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#how did some of you all survive seeing this in person
mvltiwritez1 · 2 days
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‘I Survived TNTL #144’ - Angela Giarratana x Fem!Reader
Requested by: @imboredloll
A/N: I’m still taking requests! I’m also writing my own stuff but writers block sucksssss.
WARNING(S): really really mild swearing.
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Y/n and Angela were cuddling in their bed, it was close to their normal sleep time so it was just time to unwind. Angela drew circles with her finger on Y/n's blanket-covered thigh absentmindedly, her thoughts drowning out Y/n's steady heartbeat beside her ear.
"Is tomorrow a TNTL shoot?" Angela asked randomly, catching Y/n's attention. Y/n lowered her phone from her face and looked at Angela.
"I think so, why?" Y/n asked back, smiling slightly. Angela didn't answer for a second, chuckling softly as Y/n looked in confusion.
"I have the best idea ever." Angela's eyes sparkled and Y/n rose her eyebrow in intrigue before Angela started explaining her idea.
——
"Hey guys! Welcome to Try Not To Laugh. I'm here with Ian, Angela, Y/n, Damien, and Keith" Courtney introduced and everyone cheered for a second before Courtney continued to speak.
"You all know how this stuff goes but if you don't, one of us will be on the stool with water in their mouth and the others will have to make them spit it out in under 30 seconds. Now if you like what you see, go and hit that bell and that like button and...let's get to it" Courtney finished their speech and everyone clapped briefly.
"Since Angela is sitting on the stool, she'll be first" Courtney said and Angela nodded with a giant grin on her face.
——
Angela, Y/n, and Keith had sat on the hot seat and the video had been a success so far but now with Courtney on the hot seat, Angela gave the signal to Y/n that they would be doing the plan they had discussed the night prior.
It was Angela’s time to step out and she grabbed Y/n’s arm gently, smiling up at her before they went out to do the bit.
They walked out hand-in-hand and, with giant grins, they started to talk.
“Hey everyone! We’ve been waiting to say this but we have now decided to announce it” Y/n introduced and Courtney tilted their head, confused as to what they were going to say.
“We’re together!-”
“In a relationship!-“ they both said in unison but once they fumbled the sentence, they both looked at each other. They muttered an ‘oh’ before trying again.
“We’re in a relationship!-“
“We’re together!-“ they switched what they said, hitting the perfect comedic timing. They looked at each other again, shocked, causing Courtney to spit the water out.
“We’re in a relationship! God, Y/n” Angela kept her smile giant and her tone bubbly before dropping it to pretend to mutter the last part to her girlfriend, loud enough for the mic’s to pick up.
“Sorry Ange” Y/n pretended to be taken aback and looked at the camera awkwardly before breaking character and looking at Courtney.
“That was awesome” Courtney giggled and they got ready for the next person to go up.
——
Y/n had forgotten about the bit they did that shoot but she was reminded when it was uploaded a month after filming.
She got the notification from YouTube and saw the TNTL title and thumbnail. She stopped stirring her eggs for a second before calling out to Angela.
“Ange! The TNTL is up!” Y/n said and she heard slightly quick footsteps coming out of their bedroom.
“Really?” Angela’s smile was huge as Y/n chuckled and handed the phone to her. Angela quickly scrolled through the comments and saw remarks about their bit come flooding in.
‘17:38 is this real?!’
‘HOLY SHIT ANGELA AND Y/N?!’
‘Guys, it’s a bit. It’s literally a TNTL’
‘I’m kinda hoping it’s not a bit…is that wrong?’
Angela read them out loud and the couple laughed at some of them. They had a plan to post stuff on Instagram as soon as the TNTL was uploaded but…maybe they could have fun for a day.
The only people that knew about their relationship was their families. They had met each others families too so it was just a close knit group, not even any of their co-workers or friends knew.
——
They decided to keep the lack of relationship charade up until the next day so they staggered their entrances to get into the building.
Damien ran into Y/n and gasped slightly.
“Your bit on TNTL was killer. Ever since it was posted at 11, I haven’t seen anything else talked about on our socials. Such a good joke” Damien chuckled thinking about it. Y/n laughed back.
“Well don’t thank me, thank Angela. She’s the mastermind” Y/n replied and continued walking to her desk, setting her bag down.
