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silverwhittlingknife · 5 months

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did nobody ask you for red letter day? absurd! *I* wanna know about red letter day!

hello captain and friend anon!!! I KNOW I HAVEN'T UPDATED THIS IN SIX MILLION YEARS SO THANK YOU FOR THESE ASKS <333

okay SO the first thing is, you have to understand, my list of documents for this fic looks like this:

anyway i do love this fic even though it FIGHTS ME; it's supposed to have both Fights and Mysteries and both are hard to write 😅

anyway hmmm i'm going to cheat by including a Dick POV section that I am probably gonna end up cutting, because i like it but i also worry that it slows down the dialogue?

excerpt below the cut! the only context that you need is that Dick and Tim have been having the "should Tim call if there's danger in Gotham" argument again (Tim's position is "no"), partly because they both have genuine positions on this argument, but also because it enables them to sublimate an emotional conflict into a work conflict and thus avoid talking or thinking about their feelings, which is a shared pathology goal:

Dick would bet Tim never mouthed off to Bruce like this. One of the many things that suck about being the knock-off Batman is that none of Dick’s orders really stick. All of the responsibility without the authority to back it up. At least when Dick was leading the Titans, they did what he freaking told them. …Mostly. …Okay, sometimes. The awful truth is—and he tries not to dwell on it because it’s pointless and doesn’t achieve anything, but—everything with Tim, sometimes it reminds him of the worst times with the Titans. The same uneasy feeling of dread, like he’s grabbing for someone who’s slipping through his fingers. Roy’s crossed arms. The clock creeping toward midnight, staring at the champagne, knowing in his heart that Kory wasn’t coming. After Tartarus: watching Roy walk out of the room, watching Donna follow him, staring at Vic’s back, Kory’s back, all of them walking out, and no one left but the newcomers. When the personal is so fucked up that all you can do is double-down on the professional, and even that doesn’t help, and then— (Get a grip, Grayson.) And anyway, this isn’t like the Titans, is it? Dick was out-of-line, there, in retrospect. He’s never been good at losing people gracefully. Pushing Kory for marriage when she was already pulling away, trying to cling to her instead of letting her go. Giving ultimatums after Tartarus, when he knew the team already resented his orders. Making decisions behind Vic’s back, trying to force him to stay. It’s an ugly bad habit, picked up from Bruce: things are slipping, and your people are mad at you, so you get scared, and then you get authoritative and controlling so you can hang onto them, except you can’t control them, so then they get even angrier and you lose them anyway. It’s easy to see in Bruce, hard to see in himself, but he knows it’s there. He barely managed to catch himself in time, with the Titans. Is he doing the same thing to Tim? Does he need to back off? But Gotham is risky. Tim’s always been capable, obviously, but…it’s okay to be a bit authoritative, isn’t it? Tim should call if there’s someone who looks unusually dangerous. That’s just common sense. Dick’s not asking for miracles, here.

#general unreliable narrator warning sdfsdfsd #dick. honey. kory needed space after being tortured + that was not your fault or the result of your choices actually #anyway i'm so torn because on the one hand i feel like this is worryingly close to info-dumping in a way i don't like #and i also worry that it's not giving enough context for someone who's not familiar with the comic references #but at the same time mmm okay this isn't the main point of this or anything #but part of what i find so appealing about the dick + tim conflict #is its potential to interact with their different types of abandonment issues #i feel like tim's abandonment issues generally have enough play in fandom that i don't have to spend a lot of time establishing them #whereas most dick-centric fics tend to focus on other aspects of his character #but dick has a lot of anxiety about losing people too #like. it's complicated bc he doesn't process it or narrate it to himself in quite the same ways that tim does #but it's very much an underlying anxiety imo

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ratguy-nico · 4 months

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people you dont know this but I made promises to myself, promises that for sure i'm not fulfilling but heartly trying (i think heartly is not a word but again I dont actually speak english so, i mean from the bottom of my heart)

The promises were to try and post drawings in 3 or max 5 days, my last drawing is beyond that so i will post an old (very old) drawing that I wanted to share with you so much cause when i did it i was very proud of it.

And the second post will be a drawing im working on but im not very sure if I will finish it cause is me you know, but also i tried to color it and didn't end well so will see.

I don't know why i like to dump information to you about my thinking process like you care, you have most important things to do, dammit.

