended by that,”

“Girlfriend? So, it’s official?” Liv grinned walking back to the desk. “And no, I have been dying to meet her for ages, this is me being offended that you just assumed I was free.”

“Yes, we made it official last night,” Rafael’s tone briefly switched from the teasing scorn he had been using moments before to the normal soft, sweet tone he tended to use when talking about you. “Well, then you shouldn’t have an issue with coming to mine on Saturday for lunch.”

“I hate you,” Liv muttered. “Fine, Saturday, I’ll get there at 11:30. No complaints, and I’ll bring wine, does she prefer red or white.”

“No you don’t,” Rafael looked back at the paperwork on his desk. “She prefers red, I believe she is making a chicken dish.”

“Sounds delicious,” Liv grinned walking out of his office without any further conversation.

--

You were busy running around Rafael’s apartment, he had spent the morning cleaning it while you cooked lunch and prepared the dessert. You were putting the finishing touches on the table he had, as well as placing a few reed diffusers around the place, to make it more relaxing.

“Babe, she has been to my apartment before you know,” Rafael smiled watching as you nervously fluffed the cushions on the couch, rearranged the fake flowers on the coffee table before checking on the chicken again. He trailed behind you.

“Yes but never to meet me,” you said over your shoulder. “What if she doesn’t like me? What if the food isn’t good?”

“Sweetheart, look at me,” Rafael tugged you to him, cupping your cheeks. “Liv already likes you, the food you make is always amazing and she will love it.”

You opened you mouth to say something else but he cut you off with his lips, pressing against yours softly. He continued to kiss along your cheeks drawing a smile from you and helping to calm you down. Your arms wrapped his waist, as you leaned forward to kiss him back.

“Better?” he asked as he stroked along your cheeks.

“A little,” you nodded, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You were about to say something else when Rafael’s buzzer went off, you looked towards the clock on the oven you saw that it was just past 11:30, the time Liv told Rafael she would arrive. “Quick, go let her in!” you started pushing Rafael towards his front door.

“Alright, alright Chica,” he laughed, ducking to give you one last kiss before he went to allow Liv access to the building. “Are you going to answer the door with me?”

“I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?” you murmured, looking down as Rafael offered you his hand. You grinned, taking it and linked your fingers together as you waited by the door to let Liv in.

“I’ll do the introductions,” Rafael promised kissing the hand holding his. Not a moment later there was a knock at his door.

You felt your stomach knot in nerves at the sound, Rafael squeezed your hand once before letting it go to open the door. You had seen a picture of Liv on Rafael’s phone once or twice but those photos did not do the woman on the other side of the door any justice. She was stunning and had such a presence about her. You instantly felt safe in her presence.

“Liv,” Rafael smiled reaching forward to hug her before stepping aside and inviting her in. He shut the door behind her before stepping back to your side. “Liv this is y/n, chica this is Olivia Bensen.”

“It is so good to finally meet you,” Liv smiled, her eyes lighting up as she looked you. She held a bottle of wine that she quickly passed to Rafael. “Are you a hugger?”

“Same here, Rafi, talks about you a lot,” you grinned, the nerves slowly leaving your stomach. “And yes, I very much so am a hugger.”

Liv’s grin widened as she stepped closer to you and wrapped you up in a hug, squeezing you gently. Her hug had you feeling like you were wrapped up in warmth, you felt incredibly safe and secure in the older woman’s hold. You squeezed her back before letting her go, looking over at Rafael to see that soft little smile he has whenever he is happy and content, on his face as he looked at two of his favourite people. You had mostly been nervous about what happen if you meet Liv and she didn’t like you, she was such an important person in Rafael’s life, the only person who was more important would be his mother. And the thought of meeting her made you feel like nearly fainting.

“Right, lunch is just about ready, why don’t you two take a seat at the table, Rafael could you pour the wine?” you asked. “That should give it time to breathe.” You quickly hustled into the kitchen leaving the other two to make their way to the kitchen table.

“She is adorable,” Liv gushed quietly watching you check on the chicken dish and finishing up a few other things to have with the dish, she could just hear you quietly humming. “And that food smells delicious, can’t believe I finally get to taste her cooking. The others will be so jealous.”

