#i NEVER knew that i might try this sometime

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.2)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (Bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

pt.1 ♡

m.list

When the war was on his full climax, you were almost in the main focus of it, trying to protect the other kids from your orphanage. They were little compared to you. The nurses that usually carried them were dead under the debris from the old building that was your orphanage before Shigaraki and the others from the league broke it down. You saw a lot of people that you knew and cared for, die.

Aizawa Sensei found you because the twins were crying on your arms. You tried to soothe them, but you were scared as well.

He stood in front of you, taking a piece of metal with his own hands to take you out. He had lost his eye and a leg, but he was still putting some resistance to the villains.

You remember how he took your hand to let you out. You were only seventeen at that time, and he took you to the parademics so they could take a look on the twins that were barely five months.

They put you in UA shelter with them.

After the war ended, the twins were adopted by a couple who were in the shelter with you, they helped you to take care of them and they ended up falling in love with their squishy faces and contagious laugh.

The first night you spent alone was the worst. Everyone was returning to their homes because even if the place they lived was destroyed, they had a place to return to. You didn't, so you stayed behind.

One of the countless mornings spent there all by yourself, a knock in the door, startled you.

"Hey"

The man who saved you and the twins was there in your door. You were certain that he was there to kick you out, but instead, he invited you to take a coffee with him.

You weren't feeling talkative at all at first. He was doing most of the chat, and you could visibly notice that he was making an extreme effort on that.

He asked you where you lived before the war, and you told him all your life. Since your parents died in a monstrous car accident until the moment he found you. You told him about the awakening of your quirk and that you wanted to be a hero one day, not knowing that he could pull all the possible strings to make that happen.

He tested you and asked you to show him your quirk.

With his stoic face and all, he was amused really with the facility that you used your quirk without having any training before.

Stardust. He had never seen something like that before.

The dust came right off your skin like little sparkles that mainly conducted fire and electricity. You explained to him that at first you thought that only worked if you detached from your skin and someone lit it on fire with a match or a lighter but then you realized that you could also rub it between your fingers or in your arms and legs and it will generate flames.

He saw all the possibilities of your quirk evolving. He knew what he had to do.

Pitifully, you were behind compared to the ones that were in the heroic classes. They had already fought a war. He started to teach you by himself, and sometimes he asked all might and present mic to help him too. He did a pretty good job training you.

The day that College UA started to take applicants, you were there, the first one on being accepted. Aizawa invited you to a fancy restaurant to celebrate. He spent almost two years training you and getting to know you, and he saw much further than what was on the exterior. He saw kindness and an unfair world for an orphan girl with your talent. He was torn on the inside because of that, so he took the matter in his hands, and in between courses, he extended to you the adoption papers.

Now you were two years into UA college, being one of the first in class and excelling in every kind of training. He was proud of you.

In the meantime, you were hoping that he was still proud of you.

You were outside his office, pacing around before he answered your text, asking where he was. He was working because in his apartment (that was on campus too), he couldn't focus.

The door was in the reach of your arm waiting for you to knock it, but you were scared. What would he tell you? Would he be mad? Because it was obvious that he already knew about it. He did lose an eye in war, but he had eyes everywhere.

Shota: I can hear you outside the door, come in already.

The text in your screen didn't do any better.

You turned the knock and peered between the door and the lintel.

"You are quiet as a mouse," he said sarcastically, folding some papers in his desk.

"Completely lame of you working on Sunday," you walked towards him and settled in the chair that was in front of him.

"I fall sleep at home every time I try to grab your class' tests"

"Oh, so you prefer falling asleep here instead?" You tried to joke your shame away, and it did its effect when Aizawa smiled a bit.

"Don't be brat," he warned lowly, and you rolled your eyes.

Before you could say anything or even start to form a sentence about what happened, he slid some papers on his desk to you.

"What's this?" You questioned, and he motioned for you to grab them and open the folder.

Unwrapping the envelope, you slid your fingers to grab the thin papers to get them out.

"Bakugo Katsuki, medical records," you read out loud, and instantly bright colors rose to your cheeks. "Is this- Is this legal?" You talked more to yourself than to him.

"I'm his teacher, and he took this two weeks ago. Let's be grateful that he forgot that he had to renew his medical tests for this year too"

"I thought that these papers were exclusively to the medical wing." You paused your reading because you felt like you were violating his privacy.

"Yeah, but I know how to pull my strings," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Recovery girl" you huffed. "I swear that lady loves you"

You ignored all about his heart surgery and went straight to the blood tests to read only what you needed to know. After everything was more than clear and a heavy lift was completely off of you, you gave the papers back to Aizawa.

"Lesson learned?" he asked, and you nodded. "I was young once too and..."

"Please don't. I know how the story of bees and flowers goes, " You cut him off quickly.

"Well clearly"

You wanted to die.

"What I want to tell you, I know you feel like this is going to end you, but it's not. I'm proud of you anyway. With whom you prefer to have some sort of relationship is your choice, not mine. If you want to be with Bakugo-

"Okay, okay, stop," your seat squelched because of yoù abruptly moving it back. "Nothing is going to happen again. I was drunk and-"

"It was consented, right?" He was about to become berserker.

"Yeah, totally. I was drunk but not that drunk. See Jirou and Denki went very out of their minds preparing the cosmopolitans and-"

"And you love cosmopolitans," he said catching on your story.

"Exactly, I do, so I wasn't gonna say no to them, and then one thing turned to another, and he was kissing me, and -" You went over verbal.

"Okay, now you gotta stop," he pinched above his nose, in between his eyes.

It was comical and ironic seeing you two trying to figure out the conversation.

"You wanted to know!" You pointed out.

"Not all of it!"

"Fine, fine. I better go. Thanks for this. I hope you don't get in trouble"

"Sure, I'm still proud of you, and I'll see you later for dinner. Eri wants to see you. " he came back to grading his test.

"I'll be there"

That was awkward. But at least now you knew that Bakugo wasn't lying about being clean.

The same afternoon, after you went for lunch with Jirou, you were running some errands for college when the lovely smell of recently made coffee tickled your nose.

The cafeteria was open, and it was full of students trying to wake up their minds to absorb some knowledge. Lucky for you, you o ly wanted coffee because you were craving it.

You beelined to the cashier and asked for your drink, and while you were waiting for them to hand it to you, you could hear someone behind you clearing their throats.

Fucking hell please please please make a hole in the ground at your feet and swallow you whole.

"If it isn't my number one fan"

You rolled your eyes until the practically disappeared inside your skull.

"Can't we not?" You tapped your fingers against the counter.

"I think you owe me an apology," Bakugo said, changing the playfully and sarcastic tone to something more serious and pissed.

"For what?" You were still trying not to face him because the mere fact of what you said in front of his friends made you cringe.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." he gripped your shoulder and moved you, so now you were face to face with him. Ugh, he looked mad. "I didn't like what you said, everyone is talking about my dick"

He was so rough with the words and all, so you weren't much surprised because he was talking so bluntly in a crowded place.

"Well, let's see it this way, they are going to think that I'm lying so that would lead to make them think that we never actually fucked so problem solved, it's a win win" you explained without thinking much of it but it actually made kinda of sense.

"No, that's not going to do," he denied, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He was wearing a wife beater in the middle of autumn. He was nuts. "Tell a friend about how you lie and spread the rumor yourself. It's not that hard"

"I think you're only messing with me, I can't believe the Bakugo Katsuki cares about what people think" you grabbed your drink after the bartender yelled your name and Bakugo followed you like a puppy. "If you care so much, I don't know, leak a nude or something. I aint telling shit, " you said almost in hurry because you were getting out of clever responses and because he was almost fuming, you didn't want it to get caught in a fire with him being the main source.

How would you explain that to Aizawa?

...

Something changed in Katsuki after the war. He never had experienced love in his life, let alone a fling or just romance in general. Was it worth it? Having someone to cling on knowing that something as sporadic as a war could break it all? For him, it wasn't worth the shot.

He was a grumpy kid with behavioral problems when he started UA High School. He hated most of his classmates (especially Midoriya), and he also truly believed that he was above everyone. He just wanted to be hated, and he didn't care.

With the years passing by, the war, his heart problems, and everything, he tried to calm himself down. He undervalued his classmates, and now he felt like they were all worth his time at least. He still thinks that he's above everyone, but he uses it as fuel when one of them challenge him.

His first year as a college student, he realized that heroics could be more than just training and superpassing the others. He still trained in hardcore mode, but he also made time to other activities, like hiking and flirting.

The best thing about flirting and fucking it was that he didn't need to be involved with the other person so he didn't have to make an effort to talk about anything, he liked his privacy.

"That little bitch sweep the floor with you the other day" a boy who was in the changing room with him said like they were friends. Bakugo didn't do "friends" either. He had his former class as equals, and that's it, and the guy who was in front of him flexing his abs wasn't one of them.

"Don't call her that," he grunted, almost annoyed.

Bakugo had manners himself and her mom taught him good about treating women. You did sweep the floor with him, but that wasn't a good excuse to call you that. The guy realized where Bakugo drew the line and without making any sound he left the room.

"That was manly." Kirishima appeared, drying his hair with a towel. "I thought you would agree with that fucker"

"F'course not," he rolled his eyes. "She seems fearless. She had the guts to embarrass me in front of you and didn't even flinch when I bit back, impressive" he muttered the last part to himself. "I saw her again at the cafeteria today, she kicked me straight in the sack with her smart mouth again"

He wasn't good with words, but in the last years compared to his high school years, he realized that Kirishima was his man to trust so he started to loosen up a bit when it came to talking to him.

"Yeah, I never expected to be in the front row when someone kicked your ass, verbally." Kirishima sat next to Bakugo and didn't miss the lost look on his friend's face. "What's going on? Do you care about what she said?"

"No, not at all." he shook his head, pretending that the movement would stop the itching on his head when he remembered how pented up you looked. "It's just, I don't know, I can't get her off my head"

"Maybe it's just a recessive thought provoked by the fact that no one has ever talked back to you thag way, especially after the act, like they all seemed very compliant running their tongues to spill the details, I think it's just because she seemed-"

"Regretful," Bakugo completed with a huff.

"Yeah, I was thinking a better word, tho." Kirishima scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little pity for his friend. He had never seen him like that.