#useless info dump #i think im gonna use this tag every time i dump dumb information #okay thats all the dumb info

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buckleydiazmp4 · 7 months

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it's tag venting time

#i've had this friendship. of like. 5 years #and well #we used to be really really close #and in hindsight i guees it was because we literally saw each other for 8 hours straight every day of the week #and then that stopped happening #i literally haven't seen this person in about a year and a half i think? maybe more?#despite the fact that we basically live walking distance from each other. which. already says a lot #but then there's also a bigger issue. because hey i get it we're both busy ppl it's okay if qe haven't seen each other in a while #(despite the fact that in this case it is because of a lack of trying -i like to believe not on my part- but ignoring that)#we text sporadically when we have something to let off our chest so it's like this back and forth of voice notes every week or so #but lately its has turned into them sending me groups of 5-minute voice notes at a time because their life is so. so dramatic #and like. hey if this were still like a mutual communication i would enjoy it because i am indeed a good listener #and i like to believe i guve good advice. and i used to give this person good advice like. it was a nice friendship back then #but it became so one-sided as in i received info dumps and vents about the same stuff over and over and the few times i talked about myself #i received some half-hearted dismissals like. oh cool or oh that's so sad. anyways. and then we went back to talking about them.#and it was so frustrating but at first i thought well if they're gonna use me as a venting device so will i despite getting no input like #they became a void to me which i was getting gradually accustomed to it was fine. but then today they asked if i could talk on the phone #i said yes because i wanted to prove my theory. the plan was: i answer #let them talk without offering any input whatsoever. see how long they can just talk and talk and then in the end see if my lack of answer-#-elicited any reaction at all. and unsurprisingly it didn't. i waited for them to finish and then i thought #well at least they might ask me how my day was or something just to confirm i was listening like idk but #i personally would find the quiet unsettling and would ask.but they didn't even do that. asked me if i had homework i said yes. that was it #that was IT!!! i felt so frustrating but at least i was entirely correct and it does hurt to lose a friend but this had been coming #for a long long time. the thing is though i cant just cut this person off #i hate confrontation so all i cant do is keep up this sort of a 'quiet quitting' kind of attitude. pretty easy to do with someone like this #so anyway. that's how you realize a friendship is fake and now i am a bit angry and also sad. but i guess i'll deal with it and move on #if you read all this hi and sorry for the venting. i just had to get it off my chest #vent post

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justanotherfanwriter · 2 years

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Nervous habits, finger kisses, the pain goes away

A/n: Why, yes, the title is the summary. Huntlow. Quick drabble, no plot only vibes. Scrolled through the tag this morning before posting and saw someone else did something similar, so lol whoops. My b. This drabble feels too romantic to be in-character, but oh well, maybe one of you will like it! The idea is nice and I semi-revised it so might as well post, right?

c/w: severe finger biting, ooc(??)

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It was in the way he stood that Willow knew Hunter was somewhere else, stuck in his mind.

Hunter’s shoulder were hunched as he chewed at a hangnail, staring out the window but not looking. His poor fingernails were by far the ugliest she had ever seen, and hers had a permanent layer of dirt stuck underneath them. He had chewed his fingernails down into the nail bed, and the skin around each digit was practically flayed. She theorized that the gloves he wore back home weren't to hide the concerning scars that patterned the rest of his hands but actually to keep his fingers away from his teeth.

In this realm, the general human didn't incorporate gloves into their regular wardrobe. Here, gloves were just a wintertime accessory unless your work required them. Regardless, Ms. Camila had given Hunter a pair of fingerless gloves to wear. She had explained they were more commonplace, and if anyone were to ask, he could tell them they were compression gloves.

"For arthritis," Ms. Camila had further instructed and whispered other quiet things to Hunter that Willow had no right to hear.

Willow assumed that Hunter liked the fingerless gloves. It wasn't like he had ever taken them off, but then again, maybe wearing them was more out of habit than comfort. She wouldn't know; she never asked. Based on his scars, Willow could only assume.

Unfortunately, the fingerless gloves encouraged his mutilating habit of nail-biting. More often than not, his fingertips were raw and stained with blood. The mere look of them would make Willow bite the inside of her cheeks—one of the bad habits she had when she was feeling anxious.

