#childhood separation? I don't know her

[firstroseofspring]

i have exactly one million questions.

#sea of gatan on betazed woah..... #five years means they hadnt separated yet (at least if you go by 12 and not 5 or 6 like b'elanna says sometimes.) #was it a family vacation? did miral take her alone? #im crafting a narrative unfortunately. miral takes her to get away for a little bit because john is becoming a little bit insufferable #and she immediately almost drowns and its literally the worst vacation of mirals life. <- she cant catch a break #or maybe they have a good time and they don't fight much yet and they're like woohoo family trip to betazed #and b'elanna almost drowns and THEN its the worst day ever for the both of them. :) #or maybe not. so many possibilities #also it must have been a public place? must have been very overwhelming for the people around them to hear the- panic and the grief #the relief after of course. #miral dont tell your father you almost drowned torres #diary #interesting that she waited until she almost died to tell her about stovokor it seems like. something you would start young- though #five is very young but i know religious couples that start younger than this #i once read a fic where miral wasnt- where it was like an issue that miral was so into the klingon religion when b'elanna was growing up #because she hadn't always been that way. it makes me do the math and like- #l'naan is dead during b'elanna's childhood because in prophecy she says that she used to pray for her grandmother when kohlar asks about it #anyway the implication was that she hadn't been so religious when she met john and its like okay my mommy died on me and my daughter #almost drowned and my husband is trying to make me and her into something that is not. What I'm Used To. lets find a crutch #and put claw marks in it! collapses

[isekyaaa]

It's odd how people can absolutely abhor Rika and say she's a horrible terrible person while simultaneously adoring V as if he was a poor poor baby who did nothing wrong. It just makes me uncomfortable.

#spoilers #analysis #mysme #there's a high level of black and white thinking where it fills one with moral indignation #but that indignation blinds them from seeing the bigger picture #ppl that go into moral outrage immediately without trying to understand make me feel uncomfortable #that they're gonna judge me in the same way the moment i do something wrong #rika was a horrible terrible person #but so was v #v was horribly messed up from his childhood and from rika #but rika was horribly messed up from her childhood and from v as well #rika took action to do terrible things #v took inaction despite knowing what was going on #they're both messed up! #you can be angry and upset with rika but if you don't give v the same treatment you're reading with a fantasy tinted lens #on a separate note tho i am so busy i can't wait until everything lightens up ugh

[thursdayg1rl]

didn't realise that the summer I turned pretty season 2 was still going lmaoo. I finished episode 6 and was like well damn I guess this is it. here we go again ig

#the problem with this series is that it is too set in todays time #but the books are so so 2010 coded and it kind of ruins the whole vibe #even the little choices of adding in modern music.. idk man. like my Jeremiah has never heard of Ariana grande and I know this in my heart #its so. Netflix originalified #and I know we will look back in 10 years to cringe at this bc even now I am cringing at it #and then the casting. that's a whole separate issue #she really said Conrad was 'dark dark dark' and they made him barely a brunette (can you use brunette for men? many have been wondering) #and Jeremiah isn't even properly blond like can we commit to the bit please. be serious about this im not even playing #bc they could have dyed their hair its not even that deep #I like belly at least like I look at her and I think yeah that could be belly #and Taylor as well actually. not in season 1 but her season 2 hair I believe it can be her #the only good thing they changed is making Jeremiah bisexual #and also I think the characters aren't obsessed with each other how I thought they should be after reading the books #the stakes are simply not that high when in the books it was like life or death for belly to get Conrad to notice her #ALSO not enough flashback scenes to their childhood #I don't even care ab this like that but it's just the principle of the thing! like it could have been great and they fumbled it completely #I need to have some kind of input in these things they should hire me as a creative director 😤 #also I came here to say that Jeremiah is wearing an outfit I have worn many times before but I got sidetracked

[keungking]

i'm 80% sure my url means "stretch the ginger" in thai (completely by chance), but i want everyone to know that actually it's a reference to this album and this song

and also i fucking love ginger if a dish has ginger in it i'll devour that shit. not to be super basic but if i go to a restaurant and they serve moo pad king? well

#keung talks #desperately trying to indulge in my interest in thai series and bls but doing that while having a special interest that is something else.. #well. it can kill a mf #if i'm ever talking about thai bls on here just know i'm always constantly thinking about koraen hipohp in the background or foreground #it's an addiction i cannot help it #i'm sure you can understand #anyway that's a banger of an album it's made by my number 4 on my spotify wrapped #the childhood best friend of the rapper that got me into the whole scene to begin with #he was kind of cringe in the past living the whole tough guy hip hop guy bit but then he went to prison dyed his hair pink and became cunty #love him. such a nice album too #oh! the rapper who got me into the scene who also is besties with the guy who made this album is the guy who raps the outro to sweet home! #the netflix series. season 1. the outro. such a good song i like him so much he's got an amazingly skilled way w rhythms #and his production and composition of beats is just amazing GGRRAUUAUHHH #anyway #also that other song. king. she's such a good artist too. love her. that's my favourite song of hers. together with dahlia i think #(i'm not mentioning any names bc i don't want my twitter mutuals to find this account lmao i want these worlds separate) #but aurgh the symptoms they make me fully unable to not talk about it just a little bit even here #hhhhhgghhn. howling at the moon #Spotify

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[hohuios]

Tag drop: 2/2

#[ visage. ] you know another man as good looking as i am? the correct answer is no; by the way. #[ mini study. ] is it decided from when we're born then? ones born without much power are fated to be stamped out by you? #[ meta. ] one who's let his soul rot can't measure up to someone with a real soul just by getting power. that's not how it works down here. #[ essence. ] it’s a cruel and random world. and yet the chaos is all so beautiful. #[ humans. ] you think humans are weak. yeah; their bodies lack the physical ability of demons; but they posses something that demons don't. #[ demons. ] he understands love; so he'll make it fine as a human. the only things i choose to exterminate are demons. #[ rebellion. ] i always wondered; why did my father give me the rebellion? if the yamato can separate man from devil… #[ sword of sparda. ] he split his power in three parts. one bore his own name; the second blade was named to embody retaliation... #[ yamato. ] ... and the final blade was named to embody a god of death. #[ sparda. ] why do you refuse to gain power? the power of our father sparda? / father? i don't have a father. #[ eva. ] she loved humanity; a demon and her children. it's far out of reach now; that warm smile from my childhood. #[ vergil. ] jackpot! -- why you gotta leave me hangin'? we used to love saying that. / i have no recollection. #[ nero. ] i should thank you. / that'd be out of character. maybe you should just throw an insult my way instead. / that sounds better. #[ patty. ] well patty; if I'm not mistaken this is one time that i might owe you a little thank you. #[ trish. ] if you get sick of it; you can always come back here. / why that's uncharacteristically kind of you. #[ lady. ] can i come along? / do what you want. but don't expect to get paid. #[ morrison. ] damn; you make me wait forever and then you go making selfish requests. / sorry. #[ v. ] for a second there I thought you were gonna shish kabob me. / i know how stubborn you can be. #[ mundus. ] again i must face a sparda. strange fate; isn't it? / strange and ironic that it will end the same way. #[ syd. ] well then strong and gentle lord dante of the 'real soul.' you'll let me live even now; won't you? just like you did before.

[astonmartinii]

insta au req about reader and charles being best friends and a rift comes between them because of his girlfriend(or whoever!!) and reader and max finally get together and she shades ferrari and charles purrrrr (if not i totally get it queen love u loads)

into the arms of another | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

after charles leaves her out in the cold, y/n falls into the arms of another.

part two part three

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, arthurleclerc and 506,823 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: dumb and dumber: vacation edition

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user1: they're really just the definition of no thoughts behind the eyes

user2: it's crazy cause we all know you have to be smart to drive an f1 car and she has a literal degree in architecture but they are always in the most insane situations ever

charles_leclerc: that's my private jet don't call me dumb

yourusername: *rented, dumbass

liked by maxverstappen1

user3: they're friendship goals like perfect example of platonic soulmates and male and female friendship

arthurleclerc: so like what does a man need to do for a feature on your instagram?

yourusername: soz arth, step ur aesthetic up x

user4: oh to be besties with an f1 driver

user5: wait so like all the leclercs and their gfs went on this holiday, right?

user6: yeah arthur’s and lorenzo’s gfs have posted about being there

user5: so it’s kinda muggy that y/n refused to post the girls?

user6: not really she’s posted with the girls loads i think y’all just want an excuse to be mad at her

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,231,907 others

charles_leclerc: summer spent with the best people

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user8: no y/n ....

user9: did yall see that tweet about the girl who met y/n in corsica when charles left her stranded on the beach to walk home on her own

user8: what ???

joristrouche: love you brother

charles_leclerc: best mate

user10: the vibes have shifted, the atmosphere is weird and the absence of y/n is the centre of it

user11: i fear i've seen this film before and y/n is defo getting iced out because charles in back in a relationship

user12: noooooo i thought he'd matured past that after the last time he fucked y/n off for a girlfriend

user13: babes please stop expecting so much from men

liked by yourusername

pierregasly: you look sunburnt calmar, did you leave it at home cause y/n isn't there to remind you?

charles_leclerc: she's here and i have been putting it on the sun just has it out for me

yourusername: i tried pierre, believe me

user14: well this is fucking awkward

user15: charles is not beating the allegations of forgetting about y/n while in a relationship LOL

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,034,667 others

maxverstappen1: simply lovely to win my home race again. the orange army never disappoint and i'm so thankful for all the support here this weekend

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user20: call me a conspiracy theorist BUT he thanked the orange army and the support separately i.e. Y/N Y/LN

user21: now you bitches usually jump to conclusions, but i'm hearing you this time

martingarrix: next set just gonna be super max on a two hour loop

maxverstappen1: i'll be there

user22: i'm sorry i'm new here why is y/n being in max's garage such a big deal? who is she? (gen.)

user23: y/n is charles' best friend, they've known each other since childhood and she's supported him through all levels of karting and single-seaters. though they haven't interacted too much in the public eye, max and y/n have known each other for as long as charles and max have. charles is a bit notorious for dumping y/n to the side for his girlfirend any time he's in a relationship and being inseparable once he's single again. after he ALLEGEDLY ditched her at a beach in corsica over the summer, y/n hasn't been seen with him or interacting with him online and was then in max's garage.

user24: maybe i'm messy but i genuinely want max and y/n to be together

yourusername: the red bull catering was defo worth breaking the cost cap

maxverstappen1: you're welcome any time

user25: can someone please check charles' pulse

landonorris: he looked like a cartoon with steam coming out of his ears earlier

user26: LANDO WHAT?

user27: tbf i think that's just a general side effect of driving the ferrari

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 542,987 others

yourusername: hard ball or soft serve

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user28: in my professional shadow identification opinion, i have deduced that it is in fact max verstappen

user29: ur so delusional (i believe you)

charles_leclerc: so that's who you've been getting our vanilla and chocolate cones with

yourusername: i'm not entertaining this argument over the internet charles you know where i live

liked by maxverstappen1

user30: she's so much better than me i'd rip him a new asshole right here right now

arthurleclerc: please come to dinner on sunday, carla can't come and i don't wanna fifth wheel plsssssss y/n

yourusername: sorry chickie i've already got plans but give mama my love

arthurleclerc: noooooo what could be better than mama's sunday lunch

yourusername: i promise i love those dinners but i've had enough experience seventh wheeling you guys and would love time with someone who loves me for me

liked by maxverstappen1

user31: yall i feel like i'm in the family group chat in this comment section this feels illegal to see

user32: max is so sly with the comments he's liking but that's MY petty king

f1

liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,304,783 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc

f1: oops. charles leclerc takes championship leader max verstappen and himself out of the race at the first corner. the two did not mince their words, verstappen saying: "i tried to stay out of trouble but trouble came to me"