Was it something to be worried about? Well, maybe not, but the gears turning in his brain about you, about how to address the situation, about how you made him feel and how to make you pay, oh man, that was truly something to be concerned about.

End note: Hey, me again! I know this isn't what you expected because of course, you wanted more interaction. Still, I thought that we needed a little background first because reader wasn't present at a time when Bakugo was in high school since UA college is a continuation of it. For me, it's super funny the idea of UA college, because the college I go to has the same name, anyway, I can assure you that the next chapter is going to be better I swear.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

taglist: @kiridagremiln @aefillor @screechingfangirlaf @chuugarettes @gold24fish @dreamcastgirl99 @andyetshewrote @budibbly @candiiee @linkfromskywardsword @galaneiaeris @fantasynerd05 @big-denki-energy @3thr3al @marsbars09 @whatswrong7 @scaranthropy @cc1306 @junehasnotbeenfound @jeanbabygirl @pirana10 @sappho-the-kitten-tamer @ahbeautifulexistence @polarbvnny @th0tformikasa @surprisemodafakas @xxjesshuxx @katsuisbaby @azzo0 @atashiboba @azzo0 @berryvioo @hiimsaraandyou @bizzybkd @regrexx @justsinri @slut-4-gojo @bexxs @lemuhr @monkeycheeks-lvl26 @tsukikoxo @sikuthealien @mia-luvs @dondeh-zedonutqueen @the-queen-yn @stardream14 @pretty-sparkle-bomb @itzjustj-1000 @m-atcha-tea @liluvtojineteyam @shosuki @v3n7s @yoyolovesdaiki @jenna-sakura @femi12hhf @aejabba @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @daddyissxes @bunniparadise @longestline @buggie07 @simp-plague @seabass17 @ggffjdyb @seabass17 @natsuki2307 @turmoil-ash @fictonal-men-dum @gold24fish @anonomouswriter-blr @thedondiva45 @maddyb-rapps

[uranometrias]

wait for your love, spencer reid (pt. 2)

this is the second part to this. tysm for all the love on the first part, as well as all the new follows. this literally took so long, and i'm literally so sorry. i suck, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. xx

you can read the alternate version for jj right here.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: following the dismissal of the case against the bureau, you're trying to get back into the swing of things. that moment of realization that comes with discovering the love you feel for someone else isn't reciprocates is never fun. but it's a truth you're meant to accept nonetheless, with a bit of help from your dearest friend spencer, you find that through a conversation about the realities of music and their hidden messages getting the courage to move on is not quite as difficult as you might have initially thought. especially when there's someone like spencer reid waiting on the other side. except of course, things always get difficult when it seems now as you're moving on, the past object of your desires is believed to feel the same way you always have.

content warnings: this is the sequel to angst lol. it's still very kind of angsty, but not as bad! it doesn't exactly end with spence/reader running off into the distance together, but i think it has a very bittersweet & sort of hopeful ending, which i felt made the most sense for a storyline like this. sometimes people have feelings for people that don't like them back, and sometimes it's just something we have to deal with.. sad but true. && i didn't want spence to seem like a rebound for reader, so i tried to go the route of her slowly putting the pieces together that maybe spence had romantic feelings for her && going from there. still spencer somewhat confesses his feelings for reader, hints that hotch might actually like reader, jj/reader reconciliation, because it needed to happen soz! she might have feelings for y/n too idk... she's kinda pulling everybody. this feels kinda melodramatic, but also idk i want epic romance vibes so i tried my best xx

i also love how hotch was such a focal part of this story and never physically showed up once... hmm.

tagged the people that asked for part 2 xx

@stvrlitsky , @cocopuff213 , @aaronhotchnerlover , @ofagathachristies , @blurpleuni-squid , @wolf-phoenix-lover , @babyspiderling , @queermaxwooo , @jihyowrrld , @minkyungseokie , @silentjudger , @btskzfav , @barbeddreams , @ah-blossom , @darker-december

It had been about a week since the court proceedings, you'd been more than a little surprised to find that you all managed to walk away scot free. You still hadn't managed to work up the courage to place your resignation papers on Hotch's desk, probably because you still hadn't gotten up the strength to face him or anyone else for that matter. You weren't outwardly abrasive, you'd offer small nods of greeting when you showed up in the morning, waves as you left.

But everyone knew that it wasn't the same.

Penelope had been trying to get you out for a night of bonding with her, Emily, and JJ, and you'd been keen on turning her down. You don't think you were quite there yet, the wound however surface level was still fresh. Looking at Emily, only reminded you of your grief, how much you had missed her. Looking at JJ only reminded you of how she hadn't had the courage necessary to tell you the truth. You'd tried to take their positions into account, look at things through a different view, but it hardly worked. You just wanted to be left alone.

Spencer was still the only one privy to the thoughts you had about ending your career at the FBI, and everyday he seemed to be holding his breath. It had become a habit to catch him staring at you with his face pinched up like he was deep in thought. It was partially why, even as your eyes skimmed over a file, you knew that he was looking in your direction. "Spence." you mutter quietly, eyes not quite meeting his as you highlighted something of importance in blue.

He sits at attention, back straight, eyes wide. He looked like a puppy that'd been caught doing something bad and was waiting for punishment. "You're doing it again." you exhale, and then you finally manage to peel your eyes from your work, eyebrow raising as you take him in tiredly. "Do you need something?" and he bares down on his bottom lip, almost as if he was thinking over his next move. He stands tall, grabbing hold of his chair and tugging it until it was planted on the other side of yours, before he sat down politely.

"Are you okay?" he's talking quietly, likely to salvage a bit of your privacy. You'd become a bit of a walking attraction in the bullpen, everyone seemed to follow every one of your actions with their eyes. You tap your highlighter against your desk, head tipping to the side as you scrutinize the man. You didn't know exactly what was going on with Spencer, but you had a small inkling, it was nothing more than an internal feeling if you were completely honest about it.

Your sister had been asking about him quite constantly lately, and after learning that day in the courtroom that for some odd reason the duo spoke over the phone, it made you pay a bit more attention to the certified genius than before. "I'm fine, Spencer. Just like I was when you asked me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that." you keep your tone light, not wanting him to think that you were by any means annoyed with him. "What's going on?"

"I guess I keep waiting for you to disappear." he admits, head nodding involuntarily. "You're here right now, and you look fine." he continues, and you like listening to him, even if he was breaking one of the rules, and choosing to profile you. "So shouldn't things feel different? Better at least, like before?" he asks, and you don't expect that. Maybe he wasn't profiling you at all, and instead was expressing himself to a friend. "At least a little bit?" he asks, and you think it over.

"I don't think it'll ever be like before, Spence." and you hate to be the Betty Buzzkill, but it's as true as you can be. "How can it?" and Spencer's eyes jump across the room, landing on Emily who was not so subtly watching the two of you speak. You follow his gaze, and blink harshly when Emily's eyes connect with your own. It forces you to look right back at Spencer. He looks pensive, and you wonder how long he's been working up the courage to say more than 'Are you alright?'

"She was dead... and now suddenly she's not. That's great, but I grieved my friend, and maybe I'm not done grieving the Emily I knew before." and it's the first time you're admitting this aloud. "Our Emily, not the- Interpol Superspy." and you huff. "And look, I know I should be grateful, how many people get back the people they love after death?" and Spencer doesn't answer. "But is she really back? Is she really still our Emily? And how long before she's ready to pack up her stuff and take off? I'm not opening myself up to that again."

Spencer thinks your point is valid, he at one point had insisted that he had the worse abandonment issues on the team, but you had been right there through most of it. You were, in your own way protecting yourself from being hurt again. He couldn't fault you for that, none of them should. "I understand." and truthfully he does, and he's glad that at least you trust him enough to be upfront about it. "There's nothing wrong with shielding yourself from heartache, I just don't want you to close off completely... not from all of us."

You falter, and Spencer hates that he can't just say that he doesn't want you to close off from him. He didn't want this situation to change the way you behaved with him, he couldn't handle losing you.

"I won't." you promise. "And I won't do anything to jeopardize what we do here, I've got enough self control to be civil." you add with a small smile. "I haven't quite decided what a future at the bureau will look like, but I am willing to give things here a chance to get better." and you do love your work, Profiling was something you enjoyed doing, you wouldn't toss it away, unless you absolutely had no other choice. "So you don't have to worry about losing me, Spence." and you hold your breath, mostly because it's a bit audacious on your part.

He offers you a half smile, and you notice the way he visibly relaxes. Still, he doesn't want you to feel obligated to stay somewhere just for his sake, so he feels the need to be honest with you. "I'm not worried." he promises you, and it's a tiny fib, one that could become true if he grew just a touch more confidence. "Even if you did decide to leave one day I would put in the work to keep you in my life." and his smile stretches across his face now, and reaches his eyes. "You're not someone anyone would want to lose." your stomach twists.

"You're not either, Spencer." and you say it firmly, mainly to show just how much you need him to believe it. "I'd just make it my job to take up all your free time outside of work." and his face feels incessantly warm, like he'd stuck his head directly in the stream of scalding shower water. The funny thing about you was that you were oftentimes one of the hardest on the team to read. He figured that because he spent so much time hyper focused on you that he'd get better at it. He still hadn't, and you still managed to leave him stuck.

Comments like the one you just made were common for you, but the meaning behind it always escaped him. Were you flirting with him or were you just being nice? Was it possible that you knew that he had feelings for you? Were you using him as a rebound after the mess you'd found yourself entangled into with Hotch just months ago? The thought of him merely being an emotional rebound made him sad, disappointed, and insecure. But then he's taking in your expression, how despite your confidence you still look shy, and reels it in.

You had never been that sort of person, maybe you were just as oblivious as he was. "I'd be okay with that now." and you look a bit surprised, but also pleased. You nod your head slightly, leaning forward just a little in your seat. Spencer isn't sure if he's moved too quickly, but he's got no room to second guess it now.

"We should do something." it's not at all what he'd expected you to say, and he's surprised, it's more than evident on his face.

"Who? Us? Just the two of us?" he asks, and you find yourself offering him an amused sort of glance.