She stood at the spot where the hallway bled into the living room, holding her breath, hoping not to spook him. As much as she wanted to tell him to stop, seeing Hunter slouched over like this was rare. The rareness wasn't surprising; he had the posture of a soldier beaten into him at a very young age; his poker face was formidable. So, when Hunter—the real Hunter—seeped through, she watched him with rapt attention, trying to get a glimpse of what was really going on inside his mind.

For a while there, after they had found him hiding at Hexside—when his whole world was crashing down around him—It was easier to see the emotions playing out on his face. She could tell he was reigning it now, building back up carefully constructed walls and patching up the leaks. He may have physically rid himself of his golden mask, but it was still there, heavy on the crown of his head.

He'd throw the mask back on if he knew she was watching him, and as much as she disliked that, Willow understood why. Everyone had a mask they were wearing in one way or another; even she had her own despite her best efforts not to.

In quiet observation, she traced his face, following the slope of his dark circles and trailing down the crook of his nose. She could see how tired he still was—always was—and the muscle in his hand twitched as he moved it around, biting, peeling, hurting himself. For the most part, his eyes were blank and void, somewhere far away, but every few moments, there was a spark in them, and his brow would furrow in thought.

She pulled her eyes away from his face to look over the rest of him. If there was one positive takeaway, it was that Ms. Camila's food fattened him up. He was still just a bundle of lean muscle, but his cheeks weren't so hollow, and the bones of his wrists didn't protrude.

Willow smiled. Less scrawny, more boy, it was nice to see.

Without thinking, she shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, and the old floor below her creaked. The change was instantaneous. If you blinked, you would have missed the way Hunter's face stilled. His hand dropped to his side as his shoulders rolled back and down, so he stood straight once more. His heels came together, standing at attention like a proper soldier.

She played her part, too, smiling at him as if she had just now walked down the hallway instead of hiding in its shadows like a creep.

"Hunter," She chirped, not missing a beat as he turned ever so slightly to see who was behind him, "want some company?"

"Oh," He almost looked surprised to see her, "hey, sure."

"Let's go for a walk," She suggested, gesturing towards the door, "it's nice out."

He nodded, pulling the beanie Ms. Camila had gotten him from his back pocket. He tugged it on over his ears while she readjusted the knot of her bandana, tucking the tips of her ears under the fabric.

They walked shoulder to shoulder down the street, knuckles grazing every so often as Willow blabbered on about anything of interest she saw. She named the flowers and trees they passed along the way and pointed out overhead birds, asking him to identify each one. For the most part, Hunter entertained her antics, smiling at her jokes and again explaining the difference between a blackbird, a crow, and a raven, but his enthusiasm was muted.

Gnawing on her cheek, she looked up at him, noting that his gaze was still distant. Biting back a sigh, she turned her attention elsewhere, falling into her own world of worries. She had meant this walk to be a distraction, but it was proving to do just the opposite. She became so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to realize his warmth had disappeared from her side.

She blinked, looking over her shoulder with a frown. Hunter stood a few feet behind her, peering up into a tree.

"Hunter?" She asked with a tilt of her head, backtracking her way to his side once more, "What's wrong?"

He pointed up into the tree line, "there's a cardinal up there."

Her gaze lingered on a particularly angry-looking hangnail residing his pointer finger before following it in the direction he was indicating.

"A cardinal? There is?" She squinted into the trees, "Where? I don't see one?"

Hunter let out two long whistles and a rapid succession of short ones, and somewhere from the tops of the trees, there was a response.

Willow felt her face light up, and with a breathless laugh, she asked, "How did you—" Her laughter cut short when she saw he wasn't smiling with her, "—oh, right" She nodded her head, understanding, "Flapjack."

She missed Clover, there was no doubt about it, but Flapjack had been something else entirely to Hunter. She frowned and briefly looked back up into the trees, listening as the cardinal called out again. Hunter let out a long sigh, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he began biting at the same hangnail she had noticed earlier.

"Hey," She pulled his hand from his mouth without a second thought and cradled it in her own, "don't do that. Look at your poor hands," She threw him a small smile, "they've been punished enough."

Dropping her gaze back to his hand, she grimaced. They looked worse up close. Again, without a second thought, she pressed a small kiss to his fingertips, letting her eyes flutter shut. A moment later, when she opened them back up, Hunter was staring at her with wide eyes and a red face, and the reality of what she had done hit her like a brick. She felt her face warm, but she swallowed her embarrassment and widened her smile, entwining their fingers together. His eyes only grew in size.