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user33: the way i RAN to twitter

user34: i'm not a verstappen fan but that quote goes so hard

user35: i'm all for leaving the drivers' personal lives alone but lord the tea is piping and sky cutting to y/n in max's garage? OOP

user36: no cause someone at sky has been watchign too much drive to survive because putting "charles' childhood friend" on her name banner as she's in max's garage was pure cinema

user37: charles be chatting mad shit for the man at fault

user38: leclerc drove into verstappen and perez and thought he'd manage to get out of the blame again LOL he's such a joker

user39: i think it's a good thing that y/n is skipping that dinner

user40: the way charles' gf wasn't even there this weekend and he was clearly looking for y/n in the garage

user41: the drama is too much for me to keep up with

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 603,487 others

yourusername: only 16 years in the making but we finally got a clue

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user42: i'm going into cardiac arrest

maxverstappen1: finally now i can comment freely about my unbelievably sexy, smart and hilarious girlfriend who i love and defo haven't pined over for ten years

yourusername: awwwww maxy, if it makes you feel better i've liked you for that long as well

user43: hmmmm idk this all seems a bit fake

yourusername: babes i still fancied him when he was a lanky, spotty teenager

arthurleclerc: i can confirm this

user44: the way y/n was always so nice and constantly hyping charles and his gf in their comments ... where's charles

user45: tbf she is dating his rival

user44: oh please we all know they never hated each other and have been good friends for years, charles is just being petty

danielricciardo: never thought i'd see the day when max would grow some balls and finally ask you out

yourusername: i thought you were meant to be some great wing man, i didn't see you helping

danielricciardo: i didn't want to get ran over by charles, no thank you

user46: i'm so sad i want bestie charles and y/n back

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, martingarrix and 1,409,875 others

maxverstappen1: some girls might want to ride a ferrari but mine wants to ride a red bull

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user47: THE CAPTION? THIS MAN IS SO UNHINGED

user48: mad max returns and in the form of shady instagram captions

yourusername: but you didn't even let me drive :(

maxverstappen1: babe i love you but you don't have a license and that's a very expensive car

user49: wait don't make me depressed didn't charles say in an interview ages ago that he was going to teach y/n to drive? did this never happen?

yourusername: sorry to ruin your day but i'm still illegal on the road

landonorris: so no photo credits? i watched you guys kiss for so long to get that shot

yourusername: i didn't hear you complaining on the day

maxverstappen1: let him be lonely in peace

landonorris: that's really not the save you think it is but thanks mate

user50: i am so happy that y/n is happy but the way charles can't be happy for her relationship like she always is for me is so sad to me

user51: i get that the charles and y/n situ is sad but she's clearly happy with max leave them be

fin.

note: hope you enjoyed my love, i hope this was kinda what you were envisioning, i'm happy with it but would be up for a part two if people want it lol xx

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen

[greatshell-rider]

Fists to hearts. Senrid grinned, walking on, faster and faster, as everyone he encountered, from officers to guards to servants—all of them, without exception, saluted. Elation bloomed behind his ribs and he began to run. He knew smiling faces could conceal violent intentions; he knew his work was only beginning, that danger had not disappeared, it had only receded. But still he ran. He ran despite tiredness, and hunger, despite worries, he felt light as a bird, the bloom inside blossoming in his heart as joy, and laughter streamed behind him.

i know these books involving the mearsieans are all kinda focused on the concept of kid rulers, and most if not all of the kids express at some point how adults failed them, adults never listen, adults don’t think they’re smart or strong enough to solve problems, etc. the inclusion of the age-slowing spell to keep kids younger for longer functions as both a mechanical tool to keep the kids around long enough to write many books about them lmao, but it also says interesting things about how youth and growing up is perceived and practiced in sartorias-deles.

these kids, the mearsieans, senrid, and lerorans, have all played critical roles in many an adventure, and a fair number of them involving norsunder, all forms of abuse, murder of parents, and other traumatizing events. in short, childhood has not been kind to them. this is most noticeable in senrid and kyale, as they’re closest to said trauma, have had it happen most recently to them, and for the most part until the events of this book had little to no support from other people (in contrast, leander had his loyal woodsmen squad, and the mearsieans have found each other, rallied under clair and cj). senrid has all his anger issues, paranoia, and insecurity about being perceived weak over ethics and white vs black magic. kyale complains about not being the most special person in the room, is snobby about servants, common folk, etc., and reacts to the slightest criticism or guilty feeling with anger. gonna focus more on senrid for this bit. a lot of senrid’s issues comes from how he was denied autonomy as a kid, and that lack of control is manifesting itself as those less-than-desirable characteristics.

this theme of senrid being regarded and treated as a powerless, stupid kid is repeated a lot in the book, perhaps most often in his voice, how it’s high-pitched and when he’s sick, weak, wavery, and described as the sound of many an animal lol. also his round face, skinny short frame, and how easily he resembles “seven out of ten” of the kids in marloven hess lol. senrid enhanced his cheery, careless child persona when under his uncle’s control to protect himself, but even after when he’s trying to secure the throne for himself and win the people’s loyalty, that perception of him being weak because he’s a kid is used against him and is something he has to overcome. which is tricky, since he can’t make himself grow up faster, merely prove to adults that despite his youth he’s still capable of ruling.

which is what makes the youth/age-slowing spell so compelling to me. the series leans dramatically in the opposite way of “kids grow up quick to become capable adults”. rather, our protags retain their youth in DEFIANCE of that perception. the mearsieans use the spell, as well as leander, essentially to take back some of the childhood that was stolen from them. they continue to be kids longer, continue to rule their kingdoms, continue to have adventures, and disdain the adulthood slowly creeping up on them. a big ole fuck you to “you’ll understand when you’re older” yknow lmao. no, they understand now, they’ve been through the shit, but they’re not letting that shit steal even memories/experiences as youth. they’re not growing up just to forget what it’s like to be a kid. they’re gonna damn well enjoy being kids, no matter what the world throws at them.

and though senrid doesn’t have the youth spell on him (yet? don’t remember if he does get it done eventually), his arc still fulfills that attitude, as seen in the quoted paragraph way up yonder. rather than walk slow and proud, dignified as some other ruler might try to be, to convey strength and wisdom to their subjects, senrid grins at seeing the salutes. he runs! he runs and laughs as he runs through the castle, as he never could before, the very image of a young and carefree child. embracing that youth, celebrating it, rejoicing in being a kid AND having control of his kingdom. it’s the first time in the whole damn book that we see senrid simply happy, not even a bit of sarcasm, and it’s incredible to behold. he’s no longer afraid to be seen as a kid, because he is a kid, and doesn’t feel it necessary to smother that part of him just because adults might look down on him for it.

maybe i missed it in the books i read as a kid but as an adult now it feels particularly important to point it out and emphasize it. i’ve read those posts saying kids as the heroes in their story with the useless adults are problematic or unrealistic and stupid, as well as the counterarguments about how it’s important for kids to see themselves as active forces that can cause change yknow, and i think these books do a nice job of showing both of that. yeah, it’s fucked up that kids have to step up and do adults’ job for them. but it’s also, like. not too surprising? kids are people. they’re gonna do shit, go on adventures, solve problems, and have traumatizing things happen to them. that doesn’t mean their childhood is forever ruined or tarnished in some way and they’ve automatically jumped up to some sort of pseudo-adult. nah. they’re kids still, AND they pulled off those heroics, even if, like in kitty’s case, said heroics are mostly sticking around, giving messages, and not dying. in this (fictional and real) world? not dying is pretty damn fucking impressive. no small thing to sniff at. and life? even as still a kid? especially still as a kid? that’s something to CELEBRATE

#yall i think i like senrid a lot #is neat [pats on head] #could write a separate thing on how cj's silly insults and curses are another aspect of her holding strictly to her childhood even in #''''''adult'''''' situations #senrid #sartorias-deles #i genuinely don't know if other YA/middle grade books display this nuance and if im only now seeing it in smith's books but i do think it's #neat how well it's portrayed in smith's books. people shit on kids so much these days it's gonna make me start biting #even '''''''progressive''''''' types yknow :p still shitting on kids for various reasons. shut up shut up shut up killing you with a bat etc #how FUCKING QUICKLY people forget what it's like to be a kid. fucking embarrassing and shameful #ANYWAY CHILDREN'S RIGHTS I'LL SHUT UP NOW (MAYBE UNLESS I WRITE ANOTHER SENRID POST HEHE0

[literaila]

three things

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)

warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo

last part | next part

*

year one.

"no, satoru." 

how many times have you said that today? 

how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 

oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 

megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.

it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 

because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.

you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 

so you're not sure what to expect. 

because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 

the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 

it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 

"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 

"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 

"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 

you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 

satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 

the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 

you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 

how long will it take before you finally ask him--

you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 

"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.

you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.

you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 

satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 

"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.

megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 

"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.

"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.

"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 

"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.

you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 

megumi swallows. "i like dango." 

"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 

"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 

you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 

you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 

tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 

honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 

after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 

he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 

after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.

"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 

"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 

"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 

the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 

satoru is already looking at you. 

"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 

"what what?" 

you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 

satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why are you acting weird?" 

"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 

he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 

you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 

"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 

you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 

satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 

"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 

"everyone?" 

"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 

he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 

you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 

"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.

"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 

"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 

"by invading his space?" 

"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 

"you antagonize." 

satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 

the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 

it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 

"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 

"about the kids?" 

"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 

he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 

and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 

"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 

"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 

"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 

"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 

"maybe it's too much, too fast." 

satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 

"everything." 

satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 

how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 

and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?

satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 

"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 

he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 

you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 

"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 

you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 

"hey, yes he does." 

"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 

"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 

you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 

he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 

when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 

"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 

she nods immediately. 

you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 

something inside of you warms, just briefly. 

and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 

"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 

"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 

megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 

"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 

megumi glowers. 

"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 

"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 

tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 

"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 

and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 

satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.

something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 

you try not to flinch away from the contact. 

and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 

he's trying to be reassuring. 

so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 

"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.

*

later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 

"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.

it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.

the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.

as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 

*

next part

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #a typical family

[pirateprincessblog]

in vino veritas

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!hongjoong x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!hongjoong, bratty!reader, artist!hongjoong 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, oral (m receiving), toys, gagging, hint of ddlg

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: divorced parent child, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i always write the reader as inexperienced or innocent, this time i'm trying a different approach hehe hopefully it works!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔,

𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔. 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉. 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓.

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈.

it is a challenge to find an outfit appropriate for the evening. you do not wish to go, not since your mother has made it clear she is going only for mr kim. your father, as his best friend since childhood, would be there, and your mother couldn't pass the opportunity to continue her game of jealousy since their separation.

"bold of you to assume that mr kim will even lay his eyes on you." you comment, passing by her room and glancing at her outfit choice. a red dress shorter than her knees with a low neckline. a classic. funnily enough, she used the very same dress to separate your father's then girlfriend from him and took him for herself. she is your mother, but you don't close your eyes at her mistakes. "besides, you're not twenty anymore. that dress doesn't look flattering at all. it's not age appropriate."

"god, just like your father. insults, insults-"

"oh, so when i kiss your ass i am like you, but when i disagree with you, i am like my father? how lovely."

"go to your room and get dressed."

"why do i have to go? you're the one who's trying to get dicked down toni-"

"go to your room!"

defeated, you groan and slam your door shut, then throw yourself on the bed. even with your head buried under your pillows, you still hear her obnoxious voice.