"Yeah, it could be fun." you insist, and you're not trying to play with his feelings, at least not in the traditional sense. Spencer Reid was no rebound. "It's not often we have days off, you know?" and you lean against your palm, head tipping slightly to the side. "Only if you want." you add, hoping that this addition would make him feel a touch more comfortable. It seems to work, because he untenses just a bit.

"Y-Yeah." he nods his head slightly, hair moving with the action just slightly. "Yeah, we should definitely do something." he agrees, and your smile is bright, clearly pleased at the turn of events. "When would you?" his eyes jump to his watch, and he shakes his head. "Obviously, not right now." he says and you're staring at him a bit bemused, because Spencer Reid was nothing if not a bit unserious.

"There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and you witness Spencer's eyes seem to brighten. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me to look at some vinyls and cd's for my collection, we could just go-" and you're eyebrows are raised, "And see what happens? There's a lot you could do..." you finish, and Spencer's already nodding his head in agreement.

"T-That's..." and he clears his throat, you think to keep you from acknowledging the fact his voice cracked in his nervousness. "Yeah, I don't mind that at all." he agrees politely. "Did you know that in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, record stores only sold gramophone records, but over time they've sold other formats like eight-track tapes, compact cassettes, and compact discs." his hands curl into one another as he relays this message and you snort.

"Did you know that there's a national record store day? It started back in 2008." and he's a bit surprised that you're shooting him a fact of your own, and one that he wasn't actually aware of.

"Really?" he questions, and your eyes sort of crinkle, smile broadening enough to show off both rows of your teeth.

"Don't tell me that I know something the brilliant Doctor Reid doesn't." you tease, and his eyes roll, though his entire demeanor remains lighthearted. "So, what's your poison?" you sidestep, but just barely, your work ignored as you focus all your efforts on keeping this conversation with Reid going.

"My poison?" and his mind of course drifts to alcohol, a bit of a confusing pivot in the conversation. "I don't really see myself as much of a drinker." he admits truthfully, and he's confused when you're laughing, hand flying up to cover your mouth as his face contorts.

"I meant your favorite music genre." you correct. "And I know you're partial to classical," and you try not to stretch your eyes. "It's great when I need to concentrate, but I wouldn't exactly say I'm dying to put on Bach and Tchaikovsky in a regular setting." you explain, both hands resting against your cheeks as you await the hopefully longwinded answer he'd have to give you.

"What if that's my only answer?" he asks, and you scoff.

"It's not." you deadpan, and he exhales through his nose. "I know you and Morgan have that understanding about music..." you explain, head cocked to the side. "He got you to listen to Nas." you remind him as he purses his lips at the reminder. "And Garcia's always sending music recommendations." you proceed as Spencer shoots you a look that clearly reads 'What's your point?'.

"Are you really telling me that out of every genre of music that's ever been released to the entire world, the only genre that's ever stood out to you is the one where old men sit behind a piano and twinkle the keys to their hearts content?" Spencer's releasing another one of those quiet laughs, this one is clearly full of exasperation though.

"I think they're doing a little bit more than twinkling keys." he corrects you, and you know that. You'd only said it to get under his skin just a little, he was fun to mess with. "Classical music is one of the only genres that seemingly does so little and is able to express the full spectrum of human emotion and life experience." he explains, and you fight your smile, leaning in just a bit more to show you were focused. You weren't sure what was happening or if anything was really happening at all, and it was all in your mind.

But you were finding that you didn't mind just listening to Spencer go on and on about whatever he wanted. You thought a lot about what had happened outside of that court room, how he'd listened to you. Really listened to you, and had never once made you feel like the emotional failure you'd imagined yourself to be. You couldn't say that in the span of a week all of your feelings for Hotch had vanished. That'd be bullshit, because deep down you knew it wasn't that easy.

And sometimes you wished it could be, sometimes you wondered why you had to fall for Hotch when Spencer was right there.

Still, whether or not you were being forced to come to grips with the fact that Hotch was not, and wouldn't ever love you the way you loved him, you couldn't deny that it was nice to have a friend there. Spencer wasn't coming to you with heavy confessions and tear-streaked cheeks begging you to look and see that he was perfect for you, which is why you think you like him even more. You knew a lot of times it was hard, rare even to find someone who would just care for you without expecting anything in return. That was Spence to a T.

"Go on." you instruct, and you find that despite the way you'd baited him into this conversation, it was well worth it. He didn't get a lot of time to just be Spencer, and with no clock over your heads, no rush for time to solve a case, you figured it was the least you could do. Especially after he'd spent the last week trying to show you how much he cared.

"I just mean that in classical music, it's actually very common to have one piece of music encompass an entire host of emotions, experiences, and subject matter." he expresses, and you hum, nodding along. "And it's all because most classical pieces use a similar formula that uses textures, dynamic colors and key modulations to express things certain words can't properly articulate." he proceeds. "That's why certain sounds and notes manage to adduce certain reactions." he seems finished.

"Oh, yeah?" you press and he nods limply, seemingly awaiting the moment you offer some jab regarding his oversharing. "I guess Mozart and Beethoven were really onto something." you mutter, and he snorts. "Still, I'd much rather listen to something a bit more obvious." you admit, not that you had a real problem with Classical Music.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm just saying... music's always sort of been the perfect tool for expressing everything you might need to say." you counter. "And while I agree that music in any form does a great job of invoking certain emotions, sometimes you don't want to guess what someone means." you admit, and it's partially (mostly) because you had never been good at reading in between the lines. Things always made the most sense when they were plainly spelled out.

"Or maybe that's just a me thing." you correct. "I've found that I always enjoy things when they're a little more laid out... there's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right?" you ask and Spencer's lips curve down into a slight frown. He's not pitying you, mostly just sympathizing with how torn up you must have been about everything. Especially as your eyes instinctively are drawn to the shut doorway of Hotch's office. Spencer thinks that's when reality sets back in and hits him like a brick.

Because he knew something that you didn't. Something that would probably make everything better for you, but would undoubtedly double his heartache. In truth, he, much like everyone else on the team tried their hardest to ignore just how obvious you'd been about your feelings for hotch. spencer more than anyone.

He remembered how things had changed a few months back, how you'd started to move on all for the rug to be pulled from up under your feet. It had been outwardly cruel, undoubtedly. because while everyone else on the team seemed to be just fine with 'don't ask, don't tell', Spencer had been unable to not pay attention to the way Hotch had actually changed too. Did he hate him? Absolutely not... and he knew you didn't either, because despite how idiotic the plan was, he hadn't done much besides give you more attention.

And Spencer guessed the act of giving you more attention had unsurprisingly ended with Aaron Hotchner realizing it was something he actually enjoyed. Hence the sudden change their boss underwent.

He supposed that was the worst part about it all, the fact that everyone had the right to tell you that "nothing had happened", and there was nothing you could do about it. Because in the grand scheme of things nothing really had happened. Hotch was no heartless womanizer, Spencer couldn't even imagine the man flirting with anyone, let alone stringing someone along for kicks. Still, that didn't change the fact that you'd gotten your hopes up, and now you were back to your own harsh reality.

Not because it wasn't a real possibility, more so because Hotch was self destructive, and sabotaged himself and his happiness at every turn. Spencer wants to stay quiet, to bask in the fact that you were slowly on your own terms getting over Hotch, and paying more attention to him, but he can't do that. He'd hate it if someone did it to him. So instead he decides to throw you a bone, push you in the right direction. "Why haven't you just talked to him?" it's not what he had meant to say. He had meant to play the role of the supportive friend.

He'd wanted to pat you on the back, mumble some agreeance that would validate how you were feeling, and possibly give him cool points. Instead, here he was about to push you in the direction of someone else. He supposed that's how stupid love made you.

"What?" you exclaim, and Spencer doesn't know what's so exasperating about his question. It was obvious that you needed to, it wasn't fair that you were slowly deteriorating on the inside whilst trying to maintain some semblance of being a "team player". He said 'screw the team' if it wasn't genuine. And clearly, from the way you'd still been icing out JJ and Emily, it wasn't. Not fully anyway. He'd never rush you to get over it, mostly because it'd make him a hypocrite. He still cringes at the thought of the tears he'd shed to JJ.

But, that was his own problem.

"Hotch." he lowers his voice a little, because it's just now hitting him that the two of you have been slacking off for a while now. Emily wasn't exactly focused in on the both of you anymore, but every so often, he'd find that she still look up every few moments. JJ, Derek, and Rossi had made a habit of leaving their respective offices, eyes glued to what was apparently becoming unit news. "You should talk to him." he says simply as your eyes cross dramatically.

"What's there to talk about?" you ask suddenly distracted by a smudge on the corner of your desk.

"What happened." he says simply. "I mean, don't you think there might be some explanation you might be missing?" Spencer tries, and you curl into yourself just a little bit.

"It's still work hours and he's still Hotch." you deny, and Spencer's lips push to the side, an obvious sign of his slight discomfort about what he was going to say next. "He's not going to want to talk about it." you admit. "And what exactly do you say in a conversation like that? Oh by the way boss, I was in love with you, and it kinda felt like maybe you felt the same, except oh wait, it was just a ploy to keep me from realizing you were lying about Emily being alive?" you say sarcastically. Spencer huffs in retaliation.

"Yes actually, you could say exactly that. Maybe you'll learn something you didn't know before." he deadpans, and your nose curls. You cut your eyes over at the man, who's not amused.

"I kinda thought you'd be the last person pushing for this sort of confrontation, you know?' you admit before you can really help yourself. You watch as Spencer's face seems to set into one of surprise, his cheeks and neck slowly gaining a red sort of tint to them.

"What do you mean?" he questions, and your mouth parts just slightly. And you think the same way he's been gentle with you is the exact same way you need to be gentle with him, so you pivot, head shaking from side to side.

"Nothing." you say firmly. "Forget about it." you say quietly, and then you're looking back at your paperwork. Spencer, embarrassed finds himself fiddling with his fingers, trying to scold his heartbeat back into submission. It suddenly felt way too cramped sitting at your desk.

"You should go after work." he says, and your eyes snap back to him. "Talk to Hotch after work, I mean." he says and your stomach feels a bit tight. "I think it'll be best." he proceeds, and you frown.

"You do?" you question, and you try not to sound despondent.