"Come on," She pulled him away from the tree, "do you wanna—"

"—yes—" Hunter blurted out.

"—go get slushies?" She finished, giggling as Hunter's face bloomed a deeper red.

"I—I mean, cool, sure, that sounds—" Hunter paused, "—uh, what are those, actually?"

"I dunno," She shrugged, using his hand to twirl her around as she pulled him along. The spin caused the bandana on her head to shift and expose one of her ears, "Gus is always going on about them, though, so I figured it was finally our turn to give them a shot. They're at the gas station."

"They sound ominous," Hunter twirled her again with a smile on his face, "are those the things that change his tongue colors?"

"Those are the ones!" Willow fell in step next to him, ending their impromptu dance to swing their hands between them, "They come in the big cups."

"Should we get him one?" He looked at her conspiratorially. "Or should we make him jealous?"

She hummed, tapping a finger to her cheek in thought, "Oh, definitely jealous."

He laughed then, using his free hand to fix her bandana back in its proper place, and she paused, allowing him to do so. His fingers tickled her ear, and the touch sent a fluttery pang straight through her heart. Still feeling bold from earlier and just for the hell of it, she grabbed that hand too and kissed the palm of his glove.

A high-pitched chuckle escaped from Hunter, and his eyes flitted across her face, searching for something she wasn't privy to. Then, for the briefest of seconds, his gaze flickered down to her mouth and quickly up again, audibly swallowing.

"He, uh, he'll be so mad," Hunter turned his face away from her, and she shrugged, letting go of the hand she had just kissed. Hunter hesitated before letting it fall to his side.

Squeezing the hand still holding hers, she shrugged, "I know. That's the fun part!"

"And on our way there," She tacked on in a sing-songy kind of tune, dragging her thumb up and down the top of his hand, "maybe you could tell me everything you know about cardinals? They're very cute."

It wasn't a lie, per se. Willow did think they were cute, but she had mostly just asked to get him to talk to hopefully distract him from his more unpleasant thoughts.

Hunter stared at their hands, watching her thumb, before breathing out a shaky, "okay."

"Uh, cardinals," He started, "they don't migrate. They stay year-round."

"Really?"

"Mhm," He nodded, "and they're super territorial."

"Is Flapjack?" She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand in encouragement.

He was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before his gaze traveled back to their entwined hands. He turned them over, so the front of Willow's hand was visible and slowly, almost shyly, ran his thumb up and down along the top, like she had done to him moments before.

"Flapjack?" Hunter snorted, his thumb rubbing a delicate pattern into her skin, "very much so. In fact, I've got a story about that."

"Oh?" She laughed as they walked hand and hand down the street, "do tell."

#huntlow #Anyway he info dumps the whole way there and bac #Doesn’t even have time to drink his slushie but that’s okay b/c they get back and Gus promptly swipes it away from him #Male/female cardinals are so territorial they’re known to square up with their own reflections during breeding season #if flapjack is in the human world id love to see him divebomb a bitch for even *looking* at his tree boy #cardinals are also very common in the eastern USA so it is entirely possible Hunter bird watches for cardinals in CT #ive got one more thing planned for toh between amity and willow (and maybe something about Camila) and then im back to my other stuff #…probably

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your--isgayrights · 2 years

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slow goin but its honest work

#personal #ive been trying writing warmups recently and to my great chagrin they actually help #i hate it when you find out something people say works does work and its not just becuase they're neurotypical #like okay i could have been doing this the whole time i guess.#ive also been tryin this thing i saw one of my preferred authors describing where you summarize what you want to happen until you're #just writing it. which is fun. its kind of like info dumping to myself #my problem is that whenever I do things like a normal person i feel like a failure because im not doing things i did when i was extremely #ill and would write 50 pages in a dead coma and Not Sleep. moment where you need to stop sprinting and learn how to walk smh

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the-insanity-of-mojiru · 2 years

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I should have just said I was watching Tokyo Mew Mew

#Bucchigire!#Shine On! Bakumatsu Bad Boys #ブッチギレ!#Look I did my best okay I was rushed for time and I panicked and I don't know how to condense the decade of 1860 into 1 run on sentence #What I'm learning is that I might know a little too much about the setting for me to properly not info dump on someone #Anyways after I said that no one made a comment about it so we can all safely assume no one at work thinks I'm a weirdo #LISTEN OKAY I really like Bucchigire #Insanity Draws #Insanity of Mojiru

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kalloway · 2 years

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lookin for stuff to maybe go back and work on/be inspired by and stumbled into this boy I don’t think I ever posted!

if u follow Android AU stuff, he might look vaguely familiar... (if I managed to draw him consistently, that is lmao)

there’s not enough finalized about him to warrant info-dumping just yet but BOY does part of me wanna spill the beans anyway 8D

His name’s (Alexander) Beck ^^ He’s a horrible person - loves money, has a moral compass constantly pointing towards hell, and would absolutely sell you out the first chance he gets.