"and don't talk back to me! you've become very rude, and i will not have you embarrass me in front of our friends there! especially not in front of hongjoong."

you don't remember mr kim. you only know that he had a wife, that she also cheated, much like your mother, and since then he only travels and creates art wherever he goes. ever since you got the invitation, you've been trying to find out how he looks now. but all he posts on his social media is the destinations he's visiting, food and sneak peeks of his art. not even a glimpse of him in any picture. come to think of it, your mother's standards are pretty high. your father had your school friends coming over to your house just for him, you can only imagine what mr kim looks like.

deciding on a simple short sweater dress and knee high boots, you put your coat on and head into the autumn evening. your mother trails behind, having difficulties with walking in such high heels. you don't wait, still angry about her plan involving your poor father and an innocent man.

it is only seven in the evening, and something tells you that you'll be here for a very long time. at least midnight. on the bright side, you'll finally see your father. and meet the mystery man behind all the artwork you've been admiring. he doesn't post much of it, but what you've seen, it's pretty damn amazing.

"dad!" you spot him as soon as you enter the crowded space, your father with his recognizable thomas shelby outfit and a glass of whiskey in his hand. you hug him, tight as always, and subconsciously smell him. tobacco, whiskey, and vanilla. home.

"hey, kid." he returns the hug, a little less tight than yours as to not hurt you. "oh you smell great! that the new perfume i got you?"

"oh, i absolutely love it. i bathe in it every day."

"i'm so glad you like it." he gently ruffles your hair, enough to show affection but to not mess it up completely. "now, where's ursula?"

"very mature, calling your ex wife a cartoon villain. what, i put on a few pounds, so what?"

"it's not about the pounds, and you know it."

you turn your head away from your mother, hiding the laugh that is threatening to escape. but she catches the way your father winks your way, and claps her hands, causing a few heads to turn.

"a father and daughter teaming up on her mother. lovely. if you love him more than me, why don't you go live with him?"

you finally look at her, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "you threatened to hurt yourself if you saw me exit the house with a suitcase. you guilt tripped me, called yourself an awful mother and whatnot. what are you on about?"

defeated, she tries to push the glass of whiskey out of your father's hand, and when failing to do so, she groans and stomps down the gallery hall. and yet she calls you two mature sarcastically.

"i truly hope she finds someone crazy enough to handle her, just so you can finally move out and have a life of your own. is she giving you a hard time?"

"i can handle her. usual guilt tripping and nagging, nothing new. how was your trip?"

your father happily tells you all about his recent trip to spain and france, which was mr kim hongjoong's gift to him for birthday. he went on and on about all the food he tried, all the buildings and art he saw, and how fun and informed about everything mr kim was.

"he knew so much that i was ashamed to be walking with him sometimes. i didn't know the difference between baroque and rococo. hell, i didn't know what rococo even was. i'm definitely taking you to see la sagrada familia on my next week off."

"sounds great, dad."

"listen, i'm gonna go find the restroom, too much whiskey," he whispers, "you feel free to walk around and watch. if you see something you like, i'll ask hongjoong for the price and i'll get it for you."

you look at him with a scoff, but when you see that he is dead serious, you raise your eyebrows. "what? you'd buy an art piece worth thousands of pounds?"

"family discount," he winks at you once again, then disappears into the crowd.

"a drink, madam?" someone says next to you.

your eyes land on the tray with glasses of red and sparkling wine, the person holding it dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, hair slicked back and white gloves on his hands.

"no thanks, i don't drink."

he nods understandingly, then continues his journey towards the arriving guests. you were never one to buy art. well, you weren't exactly one to be really into it. you see a picture, a sculpture or something similar, you think it's neat. do you go out of your way to find out the artist, or search for more? not quite. but walking down the waxed floor under the rich chandeliers and looking at the massive paintings, you might get into it. finally, something that is not minimalism or some picasso-wannabe shit. stunning golden frames, detailed paintings, and harmony of colours on canvas. all of it put together so perfectly, as if it was brought back from the times of renaissance and not painted in an atelier just outside of town earlier this year.

"drink?"

"i said no already, thanks." you reply, not bothering to look at the person.

"just a sip? to loosen up. you look rather stiff."

you turn your head towards the voice, confused as to why the waiter is persistent. but next to you stands a well dressed man, two glasses of red wine in his hands. he wears black slacks, a tight black turtleneck, and a long black coat. his eyes are pools of honey under the yellow chandeliers, and his hair shiny streaks of gold. he looks breath taking, and you almost thank your mother for dragging you here.

he holds the wine glass for you to take, and you do so. he raises his own towards you, then takes a sip of it, not once breaking eye contact with you. you bring yours to your lips, and the alcohol barely touches them before you move it away. you were never a fan of alcoholic drinks. they tasted awful, and brought out the worst in you. you don't want to embarrass your father tonight. or yourself in front of this gorgeous looking man.

"you've spent quite some time looking at this. admiring the work or surprised at the nudity?"

you scoff, looking at the painting again. gradually going down the hall, the art becomes less art and more erotica. how disappointing. "not admiring, that's for sure."

"oh? how so?" he asks, intrigued.

"well, for starters, very unrealistic. such big breasts and such a tiny waist? has that hongjoong ever seen a woman in his life?"

he laughs along with you, taking another sip of his wine. "i heard he paints with live models, so i'm guessing that this woman really exists somewhere."

"alright, i'll let you have that one. what about this? very inaccurate." you walk over to the next painting, pointing out all the things you were dissatisfied with.

"even an art critic isn't this harsh. it's just art, at the end of the day. an artist's way of escaping and creating his own world to get lost in. nothing wrong with that, right? writers and readers have books, gamers have games, chefs have cooking and baking, and artists have art."

"well, if the artist is an old pervert and all his inspiration comes from naked women, then sure. nothing wrong with that."

after a few moments of silence, you look over at him. he stares at the painting, puzzled. you clear your throat, sensing the awkward air enveloping you both. "i would love to continue this conversation, but if i stay i will only become meaner and accidentally insult you, and i certainly wouldn't want that. i'm passionate when it comes to me being right and proving others wrong."

you give him the glass of wine back with a sour grin, and he returns a scoff of disbelief. "charming."

"wasn't trying to be."

and with that, you leave him standing with two glasses of wine again, just like he approached you. you visit the restroom too, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. all the women are gorgeous tonight, wearing classy dresses and heels, and suddenly you feel underdressed.

"oh my god, your boots are so cool!" as if she heard your overthinking, the girl behind you exclaims. "where did you get them?"

"uh, i think it was a sale at zara. very uncomfortable though, i don't recommend." you reply with a laugh.

"that's okay, they look so pretty it's worth it. anyways, love your makeup." then, she exits the restroom.

you look at your boots, plain black with a chunky heel and over the knees. nothing special about them. still, you appreciate the compliment.

it doesn't take long for you to find your father again, this time in front of a sculpture of, again, a half naked woman. how odd.

"there you are! found anything?"

"no," you reply dryly, and refrain yourself from nasty comments because of his friends.

"well, that's a shame. hongjoong, this is my daughter i've been telling you about."

your heart drops when you hear his name, and then drops a little lower when your eyes lock with the familiar brown ones you just abandoned further down the hall.

"oh, i've had the pleasure," he responds, not looking surprised like you. "an informed young woman, for sure."

so much for embarrassing yourself. if he is offended, he doesn't show it. he only extends his hand as a formal greeting, and when you offer him yours to shake, he turns it over and kisses the top of it. you are baffled, unable to do or say anything. you look over at your father, who doesn't blink an eye to the unusual situation you've found yourself in. mr kim releases your hand, but not before holding eye contact with you just a few seconds longer.

"ah, right, hongjoong is a gentleman. also, if you didn't already notice, he loves women. not like that, of course. they're just-"

"they are my biggest muse. this world's biggest and prettiest treasure."

"charming," you repeat his word from earlier.

he smirks, teasingly. you want to slap the smirk off his face. he adjusts the sleeves of his turtleneck, rolling them up to his elbows and showing off his forearms. it is only then that you notice he isn't wearing the coat anymore, and you have the freedom of shamelessly staring at his body. his forearms are big, painted with bulging veins. the turtleneck hugs his waist and chest perfectly, to the point of slightly showing the outline of his abs. he isn't bulky, but built like a greek statue. he holds himself so elegantly, not bothered what anyone has to say about his work. it's a shame, because you still have a lot to say, regardless of how hot and bothered you are for him at the moment.

"ah, let me just clarify something. in case someone thinks that i'm just an old pervert..." he discreetly glances at you, making your jaw drop slightly, "...all these women have come to me and asked to be painted or sculpted. i have never once asked a woman to undress for me, nor did i sexualize her when she did so herself. i see art, not porn material."

your father seems offended that someone could have made such an assumption. little did he know that the culprit was the young woman right next to him, hiding behind his glass of wine.

"say, hongjoong, how does that work? do i have to send you an e-mail? or just show up at your door?"

if you thought that the situation couldn't get more awkward, your mother decided to prove you wrong.

"mom!" you scold, pink spreading on your cheeks as you look at the people surrounding you.

"what? why wouldn't i want to be painted by such a handsome-"

"unfortunately, at the moment i do not take any commissions. the gallery is my priority."

and just like that, mr kim shuts her down. he spares her no glance, in respect towards your father, or simply because he is disgusted by such an idea and behaviour. he is not stupid, that you notice. he seems to know the difference when someone genuinely wants to be painted, and when someone tries to take advantage of the situation and expects something from him.

as the night goes, you notice that kim hongjoong isn't old like you called him. he is your father's age, sure, but he aged like fine wine. it takes a lot of staring and concentration to notice a few gray strands of hair cleverly hidden among the golden brown ones. you notice that he doesn't talk much. he lets the people around him talk, and only engages when they have a question about a work of his.

you also notice his hands. his fingers, specifically. you can't help but imagine his fingers dipped in clay, shaping it the way his mind intended, his focused gaze and messy hair. you wish to see him at work, at least once in your life. just to satisfy your imagination. because to make a move with a man of that age is just absurd, and disrespectful towards your father. and himself. he just said that he doesn't do it for sexual purposes, and you were almost offering him the same thing as your mother.

awful.

you glance at him one more time, and when you find him already staring at you with an intense gaze, you take it as your cue to leave. a look of hatred, curiosity or lust, you didn't know. you only knew that you felt nervous under his stare, sweat emerging on your skin and stomach turning from fear that he read your mind and caught you thinking about him inappropriately.

"it's a bit late, i'll excuse myself."

"oh, already?" your father asks, planting a kiss on your temple. "i suppose it is quite late. do you need me to walk you back home?"

"no, that's fine. you guys have fun though. oh, mr kim."

mr kim looks at you, surprised that you're addressing him after all night of avoiding his gaze. "yes?"

"wonderful works, truly. thank you for the invite." it's the least you can do after shamelessly shitting on his work in front of him.

"why, thank you. i appreciate it, especially coming from my best friend's daughter. let me walk you to the door."

and you don't get a say in it. your father practically pushes you into his best friend, who skillfully grabs your waist and restores your balance. your breathing seems to stop the few seconds he holds you, grip secure and manly on your body. when he releases you, it feels empty. you wish to be held again, manhandled, thrown around, anything by him.

"listen, i'm sorry for what i said." you say, walking towards the door and keeping up with him.

"mhm," he hums, as if it's not a big deal.

"no, really, i just..."

"it's fine." he says, holding your coat in the air for you.

"i sometimes speak before i think," you put one arm in the sleeve, "and i end up hurting someone or embarrassing myself."

"it's really fine." he says, tone calm and low. he helps your other arm in the sleeve, then, as if he knew your newfound weak spot, he places his hands on your waist and turns you towards him. only now, you are so determined to apologize to him that you don't even notice what he is doing.

"in this case, i did both. mr kim, please, accept my apology." he adjusts the collar of the coat, then buttons it up.