"Y-Yeah, I do." he agrees despite his stutter. "Things like this don't go away on their own, you know?" and you chew on the inside of your lip, and feel that gloom cloud from earlier making its way back.

"I thought we were supposed to be hanging out today, Spencer." you start and he blinks owlishly, long lashes nearly caressing the tops of his cheekbones.

"We could always raincheck." he says, and you stare at him just a bit blankly. "It's not like it was a date or anything. They were just plans..." he adds, and your teeth chomp down on your bottom lip. He doesn't really know how to read the look on your face, but he knows that he feels like he's being noble.

"Just plans." you shrug your shoulders dismissively. "Right." and then you pick up your pen. "Well if that's what you want, I guess it's fine by me." you add, body curling into itself as you position yourself away from him.

"Isn't that what you want?" he questions, and you cut your eyes.

"Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" you keep your voice level, but your leg is bouncing. You're not quite sure why, maybe because Spencer was being Spencer. You supposed your comment that made it clear that you knew that he had feelings for you had scared him. Now, he was trying to protect himself, but you weren't so hungry for a relationship that you'd string him along for the sole purpose of getting over Hotch. You would've made this call had you figured it out or not, and you supposed the fact he didn't get that was what sucked. "I'm not that pathetic." you add with a quiet scoff.

"It's not about you being pathetic." he denies. "I don't think that about you., I just know that you're in a vulnerable place. You had real feelings for him, and I think it'd be best for you to get it all off your chest correctly, before you start projecting all those leftover feelings to the first person you can." and he doesn't mean it in the way it sounds. In fact the statistics about rebounds would sound a lot worse, but as usual, he's horrible at communicating exactly what he feels.

You blink. Once, twice, three times.

"I can't believe you just said that to me." you say, and you're abruptly standing up, mostly because you're about to cry like the fucking baby you were. Spencer's certain this is a new record for how quickly things could go left just because he couldn't shut the hell up. What he'd been trying to convey was that after a rejection, it was much easier to mistake platonic feelings for romantic ones. He had been a consistent shoulder for you to lean on since everything went south.

He didn't want you to think that he was being nice to you only because he had feelings for you, and convince yourself that you felt the same all because you refused to fully shut the door with Hotch. But he'd never actually meant to make it seem like you'd be so desperate, and especially not with him. "Y/N, wait. That's not what I meant-" except you're already leaving, taking in the shaky breath that told him he'd stupidly made you cry.

"L/N?" Emily's calling as you pass her, but you don't respond to her either. Instead you're rushing off in the direction of the bathroom, likely to calm yourself down. Emily's eyes are immediately snapping over to Spencer, and her eyebrows are furrowed. He instinctively looks away, internally cursing himself out.

────────────────────────

"Y/N/N?" you're surprised to hear JJ entering the bathroom, and you're hurriedly moving to splash at your face with water to keep it from looking so puffy. Still, JJ was as perceptive as she was pushy, so it's clear she's already put it together that you're crying. "Hey, is everything alright?" she takes on that motherly tone she uses with Henry, and the rest of the team when they're feeling down.

"I'm fine." you insist, and she doesn't look convinced. She takes a tentative step towards you, standing beside the sink you were occupying. "Seriously JJ, please just leave me alone." you partially beg.

"I know you're upset with me, but you're still my friend." she reminds you. "I'm not going to leave you in here when it's clear you're upset." she exclaims. "So you can talk to me or not, but I'm not going anywhere." she deadpans, and you sniffle, rubbing harshly at your cheeks. They're sensitive to the action, blood rushing to your face.

"You're so annoying." you mumble, but there's no bite. It makes JJ snicker, and it's a step in the right direction you're sure.

"It's my job." she retorts with a shrug, and she leans her back against the sink beside you, legs crossing slightly. "Is everything okay?" she tries again, much more gently as you frown. No, everything was not okay. You hadn't actually expected to be sitting here crying over Spencer's remark, but you supposed that the fact he believed you'd ever use him as a rebound had kind of hurt. You supposed it also didn't help that he'd so callously canceled your plans.

You'd actually started to look forward to hanging out with him.

"Do you think I'm desperate?" you question haughtily, and JJ's eyes widen, surprise overtaking her features as she turns to you fully.

"Of course not." she denies firmly, blonde ponytail bobbing with all her intense animation. "What would make you think that?" she pries, and you cut your eyes just slightly.

"You guys could have trusted me with the truth." you counter, and she falls silent. "And even if you couldn't there were so many other ways to keep me from finding out about Emily. Ways that didn't involve making me look like an idiot to the rest of the team." you mumble crossly, and you blink enough that you feel like your lashes are crumpling into your cornea. it forces you to drag a hand over them roughly, rubbing harshly at your eyes until the sensation left.

"That wasn't what we were trying to do." JJ tries, and it doesn't really matter what exactly she was trying to do. What mattered was what had happened. "You know that." she adds, and you think she's trying to appeal to the part of you that knew the type of people she and Hotch were. The ones that had proven their loyalty to the team for years and years. "Is this about Hotch?" she says and you wince because the problem wasn't that simple.

And you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think so.

You weren't some girl that couldn't handle rejection, what bothered you the most was that Hotch and JJ had felt like they couldn't trust you, and it bothered you that Hotch had felt like he had to play along to some stupid fantasy to ensure you'd play your role. And it especially bothered you that you'd mourned your friend Emily and everything you thought you knew about her, and all anyone could focus on was the fact that you liked Hotch and he didn't like you back. As if your entire world stopped all because of it.

"No, it's not about Hotch." you deadpan. "I wish you guys would just stop being so casual about it." you add on as JJ's mouth parts.

"Y/N... it's not really something that you'd ever really been subtle about. Everyone knows." and she's still trying to be gentle, despite the fact that the words still managed to slice at you.

"So that makes what you guys did, okay?" you shoot back. "Is that really the hill you want to die on?" and you're growing crosser. "This isn't about not being liked back by a guy, this is about me believing that the people I spend most of my days with have my back. How are we supposed to be a team when I can't trust you?" you press. "Because you never would have done that to Spence." you add, and JJ blinks, mostly because she doesn't know how to counter that.

"You didn't have to do it to Derek or Rossi or Penelope either." you remind her. "So what was it about me, about this that made your only course of action rubbing salt in a wound that I was doing a damn good job of healing all on my own?"

"I-I don't know." she admits, and you suppose it was an answer.

"Yeah, well I don't know if I have the patience to wait around for you all to figure that out." you mumble.

"What are you saying?" and JJ's blinking a bit more, eyes misty but not quite showing any signs of shed tears.

"I'm saying that before I didn't know if I wanted to stay here anymore. I love my job, but I don't love how it makes me feel now." you say plainly. "When Elle got like that and ignored her gut it got someone shot." you say, and it sounds melodramatic, but it doesn't feel that way at all. JJ gasps, though it's faint. "I just don't want to wait around for that to happen to me." and you inhale sharply, shuddered breath wracking through you as JJ stares at you clearly gobsmacked.

"But-" and she can't quite grasp the words. "You can't just leave." she exclaims, and it sounds like she's pleading. "Look-" and she's starting to sound just a little desperate. "Look we never wanted to hurt you, okay? And-and none of us..." and she stops to make sure she's staring you directly in your eyes. "None of us want to lose you, Y/N." she insists. "I-" and she's shaking her head again. "Please don't do this." and she sounds the same way Spencer did when he said it. Your nose twitches, "We just got the team back together." she mutters.

"JJ, that's not fair." you huff at her, and she's not really trying to be fair. She just doesn't want you to leave.

"I'm so sorry that we hurt you." and while most apologies that start that way are usually rife with deceit, JJ sounds more sincere than she probably ever has before. "And I'm sorry if it feels a little flat, especially with you already having a foot out the door." she sighs, "It wasn't okay, but-but I know how Hotch feels about you. How the entire team feels about you." she reiterates. "We can't do this without you, we can't." she emphasizes sternly. "And maybe that's selfish to bring up, but we all care so much about you." she promises.

You want to cut her off, but she doesn't give you the chance.

Classic JJ.

"Do whatever you need to! Take as much time away as you need, hate us forever if you have to, but please don't- don't walk away from what you do here." she exhales shakily. "And-and for the record, whether it helps or not... we didn't sit around discussing your... feelings for Hotch." she tells you quietly. "It wasn't some master plan that we composed, and-and I don't know... it couldn't have all been fake." she whispers, and you wonder why she's changing her tune, because just last week she was telling you that 'it wasn't real'

"JJ-" you finally manage and she's shaking her head.

"I'm serious." she insists, and your nose crinkles up again.

"Stop." you deadpan. "You're being really mean." you huff, and you begin to click at your nails just slightly. JJ thinks you're a little bit exasperating. Too stubborn for your own good, but she wont push.

"Could you just listen for one second?" she exclaims, and you're pouting as she grows more overwhelmed at it all. "I wouldn't lie to you about this." she insists, and you wonder why she, and Spencer have taken this sort of stance with you. It should make you hopeful, right? Oh, there was some chance that Hotch felt the same way as you. Except you can't be happy about it, because he's not the one that was sitting here telling you this. It was JJ.

What had you told Spencer earlier? 'There's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right', and emotionally exhausted or not, you meant it. Which meant you refused to do the work for him. If he couldn't say it, if he couldn't admit it, than it was as if it wasn't true at all. Which is why you exhale, blinking away whatever bleariness tried to keep itself latched to your eyes. "I love you for trying so hard, but I'd rather you didn't." you instruct sternly.

JJ inhales deeply, audibly expelling the breath from her nose. "That's what you're missing, Y/N." she begins, and she reaches out, hand cupping your shoulder. "I'm not trying to do anything. Everything I've said today I meant. You're important, and you're a lot to lose." she admits. "If you're going to leave, leave because you hate the job, do it because you don't feel fulfilled any longer. But don't let this be what makes you throw in the towel, Y/N." she says and you huff again.

You were doing a lot of that today. "We'll make up for it." she begins, and then she sighs. "I'll make up for it, however long it takes." and you think her pivot from sharing the blame to taking it all for herself makes you feel a little less like you were being ganged up on. She was no longer the spokesperson for everyone involved, and was back to just being JJ, your friend JJ. "Please?" she tries again, and it's not like her to beg, which tells you all you need to know about how serious she was.