Rafael grinned as he opened the bottle of wine and placing it in the middle of the table to let it breathe.

“Well, Chica was rather insistent that I introduce the two of you,” Rafael grinned. “I wanted to keep her to myself for a little bit longer but…I’ve recently discovered that I can’t say no to her.”

“I can see why,” Liv smiled at her best friend, while yes she was incredibly smug about being right about going on the dating app, mostly she was just glad that Rafael was happy. And probably the happiest she has ever seen him. “You know the others will want to meet her even more once they find out that I have.”

“Yes, well, they can wait longer,” Rafael huffed, though Liv could see that he loved the fact that the team was excited to meet his woman and he enjoyed the teasing the team gave him. He once told her that it made him feel like he was really part of the team and that the others genuinely did enjoy spending time with him, as he had seen them teasing each other for a while before they started doing the same to him.

“I’m going to help her,” Liv declared. She wanted to talk with you without Rafael around.

“I wouldn’t, she has this thing about guests helping,” Rafael told her but let her wonder into the kitchen regardless.

“Y/n, is there anything I can do?” Liv asked standing out of your way as you pulled some plates out of the microwave.

“Oh, no, don’t be silly,” you waved her away. “You are a guest, and it is nearly done.”

“I can at least help you carry the plates out,” Liv insisted.

“Rafael did mention that you were stubborn,” you laughed giving in, you watched her out of the corner at your eyes, checking to see if Rafael was anywhere near. “I actually did want to thank you, for getting Rafael on that dating app, and running interference for the first few dates we had.”

“Of course,” Liv said. “Rafael is a very important person to me, and I want him to be happy.”

“…I want him to be happy as well,” you whispered, eyes down at the plates you were currently serving the food onto.

“Well, I haven’t seen him this happy, ever,” Liv told you coming to stand beside you, grinning when you flushed at her statement.

“I was a little worried meeting you,” you confessed. “You’re his best friend, even if he won’t ever admit it.”

“I was a little nervous as well,” Liv assured you.

“Well, you needn’t worry, I liked you before even meeting you,” you giggled. “It was the moment he said you would be smug about the fact that he met someone on the dating app he didn’t want to go on.”

Liv smiled at you about to open her mouth when Rafael’s voice called out.

“How long are you two going to gossip about me?”

“Not much longer!”

“As long as we want to, love!”

“I never should have allowed you two to meet,” you could hear him muttering to himself.

You and Liv were still giggling as you brought in the plates, along with another plate that had nicely warmed bread rolls. You both rolled your eyes when you saw him pouting in his seat, as you placed his plate down in-front of him you pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Oh stop pouting, Mr Lawyer,” you scolded him, dropping enough to whisper in his ear. “Or no dessert later.”

Rafael grinned up at you, his eyes darkened promising that dessert would be happening. Liv pretended not to witness the moment between the two of you. Her heart swelled to witness it, and it made her miss Tucker a little. The three of you picked up the wine that Rafael had poured while you and Liv were in the kitchen and clicked them together before taking a sip.

“Oh, that is a nice wine, Olivia,” you hummed. “I’ll have to take a picture of the label.”

“It was one that I got in Paris with Ed,” Liv smiled. “And please call me Liv.”

“You went to Paris?” you asked eyes wide. “Oh, I never did get to travel much out of England when I was over there.”

“Paris was amazing,” Liv said. “Have you wanted to go?”

“Always, it looks so romantic,” you sighed. “I always dreamed about waking up and walking to a café to have breakfast with the Eiffel Tower visible and then go to a park and just read in the shade of a tree.”

Liv threw a look at Rafael raising her eyebrows in a little wiggle before focusing on you again. Noting the far away look in your eyes and how they would slightly shift to Rafael before looking away, cheeks heating a little under the beautiful light make up you wore.

“Well, I hope you get go one day,” Liv picked up her knife and fork trying a piece of the beautiful cooked chicken. “Oh my god, this is delicious. Rafael how dare you keep her cooking from us every time you bring it to the station.”