"i told you, it's fine." he is persistent.

you are a babbling mess, trying to correct the image of yourself he has created in his head, which couldn't possibly be good. after all, mr kim hongjoong is way too hot to have a bad opinion about you. you continue speaking, and he continues adjusting your clothes. it is not until he firmly grabs your jaw in his big warm hand that you shut your mouth. you look at him, almost startled, and gulp.

"i appreciate honest opinion. you are the only one who didn't kiss my ass tonight, and i appreciate it more than all the compliments i've gotten. so trust me when i say that it is fine. don't ever apologize for your opinions, you're not that kind of girl."

"what kind of girl do you think i am?"

he smirks, then rubs your cheek with his thumb as he brings your face closer to his. "not a good one, that's for sure."

the words shoot arrows to your core, and you suddenly feel hotter than the hottest summer day. you exhale shakily, not knowing what to do with yourself. he looks satisfied with the reaction you gave him, and decides to finally stop teasing.

"watch the road when crossing." he sends you a playful wink, then opens the door for you.

"thank you," you manage to say, and only nod his way before making your way down the street into the chilly autumn night.

the more time you spend with your father, the more you keep hearing about the artist who won't leave your mind anyway. from his stories, mr kim has been spoiling him rotten. no wonder he isn't home anymore. sitting on your father's porch on his swinging chair and taking in the last rays of sunshine before the harsh winter, you can't help but ask about the mystery man.

"how come he's your childhood best friend but i've only met him that evening?"

"well, you were young. you didn't pay any attention to things that aren't crushes, school and gossip."

"wow."

"it's true. you were just a kid, then a teen. and hongjoong wasn't around much during the day. then, he met ramona and moved with her to a different town. and then, while he was trying to save money and start a family, she was jumping on someone else on the bed that he bought with the last savings. they separated, and hongjoong started travelling just so he could be away from the town. he said everything reminds him of the night he found them. and i accompany him, which is really hard for me as you can see."

"oh, you're living a very hard life at the moment, dad. jokes aside, that sucks for him. do i know her?"

your father scrunches his eyebrows, as if he doesn't want to remember the woman. "she's still around. she was at the gallery, that whore."

it surprises you to hear him say such harsh words. he is usually semi-polite with his speech. mr kim must've really gone through something when even your father reacts like this.

"really? why would she come? did she have the invitation?"

"no, of course not. this isn't a big town, words spread faster than anything. she came with her boytoy to make fun of him, but got shat on when she saw how successful he has gotten. she just looked at me, tried to push the statue like a fucking idiot, then left angrily. i don't know what goes on in that woman's mind."

you scoff, then feel relieved that there was a bigger fool than you there. "how did he become an artist?"

"you can ask him that yourself. he doesn't bite, you know."

you take a sip of the peach tea, then set it aside quickly. still scorching. "why would you say that? i'm not scared of him or anything."

"you were running away from him yesterday. i didn't want to ask because i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a little disrespectful towards him. he was hurt."

"did he tell you that?" you raise an eyebrow.

"no...?"

"he'll live." you simply say, then grab your phone.

you type his name in the social app again, hoping to see a new post. and there it is, a brand new post, just twenty seconds ago. simple pictures from that night, the group posing in front of the museum, then in front of various photos. then, random shots of food, drinks, and finally, you.

you, staring at the photo that you loved the most in the hall, taken from the profile. it looks like something that jumped out of pinterest, and not something that he secretly snapped before approaching you. the photo is so good that you might even post it yourself.

art admiring art, the caption says. you're surely reading too much into it. he doesn't mean it about you. there's multiple people in the photos, for god's sake. but no, your delusional self loves to make an appearance, and thus the filthy thoughts of kim hongjoong resurface again. you've been trying to push it down, especially in front of your father, but one night of insomnia, a fresh image of kim hongjoong in a tight turtle neck grabbing your face, and a hand down your sleepwear, you've fallen into the void.

now, you can't escape it. you fantasize about him, day and night, stalk his accounts, even take the longer route to work just to pass by the museum in hopes of catching a glance of him. but all you've gotten is sore feet and more sexual frustration. nothing helps anymore, not a single toy that you have once neatly packed under the bed and were collecting dust up until recently. so when your father asks you to drop some things over at the atelier, you are happy to do it.

when you hear the word atelier, you expect a cozy little room in an old building with wooden furniture and with the smell of paint. but you forget that kim hongjoong is filthy rich. the address your father has given you takes you to a whole wooden cabin just outside of town, surrounded by a light forest. you gulp, realizing what situation you are in.

you are about to be alone with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. you are about to walk into his personal space. and you have to keep your thoughts collected, just in case he is a good people reader. and you somehow feel like he is. you are wet just standing outside, holding the bag of items your father has sent him and shamelessly thinking about all possible ways he would fu-

"oh, hi. i thought i saw someone standing there. please, do come in." mr kim calls from the door, wiping his hands with a cloth. you see stains of paint all over them, and paired with his bulging veins, you realize that you aren't the strongest soldier today and that you have to run home to a certain device as soon as possible.

"good evening, sir. i actually just came to drop this off, per my father's request." you hold out the bag for him to take.

he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, still standing at the door. "you can approach, the cabin doesn't bite."

you exhale, trying to calm your heart beat. it feels like it's going to jump out and plunge straight into his face. you finally make your way towards him, trying to avoid his gaze. you don't know if he does it on purpose, but it is so intense that it feels like even your hair is sweating. he is looking you up and down as you approach, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. he takes the bag from your hand, seeing that you don't plan on speaking yet.

"and i don't bite either." he smirks, then goes back inside the cabin.

"i wish you did," you mumble, then follow after him.

the place smells like paint, just how you imagined. and it is much cozier than it looks outside. you finally get a good look at him, now that his attention is on the contents of the bag. he wears a halfway unbuttoned white dress shirt, almost see through, black slacks, and has messy hair. as if he read your thoughts, he runs his fingers through it, taming the golden strands and showing off his finely aged face.

"a drink?" he asks, hand reaching for the wine bottle that sits on the table among the brushes. "ah, right. i forgot."

he pours himself a glass instead. you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate it, you really do. but for him? no, you're not like that. not with your father's friend, god no.

"this one is actually very sweet. it doesn't have that much alcohol in it. want a sip?"

he holds his own glass for you to try. under the warm yellow lights, you see the outline of his lips on the edge of the glass. you feel ashamed that you do take the glass, and press the lips on the same outline. it takes every ounce in you not to jump into his arms and make out with him like there's no tomorrow. but you manage, only taking a sip of the dark liquid before returning the glass to him. you keep the liquid inside your mouth, afraid to let it pour down your throat. you are not ready for the stinging and bitter aftertaste. but the longer you hold it, the more you look like a squirrel with puffy cheeks and your eyes tear up.

mr kim notices, and chuckles. not mockingly, but maybe a bit fondly. he approaches you, taking your jaw into his hand again. you notice the dried paint on his fingers, and his rolled up sleeves again. his eyes look into yours, and if he wasn't holding your head up so you can look at him, you would surely turn around and leave. it is too much, yet you don't have many options at the moment. to look away, or to maintain the eye contact. he seems to be into it, and so you give it to him. you are starting to be into it too.

his thumb rubs your cheek, much like that night. his eyes roam your face, as if he is memorizing every single detail on it. he licks his lips, and his gaze softens. "swallow for me."

in the dead silence, you can almost hear your sanity shatter. you do as he tells you, with no thoughts in your brain. the liquid stings your throat, but the growing lust inside of you overshadows it. you subconsciously lick your lips, mimicking him. he smiles to himself, noticing it.

"good girl."

what you didn't expect is for him to turn around and sit on the wooden stool, rolling his sleeves further up and getting back to his painting. you stand in the middle of the room, red faced, warm and with drenched panties, shocked at his behaviour. does he do this with his models too? gets flirty, then continues his work like nothing happened? is that how he gets such erotic paintings?

"you can sit on the couch if you want, i'll be done soon. i can drive you back."

you sit on the couch, immediately sinking into it. "how did you know i didn't drive here?"

"you always walk," he simply replies, his back still turned towards you and his hands working on the canvas, "i see you every day when you pass by the museum."

oh.

"what do you say? think you can manage with me for half an hour in here? i heard you don't like me much."

your cheeks are redder than ever, lust combined with embarrassment bringing out the worst in you. "i apologized."

you hear him chuckle. "i know. no harm in a little teasing."

minutes feel like hours as you sit upside down on the comfy green couch, legs resting over the backrest and head hanging from the couch above the carpet. he doesn't pay you much attention, but all of your attention is on him. you watch as his back muscles move when he reaches for a certain paint or brush on the high shelves, as his fingers run through his hair to get it out of his face, as his hand rubs the paint into the canvas. you feel a sensation on your clit, seeing his finger rub the paint in such an erotic way that you think it's not a coincidence.

you breathe out, trying to calm yourself again. you could leave, yes. but you don't want to. you're fine. you'll live. you distract yourself with snooping around his drawers next to the couch. you find a clean set of brushes, unused paint, and packages of clay. you play with the brushes, tapping them like drumsticks, then acting out spells from harry potter, and whatnot. until you decide to dim that little spark of dignity you had left.

you glance at hongjoong again, who still sits on the stool and has made progress on the painting. you flip your skirt over, and move your panties aside. using the soft part of the brush, you glide it over your clit, and shudder at the feeling. he stops for a moment, and you hurriedly put the skirt back in place. he doesn't spare you a glance, but simply takes a sip of wine. when he returns to his work, you also return to yours.

your hand reaches for one of the pillows, and gets trapped under your teeth as your other hand continues teasing you with the soft brush. you bite into the poor pillow, tug it and arch your back, all while pleasuring yourself with kim hongjoong's brushes, on his couch, right behind his back. you go painfully slow, as to not make too much noise. you're driving yourself crazy, and you can't help but imagine what wonders he could do to you if he just turned around.

so close to reaching the release, you close your eyes, and throw your head back further, still in the upside down position. the brush works faster, the soft bristles gently but fast brushing against your swollen clit, caressing your nerves just right. so damn close, just a tad bit more, and-

"put that down."

like frost, his voice makes all the heat and lust disappear from your body. you sit still, eyes still closed, hoping that he will just disappear if you do so. that you will get yourself out of the awkward situation.

"i said..." you hear footsteps, and before you can actually listen to him, he grabs you by your jaw again, forcing you to look at him, "...put. that. down."

his eyes are stone cold, eyebrows furrowed. you gulp, feeling so small and miserable under his gaze.

"now."

your hand drops the brush on the couch, then fixes the skirt. you try to sit up straight, but hongjoong's grip on your face is strong. you stay still, waiting for the scolding to begin. you're terrified, you want to disappear. you want to drown in that bucket of paint that sits next to his stool, and never resurface again.

"what the hell do i do with you? first you hate me, then you like me, then you avoid me. now, you ride my painting brushes? how am i supposed to approach this?"

you don't try to speak. you don't trust yourself with words. you can only sound pathetic, begging for forgiveness again. so you decide to keep your mouth shut and let him be disappointed in you. he breaks eye-contact with you, only to have a sip of his wine which he brought over to the couch. he keeps it in his hand, eyes locked on you again. his thumb caresses your bottom lip, while his eyes roam the state of your body. your chest still rises and falls quickly, coming down from an orgasm denial. flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead with hair sticking to it, almost drool covered pillow with bite marks, and your arousal on his brushes and couch.

hongjoong breathes out his nose, a glint visible in his eyes.