"We should get back to work." you mumble, and it's not quite the answer she's expecting, but at the very least it was a promise that you both still had until the end of the day at the very least. She doesn't have the strength to fight her smile, arms looping around you in a move that's much too invasive for your still sour mood, but you don't slight her for it. You instead let her hug you, because obviously it meant a lot more to her than you knew. She'd missed you.

"Alright, alright. That's enough." you tease, moving to lightly push the blonde off of you as she exhales.

"Can you blame me? I thought you were gonna hate me forever." she admits honestly, and you crinkle your nose.

"Guess I'm softer than I thought." you reply, and she waves you off at the remark. Still, despite this slight turn in the direction of your relationship with JJ, you still couldn't feel all that settled. But, you know hiding out in the restroom was by no means the best choice. So when JJ moves to leave, you tail her, surprised when on the other side is a nearly pacing Reid.

"Spence?" JJ exclaims in surprise, the tawny haired man turns to you both. He's immediately looking past JJ to take you in. JJ follows hos gaze and whistles under her breath, deciding that her job was done. She offers you a hopeful sort of look before she continues on towards her desk, leaving you and Spencer mostly alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you're subjectively alright, for the moment. You're better than you were, but not as good as you could be. You're not anywhere near where or who you were before, but you suppose after what the team endured there wasn't much that could be done about that last bit. "I'm so sorry." he's exclaiming, and of course, he means it. He always means it. "I didn't mean to-" and he doesn't really know how to articulate all his thoughts correctly.

He's good with words, knows facts and statistics and data, knows what runs through his mind when he thinks about you, and knows what he wants to say. It's when he opens his mouth that things go awry, because despite all his grand attempts, he always manages to screw up when it came to expressing the emotional side of things. His pep talks sometimes fell flat, and a lot of times he missed the mark when it came to cheering someone up. But, he'd never wanted to be a person who hurt you, so he needed to fix it.

Even if it ruined everything forever.

"I wasn't trying to insinuate that you'd-" and he motions between the both of you. "I don't think that you see me as a rebound." he finally vocalizes. "That would mean you'd have to see me in a potentially romantic way." Spencer's voice is as steady as it often was when he was giving a geographical profile or helping to relay some form of fact or evidence during a case. Which said a lot about his intentions, and how serious he was about you not misunderstanding him.

"I was merely trying to note that a lot of times in circumstances where we're faced rejection from someone we hold to a high regard, it's really easy to misinterpret our own feelings and latch onto people before we really mean to." he expresses, and your chewing on the inside of your cheek, albeit subtly. "For example, because you've established me as someone who you can trust during this time, it'd be really easy for you to misinterpret what you think you feel for me." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inwardly.

"How could I possibly do that? They're my own feelings." you retort.

"Because, the first thing people do after a breakup, is they seek validation, or a new way to boost their esteem and self worth." he doesn't quite lecture, but it's clear he's intent on your knowing all of this. "And that doesn't necessarily mean that you're vying for me as a potential person to bounce back with, but a lot of times when you don't process the end of a previous emotional bond, your view of the entire new dynamic can be warped." he proceeds, and you're still not really understanding his point, instead you're feeling more silly.

"What are you saying, Spencer?" you question quietly.

"All I'm trying to explain is that I don't want you to tell me that you want to go out and listen to me promenade facts unless it's what you really want to do." he says, "I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to play along, because you think we're in the same boat... where we- we love someone that we can't have?" he presses, and he winces once it's out, you think you may have started holding your breath. "Does that make sense to you?"

You nod your head limply, and you take in his words. You find that your little hunch about your dear Spencer was correct. You also note that it doesn't quite scare you the way you'd initially believed it would. "Spence, I wouldn't do that to you." you remind him, and he nods too.

"I know that." he promises. "At least not consciously, but our minds can play tricks on us. You could think that this is what's best, moving on... forgetting about- about everything that happened." he presses, and your lips form into a thin line. "And then wake up in three weeks and remember why you fell in love with Hotch to begin with."

"Or-" and his eyes widen.

"Or?"

"Or...I could choose to stop waiting around for someone to not be afraid to love me." you counter. "I could- I could choose to hang out with my friend, Spencer and be okay with whatever happens after that. I could- We could do that. And it could be okay." you purse your lips. "Because, it's what I want to do. Nobody's entitled to my feelings but me, and you know what that means, Spencer? It means that if you think that you might love me, you need to be okay with that." he looks a bit startled that you're saying it so bluntly, but stays quiet.

"And you need to know that sometimes your statistics are gonna be wrong, and sometimes the guy that's too scared to admit how they feel doesn't get the girl." it's a shock, you can't say that you've fallen out of love in a day, you can't say that you've fallen in love in a day. But you do know that Spencer Reid managed to invoke a hope inside of you that you hadn't managed to feel in a long time. He made you girlishly giddy, and you liked talking to him, you liked listening to him, you liked the way it felt when you'd made plans together.

And maybe there was no such thing as a happily ever after where everyone gets who they want, maybe in three weeks you would wake up and find that you and Spencer were better off as friends, but you weren't going to hold up your life in the hopes that maybe someday Aaron Hotchner would wake up and decide he was finally ready to love you out loud. Not when there was a chance to take your own life, your own emotions by the balls and do with them what you wanted.

"He doesn't?" Spencer asks, and you're not quite sure you can place what emotions are resting on his face and in his eyes.

"We can find out." you offer, and it's not some heady and heavy declaration of unyielding devotion, but wasn't that sort of how every relationship started? With some decision to take a chance. Maybe, you didn't really know. "There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and for the second time that day Spencer seems to brighten right in front of your eyes. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me... there's a lot we could do…" and the small change is almost everything. It's scary, causes a pit in your gut.

Still, it's a nicer feeling than uncertainty and the hollowness left behind by idleness. "Are you in?" you ask, and Spencer is already nodding his head, smile reaching his eyes as his pretty teeth reveal themselves to you, eyes twinkling in a way that's very very beautiful.

"Yes." he agrees with a simple nod. "I would-" and you think it's cute the way his smile refuses to leave, and sweet the way he's suddenly grown nervous all over again. "I'd like that-" and his voice cracks, and earns him a laugh, your own demeanor seeming to change as your excitement starts to brew in the depths of your chest.

"Good." you beam.

"Good." he repeats, and there's a small moment, a flicker where you're certain you both look nervous, frightful of what came next. But it only lasts a second, because you're both suddenly being called by Derek, a resounding 'Pretty Boy, Pretty Girl' forcing you out of your bubble and back into the fray. With another shared smile you find yourselves in step, making your way back towards the heart of the bullpen where the rest of the team is huddled. It's rare when work is so light, but you know as well as everyone else, you'll all take advantage of it.

When Penelope smiles at you, you smile back, and it's real.

When JJ plants herself on top of your desk, the two of you actually laugh, spilling secrets and trading gossip like nothing's ever changed.

When Rossi calls you Piccola, you relax even more into the familiarity of being surrounded by your teammates.

When Derek slings an arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss to the top of your head, you remember why you loved your job.

When Emily calls your name and waves you and JJ over to the group, you oblige, meeting Emily's eyes with no mirth left behind. When she calls you by your nickname, you feel that familiar swarm of familial adoration filling your chest, and recognize that things with her would be okay. You find that in the grand scheme she is still your Emily.

When you find yourself standing next to your boss, his usually stern and stoic persona shed in the presence of the team he considered family, you hardly bat an eye. When he smiles at a joke you make, you're pleased, but the anxiety, the panic that tormented you is all gone. The butterflies are too, replaced with the respect you remember.

And when you find yourself looking across the circle and meet the pretty brown eyes of one Spencer Reid, you feel it when your heart tremors, just a little bit.

And you think, in the end, you made the right decision.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for taking my dog to sniff in the grass near an apartment building?

🐶 for reference so i can come back to it

I (20) am back in my home city for the summer while i'm away from college, and i'm staying with my family which includes my dog (almost 4f) who is the love of my life. she's very sweet and cuddly around people but requires a lot of exercise and LOVES to sniff around, but we can't take her to dog parks because she was a covid puppy and was never socialized properly and thus ends up pretty aggressive towards other dogs. (this is an us problem and i am trying to work on this with her this summer).

i'm trying to reinforce some of the training i did with her before i left for college, which my family hasn't really kept up. part of this is recall training, which she always responds to if there's treats involved. i want to keep that ingrained in her in case of an emergency.

there is an apartment about a block away from my house, which has this huge lawn right next to it and a couple of benches. i never see anyone there, but it's a really nice grassy area and my dog loves to go sniffing around there. since there aren't any significant triggers for her around, usually what i do is drop the leash (i keep it connected to her) and follow her around for a bit. i also always call her back every so often and treat when she comes to reinforce her recall. it's a fun time for both of us: for her because she likes to sniff and roll around in the grass, and for me because i like spending time with her!

today we were doing what we normally do when i heard some knocking. i looked around and saw an old lady in one of the ground floor apartments knocking at me (i knew it was at me because nobody else was there). once i finally made eye contact with her, she made this aggressive pointing motion with her hand for us to go away. she kept doing that until we left (i'm super conflict-avoidant so it didn't take much).

i'm worried that i might have accidentally broken a law or something. as far as i'm aware, anyone is allowed to just go hang out there. my dad says he's seen other people and their dogs there as well, and i also know for a fact that the building is pet-friendly as there are a couple of dogs who bark from inside sometimes when my dog and i walk by (this doesn't bother her). i also am never more than 15ft away from her at any given moment, and she's very well behaved and comes when she's called. the worst she'll do is pee on the lawn or poop, in which case i'll pick it up and throw it away. i think i'm a responsible dog handler, and i don't do anything with my dog that could potentially danger her or someone else.

so AITA?

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for 🦄 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um, yeah,” Billy repeats, shrugging awkwardly. “And–you know, you need sun, right? Like for your powers and stuff so you'll be safer on missions, but also, um–Kryptonians just really like it, I think. Well, okay, I dunno if you know if you like it yet, but Superman definitely does. He spends a lot of time in it. So–windows.” 

Lynn . . . swallows, slowly, and tightens his grip on Tawky a little bit again. Billy wonders if that means he wants a hug. Lynn's still a baby, technically–he might not know how hugging really works in real life, or just not know how to ask for one when he needs one. 