#art #artists on tumblr #oc #original character #digital art #myart #okay i info-dumped a *little* but nothing too major i think hahaha #I wanna give him a better design later but I just... I didn't linger on him too long #(at the time)#but I wanna change that! I gotta give him more concrete traits n stuff too #anyway im tryin to sketch stuff but im v rusty again so it's not... going the best lmao - but this is fine #takes time to get back into it and not every sketch is gonna be good!

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splinteredglass · 2 years

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"I never did tell you much about my Clan, did I?" Tamlen's voice was soft— low enough that he almost wondered if Rose could even hear it. Initially, he figured he'd tell no one anything. It wasn't necessarily important for anyone else to know, least of all someone who wasn't Dalish. And yet as time past, as they grew closer. He felt it would clear things up.

And there was a heavy weight sitting in his chest, something he'd swear was physical if it weren't for the fact he knew better.

Guilt. It was guilt.

"They raised me." A pause, eyes focused away from Rose as he prodded his tongue to one of his fangs. He wasn't exactly sure how to put everything into words. In a way that made it all clear, "All of them. I was practically an orphan."

Blue hues cast back only momentarily, before the Warden is pacing. Moving always seemed to help him think. He figured he knew what he was going to say, and yet now that he'd taken the moment it dissapated. Like fine powder dropped in a fast running creek.

"I had a habit of running off without thinking things through," Have a habit— he knew full well it still showed. An impulsiveness brought on by curiosity or strong emotions. It wasn't something easily caged. "I was what... seven? I'd snuck out of camp despite knowing better and wandered off further than I should have. If it weren't for the factor that my mother had noticed and tracked me down I wouldn't be here right now."

Hands reach up, tearing through blonde hair that had been left unkempt for over a week now— he'd stopped bothering to keep it short, but after recent events Tamlen couldn't find it in himself to try and keep the longer strands something presentable. At least he had the option of shoving a helmet over his head most days. "Humans had found me just before she had. She... she died in the fight that broke out, and I was able to get back to the Clan."

A sigh, as the elf stopped pacing. He refused to look back towards Rose now, "My father grew distant. I can't exactly blame him, it'd been my fault. The only good thing I'd gotten out of it all was the fact that the woman who took me in most often was raising another orphan."

Mahariel. Teeth bare at the memory of them, and blue hues focus down towards hands that shake faintly. Tamlen clutched them, anger simmering beneath his skin.

"We became fast friends, though they were a few years younger than me. I... we became practically inseparable."

Tamlen felt a phantom stab, something he knew wasn't real and yet felt all too much like it was.

"Mahariel." Tamlen's voice was a wisp as the name left him. Finally, slowly— blue hues look up towards Rose. Fixating on the woman, pleading.

"The one who... that I... I killed them..." A huff, something more shaky than anything, before Tamlen pressed on, "I made them suffer. I made my mother suffer. And I don't even know if my Clan managed to move safely after I stupidly allowed those fucking shemlen to leave with a warning."

"Cousland..." The name felt odd in his mouth, as if foreign despite the familiarity of it's taste, "Rose... what if something happens to you, too?"

@fereldenhero

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ratwithahatonamat · 9 months

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Something iv seen recently that makes me really uncomfortable is people making fun of Disney adults when they exhibit autistic traits

Someone made a satire video about how “oh Disney adults won’t stop telling you facts about Disney when your in the park” and I felt so shitty because when I watched the video it was literally just info dumping

I think we need to take a step back and think about why and what we are making fun of people for you can’t use the viel of “Disney adults cringe” to absolve you of the ablism your spewing

#autism #STOP MAKING BEING AUTISTIC CRINGE!!!!#bitches be mad when autisic people display symptoms of autism #‘it’s annoying when they talk so much’ OKAY AND??? THERE JUST ENJOYING THEMSELVES #when I go to Fucking art museums or any museums you don’t think I’m info dumping the entire time?#this is not a defense of Disney adults I… I admittedly do not like them but what I will defend is the right to be cringe

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galacticrain · 1 year

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wait who are aster and zinnia?