The rest of the day, they were bombarded with employees talking about how their ‘bit’ was insane and was turning the fandom into a crazed mess. All Y/n and Angela could do was chuckle along with them, knowing that the next day, everything will be public and out there.
——
They woke up to more notifications on each of their phones from different people, close friends, distant friends they barely thought of, co-workers applauding them.
Y/n groaned before putting her phone face down on her chest. They were still snug in their bed.
“I’m starting to regret doing that bit” Y/n chuckled and wiped her face gently to wake her up more. Angela scoffed playfully.
“Well it’s too late now. I think we should post those drafts now. What do you think?” Angela asked and Y/n looked back at her, waiting a second before nodding.
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Liked by filmingamanda and 25,215 others
Y/N_Y/L/N All the rumours are true ❤️ (for real though, you’re the best person I have ever met and I love the way we announced us @angelagiarratana )
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Co_mill: HOW DID I MISS THIS?!
Liked by creator
Filmingamanda: sobbing! Love you two!
Liked by creator
User171728384: I KNEW IT!!
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slotumn · 19 hours
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Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions
Basically,
Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system
Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil
Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)
Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better
Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope
Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money
As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut
For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.
I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.
And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.
For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol
Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.
Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.
Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.
And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.
For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).
That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.
"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.
But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"
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taemmin · 9 months
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key, 'hard' @ kpop lux, madrid [230722] video cr.
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bumblingbabooshka · 10 months
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Watching episode one of Voyager is like watching the first act of a horror movie
#also I completely forgot that Tom Paris was part of the Maquis - and that he was only IN it for like a week before getting caught#Tom saw Janeway action figure posing the second she met him and was like 'fuck I'm not gonna let her be cooler than me'#(she is - effortlessly)#they want him so badly to be a playboy bad guy but he's just...HEHEHE he's SO whatever#Quark what do you MEAN 'cash or credit' ???? do humans HAVE /cash/??? HEHEHEH#Tom saw Harry Kim and IMMEDIATELY is down so bad v_v#It's fun seeing some members of the original crew ~#'see you in a few weeks' OOF...........OOOOUUGHHHHH That hurts.......OOOUGH.#The Harry - Tom - Popular Guys subplot i s sooo highschool its crazy HEHEH#Tom thinks he's like the brooding bad boy but he's the nerdy girl who gets picked on until one day the popular guy says#'hey - leave Tom alone.' and smiles at him afterwards#'the ghost of those 3 dead officers came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of christmas'#Harry (not well versed on by now ANCIENT childrens fables): ????what????#Tom Paris: It's a long story Harry and I'm tired of telling it.#Also Tom Paris two seconds later: IT ALL STARTED FRESHMAN YEAR.#I also forgot the Maquis ship went missing first and Starfleet was searching for debris...#how long has T'Pel thought her husband might be straight up dead?? How long has he been undercover? How long since they spoke???#(thinks about people whose loved ones died in episode one...thinks about them hearing that Voyager and some of its crew DID survive but#the person they loved did not - that there was never any chance of them returning)#Janeway's hair is so BRIGHT in this episode#'Harry - wait for me!' <- Tom in one line#I also love the creepy barn party 'don't look in there~! don't look in there~!' Voyager should have leaned way more into horror for REAL#Janeway's eyes widening when she sees Tuvok ~!! <3 she thought he could be dead!!! I wonder if she talked to T'Pel about it#Tuvok: (goes missing) Janeway: Don't worry T'Pel I'll bring him back to you if it's the last thing I d- (goes missing)#Caretaker after snatching up the Maquis: Starfleet has the chance to do something hilarious#Janeway (being stabbed): aa.. ..a!h...hh.. / Harry: (being stabbed) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Chakotay looking to Tuvok like 'do we trust her?' and Tuvok being like absoluuuuuteeeely <3 go for it <3#Tuvok's voice is different~!!! It's quieter~!! Interesting~!! I love him <3#TUVOK YOU DID /NOT/ GET /CHANGED/ BEFORE MEETING THEM ON THE ARRAY HEHEHHEE#'She wanted to know if she had time to send it...I had to tell her no.' AAAAAAAAA.....AAAA
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snickerdoodlles · 2 years
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having a lot of thoughts right now at 4am about chay being ruthless
there’s a specific animorphs quote i’m thinking of:
"People don't understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It's not about being mean. It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It's about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it." — Marco, The Reunion by K.A. Applegate 
specifically the bit: It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. 