"open up." he says, voice raspy and eyes softened.

you do as he says, opening your mouth until his thumb can comfortably sit in it. he massages your tongue, circling it and playing with it. he takes another sip of the dark liquid, then looks at you with that glint again. he removes his thumb, only to bring his head closer and pour the liquid from his mouth into yours. you swallow it without hesitation, too mesmerized and aroused by the situation. never in your life did you think that drinking from someone else's mouth was going to make you almost orgasm.

"good girl," he praises, voice barely a whisper in the silent cabin.

he downs the rest of it, then throws it on the floor aside. the glass cracking makes you twitch, but he is quick to hush you and caress your cheek.

"s-sir-" you finally speak, not even sure what you want to say.

"yes?" the man replies.

"i- i should-" you stutter, trying to come up with anything that will get you out of there, "i should go."

hongjoong raises an eyebrow, believing your words as much as you believe them. his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks. then, he takes the pillow you had just used and gently puts it under your head.

"comfy?"

"yes...?" you say, confused.

"good."

through the opening of his pants, he pulls himself out, wasting no time in giving it a few slow strokes. your mouth waters at the sight, even if it is upside down. his hard, thick cock leaks above your head, ready to be licked clean.

"open up for me, princess."

you shudder at the nickname, and at the way he gently holds your head so that it is aligned with his cock. you open your mouth once again, slightly sticking your tongue out for him. the man presses the tip against your lips, coating them in pre-cum before pushing past them. he grunts, placing both of his hands on your cheeks to hold your head still. the warm muscle glides against your tongue, kissing the back of your neck. you can't help but imagine how it would glide inside of you, slowly, or fast, gently, or hard. you'll take anything he gives you.

"relax your throat, baby." his voice is raspy and quiet in your ears.

you do as told, trying your best to relax it. as soon as you do, hongjoong seems to lose himself a bit. he slams his hips forwards, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat and making you gag around him. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you don't let them. his hand then reaches over to your skirt, flipping it over and exposing your drenched panties still pulled aside.

his fingers find your entrance without teasing, and he dips his finger in so easily. your walls squelch around him, arousal flooding and coating his digits. due to the position you're in, his rough fingers rub your spongy wall exactly how you need it. you squirm under his touch, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't orgasmed yet. he adds two more fingers, stuffing you almost to the brim. you're full of him, in both holes, and a whiny and squirming mess.

he abuses your mouth, admiring the outline of his cock on your neck.

"rub your pretty clit for me, princess."

hesitantly, your fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles and guiding yourself closer to an orgasm. hongjoong's fingers are restless in your hole, pumping in and out, making you moan and whine around his cock. the vibrations must feel good for him, because he throws his head back and groans. entirely lost in the pleasure of your tight mouth against him, he can't help but slam his hips harder and faster, and his fingers start matching the rythym.

you try to beg, but all the words are muffled by his equally abused cock.

"what was that, pretty girl?" he looks down at you, pure ecstasy on his face.

"please-" you somehow manage to say it.

"please? do you know what you're begging for?"

you shake your head. you don't, truly. begging for him to speed up? to slow down? to make you orgasm? or not? you have no idea. you just beg him, to give you everything he has to offer.

the moment is shattered when your phone rings, the word dad on the screen making your stomach turn. hongjoong stops, giving you a moment to collect yourself before handing you the phone. he helps you sit up straight, putting a pillow under you so that you are comfortable. you take a deep breath, who knows which one in the row that day. hongjoong caresses your cheek, as if he wasn't deep inside you both ways just seconds ago. charming, he'd say.

"hello?" you answer the phone.

"hey, kid. did you deliver those things to hongjoong?"

"yes, dad."

"great! i was thinking about inviting him for dinner tomorrow. wanna come and help me?"

"sure thing."

"i was thinking steak, with that whiskey sauce you make..."

you are no longer paying attention, because hongjoong is on his knees in front of the couch. he gently spreads your legs, and looks at you with a mischievous look. you shake your head silently, asking him to not do anything. but all falls in water when hongjoong licks a stripe up your slit and you shake under his touch. your legs close reflexively, but the older man is quick to hold your thighs in place as he devours you on his couch. he makes out with your folds, as if he is kissing your real lips. his tongue teases the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles. he sucks it, tugs it and rubs it, all the things that have your fingers grasping his hair and pulling mercilessly.

his fingers find their way inside you again, curling up so that you get maximum pleasure. a whine escapes your lips, and hongjoong stops everything he is doing. you beg him with your eyes not to stop. you can't go home empty handed. but the man only puts his hand over your mouth, and ever so slowly, slides inside of you. you swallow him so easily, arousal leaking all over him and his couch.

"dad, i really have to-" you gasp, feeling his cock brushing against your sweet spot, "i have to go."

"oh? alright then. so, tomorrow?"

hongjoong grabs your waist, not moving his own hips, but instead slamming your body on his cock and bruising your skin with his strong grip. his hair falls over his eyes, loose strands perfectly decorating his face painted with pure pleasure.

"huh? yes, yes! tomorrow. okay, see you!"

you've never ended a call so fast, and you've never thrown your phone so far away.

"don't hold back, darling. let me hear you."

and that's when you let go. you grip his shoulders, moan into his ear, whine, squirm, whatnot. you certainly don't make it easy for him.

"for an old pervert, you sure are having the time of your life." he teases.

you try glaring at him, but you can barely keep your head up. "just fuck me, please."

"you finally know what you're begging for. only you're not asking properly."

"pretty please?"

"no, you can do better."

you think hard, defocusing from the orgasm chasing for a moment. then, it clicks.

"please, daddy."

hongjoong chuckles happily, and snaps his hips harder into you. "that's a good girl."

something about having sex with clothes on drove you crazy, especially since hongjoong was in his natural habitat and clothing. it pushes you over the edge, seeing him brush his hair back and looking at you with such lust. you're shaking harder than ever, clear liquid squirting out of you and all over him and his furniture. you're in shock, trying to reach your breath, while hongjoong still sloppily fucks his cum into you.

he grunts and hums against your lips, not yet kissing you. which you suddenly find very frustrating.

"you should shit on my art more often, eh?"

with a laugh, you try to cover yourself with the blanket. but hongjoong takes it from your hand, then uses it to wipe the liquid off your body. he tosses it aside, then reaches for his own coat to give it to you. hesitantly, you take it. as you put it on, hongjoong examines your face for any traces of regret. when he sees none, he smiles fondly at you, pressing his lips on top of your hand, just like that night.

"you're a very pretty young woman, you know that?"

"thanks," you say awkwardly.

"you wanted to kiss me, i know. but..."

you roll your eyes, acting unphased.

"...i don't think i'm ready yet."

"you just rearranged my guts, and a kiss is a problem for you?"

he laughs, but not because it's funny, but because you are right. he helps you lay down on the couch, then covers you with the spare blanket. "we'll get there, pretty. right now, i want you to take a power nap before i take you home. got it?"

"got it, sir."

"good girl."

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez smut #ateez imagines #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong oneshot #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshots #ateez oneshot #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x y/n

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Birthday wishes [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.

second part here!

contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly

If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!

The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.

“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”

"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"

"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.

"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"

“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."

“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.

Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.

You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.

You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.

"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"

"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"

"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.

"Why?”

You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.

“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”

When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.

“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.

"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"

"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"

Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.

“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.

You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?

But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.

Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.

He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.

He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.

He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.

Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.

"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"

Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.

“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.

It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.

He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.

While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.

"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.

"What happened?"

“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.

"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.

You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.

“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."

"I guess…"

"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.

“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"

"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"

"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."

With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.

“Spencer, my God, I…”

"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"

"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”

"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay. 

“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.

He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.

“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"

If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.

The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.

One week before…

The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.

"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.

"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"

"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"

"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.

"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"

"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”

"Tell us your plan, precious"

“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”

"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.

"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”

"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"

Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.

“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."

“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"

You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.

“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"

"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.

"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.

Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.

"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"

"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."

“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"

"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."

"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.

Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.

What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.

When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.

The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.

They hadn’t forgotten.

"How…? What are you doing here?"

“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.

A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.

In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.

“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."

Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.

"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."

Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress. 

The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.

"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.

You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.

"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.

"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"

"But you... your work"

"All a vile lie"

"And that boy?"

“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"

"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.

"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.

"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”

A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.

"Seriously, forgive me"

"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"

His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.

"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.

Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.

There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.

He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person. 

At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things. 

"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"

"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.

It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.

The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.

"Peace and tranquility"

"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.

"No, no. Just kidding"

“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage. 

"Everything was wonderful"

"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted

"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."

“You are already thirty… you are so old!”

"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.

"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"

"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.

“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.

The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.

"What's up?"

"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"

"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips. 

Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.

"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."

“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”

"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.

Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day. 

“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."

"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"

Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.

I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.

Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you. 

Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.

Always yours, Y/N.

"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.

"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say. 

He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.

You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.

“Did you like the puzzles?” 

"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”

“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”

"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely. 

"You chose it, remember?"

Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.

Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm. 

"Hey, Spencer"

"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.

“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”

"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"

"Why?" you asked confused.

Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.

"Because my birthday wish was already right here"

It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.

You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you

[magics-neptunes-things]

Open your eyes

Hi guys!

A new one, you can find the ask in here, from the prompt here :) For this one it's the number 2 and 9.

Alexia I miss you :(

Enjoy ♥

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Alexia. You’ve known her since you were a little girl. You met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father. Yours gave it back to them and the first look you exchanged with her was separated by the two pairs of legs of your fathers.

Over the years you have developed a flawless friendship, even if the life paths you have chosen are different. Alexia is a world-famous footballer, and you decided to follow your dream to become a photographer. You studied for that and you work for an agency that offers you mandates that allow you to live in a very comfortable way. And over time you have made your own customers who don't hesitate to contact you directly. Not to mention that, thanks to Alexia’s influence, the Barcelona football club calls you whenever they need official photos.

You have been present for Alexia during her career, attending her ups and downs. You were there during her various operations and Alexia convinced you to agree to participate in the report made on her, "Labor Omnia Vincit". You even gave an interview, some of which was broadcast on that occasion. The title "Childhood Friend and Photographer" made you laugh, because Alexia is much more than that to you.

The truth is, you’re completely in love with her.

You couldn't say how long, but in your opinion always even if you didn't understand the signs right away in your teenage naivety. Lost in your sexuality, you first tried to date boys, before turning to girls. Alexia never showed any signs of attraction to you, so you desperately tried to stifle your feelings for her in other people’s arms when Alexia was cooing with someone else.

It never worked out.

In fact, you’ve been single for about four years now and you’re resigned to ending up an old maid in your apartment with your two cats.

You had the misfortune to confide in Mapi about your feelings during an evening a little too alcoholic in which Alexia didn't participate, And since, she reminds you regularly that you should do something to get out of this situation. Alexia never being very clear about it, the tattooed doesn't really know what are the feelings of the blonde for you. But she told you that anyway, if Alexia has romantic feelings for you, seeing you with someone after so many years could make her react.

You don’t believe it for a second, it never has before so you don’t see why it would change today.

********

"You have to do something Y/N, it’s no longer possible" sighs Mapi.

She’s been watching you nibble the black straw of your cocktail for longs minutes, looking gloomy. Alexia has obviously caught the eye of a girl tonight, with whom she has been talking for quite a while.

"What?" You mutter mechanically in return, not listening to her at all, without leaving Alexia’s eyes.

"I feel like I’m having a drink with Wednesday from the Adams Family" complains Mapi

"Let me guess, I should "Try another girls"? "

You use your fingers to mimic quotes, making Mapi’s rolls eyes.

"Clearly. I can feel your tension from here, you need to get laid."

"Oh fuck off Maria" you sigh as you let yourself go against the backrest of your chair. "Just go with your girlfriend and leave me alone"

You finally turned your eyes away from your best friend, but that’s only because she started looking at you. I’d rather swallow your straw right away than be caught looking at her.