These guys

They're some ocs of mine. Aster is the one with the white flowers and Zinnia has the red flowers. I don't think I've really talked about the story I have for them here. Probably because I'm always making changes. But here's a brief overview of the basics that probably won't change:

Essentially they're guardians of a sacred flower garden. They come from a long line of guardians who have taken care of this garden for centuries. There's a small village nearby that's supplied and helped the guardians in exchange for protection if the need should arise. Aster and Zinnia are twins which is unique because there is usually only one guardian. In the beginning of the the story they're somewhere between 10 to 12 years old. I have not decided exactly. Zinnia has always been the the more energetic of the two while Aster tends to be more calm at least compared to Zinnia. Aster often claims the role of older sister despite neither of them knowing who's older. Anyway, there's this festival in the village to celebrate a solar eclipse and at this festival it becomes increasingly obvious to Aster how much Zinnia wants explore the world beyond the garden, but can't being bound to her duties as guardian. So Aster hatches a plan. She figures if she can absorb the power of the flowers she can just take them with her and then she and Zinnia can do explore the vast world. And while this plan would work in theory she failed to account for the curse put upon the flowers by the first guardian to ward off thieves. The curse causes Aster to go berserk and scares Zinnia away. Zinnia takes some of the white flowers left over with her when she flees which angers Aster further.

This is where the story splits and I have fun playing around with different possibilities. I have the more "canon" timeline where Zinnia gets taken in by Lycoris and Dahlia. In this timeline she gets a nice family but she fells guilty about abandoning Aster, so eventually she returns in attempt to make things right. What happens after that? I don't really know.

I also have a fusion of Aster and Zinnia that I made (her name is Cosmos) and I play around with the idea of using her in some way but I'm not sure where.

There is also the mermaid au which I just have for funsies, where instead of finding Lycoris and Dahlia, Zinnia instead settles down in a small town by the sea. She ends up falling into the sea and getting turned into a mermaid. After a while Aster calms down and attempts to find her sister and comes to the small town. She finds her white flowers planted by the sea and decides to investigate but soon finds herself drowning in the ocean as well. She is saved by Mermaid Zinnia who gives her gills. This eventually causes her to turn into a mermaid as well. In the mean time she stuck beneath the waves with a weirdly clingy mermaid that she doesn't realize is her sister.

#my art #oc #my ocs #okay that was a lot #wasnt really that brief but whatever #if you wanna see more art of aster and zinnia check out this tag:#aster and zinnia #thanks for giving me the opportunity to infodump #aster #zinnia #long post #ask #rain info dumps #might be grammer and spelling mistakes i don't have time to care #everyone in this story is named after flowers #the symbolism of the flowers they're named after gives some insight into their character

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polarspaz · 2 months

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TimTim AU

((incoming info dump for stuff that happens later on in the AU))

For an entire year, Tim is able to hide Drake's existence, skillfully deflecting all questions about his odd behavior by blaming it on weird personal quirks.

Besides the only person who knew about the alternate soul residing inside him was Raven, and he was going to keep it that way.

That's what he thinks, until he walks down into the cave one day and sees Batman with the Martian Manhunter standing right next to him.

As soon as Tim's presence is know, both men look at him, and Tim knows the jig is up. He wants to run, but he knows that's impossible, the only thing he can really do now is just wait and see what happens.

"Tim be honest." Bruce pleads and Tim is stunned by how much emotion Bruce is allowing to coat his words. "Is there someone else here besides the three of us?"

It takes Tim an agonizing minute to formulate a response. "Are you going to take him away?" He finally asks. He fears the absolute worse, but he's surprised to hear the answer, "No."

Bruce explains that he only wants to talk Tim's roommate face to face, that's why he invited Manhunter, who's power could enable such a thing to happen. Seeing no better option Tim agrees, and allows Bruce to enter his mind, and meet his older, alternate soul named, Drake.

Tim, Drake, and Bruce talk for a very long time, but by the end of it, Bruce is hugging Drake, everyone's crying, and things are actually stating to look better.