now, i dont think chay from season 1 is ruthless. but i very much see him as having the makings of it. chay has a very simple and direct approach to things; he sees something he wants, so he pursues it (he asks his idol for lessons their first meeting, he doesn’t let kim skip out on tutor lessons, he confesses twice because he had a homework goal and then a personal goal, he wants the truth so he confronts kim that same day, etc). and we see this theme of ‘chay has a goal, chay pursues goal’ most often with kim because they specifically foil each other in this. kim has a grand speech about making sacrifices to achieve your goals, but he’s stagnant between the world he was borne into and cant fully leave because of his brothers, vs the soft bright world he wants to be in but cant because he comes bearing blood. this directly contrasts with chay, who pursues his goals fullheartedly and recklessly
now, chay's not ruthless. not...yet. but there’s also these little...hints of a ruthlessly practical mindset to him. the most standout point for me in this regard was episode 1 when porsche is worried about his uncle. he’s sent arthee away, but he’s still planning “how do i get uncle out of trouble, and how do i maximize it?”
but chay? chay’s straight up like “uncle’s problems aren’t ours, lets just runaway to go live your dream of owning a bar on the beach”
i love this scene between porsche and chay so much. not only is really heartwarming, but i think it rly solidifies who they are as characters right off the bat. porsche is a caretaker. he takes care of everyone around him, whether he has an obligation to or not. but chay is fully ready to just leave their uncle behind. uncle interferes with brother’s and mine’s future plans? then no uncle in future plans. chay doesn’t even seem to mourn nor care that his uncle, one of his two caretakers left, is just gone from his life after ep1. like...that’s a really cold assessment for a teenager to make about one of his two living family members (that he knows of)
for me, what holds chay back from tipping into any sort of ruthless so far is mostly his naivety. not innocence (chay is not innocent yes i am still fighting on this hill), but he has certain expectations of the world that don’t necessarily match what the world is. to me, this shows most clearly when he sees warning flags (”...how do you know i have a brother?”) but is fully willing to ignore them in favor of pursuing his original goal(s) instead of taking the warning flags into account. and since he doesn’t plan for them, when some of those flags grow into actual problems, they really trip him up in ways he’s not prepared to handle. but he doesn’t have that any more at the end of season 1
if we do get a second season, i would be v curious to see where chay’s character develops. im apparently the outlier lol, but i actually really love where kim and chay ended in s1. they were on a trajectory to crash in the middle and instead they missed and landed where the other started. kim, the kid running away from the things he’s always wanted, puts himself out there with zero expectation or surety that chay will reach back. chay lingers over the video, unsure if he wants to respond to it or block it, so he throws his phone away to deal with it another time. and it’d just be really interesting to see how these two characters would react following the same trajectory the other one originally did, but coming at it with a very different background/development. and for chay specifically, i would just rly love to see how his ep1 “lets just abandon uncle to the debtors and go live our dreams on a beach” hints might come back/come into play in a mafia world setting
#this is v stream of conscious like. this isnt anything super serious. 5am is not a time for serious lol#anyways. i have. thoughts.#didnt want to expand in the post bc this is SO very much thumb tacks and strings and headcanons but. i also want to see chay's ruthlessness#and how it might mirror/follow namphueng's ruthlessness specifically#my read on namphueng is that she's playing her own game. and whatever game she's playing for her survival. she did it knowing that she'd hav#*have to abandon her sons and that she cant/wont reveal anything to them right away#there's some fun ideas to play with there between porsche's phoenix symbolism and korn's chess bs#so i would rly love to see like. porsche v much takes after his dad in his caretaker and big heart traits#where as chay is v much namphueng's son and they have a bright clear line between point a and point b they'll pursue without hesitation#there's a fun playground in there between chay and korn but that probably interests me exclusively bc it relates to talk shit get hit series#lol ANYWAYS i personally would love for namphueng backstory and a namphueng backstory that includes her selling out her original family#specifically (i mean the family the theerapanukuls killed and took her from). then namphueng tried to get away from them#that would be v fun for me its the top of my s2 bucket list#btes if ive misspelled anything shhhhhhh its 5am ive been up since before 7am spelling isnt real#this isnt rly meant to be anything lol just. been keeping me up all night. oof.