After raising her middle finger in your direction, Mapi actually decides to join Ingrid on the dance floor. This doesn't prevent her from fondly tapping on your shoulder when she gets up.

You sigh and decide it’s time to go home. Alexia is no longer where she was and you’re not sure your nerves will stand to see her exchanging kisses with someone else. But when you get up, you are suddenly face with young woman who looks at you with a hesitant look.

"Hi" said the young woman timidly with an uncertain air.

"Hi?"

Her timid smiles is strange, but you let her explain the reason of her sudden presence next to you.

"Um… it’s probably a little weird, but your friend over there told me you haven’t stopped looking at me all night, and you're like kind of cute so…"

You follow the direction she shows you with her head, but you figured it out before your eyes fell on Mapi. The spaniard addresses you a big smile and a sign of the hand, then a wink too exaggerated. You hold back a sigh and turn your attention to the young woman in front of you. Blonde, with some tattoos, taller than you and green eyes. You weren’t looking at her, but you see very well what Mapi wanted to do. She is unbearable.

"Were you going to go home?" continues the blonde, looking at your purse in your hand and your jacket on your shoulders.

"Um… I was, to be really honest with you"

"Would you mind staying while I offer you at least one drink? Not for long, I swear."

You hesitate for a split second, looking at her thoughtfully. She looks nice and deep down she's not responsible of you being desperately in love with your best friend. You briefly bite the inside of your lip before deciding to accept.

"Great!"

After taking your order, Erika (who just told you her name) hurries to the bar. You sit back at the table, waiting for her return and you thank her with a big smile when she's back. You realize with a certain surprise that you actually get along pretty well. Erika has an easy conversation and you catch yourself laughing at what she tells you. If you don’t notice Alexia watching you from the bar where she’s leaning, Mapi doesn’t miss that little detail. Despite Ingrid who asks her to take care of her affairs.

You’ve been talking to Erika for 30 minutes when Alexia comes to sit beside you, putting her hand on your shoulder when she sits next to you.

"Oh hi. I wondered where you’ve been" you smile at her

"At the bar" mumble Alexia.

"Hum, okay" you answer before turning to Erika. "Ale, this is Erika. Erika, this is..."

"Alexia Putellas. I know" Erika smiles in a friendly way before reaching out to Alexia.

Alexia grabs her hand and smiles, but that’s not the kind of smile you like about Alexia. It’s the same kind of smile as when she forces herself on photos, not those that make her eyes shine. You wish you could question her, but you don’t see yourself doing it when Erika is with you.

"Do you want another drink?" Erika offers, putting her hand on yours.

You accept with a smile and she smiles back before getting up from her chair to go to the bar.

"Is everything okay?" You take the opportunity to ask Alexia.

"Why wouldn’t I be okay?"

The answer surprises you, you didn't expect a question back to yours, to be completely honest. Her gaze plunges into yours and you have the impression that it pierces you. You have well understood that something bothers her and as you are about to ask her if it's in relation to the girl with whom she was talking, Mapi lets herself fall loudly in a chair beside you.

"Well then? Where’s your pretty blonde, Y/N?"

"She went back to get us a drink. Besides, wait until I take care of your case" you add pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Oh, no need to thank me, it’s all natural" grins Mapi.

"I hate you" you mumble

"Besides, if I were you, I would join her rather than let her come back to the three of us. Kind of weird to find herself with your two friends."

You also don’t see the annoyed look Alexia gives her, but you’re not sure it’s a good idea. But Mapi doesn’t give you much choice again, forcing you to get up from your chair and push you in her direction. You end up going there and Mapi doesn't wait a single second to turn in Alexia's direction.

"What was that?"

"What?" Alexia groans.

"Your behavior Ale. You were in a good mood until Y/N started talking to Erika"

Alexia answers nothing, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. Now she's the one looking gloomy.

"Wait, where did she go?"

Alexia’s frenetic gaze travels through the room without being able to find you, which annoys her as much as it worries her. While she's about to get up from her chair to go looking for you, Mapi puts a hand on her arm to prevent her from doing so.

"Alexia."

"You don’t know who this girl is and you’re pushing her in her arms," Alexia abruptly says. "She’s probably not good enough for her, since when do we meet great people in nightclubs? Y/N need someone who bought her flower, take her on romantic dates and who will take care of her. That's not the kind of person you met in here."

Mapi remains silent, for so long that Alexia ends up ripping her eyes from the room to report it on the tattooed girl. Who looks at her with a perplexed look.

"I can’t tell if you’re lying to me or if you’re lying to yourself"

Although Alexia’s jaw is tight, Mapi sees her move distinctly when she looks for the right words to respond.

"I don’t know what you mean"

Mapi snorts at such bad faith, gently shaking her head. Since the captain decided to be stubborn, Mapi decides to talk the facts.

"You’re in love with her, Alexia"

Mapi’s tone is accusatory but Alexia answers nothing to it, her gaze stubbornly fixed somewhere in the room and her arms still crossed.

"Why are you reacting like this? Why is this a problem, Ale?"

"She’s my best friend, Maria. She’s known me since we were six"

"Yes, and what?"

"She’ll never look at me that way. I don’t know when my feelings have changed, but I can’t tell her."

"But why not?" Mapi almost shout

"Forget it" Alexia warns.

Mapi rolls her eyes and decides to let it go for the moment, plunging the two friends into a silence for several minutes. If Alexia remains silent, always looking for you everywhere in the establishment, so Mapi takes the opportunity to check that no one tries to approach Ingrid.

You end up coming back about thirty minutes after Alexia lost sight of you. You’re alone, but she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. At any moment you'll tell them you’re going to leave with Erika.

"Where were you?" asks dryly Alexia, looking at you

"Um… in the bathroom?"

"What? With Erika?" Mapi smirks, almost jumping in her chair. "Did you sleep with her?"

"In the bathroom of a bar?"

You bow an eyebrow with a grimace and the shadow of a smile is born on Alexia’s face, despite her arms still crossed on her chest. Mapi shrugs her shoulders with an innocent face and you don’t want to know what kind of things she made in nightclub's bathroom.

"Where is she then?" insists Mapi

"She’s gone home" you shrug

"Without you? Do you even have her number? Did she kiss you at least?"

You blush and it's finally Alexia who puts an end to your ordeal. You are grateful to her, even if you don't know that it's also to put an end to hers that the Catalan decides to intervene.

"Mapi, stop. Now. I’ll go home too, I’ll take you home, Y/N?"

"With pleasure" you smile affectionately at her.

You get your jacket and purse back for good this time and say goodbye to the other girls before following Alexia to the exit.

You smile when you feel her put a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you to her car, even if you know perfectly where it's parked since you arrived together. It's in silence that you sit in her car and Alexia starts it.

"You didn’t answer Mapi’s question earlier"

Alexia’s observation makes you turn your head in her direction, whereas you were lost in the contemplation of the buildings of Barcelona by night.

"And you blushed. You kissed her?"

You sigh softly before shaking your head negatively. You’re not sure that talking to Alexia is the right thing to do, since it’s exactly because of her that things didn’t go further with Erika. When she tried to kiss you, you panicked and left.

"No" you end up answering, looking out the window with a new found passion.

You miss the relief that passes on Alexia’s face when she hear your answer. She doesn’t need to know why, just to know that nothing happened is enough for her. So it's with a little more joy that she brings you home and with a real smile that she accepts when you offer her to sleep at your home again that night.

"What about you? You didn't tell me what happened with your beautiful stranger" you point out once installed on your sofa with a bottle of water in hand and a shit telenovela on TV.

"Because there is nothing to tell. We just talked"

You just hums, leaning your head against her shoulder. You sigh with happiness when she puts her arm around your waist and you don't hesitate to cuddle up against her. If you have to keep your feelings quiet, at least you have the chance to find some physical comfort from her.

"So it wasn't because of her you were upset?"

You feel Alexia lean slightly against you and you cross her eyes when you raise your head to be able to look at her. There is something special in her eyes and you can't say what it is. It's a first in your life, you like to say that you're one of the people who knows Alexia the best.

"No" answer simply Alexia at first. "I just... I don't know. It was weird seeing you with another girl again"

You shrug, not realizing what she really mean. You are too used to silence your feelings and it has been many years since you have well integrated that Alexia sees you only as a friend.

"I’m not sure I’ll see her again anyway"

"Good. She’s probably not good enough for you"

You answer with a simple shrug again, putting your head back on her shoulder. You don’t realize that Alexia is frying her brain, trying to extricate herself from the conversation you’re in. Seeing you with someone else made her realize that it was time she tried something before it was too late. But she doesn’t know how to make you understand things without being too shocking or surprising for you.

"Maybe I should try Tinder or something" you mumble.

"Don't be stupid. You're better than that"

Alexia’s answer is dry, but you don't even react, imagining that it's only the disgust that this kind of application gives her that speaks. And not the idea of imagining you in the arms of someone else who annoys her prodigiously.

"I don’t have many other solutions left" you point out to her when you stand up to put your bottle of water on the table.

"Maybe you should just… open your eyes?"

"What do you mean, open my eyes?" you ask while arching an eyebrow.

Suddenly, Alexia decides that she's tired of this conversation that goes around again and again. That seems to lead you nowhere. She doesn't want to rush you but gently make you realize the reality of her feelings for you. But she feels like you will never understand.

So, she takes advantage of the fact that you are sitting and no longer lying against her to catch the necklace that she offered you for your birthday, using her index finger to attract you against her. Without you really understanding how, her lips are against yours and the way you feel is even better than you’ve ever imagined.

Alexia’s lips are soft, as you dreamed about it. They taste like her lip balm and not alcohol since she has not consumed it all evening. You briefly wonder if yours tastes like mojito, before this question evaporates when you feel her tongue caressing your lower lip.

From there, the kiss becomes a little more intense and you forget everything else. You’re not even sure you can identify yourself if you’ve been ask when the kiss stop so you can both breath again. You keep your eyes closed for a few seconds, to soak up as much as possible of this moment and not forget the slightest detail.

When you open your eyes, Alexia’s eyes are looking at you with a multitude of emotions. She seems to be as breathless as you. Which is probably a good news, thus testifying that you aren't the only one to be under the blow of this kiss. Moreover you don't fight yourself for long before you let your desire to start again. So you bend in her direction for a new kiss.

Alexia answers it, but takes off from you too fast for your taste. You hear her giggle softly when you whine and your lips chase hers, but you step back when you feel her hand resting on your stomach to stop you. Frowning, you look at her wondering what is more important than enjoying these new sensations.

"I just… before I go on… I mean… it’s not just like that, right? Does it mean anything to you too?" ramble Alexia.

"Of course you do" you smile softly at the blonde’s hesitation "You always meant the world to me, Ale."

"Perfect" smiled Alexia before leaning over you for a new kiss. "Now we can kiss again."

And you do. This one won’t be interrupted by thoughts of one or the other. After all, you’ll have plenty of time to discuss all this tomorrow.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

[ghostbsuter]

Damian was 10 when he was shipped off to his father.

He was 10 when he finally decided enough was enough, packed his stuff, called Mara, and the ball went rolling.

The moment Talia left the mansion, the DNA test confirmed, and Bruce emotionally compromised, did he finally move.

He'd stared his father down, felt nothing when he stood up and mild annoyance bloomed when his father asked– demanded– where he was going.

"You're a fool if you believe I will stay here." He spat, eyening the man in disdain.

It became very apparent that Damian wasn't what Bruce thought he'd be, what Talia thought he was.

"Your mother entrusted me with your safety–"

"I don't need protection. Mother wouldn't care if I stayed or not." He blinks. "Where is the cave? I wish to use the computer, I have people to contact."