Bruce is immensely relived to finally know that Tim is okay and not under the influence of something nefarious, Tim's ecstatic that the bond between him and Drake won't be broken, and Drake meanwhile can't believe he somehow got adopted by Bruce Wayne, again.

#my art #tim drake #red robin #dc comics #TimTim AU

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pomefioredove · 3 days

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Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.

Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.

ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

First Year's Ending

"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."

The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.

Everyone else is staring daggers at them.

Vil is the first to speak. "How?"

"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.

"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."

Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"

The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:

"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.

"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."

Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"

"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."

The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.

"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"

Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"

Riddle's Ending

"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.

It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.

Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.

And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"

"Nervous," you admit.

Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"

You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.

"Is he?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."

You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"

"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"

Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.

For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.

Ruggie's Ending

"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."

Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.

"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"

The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.

"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"

"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."

Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"

Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.

"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"

"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"

Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"

"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."

"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"

---

Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.

Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.

Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.

"So... what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."

"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."

The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.

"Well, I hope not,"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"

"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."

A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"

Octotrio's Ending

"Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.

Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.

"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.

"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."

Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.

---

Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.

Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.

"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.

"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"

The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"

"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"

Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.

Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"

"Thank you,"

"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.

Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"

"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"

"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"

You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"

Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"

You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"

Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.

"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.

Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"

Floyd and Azul groan in unison.

Jamil's Kalim's Ending

"Kalim al-Asim!"

Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"

Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.

Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.

Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.

"Wh-"

The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.

"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"

Your eyes widen. "You- you-"

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.

Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.

Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.

"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"

He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.

"Grim!" You whisper-shout.

"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.

Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"

You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.

"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."

"It could be worse,"

"Much worse," he agrees.

A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."

You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.

"...Thank you, Jamil,"

Vil's Ending

"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."

Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.

Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.

"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."

Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.

"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"

"You really don't have to..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"

A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.

He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.

"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.

"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"

Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.

The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.

Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.

"Come here. I need to have a look,"

You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"

He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.

Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"

Good Ending

"And our winner is... M-"

"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.

"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"

"Well I- I-"

"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"

"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"

The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.

Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"

"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."

"But-"

"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."

---

A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.

Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.

"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."

Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"

"No- wait, canceled?"

"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."

Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"

#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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lillie98 · 6 months

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You Can’t Be What You Can’t See.

Positive, authentic representation means the difference between feeling like an alien in your community and discovering your identity. I’ve been on this journey for the last four years. Diving into media, my past, and other autistic creators to put together some semblance of what it means to be me. A large piece of that puzzle snapped together last year after watching Stranger Things Season 4, specifically the Painting Scene. I could not wrap my head around why Mike didn’t take the time to comfort Will as he cried or why he didn’t seem to understand Will was talking about himself. I thought back on his whole characterization and what I would have done in that situation, and the lightbulb dinged: Mike is autistic…just like me.

It was an overwhelming moment of joy, understanding, and identity that not only did we share the same diagnosis, we practically share the same brain. Since then Autistic Mike has taken over my mind and taught me more about myself than any doctor. I’ve explored him through my writing and used his (eventual) relationship with Will as something to aspire to, that maybe someday my Will will come for me. Someone to accept, love, and understand every part of me. It is incredibly healing and life-giving and I’m so thankful for everyone involved in creating such a beautiful story. When Bhavna announced she had opened commissions for her art, I knew I had to have this turning point in my life memorialized. We worked together for about a month to come up with this piece and I could not be happier. I sobbed when I saw the preliminary sketch—I finally felt seen.

All that to say, never be embarrassed about something you love. There is someone out there who needs to see it’s okay to exist. Please enjoy Mike’s latest DnD info-dumping session while his boyfriend, Will, looks on. It’s late, they should be in bed, but Mike can’t stop and Will’s too infatuated with Mike’s happiness to make him. The world is a little too loud, so Mike donned his headphones, and Will loves the way they relax Mike and allow him to process the world a little easier. Thank you, Bhavna. Happy Stranger Things Day. ❤️

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler #byler is requited #stranger things headcanons #autistic mike wheeler #stranger things analysis #autism

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cambion-companion · 7 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 Characters with Virgin Reader

18+ only obviously. Dirty headcanons under the cut. (these are all the "good" endings btw

Halsin would honestly be a little in awed shock when you tell him. He'd treat you tenderly, go slowly and save the more rough lovemaking once you're accustomed to his...girth.