#kinnporsche#mine: kinnporsche#pls stop saying chays this weeping willow or doe-eyed bambi or innocent bean or whatever i am so tired  lol#chay did not abandon his uncle to the wolves for this kind of slander lol#he did not sell himself like he was living a y/n fanfic for you to box him into innocent maiden tropes#he didnt push every step of his and kims brief relationship for yall to make kim the dom lmao#.......promise im done. this isnt a tag whine lol. its just like. idk. did yall forget the shit chay's pulled in canon#he's the same wavelength of insane as kim thats why they work#tag rambles#tag rambles: kinnporsche
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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yk every time i see a post about somebody wishing bad things on another person i think ‘dirt-strider to kiryu’ you’ve broken me brain
You see a post thats like i want to stick him in time prison so that he gets so bored he starts breaking his own bones to get even a hint of stimulation and its tagged me at kiryu and you scroll down and its a post thats like i want to feed him chips from my cupped hands like a wild stallion and its also tagged me at kiryu also hiiiiiiiii
#Thanks for the ask !#i wont lie to you i want to do yo kiryu what they did to the family in reddot story the pancake family#his life is a bit too easy i want to give him more obstacles thats why im kidnapping him and breaking my little prince’s ankles and#releasing him in a forest in another country altogether and he has to survive with his injuries until they heal and they will heal wrong and#it will forever hurt to walk now and also when he sees another human being now he will always flinch and he has nightmares every night about#being feverish and starving to death and years into his recovery i meet him again and invite him to watch a movie with me but when i put the#tape in its actually just a highlight reel of his time in the wilderness and he gets scared but he cant move and its because i gave him some#tea earlier and oh this ? its laced with drugs. and he sits blearily beside me and im holding his head up so he watches the screen and he#recalls every terrible thing thats happened to him i put the tv on full volume so he can relive the leaves and twigs cracking under his#hands and knees as hes dragging himself across the forest floor and and his clipped shouts of pain whenever his broken bones catch on a root#and his enraged screaming as he grapples foxes and coyotes that are trying to scavenge the food he painstakingly gathered and he can listen#to the way his voice devolves into something unrecognisable and hes wondering how i got this footage but then he realises this scene is#familiar hes on his last legs and he hears footsteps approach not those of an animal but of a person. he looks at the screen and he sees his#own face staring into the camera wild eyed and filthy and that on the other side of the camera is the hitchhiker who ‘found’ him and he#realises it was me who did this. i could have rescued him at any time the gratefulness he feels to that kind samaritan curdles in his chest#it comes with the withering realisation it was all a game and the one who put him through it all was right beside him and i laugh and put my#hand around his shoulder and ask if he liked the movie and he fights his paralysis and he grips me by the neck and throws me to the ground#and he says you .. you ... and i frown apologetically and say That bad huh ? well we can put on another. and he cant even say words anymore#hes so angry that he grips my neck and he strangles me and the whole time my face gets purple im laughing and laughing and laughing at him#anyway thats one of my greatest fantasies its a fantasy because i couldnt do that to the poor guy im not that mean but i do want him to kill#me and for me to deserve it. very important that i started this fight and that he ends it thats what i want to have ... and also to like#cuddle and stuff ... because i like him ...
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ziracona · 2 years
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People on tumblr will complain about games having heavy handed ethics and black and white narratives with practically unexecutable ideologies, then throw the biggest hissy fit of all time at any games where doing the good guy thing and saving attacked minorities or causes has casualties and makes you kill people in order to enact any large scale real lasting change.