Reluctantly, Bruce shows him the way, questions of who and why, and the plans he apparently had were asked.

Damian answers with vague wordings and enough open spaces for interpretation. Words greatest detective, he can figure it out himself without damian spelling it out for him.

When they do arrive in the batcave, Tim Drake— Robin— was sitting at the computer.

Huffing, Damian shoved the entire chair away from the table, taking its place and started typing.

"W— hey! What—? Who?" Tim looked between Bruce and Damian, despite being sleep deprived his eyes caught on the similarities, mouth dry and mind calculating.

"Does Dick know?" Is all he asks, leaning back and watching the younger boy work.

"Not yet."

A heavy sigh.

"Silence," the boy huffs, annoyed. "I'll have to make a call."

Glaring daggers, he pulls out a old burner phone, pressing the single number saved inside and waits.

"Damian."

"Hello, brother."

('Oh. Did he have another?' Tim wonders, watching Batman's face, blank like a paper sheet. Nothing. It feels like all his efforts of bringing the man back were just flushed.)

—

Or in simpler words:

Danyal al Ghul, the first successor of the demons head, born with his twin Athanasia al Ghul, to be the future of the league.

They were reborn with their former memories, stuck in place, constantly watched and trained. Manipulated. Weaponized.

All for a man playing immortal.

They'd only started planning when two more children came into the picture, Damian and Mara Al Ghul.

Danyal now Daniel "Danny" and Athanasia now Eleanor "Ellie" Nightingale took matters into their own hands and separated to take the kids in and end this.

End the league. End the cycle of whatever this, this cult is, and take over.

In many universes, Ra's al Ghul does not die, always returns, wielding his people like mere weapons.

In this universe, Danyal al Ghul is acknowledged as a traitor, killer of the Demons head and Older Brother, borderline father even, to his tiny brother Damian al Ghul.

In this universe, he raises Damian instead of Talia, shows him the cracks of this careful manipulated picture and listens when Ellie tells of her travels to this tiny child with a sad sad fate.

In this universe, Ellie takes in their tiny cousin, shielding her from the cruel eyes of a man not worthy. She trains her, shows her the ropes and takes her along when she leaves.

In this universe, Damian al Ghul and Mara al Ghul live a good live, protected by the twins of old souls and have a somewhat normal if not very complicated childhood.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #Danny is Damians older brother/father #Danny aka Danyal al Ghul #Ellie aka Athanasia al Ghul #Dani is Maras mentor/parental figurine #Danny and Dani got reincarnated as twins in the league #the reason Damian and Mara suffered so much under Ras was because he alr had a granddaughter and son #why a pair more if they cant even surpass the first ones? he blatantly ignores the huge age gap #danny killed ras #Bad parent Tali #bad parent bruce #bruce wayne tries #damian just doesnt care bcs he alr got a father figure #why one more? #to dami talia is more a of a teacher #and what does he do with teachers he doesnt like? get rid of them #sorry talia love #anyway clockwork is having a field day with his fav drama show #for funnsies #adding Dan as Jasons mentor for the rage issues #Mara al ghul my beloved #Damian is NOT interested in the Robin title!!!! #he is much more serious about the phantom family name

[wineauntie]

Hughes!sister where maybe she’s the youngest, and gets her first boyfriend?

Angst twist he cheats on her 😨

LOOK AFTER YOU – Hughes brothers x hughes sister!reader

summary: break ups are the worst, but your brothers are there to make things better.

note: angst and the boys being absolute angels (kind of!). Titled after the song "Look after You" by the Fray!!

warnings: cheating, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n and y/n/n, implying of sexual acts, angst, friend betrayal,

word count: 2.3k+

You couldn't tell if the wetness on your cheeks were tears or apart of the pouring rain that surrounded you. You also couldn't tell how long you'd been walking in the rain with your arms cradled to your chest as your heart broke.

Your boyfriend of ten months had cheated on you...with your best friend, of all people.

You'd taken the bus over to her house to drop off some ice cream because she'd cancelled plans claiming she was "sick". The door was unlocked and having known your best friend since you were four, and knowing that you were basically family, you had walked right in.

You had called out her name, but when you'd listened closely you could only hear loud bangs coming from upstairs. Startled, you grabbed a rolling pin from the countertop and ventured upstairs.

"Oh come on baby, you know you like it,"

You had paused in your steps, your heart pounding painfully as the voice echoed. You knew that voice. You knew that tone.

"Oh, yeah?"

Your friend's voice teased from the room down the hall. Your eyebrows furrowed as a pang of trepidation rang through your body, you took a few more steps down the hall, avoiding all the obvious creaks.

Your mind was screaming at you to leave, but your gut encouraged you to continue.

"Does she take you like this? Does she feel as good as I do?!" Your friend's moaning made you inwardly cringe. Her high-pitched voice was awkwardly timed and trying hard husky in a way you knew to be fake.

"y/n? Never...you know that,"

Your eyes widened at the voice as blood rushed into your ears. In an impulsive move, you bound forward and shoved open the door to the room. You heard joined gasps and clattering as your best friend and boyfriend separated as much as they could.

He had, had her bent over her childhood bed, both stark naked with their hands up almost comically.

You had let out a stiff laugh, a sob bubbling in your throat as you dropped the rolling pin.

"Wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like!" Your best friend had cried out, her widened eyes full of tears.

"So you're not sleeping with him?" You had scoffed, trying to keep your tears at bay as you glanced between the two. Your friend had gone to speak again before you'd raised a hand silencing her. "Y'know what? I don't care. I'm done with you...both of you!"

You had let out a breath before you rushed out of the house, ignoring all of the yelling for you to come back and to stay and to talk this out. Your bottom lip had trembled as you half-ran, half-walked down the street, knowing that you'd taken the last bus to visit your friend.

As you had walked home, you replayed the moments of your relationship in your mind, searching for clues, for signs that you had missed. But the memories were like shards of glass, sharp and fragmented, cutting through the fragile fabric of your hope.

By the time you reached the familiar street where you lived, the rain had soaked through your clothes, seeping into your skin like the cold tendrils of betrayal. You quickened your pace, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The warm glow of light spilt from the windows, casting long shadows on the rain-slick pavement below.

With a deep breath, you gathered the shattered pieces of your resolve and stepped forward, your freezing hands shaking as you unlocked the door. Stepping into the home had you fighting your vicious sobs, as your hand covered your mouth.

"Y/n? Honey? Is that you?"

You let more tears spill over onto the flesh of your cheeks at your mom's soothing tone. Crap! You glanced down at your watch with a groan. You'd missed family dinner.

This wasn't good.

"Yeah, Mom," you called back, your voice cracking slightly as more tears escaped the corners of your eyes. Your head tilted upwards as you silently begged to not be beckoned into the room. "I'm just going to go dry off!"

"Y/n/n? Come here!"

You choked on a sob as Jack's usual teasing voice joined your mom's. The sound of chatter and eating paused and you knew there was no avoiding your family at this rate. You sucked in a breath before you entered the dining room, drops of rain dripping across the floor as you went.

As you stepped into the dining room, the warmth enveloped you, contrasting sharply with the chill that had settled deep within your bones. All eyes turned toward you, concern etched on your family's faces as they took in your dishevelled appearance.

"Y/n, what happened? Why are you all wet?" your mom asked, dropping her fork with a voice laced with worry.

"Oh, it's...uh, nothing," You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside you. "Just got caught in the rain, that's all." You watched as Luke and Jack furrowed their brows, yet continued to chew through their food as you trembled from the cold outside.

But Quinn didn't seem to be buying it.

He studied you, with a penetrating gaze. "Are you sure? You look upset." He pushed, leaning back in his seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine, really," You averted your eyes, unable to meet his gaze as your lips shook. "I'm going to...I'm going to go dry off."

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" Your dad spoke up, his tone gentle yet probing.

"N-no," you croaked in response. Without another word, you fled. You could feel the weight of their concern bearing down on you like an oppressive blanket. With shaky steps, you ran from the echoes of their worried voices as they followed you like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind.

Each step felt heavier than the last as you ascended the stairs, the creaking of the wooden boards beneath your feet a sombre melody accompanying the turmoil within you. The tears threatened to spill over again, blurring your vision as you reached the sanctuary of your room.

Collapsing onto your bed, you buried your face in the pillow, muffling the anguished sobs that wracked your body. The betrayal gnawed at your insides, a relentless beast tearing apart the remnants of trust and love you had held dear.

Your best friend was practically your sister, the two of you had been joined at the hip since meeting in pre-school and the fact she'd slept with...been sleeping with your boyfriend.

That betrayal hurt more than your actual boyfriend's betrayal.

You'd trusted her. You'd told her every single detail of your relationship with him, including your insecurities about not being enough for him or not having enough experience to be with him, with him being your first-ever boyfriend.

Despite going out with your boyfriend for ten months, you'd never told your brothers. Your mom and dad knew you were in a relationship but whenever you organised for him to meet your parents, he always found something to come up so that he couldn't. You weren't sure he'd even told his family that the two of you were together but you dismissed all those red flags because you had loved him and he had said he loved you back.

A soft knock on the door drew you out of your misery as you lifted your head from your now wet pillow.

"I'll be down in a minute," you called out in a shaky voice that was half-muffled by the pillow. You heard the door creak open and you buried yourself further into the comfort of your bed. "Please don't...just leave..." You felt someone settle on the side of your bed.

"Y/n/n? We're not leaving,"

You rolled over, exposing your puffed face and reddened eyes. Quinn sat beside you whilst Jack and Luke lingered by your door, both awkwardly standing with their hands in their hoodie pockets.

"Please just go," you mumbled with a sniffle. Quinn lightly shook his head, his hand brushing your mussed hair out of your face.

"What about 'we're not leaving' wasn't understood?" Quinn tutted, resting his hand on the side of your head. "You're upset."

"Great observation," you choked, shifting out of his comforting grasp. You were hit with a twinge of guilt as you shuffled away from your eldest brother. More tears escaped your eyes as you spoke again. "I just want to be left alone."

Quinn sighed softly, his gaze filled with understanding as he reached out to gently wipe away your tears. "I don't know why you're hurting, y/n," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. "But pushing us away won't make it any easier. Let us be here for you."

His words cut through the walls you had built around yourself, chipping away at the barriers you had erected to keep the pain at bay. With a heavy sigh, you relented, allowing yourself to lean into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence.

Jack and Luke exchanged a silent glance before slowly making their way into the room, their footsteps hesitant as they approached your bed. Jack cleared his throat awkwardly, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the face of your distress.

"We're not going anywhere, y/n," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity as he sat on the end of your bed. "We're your brothers, and that means we get to beat up people who make you sad... let us help?"

Luke nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring the concern etched on Jack's face. "Yeah, y/n/n," he added as he cleared his throat. "We're here for you."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were not tears of despair, but tears of gratitude. With a shaky breath, you reached out and squeezed Luke's hand that had outstretched towards you.

"I had a boyfriend," you sucked in a breath as the three around you stiffened and straightened up, exchanging glances as you spoke.

"Boyfriend? You've got a boyfriend?!" Luke burst, breaking the silence of the room.

"Not the time," Jack scowled, smacking him across the head.

"Had?" Quinn softly prompted, his eyebrows furrowing as you nodded.

"For ten months," you confirmed with a gulp, hot tears trailing down your cheeks.

"Ten?!" Luke exclaimed once more, but this time both, Jack and Quinn, reached out to hit him. "Okay, okay, sorry!" You let a small and amused smile at your brother's typical antics as you furrowed deeper into your bed.

"We dated for ten months and..." you pushed as your voice broke. "I found him in bed with my best friend."

Quinn's expression softened, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I'm so sorry, y/n," he said softly, his voice tinged with empathy. "That's a lot to deal with."