Or just not know he's allowed to ask for one when he needs one. 

Or just wants, obviously. 

“I like it,” Lynn says very, very quietly, and Billy can't help perking up excitedly at hearing that. 

“Awesome!” he blurts, then clears his throat and tries to reel himself in and settle down a little more. “Um–awesome, yeah. Cool. I'm glad.” 

Lynn doesn’t say anything else, but he loosens his grip on Tawky a little. Billy still wonders if he wants a hug, but he really doesn’t know how to tell. 

. . . well, he guesses there’s the obvious option. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning forward a little to peer a little closer at Lynn’s face while trying not to be, like, pushy about it. Lynn’s just hard to read, that’s all, and he doesn’t wanna mess up with him. “Do you want a hug or anything?” 

Lynn’s shoulders immediately stiffen, and Billy represses a wince. 

“You don’t have to,” he puts in quickly. “Just, um–I didn’t know if you knew you could have one? If you ever do? Like–that’s a normal thing to want. And, you know . . . do? And . . . stuff?” 

Billy is very, very bad at this, isn’t he, he realizes, trying not to cringe at how awkward and lame he sounds right now. Like–babies need touched and carried and hugged, and really everybody does, but he definitely could’ve made that offer way less weird-sounding. Just–he really doesn’t trust that Cadmus told Lynn that kind of thing was okay or important or ever would be okay or important, so . . . yeah. So he said it.

Just he said it very, very awkwardly and lamely. 

Lynn is totally never gonna think he’s a cool dad, is he, Billy thinks morosely. He’s gonna think he’s uncool and weird and boring and– 

Lynn . . . hesitates, slightly, and Billy gets distracted from worrying about Lynn deciding he sucks and peers at him again. Lynn looks conflicted, and Billy’s not sure what to say to him. 

“It really is fine if you don’t want one,” he promises finally, because it’s the best idea he’s got. “Just it’s also fine if you do want one, and I kinda, uh, didn’t know if you knew that or not.” 

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, which still isn’t really a helpful answer but is also still better than a lie. Billy can work with noncommittal. Like, he’d much rather do a little extra work to figure out what Lynn’s okay with than accidentally upsetting or hurting him 

Lynn probably doesn’t even know what he’s okay with yet, in a lot of ways. How could he, when everything’s still so new and strange? 

“You could hug Tawky, if you want,” Billy suggests. Lynn’s already been petting him, kinda, so maybe he’s more comfortable with touching him than he is him right now. Which makes sense, really. Tawky is really huggable, and also, like . . . sometimes it’s just less intimidating to hug somebody who looks like a stuffed animal at the time and also isn’t currently a lot bigger than you, Billy knows. Like–that’s definitely been a thing for him, a lot of times. 

. . . honestly, he’s not sure who the last person besides Tawky he even hugged was, come to think of it. Some people hugged him, because they were grateful he’d saved them and all, but–yeah. That’s . . . different, obviously. Not as . . . comforting, or comfortable, or . . . anything like that. 

And if Lynn’s never gotten a hug before–well. Yeah. 

Tawky’s a good start, Billy knows. Like–really good. 

“. . . I don’t know how,” Lynn says, his tone just a little–distant, maybe. Or . . . guarded, maybe. 

“Oh, it’s not hard,” Billy assures him, then picks up one of the throw pillows off the couch and demonstrates, wrapping his arms around it to squeeze a little. “You just wrap your arms around somebody and squeeze, kinda. I mean, you’re gonna have to be careful not to do it too hard with baseline humans and all, but Tawky’s tough!” 

And, well–he’s pretty sure Lynn couldn’t hug him hard enough to hurt him, at least not ‘til he grows up a little more or gets a little more sun in him. But he doesn’t wanna push, so he doesn’t say that.

[krazyyyyyy]

Sweet Promises Hyugo/Reader

Synopsis: A vow between two childhood friends to make their friendship last forever...

Words: 1346

Notes: I apologize in advance if my uploading schedule has become a bit funky lately, writer's block is hitting extremely hard right now and with all my WIPS, it couldn't be any more tiring.

But I hope you enjoy this in the meantime <3

Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare in awe at the graceful flight of a bumblebee as it lands on the delicate petal of one of the many sunflowers that were planted in your family's garden. You continued to watch as the little bee crawled toward the center of the flower and started to drink the nectar.

You wish you could be a bee…

To fly around and drink the sweetness of nectar all day with not a worry on their small minds. They didn't have to deal with endless lectures that came from their parents; no worries about table manners or how properly dressed they were at gatherings… it all seemed like a dream to you.

Once the bee had its fill of nectar, it buzzed happily before taking off to another part of the garden, leaving you all alone.

Even with the bee gone, you stare at the sunflower with thoughts running through your head. How did the nectar taste? If the bee enjoyed it so much, maybe you could too–but you might get in trouble if your father caught you doing such an unladylike act… on the other hand, he was busy at the moment. And what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Slowly, you reach your small pointer finger toward the center of the sunflower. Maybe there would be some leftover nectar from where the bee drank, but then again, you weren’t exactly a bee and had no idea how the whole nectar thing worked.

Just when your finger is about to make contact with the seeds of the flower, the sudden patter of small feet in the grass behind you, along with a voice shouting your name, stops you in your tracks.

“Y/N! There you are!”

Before you could even turn around, a pair of arms wrap around your neck and bring you into a tight hug from behind. They rested their face against the side of their head, giving you a glimpse of their distinctive cyan hair, which you recognized instantly.

“Hyugo? What are you doing here?” You question, turning your head slightly to look at the little boy behind you.

Never letting go of his hold of you, he speaks happily, “Dad said he had some business stuff with Mr. L/N so he said we could go play outside with you!” He finally lets go of you to cross his arms in a pouting manner, “I tried to make Geo come out, but he’s too busy being a grump right now. Something about it being too hot outside for him.” 

You giggle at that, “Since when is he ever not a grump?”

Hyugo laughs with you, “True…but sometimes he’s a little less grumpy when you're around.” The little boy teases you with a devious smile imprinted painted on his face.

“Shut up! He is not”

“Is too!”

It was now your turn to cross your arms and pout, all while glaring daggers at the boy you supposedly called your best friend. He smiled innocently under your intense glare. And instead of forging some kind of apology, he takes your hand in his to try to tug you toward a different part of your backyard.

“Come on, I have something to show you!” The boy tugs endlessly on your clasped hands, but your feet stay rooted in place, still showing signs of annoyance from his recent comment.

“Why can’t you just show me here?” You raise an eyebrow at the young boy as he still determinedly tugs on your hand in an attempt to bring you along with him. If there was anything you knew about Hyugo, it is that he never gave up, an admirable trait…but also an annoying one at the same time.

“Because it’s super special! Now, can we go? Pleaseeeeee?” He pleads with you with puppy dog eyes that you know better than to try to resist.

“Fineeee” You groan, finally giving in to the boy’s pleas. The little cyan-hair boy lets out a cheer of victory before giddily leading you hand in hand toward his desired spot.

He led you to a secluded part of your backyard, where a giant, overgrown oak tree stood towering over the two children. You were confused as to what Hyugo was trying to show you; considering you two would visit this tree anytime Hyugo’s family would come to visit, both of you spending hours on hours climbing the large tree to see if either of you could reach the top–a challenge that remains to be accomplished.

Staring up at the tree you begin to speak “Ok, so what was it you wan–” 

“Wait! First, you have to close your eyes!” Hyugo abruptly cuts you off. 

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

You groan, closing your eyes, shrouding the world around you in complete darkness.

“Okay! Now no peeking!”

“I won’t!”

For the next few minutes, you stand in your spot with your eyes covered, doing your best to ignore every urge that tells you to peek. And just when curiosity was about to get the best of you, you hear Hyugo call out.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now. But turn around slowly!” The boy can barely contain his excitement.

Following what your friend says, open your eyes before slowly turning your body to face where Hyugo would be.

The sight in front of you leaves you more confused than you were just moments ago.

In front of you, Hyugo was down on one knee with a watermelon-flavored ring pop extended out to you.

“Marry me Y/N!” The little boy shouted, his cheeks a small tint of red.

“What?” You were beyond confused, at the young age of seven you barely understood the concept of multiplication nonetheless marriage.

“I saw it in a movie yesterday! It said when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you give them a ring and ask them to marry you,” His smile widened as he gestured to the ring pop he held in his hand, “This way we can be friends forever!”

Least that made two children who knew zero to nothing about the concept of marriage… 

You looked at the candied ring in his hand. “Really?” You question in disbelief. You had never heard of such a thing before, a way that you and Hyugo could remain friends forever…it sounded almost too good to be true.

“Yeah!” Hyugo cheers. 

“Then yes! I will marry you!” You exclaim, “Let's be friends forever!”

“Friends forever!” 

With that, Hyugo stands up from his kneeling positioning to excitedly gift you the green ring pop. You knew the ring was made of candy, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to take even a lick of the precious confectionery as you gently slide the ring onto your middle finger.

Hyugo suddenly springs up in realization, “Oh! I also have another one for myself!” He digs into the pocket of his cargo pants, pulling out a wrapped ring pop. Quickly, unwrapping the small treat, he presents the shining blue ring pop to you. “See? It’s blue raspberry, mom said it looked just like my hair!”. 

You marvel at the blue ring pop, “It does!” You both fall into laughter together at the silly comparison.

Hyugo then slides his own candy ring onto his middle finger, but not before giving it a few small licks, savoring its strong artificial flavor. His gaze then lingers toward the top of the oak tree; his devious smirk returns as his eyes shift back to you.

“Last one to the top is a rotten egg!” He shouts to you, running toward the base of the oak tree.

It takes you a few moments to fully register what he says, but when you do you're quick to chase after your friend, who was already partially up the base of the tree. “Come on Hyugo! That’s not fair!”

Neither one of you made up the top of that tree that day.

But you both made a core memory that would stay with you for the rest of your lives…

[okeiglxg]

Day 4 of recommending 5 fanfics about the JLA meeting the Batfam with plus one. I missed two days which is yesterray and the day before that so sorry if day 4 is late!!