#I will see users be like ‘superhero movies have the worst ethical takes since Kant. just kill him’ and then lose their mind the game about#what it’s like to be a minority oppressed by the govt didn’t have stand-in white allies in it or that to free slaves they have to kill the#slavers and some people not directly wielding the guns but benefiting from and living happily within the power structure will be casualties#like guys you’re not supposed to be happy about it but that’s how life fucking works. none of you could be Clementine every one of you is#James. ‘I would love not to have to fight and kill but that’s not how life fucking works! it takes more than words!’#thinking again about some of the most wildly bullshit complaints I’ve ever seen video games get rofl#y’all will bend over backward to excuse the most bigoted fucks and serial killers of all time but the second a minority shoots someone to#save their life or someone else’s they’re satan himself like girl it ain’t even bad they did it you’re just a wuss with horrible ethics &#also part of the problem. you can’t change things by hoping bad people decide to change or asking them.#and if you’re not willing to hurt someone horrific to protect the perosn they’re trying to kill because the slight chance someday they might#decide to improve is more valuable than the life of the person they’re killing or their right to happiness and survival? you fucking suck#and that’s literally just that. get priorities that aren’t evil
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infectedpaul · 2 years
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g5 mlp makes me so sad cause on one hand i really wanna say a lot about its weird ass release through netflix, youtube, and comics all released sporatically with no fanfare and just the low quality overall but also like.......its clearly aiming for an even younger demographic than g4 (or maybe its the same age and tastes have just changed, idk) so like do i Get an opinion without sounding like a rantsona youtuber lol
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robinsnest2111 · 5 months
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thinking about everyone who experienced me, premium front row seats and audience participation included, at my absolute worst and still want to have something to do with current day me. idk what I did to deserve you peeps in my life and I hope every single day I can be a good friend to you now that I'm actively trying to heal 🙏
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
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headspace-hotel · 2 years
Text
I want to make people see how much has been taken away from them.
Did you know that there are dozens of species of fireflies, and some of them light up with a blue glow? Did you know about the moths? There are thousands of them, bright pink and raspberry orange and checkerboard and emerald. They are called things like Black-Etched Prominent, Purple Fairy, Pink-Legged Tiger, Small Mossy Glyph and Black-Bordered Lemon.
Did you know that there are moths that feed on lichens? Did you know about the blue and green bees? The rainbow-colored dogbane beetles? Your streams are supposed to teem with newts, salamanders, crawdads, frogs, and fishes. I want to take you by the hand and show you an animal you've never seen before, and say, "This exists! It's real! It's alive!"
There are secret wildflowers that no website will show you and that no list entitled "native species to attract butterflies!" will name. Every day I'm at work I see a new plant I didn't know existed.
The purple coneflowers and prairie blazing star are a tidepool, a puddle, and there is an ocean out there. There are wildflowers that only grow in a few specific counties in a single state in the United States, there are plants that are evolved specifically to live underneath the drip line of a dolomite cliff or on the border of a glade of exposed limestone bedrock. Did you know that different species of moss grow on the sides of a boulder vs. on top of it?
There are obscure trees you might have never seen—Sourwood, Yellowwood, Overcup Oak, Ninebark, Mountain Stewartia, Striped Maple, American Hophornbeam, Rusty Blackhaw, Kentucky Coffeetree. There are edible fruits you've never even heard of.
And it is so scary and sad that so many people live and work in environments where most of these wondrous living things have been locally extirpated.
There are vast tracts of suburb and town and city and barren pasture where a person could plausibly never learn of the existence of the vast majority of their native plants and animals, where a person might never imagine just how many there are, because they've only ever been exposed to the tiny handful of living things that can survive in a suburb and they have no reason to extrapolate that there are ten thousand more that no one is talking about.
It's like being a fish that has lived its whole life in a bucket, with no way of imagining the ocean. The insects in your field guide are a fraction of those that exist, of all the native plants to your area only a handful can be bought in a nursery.
Welcome to the Earth! It's beautiful! It's full of life! More things are real and beautiful and alive than a single person could imagine!!!
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a-b-riddle · 5 days
Text
Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didn’t regret it.
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Text
DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number
Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.
He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.
Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.
That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.
Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.
Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.
"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.
There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.
"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.
"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.
His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.
"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."
"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.
"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"
Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.
He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.
"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.
In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."
"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.
"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"
Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-
"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.
"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.
"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.
After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.
The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.
He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.
Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.
Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.
He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.
He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.
Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.
Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.
Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.
Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"
God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?
(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.
He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.
Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )
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theyluvkarolina · 24 days
Text
𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐓
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` she’s barbie and he’s just ken ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ lando is a megafan of Y/N. but his status all changes when a accidental post gains popularity!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ lando norris x IceSkater!Fem!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ one of the posts include Anna Shcherbakova (yes ik she isn’t team USA but go with it)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none that i can think of 🙃 cursing?? ofc the photos aren’t accurate in the timeline of actual events but just go with it 😭
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ this may be shorter because my lack of idea for my own idea but i hope you all still enjoy! 🫠
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y/n_skates ✔︎
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liked by, landonorris, isabeau.lev, ilia_quadg0d_malinin and others
y/n_skates back in the rink!! ⛸️
1,298 comments
isabeau.lev ✔︎ so happy to have you back 🥹
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ AHHH I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 🫶🫶
username1 i already know that she is going to eat this up 👩‍🍳
username2 our lutz queen is back 🥹🥹
username3 girl came back from a injury and is ready to serve cunt
→ username4 with a CAPITAL c
username6 you guys think she’ll be able to skate again after her injury??
→ username7 only time will tell 🤷
username8 most overrated and overscored skater next to ilia and trusova 😂
→ lxtzqueensolos listen here you untalented piece of shit. do you really think you can out do not only those athletes but y/n??? our modern day lutz queen?? i think you not only need your eyes checked but a whole psychological examination for these shit opinions coming of your your arsehole. “b-but but her axels!” AND? can you do better than her? can you be in the olympics like her? keep your fucking mouth shut you fucking wanker. → username9 HELLO?? → username10 everyday i try to stay loyal like how this fan is loyal to y/n 😭😭 → username11 who even is this person 💀 → lxtzqueensolos why do you want to know 🤨🤨
Twitter
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y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 6 minutes ago!
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lxtzqueen replied to your story!
lxtzqueensolos because you are literally the most amazing skater ever and that you will prove everyone wrong??
y/n_skates ✔︎
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liked by, landonorris, anna_shcherbakova, olympics and others
y/n_skates much needed after a hard day of work 😴 ☕️
2,341 comments
username12 y/n is such a cutie patootie
→ lxtzqueensolos i heavily agree. → y/n_skates ✔︎ ..stop i’m blushing 🥹
username13 girl got injured and is training her way back into team usa for the olympics
→ lxtzqueensolos you bet your ass she is. → y/n_skates ✔︎ you all are talking about the olympics but i’m just trying to accomplish montreal 😭
username14 that hot chocolate is so 🤤🤤
username15 any show recs??
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ def f1 drive to survive! binged it when recovering from my injury and now i’m turning into a hardcore f1 fan 🫣 → username16 fav team? → y/n_skates ✔︎ mclaren! fell in love with the team and their drivers in a instant 😊 → lxtzqueensolos oh?
y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 13 minutes ago!
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
y/n_skates ✔︎
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liked by, landonorris, lxtzqueensolos, atrusova and others
y/n_skates i’m more than overjoyed with my results this week, especially with securing 3rd. thank you everyone for all you support and encouragement ever since i got back from my injury. 🩷
2,782 comments
y/n_skates ✔︎ i would also like to give a formal shoutout to @ lxtzqueen for their constant support :)
→ username17 IT FINALLY HAPPENED → username18 we can thank @ lxtzqueensolos for their hardwork and dedication 🫡 🫡 → username19 the day finally arrived 😭😭 → username20 passing away rn no one talk to me → lxtzqueensolos i can rest easy now.
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
landonorris ✔︎
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liked by, y/n_skates, carlosainz55, maxfewtrell and others
landonorris she’s an olympic ice skater, and i’m just a guy that drives fast bumper cars.
tagged ; y/n_skates
4,281 comments
carlosainz55 ✔︎ definitely some explaining 😉
username21 CHAT IS THIS REAL?? WHAT IS HAPPENING
→ landonorris ✔︎ as real as it can be 😍
oscarpiastri ✔︎ be honest; how many times did he fall?
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ more than i can keep count 😅😅 → landonorris ✔︎ i thought we agreed to not discuss that 🤨 → y/n_skates ✔︎ …whoops? → oscarpiastri ✔︎ 😶 😶
username22 HELP THE SNOWBALL 😭
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ i can assure you that he is perfectly well 🙏 → landonorris ✔︎ SHE’S LYING → mclaren ✔︎ 🤨🤨 → y/n_skates ✔︎ pls don’t ban me from the garage lando is being dramatic
y/n_skates ✔︎
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liked by, landonorris, _kaganovskay_14, maxim_nekrasov_ and others
y/n_skates ✔︎ he’s a formula one driver, i’m just a girl that dances on ice.
tagged ; landonorris
3,612 comments
username23 THE MATCHING CAPTIONS 🥹
username24 i love the fact he took her karting when she took him ice skating 😭
username25 new wag??