Jack's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at the thought of someone hurting you in such a way. "Those two are dead meat," he muttered under his breath, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

Luke's eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to find the right words. "I can't believe they would do that to you," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with disbelief. "And you've known her since you were younger!"

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face as you recounted the painful betrayal. "I trusted them," you whispered, the weight of the betrayal heavy on your heart. "And I...I thought they cared about me, but guess I was wrong, wasn't I?" You let out a terse laugh, that became engulfed by another sob.

Upon the change, Quinn wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up into a comforting embrace. "They don't deserve you," he said firmly, his voice laced with conviction. "You're better off without them."

Jack nodded in agreement, his expression fierce as he clenched his jaw. "We've got your back, y/n," he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "Say the word and they're both dead."

Luke reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your knee. "I can egg their houses?" he suggested softly, his eyes reflecting the unwavering support of his words.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of their support lift some of the burden from your shoulders. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Quinn pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace offering warmth and solace amid your pain. "I'm glad you told us...you don't have to do anything alone," he assured you, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room. "None of us want to see you hurt and alone, what kind of brothers would we be if we let that happen?"

Jack and Luke nodded in agreement, their expressions determined as they echoed Quinn's sentiment. "We've got you," Jack reiterated, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"Now, why don't you get up and get changed," Quinn suggested, his nose shrivelling as he thumbed the fabric of your soaking T-shirt. "You're shivering and your lips are blue." Your fingers reached up and brushed your lips which were freezing to the touch. "We saved you some dinner, so go shower and change."

"We can have a movie night or something, " Luke threw in, his eyes wide in realisation. "We haven't had one in a while...not since last summer at least."

"I'm with him on that," Jack agreed, pointing to Luke with his thumb. "We can make a quick trip to the store and grab snacks while you get ready." You bit your lip to stifle a fond smile as you slowly pushed yourself to put your feet on the ground.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. With a shaky breath, you wiped away the last traces of tears from your cheeks, steeling yourself against the lingering ache of betrayal.

With newfound resolve, you straightened your shoulders and met your brothers' gaze with a small yet genuine smile. "Let's have that movie night," you said, determination lacing your words. "I could really use a distraction right now."

Quinn returned your smile, his eyes reflecting pride and admiration. "That's the spirit," he smiled, his voice filled with warmth. His hand squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as you passed him.

As you made your way to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of your tears, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain of betrayal, you knew that you were not alone. With your brothers by your side, you would weather this storm and emerge stronger than before.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #hughes brothers x reader #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #wineauntie #quinn hughes fluff #hughes!sister #quinn hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fanfiction #hughes brothers fanfiction

[astralnymphh]

what if u get a scratch and vampire ellie smells u from a mile away and she’s so desperate to have your blood that she lures you into her house and begs you for just a little taste. she whines and apologizes over and over again for being so needy while drinking your blood.

no smut. but suggestive! doc version included

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ oohhhh.. literally loser!vampire!ellie. the layout would be reader who's ultimate best friends with her; long time childhood friends potentially? and, let's also exercise the chance that ellie was fortunate enough to keep her vampirism veiled from your knowledge all this time. (if edward cullen could, she can too.) so, on one superficially mundane day near the woods where you happen to break skin by means i will leave up to individual imagination, ellie just so happens to be a mile away - returning home after a hunt proved to be in vain (girl had to feed bad but was way too delirious to concentrate.) - so, what transpires when she picks up the familiar scent of her beloved friends blood, an aroma commonly encountered, but always ignored despite her bloodstained appetite? yield.

"hey, my cars' just by the curb there. can give you a ride back to my place, patch that scratch up. 'ts not a big deal."

strange for her to utter that - it's not a big deal, when your puny little scratch is incapable of even irritating you that bad, but ellie insists, softly. what she omitted, is exactly what will happen between plopping on her bed and actually plastering a band-aid on that scratch. blood was drawn, crimson had dripped, and nothing goes off without a hitch when a voracious vamp meets the nectar of life, nothing. "you don't have to look— just, let me, please? again, i'm so sorry for asking." her voice withered and apologetic, a breathy and sedated mess with her fingers twiddling and twining with yours, sat adjacent to you just looking so so guilty for even bringing the topic up; vex with herself that she couldn't ignore it, like all the other past instances. "ellie, i— ugh, okay. if it's only a little.." and— that reply of sanction should excite her, god forbid she doesn't have the biggest crush on you, and now she's doing this thing viewed as intimate by some of her peers? but she can't help but feel.. sorrowfully faulted at first.

she drags her lips over the nub of your wrist before she separates them and bares her pretty teeth, poking your skin in little dints. vampiric foreplay. "you do this with every girl?" and you say it earnestly, yet with a light heart. no ill will bending in your tone nor intention. yet vulnerability casts a pall over ellie right now, taking blood from the one she can't keep her damn desires off, "i don't— i don't, no, fuck.. never, you're the only one so far." she mumbles, withdrawing her teeth a moment to spew that recital of apologies "so fuckin' sorry, please don't watch me. i just need.. just need—" she's literally so ashamed of her vehement needs for your taste, she can't even complete her sentences, unsheathing her teeth once more and burying them into the flesh by your wrist bone, grunting simultaneously with your pretty little wince.

although it is strange— on the edge of daunting, you managed to muster a fondness for it after a minute or so; the adrenaline rush at first bite, the excess of blood smearing her pale rose lips in a blotchy pattern, sometimes trickling the rise of her chin, those cursedly cute noises she makes during the feed, the fumble of her fingers trying to pull your arm deeper into her mouth like your wrist alone wasn't suitable of quenching, suspending her sucks with a spluttered or breathless, "damn it, sorry, just a little longer." whispered unto the delicate massacre painting your lower forearm— you love it. too much, you love her sudden jump in energy, pinning you on the mattress with her whole body and lodging her knee between your thighs, all while pleasuring you with pain, you fucking adore it. she has to know.

"take all you need, ellie. i don't mind, you can have me all you want, hmm?"

who knows where her mouth ended up next.

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . BIG TEXT VER

ignore why i wrote sm i did not plan to yap this much apologies if its rushed i am quite tired.

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #vampire!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams concept #tlou ellie #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n

[yanderestarangel]

♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠 ♡

a/n: version with bi han here ♡

TW: angst, insecurity, smut, v!sex, oral (f!re), husband kuai liang, afab anatomy, pet names, praise, rough sex, aggressive sex, use of ropes in sex, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, husband x husband, ftm reader.

Things were always peaceful between the two of you, he was a caring and faithful husband, you had no reason to doubt him or anything similar to that.

However, after Bi Han's betrayal with the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang needed the help of third parties to form another clan, and this clan was the 'shiray ryu' in honor of the woman who helped him, Harumi - and also the name of the whole the problem in marriage you - you were insecure and he lost his patience, tired of saying that they had nothing, and they really didn't, he was married to you. It was at a dinner that he arrived later with Harumi that you lost your temper, having a fight with Kuai Liang, his stress and concern for the clan made him simply say cruel things to you without him even realizing it.

He only noticed when you slapped him in the face and left the house crying, he hated himself at that moment. You went out into the forest, crying and with sore feet, but you soon felt the cryromancer's ropes around your body, pinning you to the ground. "-Fuck (Y/N) never run like that again, damn, did you get hurt?" He speaks worriedly and a little rudely, still under the influence of anger, but genuinely worried, while carrying you on his shoulders easily - you even tried to try to free yourself from the ropes, but you couldn't - Kuai soon arrived at your house, throwing you on top out of bed and locking all the doors so you don't run away again.

While you were trapped by his ropes, Kuai Liang stood in front of you with a pained expression on his face. He looked tired and exhausted, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down."-We've been through so many things together, we've faced countless enemies and situations that should have separated us, but we survived them all. Why do we let something like Harumi come between us now? Out of jealousy?" He asked, looking at you intently. You didn't respond immediately, just looking at him,tears in your eyes. Kuai Liang continued, trying to explain his feelings.

"-I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Please understand that Harumi means nothing to me, she never did anything wrong, she only helped us when Shiray Ryu was in childhood, our feelings for her have always remained platonic. She's like a sister to me, I would never betray her trust or our marriage." You didn't want to listen, trying to insult him and telling him to take those ropes off you, however, seeing you vulnerable, angry and exposed made him feel guilty, but also excited. He couldn't help it.

"-No, I'm not letting you go yet. Not until we talk about this." He said firmly as he ran his fingers through your hair, you could see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his duty as a ninja and his love for you, he was a man full of flaws, but he would never betray you. Without warning, Kuai Liang bent down and gently kissed your forehead, trying to calm you down. "-I promise, tonight we will make up for everything that happened, just trust me." He whispered softly in your ear, as he used the sharp kunai to tear the fabric of your clothes, exposing your body completely to him.

His lips slowly moved from your forehead to your cheek and then to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. As he continued kissing you, his hand began to move down, passing over your breast and then down towards your pussy. You moaned softly at his touch, still upset about recent events. Kuai Liang smiled slightly at your reaction before continuing his seduction. He ran his fingers through your slit, teasing your clit and making you moan louder. "-You look so fucking gorgeous now, you know that?"

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

With one swift motion, he pulled the strings on your body, opening your thighs and burying himself in your pussy, his tongue flicking out to lap up your juices. "-I want you..." he growled, "-I need you." His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body, the ropes hurting you slightly, leaving large linear red marks. "-My husband is a little slut don't you?" With a satisfied grin, Kuai Liang slid two fingers inside you, finger-fucking you roughly while continuing to suck on your clit. You moaned loudly, arching your back and thrusting against his hand. Kuai Liang added another finger, stretching you wide and pushing your little hole.

You tried to maintain your posture, saying that you hated him, even if it was a lie - and you both knew it - the ninja soon removed his fingers from you and pulled down his pants, exposing his fat, pulsing cock, leaking a thin layer of pre-semen from the tip. reddish, while he positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the tip of his dick on your clit. "-You don't hate me baby. You just feel insecure because of Harumi. But I swear to you, she means nothing to me. All I want is you." He whispered hoarsely into your ear. Your body shook with pleasure as he continued to rub his dick against your clit, your moans filling the room. "-You know you love me..." He slid the pulsate shaft as he led you in front of the large mirror in your room, while using his right arm to hold you around your waist and the other around your neck. He pulled your hair hard, forcing you to look in the mirror "-Look at you baby... See the way my cock slides in and out of your tight pussy. That's what I see when I look at you, baby. Nothing but pure desire and love." Your body responded to his words, his dick sliding against your sensitive walls, causing you to moan louder and clutch at the ropes binding you.

"-You're a beautiful man, wrapped up in the arms of your loving husband. And I want to remind you of that every chance I get... You're my little whore, aren't you? My precious, perfect husband. And look that beautiful pussy, so wet and ready for me." His words were like poison to your ears, but they also had a strange effect on you. As he continued to fuck you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of validation. Your insecurity melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence.

You no longer saw Harumi as a threat; instead, you saw her as just another person in Kuai Liang's life. You knew that he belonged to you, and nobody else. He didn't let you look away from the reflection-scorpion wanted to show you how beautiful you were, how desirable you were to him - he praised you so much, every part of him, your favorite nicknames - "darling" "baby" "sweetheart" "my pretty little thing" "my pretty slut" - with every word he growled, his dick came in and out of you, as you trembled in the heat of his member. With one final thrust, Kuai Liang let out a primal roar as he came inside you, filling you with his hot cum. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "-That's right, take my cum, you little whore." He growled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. As he collapsed onto you, spent and satisfied, he kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours in a tender gesture of devotion.

"-Never doubt yourself again, I love you more than anything, I swear, on my ninja honor, and on my soul."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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