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

Why Bruce shouldn't try to drink in pace with superhumans written by SolaceInSpace

- 2,309 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- In all fairness, Bruce hadn't intended to get drunk. It was an accident. He could not be blamed for this. So what if he accidentally let slip the fact that he had kids? Bruce is at no fault at all. It was the JL's fault for asking so many damn questions.

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Bats and Birds written by Lazy_Art_Girl

- 3,464 words, 2 chapters, completed

- No ships

Summary- After the Justice League formed, members soon figured three things out about Batman:

1. He was one of the smartest individuals any of them had ever met.

2. He had no powers, be it meta, alien, or mystical.

3. He was surprisingly good with children.

Seeing #3, the members discuss among themselves how they think Batman would be such a good dad. Soon they develop a plan to let Batman know this. Little do they know that its a bit too late for that.

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

better things to do written by ThatNerdNextDoor23

- 4,224 words, 1 chapter, conpleted

- no ships

Summary- It's important." Batman grit out. Superman scoffed, "More important than discussing the safety of the planet?" He questioned. "Yes." Bruce hissed, without hesitation.

Or

Bruce has a horde of sick children at home who need his love and care, Clark is dragging this meeting out way more than necessary, his son is impatient, and the Justice League learn something they never knew about the Dark Knight.

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

Not so Alone written by Blueseabird2

- 13,700 words, 4 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Batman is insulted during a Justice League mission, which wouldn't be a problem except Nightwing is there to hear it. The other League members don't know this is a problem because they have no idea Batman has kids, much less that Nightwing is one of them. Bruce decides to do the only reasonable thing: go on vacation. His children probably won't burn down anything too important.

Dick just wants to defend his family and brag about his siblings. Good thing his father taught him a few things about the importance of detailed plans and talented allies.

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

Have You Seen My Kids!? Written by Cute_Bear

- 4,232 words, 2 chapters, completed

- no ships

Summary- Five Times Bruce's kids interrupted him as Bruce Wayne and One Time they interrupted him as Batman with the Justice League.

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

Plus one!!

- 1,934 words, 1 chapter, completed

- no ships

Summary- Sometimes the only way to solve an impossible riddle is to give up.

(Batkids get captured by the riddler and batman has to sacrifice one)

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

Thats all!! I might not have motivation to post day 5 tomorrow but I'll try anyway

Like the post for more! 🤍

Have an amazing day/night

[eff4freddie]

2 Sweet 4 Me | Part Three

Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 2.5k Minors DNI

Part One Part Two

Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?

This is a love story.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, lots of swearing, angst

The thing about wrap parties is that if you never let yourself get attached to any of the people you work with, it doesn’t hurt when its time for everyone to go. Dieter hated wrap parties, mind already on his next project, if not his next score. He didn’t care to really know anyone, their hopes and dreams or whatever. The way people clambered over each other to feign sadness that their two and a half months together were over, the way they promised to stay in touch just to immediately lose everyone’s numbers, the way people looked through him, plotting how to get the dregs out of him, how to carve up whatever was left. He used to be able to stand it, when he knew he had you to go home to.

He hadn’t dared call you since his late-night Ambien confessions. Part of him wanted to see if you’d call him, if you’d miss him now that you’d heard his voice again, and a larger, wiser part of him knew you wouldn’t, that you shouldn’t, that maybe you and him could debate whether he was good enough for you, but there was no argument that he wasn’t good for you. He’d seen the way your eyes had hollowed out the longer you stayed with him.

Fuck, it still hurt though. He felt the fist clenched tight in his chest, always feeling breathless and slightly panicked at the idea of being alone. You. Without you.

Rudy convinced him to go to the wrap party anyway, that it was important to be seen, then basically held him hostage, refusing to come and pick him up for at least an hour. Dieter had downed one vodka tonic and watched the minutes tick by before he could slip away again. His next job started in three weeks, was shooting in LA, and the studio had let him keep Rudy. Dieter liked Rudy, his dad-vibes weirdly soothing at the end of a long night. Rudy judged Dieter, but only ever fairly.

‘You got a few weeks off from me, my friend,’ he said, from the front passenger seat, because he felt like either an invalid or 100 years old sitting alone in the back. Rudy had let him sit there so long as he promised not to fuck with the radio. Dieter had sat on his hands.

‘You going to keep yourself occupied, Sir?’ Rudy asked, and Dieter shrugged.

‘Might do.’

‘I mean, you gonna keep that nose outta trouble?’ Rudy asked again, and there was that paternal care Dieter realised he’d been missing for most of his childhood, soaked it up now in case Rudy ran dry.

‘Might do,’ Dieter replied, grinning.

He’d just learnt to carry on without you, he realised. Hobbled, but moving. He checked his phone less, sometimes forgot to even look at it for hours on end. He hardly ever cracked open your left-over shampoo just to pretend you were still in the room. He didn’t catch himself reaching for you over the cold mattress at 3 AM anywhere near as often.

--

He nearly dropped his keys. Rudy had dropped him off at his gate so that he didn’t have to back up the driveway, and Dieter had been staring at the night sky, his head fully thrown back as he walked up his garden path, so that he didn’t see you sitting on his stoop until he was nearly standing on you.

‘Baby?’ he said, and you lifted your face to him as he reached for you, pulled you up onto your feet and into his arms, your little coughing sobs reverberating up his neck and bouncing around his skull. ‘Oh, my sweet thing, what?’ he asked, and you cried harder into his skin, your fists raised to his chest, almost like you were trying to hold him away while he pulled you in.

‘It’sjustbeensuchashitday,’ you said, and he reached down to pull your face from his so that he could examine you, turning your face left and right in the porchlight.

‘Tell me,’ he said, and you sniffled, avoiding his gaze, staring instead at his hairline. You wanted to reach up and run your fingers through it, tug on it as he settled his head between your thighs.

‘I…’ you started, and you stopped, because you didn’t know where to start, how to explain, that you had just wanted him, that nothing even really all that dramatic had happened, just fucking Kevin in your fucking office fucking up the finance reports again so now your project was $60k over budget because he can’t add up tax despite being a fucking accountant, and the CEO’s EA had been a bitch to you about trying to get a report signed off after the deadline, and you’d had to settle a couple of bullshit microaggressions between your colleagues because they were incapable of communicating like fucking adults, and your boss had given you a weird vibe all day like she was waiting for you to fuck up just to point it out to you, and the fluorescent lights had given you a headache again but you weren’t able to get an appointment with the optometrist to get those blue light filtering glasses things you’d read about on Instagram for another two weeks, and God sometimes your body just felt fucking wrong and there wasn’t any reason for it, really, except that putting your body against his made it right again.

You paused for breath, exhaling slowly, looking up into his face. It took you a moment to realise you’d spoken it all, out loud. You felt the heat explode on your cheeks at the revelation.

‘Oh, baby,’ he said, and he held your face in his hands as he planted a warm kiss on your forehead.

‘Can’t turn my brain off,’ you said, miserable.

‘You want me to help you forget?’ he asked, heart racing, caught on your words like a rag on a barbwire fence; made it right again, made it right again, your body against his made it right again.

You stared up at him, your eyes red and bloodshot, skin wet with tears. He held you there, in his gaze and in his hands. You weren’t sure you could speak it into existence, if you should. You nodded your head instead.

And then you were in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you, carrying you over the threshold and down into the den, his sunken couch appearing beneath you both as he sat, placing you gently to straddle his lap, laving at the skin behind your ear with his tongue. You gasped, your skin on fire and your body shivering, your clothes too tight, his clothes in your way, as you scrabbled for the hem of his tee and pulled it over his head. There, the expanse of his warm, golden skin. The smattering of hair on his chest, his nipples straining in the cool air. You wanted to lie down on it, feel it under your cheek and your palms, taste every inch with your tongue. He was panting, sitting with you perched on his lap, leaning back and looking up at you, his eyes wide as he waited for you to tell him to stop.

You leant forward, biting into the flesh of his shoulder, the urge to mar the perfect landscape of his skin too great. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, pulling you down onto his cock, hard and straining under his light cotton pants.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he muttered, pushing you down harder onto his lap and dragging you across it, the heat of your cunt intoxicating. He could smell you again, your perfume and your shampoo and your arousal, your little gasps in his ear as your clit grazed his thighs. ‘You miss me this bad?’

You could only nod, the electric shocks between your thighs pushing the words from your head. You felt his hands travelling, coming around to your front, pulling your top off, lifting the cups of your bra to hold your tits in his warm palms. No one had touched you like this in so long, not since you’d attempted a one-night-stand to see if you could fuck Dieter out of your life for good, and failed at both that and achieving orgasm.

His lips on your collarbone, his cock pushing up against you pussy, your hands in his hair. You’d thought about it, remembered it, conjured it alone in your bed with your fingers in your cunt, and none of it had been anything compared to the real thing, to the smell of him, to his scraggy beard dragging across your skin as he kissed you, hissing in pleasure as you rutted against him. He moved his hands again, sliding them up your thighs as you sat perched above him, sliding them under your skirt and over the cloth of your underwear, groaning when he felt that you were already soaking the fabric.

‘Dee,’ you whimpered, and you moaned when he pushed it to the side, slipping a fingertip against your clit, rubbing tight little circles that he knew would set you on fire. He chuckled to himself, satisfied and impatient in equal measure, as you gasped, your cunt so hot under his touch. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not, if he’d finally cracked and was just straight up hallucinating. He wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead, couldn’t account for the events as they were unfolding but just going with them, the pull of his cock guiding him towards you without any consideration as to the consequences.

He didn’t want to give you a chance to reconsider. He slipped a finger inside, all the way to the knuckle, pulling you to him in case you slipped from his grip as your back arched. It was like when you’d first got together, when you were crushing hard on each other, before things had got complicated and sad and sour. Before he’d been neglectful, before the lies had doubled and tripled, before the house of cards he built for the both of you to live in came crashing down around you. He felt it then, the nostalgia and the belief that maybe if you just kept fucking like this, kept pawing at each other, kept up the desire and the need, that you could get back on track, that he could keep you, the idea of it spurring him to switch places, pushing you sideways and onto the couch beneath him as he fumbled to release his heavy, aching cock from his pants.