→ username26 i think it’s more of lando being the bf of a olympic athlete than y/n being the gf of a f1 driver 😭 → username27 DUMP THE WAG TAG 🗣️ ‼️
landonorris ✔︎ my gf ❤️
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ my pookie ❤️ → landonorris ✔︎ sugar-booger ❤️ → y/n_skates ✔︎ snuggluffagus ❤️ → maxfewtrell ✔︎ stop being so cringe rn i already had to deal with lando fangirling i can’t do this now too. 😞 → landonorris ✔︎ seems like someone doesn't know sarcasm.
y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 15 minutes ago!
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multiple people replied to your story!
username27 it was all too much for little lando norris
lilyzniemer I think it might be a mclaren things for all the boys to be sleepy 😅😅 y/n_skates tell me about it 😭 they sleep like rocks!
y/n_skates ✔︎
📍 Japan
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liked by, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren and others
y/n_skates picasso i like it 🖼️
tagged ; landonorris
3,421 comments
vototwins ✔︎ da vinki??
→ username28 NOT THE TWINS HERE 😭
mclaren ✔︎ artist in the making! 🧑‍🎨
oscarpiastri ✔︎ did he improve in his crafts?
→ landonorris ✔︎ uhm??? why crafts are the best thing on earth?? → carlosainz55 ✔︎ who lied to you? 😅
username29 i bet y/n will hang it up on the fridge like a proud mom
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ …how did you know?
landonorris ✔︎
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liked by y/n_skates, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others
landonorris lot of support this weekend 🙃
tagged ; y/n_skates, oscarpiastri, mclaren
4,521 comments
username30 THE SECOND PHOTO
→ username31 crying sobbing and throwing up → username32 i want love like theirs → landonorris ✔︎ if you want love like this be ready for snowballs being thrown at you. → y/n_skates ✔︎ IT WAS A ONE TIME THING.
oscarpiastri ✔︎ clean race 👍
y/n_skates ✔︎ so proud 🥹
*Liked by landonorris!*
→ username33 you guys have no clue how much i love her → landonorris ✔︎ sorry to break it to you but i love her more than you ever will 🥱
mclaren ✔︎ golden boy 🏆
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ 🤨
y/n_skates ✔︎
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liked by, landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon and others
y/n_skates first f1 race is complete! so proud @ landonorris 🧡
tagged ; landonorris
4,356 comments
lilymunihe ✔︎ cuties
username34 HELP THE LAST PHOTO
username35 it was all to much for little lando norris 2(4) years old
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → charles_leclerc ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → danielricciardo ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → oscarpiastri ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → carlosainz55 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → f1 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → landonorris ✔︎ STOP THIS
landonorris ✔︎ you could have chosen ANY photo of me
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ i think this one shows how cute you are :) → oscarpiastri ✔︎ who lied to y/n about lando being cute → landonorris ✔︎ rude. → y/n_skates ✔︎ @ oscarpiastri he might look stupid but it’s okay because i love him 🫶 → landonorris ✔︎ 🤭 🤭
username36 fuck romeo and juliet i want what they have.
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irndad · 26 days
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a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.
“Have you called Maeve?” 
She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?
He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with. 
Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them. 
“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.
“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”
“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”
She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks. 
Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me. 
She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response. 
Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.
She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it. 
Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office. 
She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief. 
She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share. 
He does not want to call Maeve. 
The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.
“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”
Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.
He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess. 
He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.
“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”
“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”
“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“
“Then why-“
“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”
He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it. 
She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now. 
All the cards are in her hands.
Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this. 
“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”
It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him. 
“How could I not be? It’s you.”
It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up. 
A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount. 
“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“
He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to  cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable. 
When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life. 
“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”
He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back. 
It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits. 
She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back. 
On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything. 
He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though. 
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Text
Secretly Mine
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Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge
Category: Fluff
Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader
Content warnings: None
Word count: 1.5k
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Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.
One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.
New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.
Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.
Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.
So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.
Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.
And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.
You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.
The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.
Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?
His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.
It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”
You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”
“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”
He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”
You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”
“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.
You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”
His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”
As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?
And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”
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