There is a lot of emotional connection that goes into the intimate act and knowing its his partner's first time would mean a great deal to him, he takes the perceived responsibility seriously.

Yall would have to go slow though, to accomodate the guy's size. Has strength as his dump stat yet is built like a brick house.

He's all for the game of seduction, especially if he is still unsure of where he stands with you and your party.

When discovering you're a virgin he acts the part, flirting and using honeyed words to manipulate your heart.

However as the two of you grow closer his feelings also change and he feels anxious about knowing he has your utter consent before taking things further.

He knows what it feels like to be used and wants to avoid causing you the same hurt and feelings of doubt, because against all odds he has begun to care for you.

So much foreplay...SO much foreplay. And you can be in whatever position you want, it's all about your comfort when the time comes to be intimate.

yeah she'd tease you at first, all in good fun, but still she has to get those sharp words in somewhere.

Soon enough the teasing gives way to concerned questions, not probing too deep into your feelings, but enough to give her hints as to how comfortable you feel with her.

We all know Shadowheart is a slow burn romance, so expect a long buildup while your relationship blossoms.

Lots of sweet kisses and witty flirtations, respecting each other's space until the time feels right to take it to the next level.

perhaps it's after one of your many swimming lessons where you Shadowheart takes the reins and becomes the teacher of a different kind of lesson.

She'd be asking questions throughout, listening to your responses and making sure everything is perfect and you're not feeling rushed.

Oh she would be so sweet. You know how Karlach is usually quite boisterous and tends toward the goofy side.

She'd sober up right quick when you discuss something so personal with her and she'd be quite pleased you decided to share this with her.

She promises to take it easy on you, at least at first wink wink, and she has the idea to allow you full control to explore her body as much as you wish.

Feel her heart, or at least where her heart used to be, it blazes hotter under your touch.

She might pop the occasional sweet joke, but her eyes and her care is on you the whole time.

She will ask if now is okay, and make sure to gain your express verbal permission before touching your body herself.

She is gentle at first, as promised, but it becomes hard for her to contain her enthusiasm as your coupling progresses. Remind her if you deem it necessary.

Gale, he'd be surprised but I think pleased.

He would want you to feel comfortable with him, and thus would info dump about his Tressym and the many books he's read about magic and the weave.

It's all about words of affirmation and quality time with Gale, he wants to show you and tell you how much you truly mean to him and reaffirm it is you, not Mystra, with whom is explosive heart now lies.

When the night comes, because he does prefer the romance of a star filled sky, he would ask you if you wish to become one with him.

Maybe astral sex is too soon for the first night, but you can certainly accept when he no doubt extends that offer.

I think it's pretty much canon that she beats the shit out of you when yall have intimate time...that wouldn't change on account of your virginity.

You'd tell her you're a virgin and she might not even know what that means, I wouldn't be surprised. Either that or she truly does not understand why you think it's important to mention.

She would encourage you to take initiative and assume a more dominant role, prodding you (probably with a stick) if you got too shy.

Later on, in her storyline when she becomes more of an individual unto herself, she will understand the softer aspects of lovemaking.

Then she will be more willing to empathize with the feelings that must come with a first-time coupling, and act a little slower accordingly.

Still prepare yourself for the occasional impatient "tchuk".

are you kidding, he'd be the ultimate gentleman.

He'd definitely get you a picnic and take you somewhere that smells better than the party camp and that stew Gale attempted to make for supper.

I feel like he'd be more forward than Gale or Karlach, wanting to feel some semblance of peace that your body and your affection could offer.

He'd for sure be drawn to your inexperience, feeling a sense of protectiveness overcome him. (yes yes I understand this post is full of innuendo)

Might wax poetic about his many adventures but pull him in for another kiss and he'll quickly forget his train of thought.

yes, I made him wait in line, little shit

This cambion knows how to fuck, sit down and block me if you vehemently disagree.

He finds out you're a virgin, and interested in him? Game over.

He plays the long game in all his dealings, and won't be bothered if you choose to play hard to get....in fact he prefers it. Cat and mouse etc.

He's not gentle, nope, but when you're finally in his claws you hardly want him to be.

Doesn't have the bonus of Incubus spittle acting as an aphrodisiac but has had many bedmates and centuries to study how best to use another's body to pleasure his own.

Oh and bring you pleasure of course.

Go play DOS2

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 11 days

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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

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