You lifted your bum as you swept your underwear off your skin, opening yourself up to him as he devoured you, brown eyes trained on your cunt and the need for him leaking out and dribbling into the fabric of the couch. He swiped it with his thumb, lifting it to his lips for just the smallest of tastes to tide him over. You closed your eyes, the heat of it so much you felt the need to turn away, and he reached out and pulled your chin towards him again, locking you into his gaze.

‘Don’t turn away from me, baby,’ he said, leaning forward and positioning himself at your entrance. You watched him, entranced, as he pushed. ‘Never turn away, want to remember your eyes on me, want to remember all of it.’ You gasped, the sharpness in Dieter’s eyes, the focus, reminding you of how present he could be in a moment he determined worthy of his full attention. A little bloom of hurt emerged, one you had carried for months, knowing that he could seemingly turn off his care for you on a dime. You wondered, briefly, fretted, why it was that you had started failing to win it, why he had looked at you this way less and less as time wore on, why he had given up on you, why you had let him, why you had stayed for as long as you had, and then he pushed fully into you, groaned as you took him fully inside you, pitching your hips to grind your clit onto his hipbone, and you forgot it all for a second, obliterated with just the feel of him surrounding and inside you, just the taste of his sweat and the curl of his hair around his forehead, a little crown of thorns visible only in the dark as he crouched above you.

‘Dee,’ you said, and you heard the heaviness in it, the sob of it, as he pulled out and crowded himself back inside, brought himself home and you with him, seated himself inside your flesh. He leant over you on his elbows, cradling your head in his hands as he examined your eyes, the pleasure coursing through him as he saw the catch of your bottom lip between your teeth, felt the weight of it between you, crushing you both as he eased you open, felt the quake of the foundations as you entwined yourself around him, fresh tears on your cheeks as you grabbed for him, drew him in tighter, gasped and groaned and stretched your spine to try and contain it, all that he was drawing from you.

‘Baby,’ he said, a choke in his throat as he caught something rough behind his teeth, recognised it as the loss of you, the grief, no more heard than felt the crashing wave threatening to wash you both away. ‘I know,’ he whimpered, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he continued to seesaw into you, the joy and the thrill of it mixing with the sadness, with the terror, with the pain. ‘I know, baby, I know, I know,’ he mumbled, feeling that you were right there with him, that you were both standing over the cliff edge, knew that once you pulled him over, that once he took you with him, there would no clambering back to the ledge, that this was a goodbye as much as it was a coming home, that he wouldn't get to keep you because you were never his to possess, that you were with him now but that it would be the last time, that you would be gone the second your body hit the ground.

You felt it coming and you did nothing to stop it. Neither of you did.

--

He didn’t watch you dress, couldn’t bring himself to. He tucked himself back into his pants and stopped there, unable to bear putting his tee back on, covering himself when he had bared it all for you so readily and so recently, wanted to expose the nerve to the biting air for just a couple of seconds more. The world had slotted back again, into misalignment, where he realised now it had always belonged.

You didn’t have words, slipping first from his arms and then from his home in silence. You didn’t want to savour the moment, didn’t want to look back to examine and imprint the details in your mind. It was over now, whatever had been crowning was birthed. Nothing now except for the cleanup, for the clearing away.

At his gate the weather turned, an unseasonably cool breeze pushing your hair into your face and teasing the skin where your tears had tracked just minutes, moments, a lifetime before. You felt the chill of it there on your cheek, something new blooming underneath, something worth protecting. You reached up to warm it with your own hands.

Taglist (and massive thank you list!) @harriedandharassed @readingiskeepingmegoing @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love @ghostofzion @dieterbravobrainrotclub @the-feckless-wonder @swankyorange

[madhatterbri]

Unbothered | F.B.

Summary: Can I please request a Finn Balor x ring announcer/reader fic?, where Finn loves showing off in the ring because he knows the reader is watching him, but she acts like she's unbothered 😉.

Author's Note: I took it one step further. I hope that's okay. ❤️

Requested by anon.

Finn Balor Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @plentyoffandoms

"It sure looks like Finn is showing off tonight for the main event," Michael Cole mentioned with a smile. He stared at his paper while trying to hide a smile. Pat McAfee laughed next to him and looked at Y/N. She glared at both men. The two were having fun at her expense lately.

"Well, he does have quite the woman to impress. Miss Y/N is our wonderful ring announcer and has certainly caught the eye of Finn. He is quite the catch to you know? Zero percent body fat," Pat commented and winked at his ring announcer. He fingers formed a 0 to elaborate on his previous comment. Y/N rolled her eyes and focused on the match.

The Irish man wasn't shy about showing off to her. His moves were bigger and flashier than they needed to be. His light eyes would lock on to her to make sure she was watching. When he completed his move, Finn would look for a reaction. Sometimes, she would roll her eyes. Other times, she would clap sarcastically. She was rewarded with a smile on his face.

Tonight didn't go exactly as planned. Finn stood on the top rope to perform a Coup de Grace. He turned to look at her like he normally did. When he saw she was watching, he jumped to perform his finishing move. His opponent didn't calculate the landing.

Finn landed on the man awkwardly. His ankle twisted. Y/N knew something was wrong the moment Finn didn't look at her. He automatically pinned the guy. The commentary table commented on the injury he might have sustained for those watching at home. They went off the air, and medic came out to help him get to the back.

The announcers and Y/N took a couple of pictures with fans. She couldn't hide the worry on her face. Maybe he was really injured. If only he would stop being a show off.

"You, uh, looking a little concerned, kid. Why don't you check on him?" Pat asked and motioned towards the ramp with his head.

"I guess," she answered. Truthfully, that was the only thing she had thought about. After a few more pictures, she apologized and started to take off from Michael and Pat.

"You think they gonna name their first kid after me someday?" He asked Michael. The two men laughed and continued to interact with the audience.

Y/N made it to the medical room and knocked on the door. Nervously, she crossed her arms over her body. The locker room would have a field day with her being there to see them. All the teasing, especially from Judgment Day, would never cease.

"Come in," Finn's Irish accent called through the door. She grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

Finn couldn't hide his shock when he saw Y/N. He was expecting someone from his faction. The injured wrestler slowly sat up. His pant leg was hiked up. A bag of ice placed high on his ankle. His shoe was left next to the medical bed.

"Impressive. Showed off so much you ended up in medical," Y/N complimented and walked next to the bed.

"Worth it, though. I know my Coup de Grace is your favorite move. I see the way your eyes shine when I perform it," he smirked. Y/N couldn't stop the brief chuckle. God, this man is so full of himself, she thought.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Pretty lucky. Any minute longer, and doc thought I would have lost my foot," he answered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "All right. Well, I hope you feel better. If you need anything, anything at all. Don't be afraid to ask someone else,"

Finn laughed. "How about your number? You like my moves in the ring, you should see how I am out of it,"

Y/N thought about it momentarily. "Okay, six,"

"Wait, seriously? Hold on," he pleaded and reached for his phone in his pocket. His fingers worked quickly on the touch screen. "Okay, ready,"

"Six," she repeated yet didn't say anymore numbers. They stared at each into realization dawned on him.

"Come on, I got injured trying to impress you. That should get me all ten numbers," he complained. Finn placed his phone on his lap.

"I couldn't be bothered by giving you the rest. Besides, you don't know if that's even the first number," she winked and walked out of medical.

[torasplanet]

thinkin abt having a lil family with nerd!armin...

armin screams girl dad but...he isn't one and instead he has a son who is a spitting image of him. blonde hair, blue eyes, he has everything and sometimes you joke that armin might as well have made your son himself from how they look so similar! but...armin hates when you say that.

because he hates his son to put it nicely. well he doesn't hate him but he despises the things that he does...like cuddling all up to you so you'd give him your undivided attention leaving armin out of the moment. he shouldn't get mad because after all, his son is practically him but littler, clinging to you at any chance, wanting your attention all the time and wanting you to hear about what he was talking about.

that was all armin did but he couldn't really do that when his son was doing it all for him!! he hoped to have a bit more luck with the next kid who he hoped was a girl, though despite that, he loved his little family and he loved how you all interacted with each other. sometimes you'd walk in late at night out of your sleep and see the two blondes awake on the couch watching star wars and your son is telling armin to be quiet while armin is just ranting about the movies while trying his best not to spoil it...

sometimes armin would walk in on you and your son in the kitchen and you're giving him little tastes of foods that you like but he's never tried before. he loves to watch how your son giggles happily at how yummy the food taste! but armin and your favorite moments in your little family are when you all are together sitting on the couch doing anything.

most of the time, armin would be telling you about some kid show that your son likes because of him and it'd turn into a rant with your son adding on small details that his father missed as you just listened. "so finn has this kind of clone made out of grass–" "his name is fern!" armin looks at your son who is snuggled into your side while his head is buried into your tummy, he smiles with a chuckle "yeah i forgot, he's fern." you just giggled at how your son smiled brightly at armin's acknowledgment of his favorite character (projecting a bit here...) he was so cute.

your boyfriend's eyes went to you and he gently wiggled your arm "you listening baby?" he asked and you quickly nodded "yeah, i'm listening 'min. keep going." armin grinned and nodded before continuing his rant on adventure time which he had introduced to his son about a week ago, you thought you'd never hear the end of this. they probably knew more than the actual show creators.

you just love your little family, even if they're nerds.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[trans-leek-cookie]

seeing ppl shipping marcille n chilchuck just makes me. Okay this sucks man. Like these r the least 2 compatible Dungeon Meshi characters chilchuck is a full hater of magic and elves and shit and like. Yeah he can grow out of that but marcille should not have to deal with this idiot. He already lost one wife he doesn't need to be inflicted on more women

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m not sure if the seasonal depression is hitting especially hard this year or if I’m just grieving for Mabel or if I’m finally going irreparably insane or if life/people is being unfair towards me or all of the above

[birbs-in-space]

fun fact about uquiz dot com is that their quiz service is actually incredibly broken. there's no guarantee your result actually matches your answers (i had a quiz last year that on testing actually only provided the right result less than 50% of the time) and sometimes it serves quiz takers every other question instead of all of them. so. that's why I've largely started using quotev instead.

[k0kichiimagines]

sometimes i think i am a little insane

[killmebythebeach]

So was anyone gonna tell me that s5 is so unbelievably sad or was I supposed to find that out myself.

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.