“Rafi, how rude,” you teased winking at Liv. “Thank you, I’m very glad you like it. You’ll have to take some left overs.” Rafael didn’t even bother responding just stuffed some more food in his mouth, rolling his eyes but he still sent you tender looks, as his foot reached out to touch yours.

“Don’t have to offer twice,” Liv tucked back into the meal.

Rafael was watching you as he ate, plans and thoughts running through his head a million miles an hour. He however wasn’t sure if his plans were too soon to be thinking about, if asking you to go on a holiday with him should wait until maybe the 6 month mark. You had only been seeing each other for just under two months, but he could see the two of you in Paris together, having breakfast, reading a book in a park, going to museums and palaces, he would take you to all the wineries and buy you as many bottles as you wanted.

“So, Y/n,” Liv started interrupting Rafael’s train of thought. “How has Rafael been treating you?”

“Really Liv?” Rafael asked taking a sip of his wine. “With me in the room?”

“Aw, what’s the matter, worried what she may say?” Liv asked.

“No,” Rafael reached out and took your hand bringing it to his lips to kiss the knuckles, enjoying that that action can still make you flush.

“He’s been absolutely amazing,” you gushed. “Of course he teases and taunts but I give as good.”

“I don’t tease, Chica,” Rafael huffs.

“Darling, don’t lie, that’s a horrible habit for a prosecutor,” you stroked your fingers across his wrist and up his palm. “But in all seriousness, Rafael has treated me with nothing but respect, he is the sweetest man I have met. Always making me feel comfortable and adored. He has made me the happiest I have ever been.”

Rafael felt his heart stutter in his chest at your words, he knew that you were happy with him but didn’t realise the extent that he made you happy. He couldn’t look away from you, not even caring that Liv was witness to this little moment the two of you were having. He loved how you were never afraid to say what you were thinking and that you never hid your feelings.

“How cute,” Liv cooed a little, thoroughly enjoying this moment. “I was hoping for more to tease Rafi on but I will take this adorable little moment.”

“That’ll come when he isn’t here,” you promised. “Maybe we could grab coffee or cocktails?”

“That sounds fantastic, would you like to meet Amanda?”

“Yes I would! Rafi doesn’t talk as much about Amanda but I would love to meet the rest of the team,” you grinned sitting up, ignoring Rafael’s whine of complaint.

“There goes keeping you to myself for longer,” Rafael muttered, though his eyes showed that he was happy that you were excited to meet his friends and colleagues, he had lent towards you his hand taking yours again. You grinned at him, rolling your eyes at the childish behaviour from him. “I still get all of your food first though.”

“Fine I promise,” you sighed sending a grin towards Olivia as he raised your hand to his lips again, you thought you saw her phone pointed at the two of you but couldn’t be sure so you let it go.

[vampireslovedeepseafishing]

finished the outlaw barbie game and have cried non-stop over arthur morgan ever since

[jawnjendes]

wowwwwwweeeeeeee

[youremyonlyhope]

.

[cassis2006]

might commit atrocities actually !

[onrainynights]

I love adderall <- guy who has been on adderall for one day

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[sapsolais]

<3

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m so fucking annoyed with myself today

[a-b-riddle]

Part 2

Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.

For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.

Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.

Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.

For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.

But it wasn't.

And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.

Did they still want this?

The answer was clear.

You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.

Jesus.

A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.

You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.

You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.

Kyle.

Fuck.

Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.

Maybe that was just as bad.

What are you up to today?

That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.

You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.

E-mail the publisher back.

Change the locks.

You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.

No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.

So you didn't respond.

You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.

You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.

You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'

It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.

Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.

But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.

You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.

You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.

Fuck.

That almost got you.

You almost answered it.

Almost.

You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.

And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.

Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.

Not that you would really hear it again...

Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.

On my way. We need to talk.

It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.

The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.

Not my taste, Dove.

Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.

I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.

Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.

The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.

Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.

Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.

You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.

You just hoped you didn’t regret it.

[hua-fei-hua]

*squints out the window at the morning sun* it is Imperative that i be adopted by more femslashers

[riaki]

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….