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#(that book series formed my middle school experience i love them so much)
sunflowerius · 1 year
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i really do constantly stay losing (consistently getting obsessed with things that have little to no fandom)
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nanowrimo · 11 months
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30 Covers, 30 Days 2023: Day 3
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Day 3 is here and it feels like things are just heating up. Today's feature is Code 51 by Jill Chapman, a Young Adult novel full of mystery. This novel cover was designed by the amazing returning artist, Cookie Redding!
(For those of you who don’t know, 30C30D stands for 30 Covers, 30 Days in which 17 Wrimos and 5 YWP Participants get the chance to win a professionally designed cover! The rest of the days are being filled by community features. We’ll be posting a cover a day throughout November, so make sure to check them out!)
Code 51
Jacqueline Kolby wants to get through her senior year in high school to get on with better things. She doesn't want attention in or out of class from anyone. Jac, as her friends call her, ignores headlines and surely doesn't want to be one. However, when an arsonist seems to target her family, staying in the background isn't possible anymore. Jac's dad gets burned in a barn fire after several of their corn fields are razed. Now she's had enough. The police and fire marshal don't have any suspects. Her mom is busy caring for her dad while her grandpa mourns the recent loss of her grandma. Jac and her two friends set out to solve the mystery before anyone else gets injured. Who would want to hurt her family? Why now?
About the Author
Jill resides in Southern Indiana with her husband of forty-five years. They enjoy their country lifestyle and visiting with their children and grandchildren. Her life centers around her family and her yellow lab, Indy. She is an avid movie watcher and loves Mexican food and watercolor painting. 
She has published a middle-grade mystery series titled The Bomb Squad. Code 51 will be her first venture into young adult mystery/suspense books.
Jill’s interest in books began in childhood when reading provided a wonderful outlet for her wild imagination. She loves to tell stories about her life experiences with humor mixed in to convey the sense of adventure she feels daily. Jill says her life is like a good plate of nachos, a tiny kick of spice, and a whole lotta cheese.  
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About the Designer
Cookie Redding is an artist, designer and lecturer with the School of Visual Arts at the Pennsylvania State University and teaches courses in the Digital Art and DMD Programs. Her work encompasses the art and design world, with a focus on multiple media forms of expression.
Redding's influences are from a diverse array of disciplines spawning from the classics and antiquities, to history and tech. Her explorations integrate these elements into a study of symbols. The imagery she deals with within her work is a study from the beauty of words and by being within nature. Her explorations show how the literary world meets the natural work with color and texture. Check her out on Instagram and Facebook!
Cover Design Process:
This year. we gave designers the optional prompt to explain their design process for the cover! Here's Cookie's:
My process typically starts with some sketching, brainstorming and listmaking. Then I start to hone my composition concept while also searching for imagery that would be ideal for the cover. I went through around 8 iterations and then my concept adjusted a bit to include the grid--that's when everything fell into place! Thanks so much for letting me be a part of 30 Covers 30 Days again--it's the highlight of my design year!
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theanimeview · 5 months
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[Analysis] Black Butler & Aestheticism
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Source: Chapter 138
By: Peggy Sue Wood | @pswediting
To be honest, after completing my Master’s thesis on Oscar Wilde and aestheticism, I never thought I’d revisit the concept of aestheticism again in my life. Yet, here I am—drawn back into it and overlapping it (much to my dismay) with the world of Black Butler, a series I’ve loved since middle school. With another arc now adapted into an anime this season, I’m excited to discuss the latest installment of this gothic tale, this time with a bit on aestheticism, the gothic, and academia.
Black Butler: Public School Edition is a distinctive arc. While each arc in the series has its unique qualities, this one is perhaps the most interesting to me because it is the first time we really get to see Ciel work independently and prove himself apart from Sebastian for a prolonged period. Sure, Sebastian is there and working too, but Ciel is powering through this particular arc solo more than we’ve seen before and since. So while the series has always told us Ciel is smart, this time we actually get to see him in action. 
Moreover, in this arc we get to see the role of aestheticism and gothic literary form wrapped in a dark academia theme—a match made in my dark academia aesthetic soul. 
Of course, Black Butler fans have probably noticed how the series consistently embraces various aspects of the gothic aesthetic, but what is aestheticism and how is that different?
Aestheticism is a cultural and artistic movement that emerged in the late 19th century, with Oscar Wilde being a known proponent of the movement, the setting in particular being in the second half of the Victorian era. It emphasizes the importance of beauty and the pursuit of refined sensory experiences as the highest ideals in life and is often associated with a rejection of the notion that art and beauty should be valued for its moral or political utilization rather than for its own sake. To quote, badly I might add, my own thesis: 
“the literature on the subject of Aestheticism highlights four consistent tenets of the movement (and the art within said movement),… These four principles are the pursuit of beauty for the sake of beauty, the elevation of art or the pursuit of beauty alone, the celebration of individualism, and the idea that art is separate from life, meaning that while art should not have limits, life should” (Wood, pages 4-5 I think). 
Meaning:
The pursuit of beauty for the sake of beauty = We should like things simply because we like them and appreciate that sometimes things are just beautiful without meaning behind it.
The elevation of art or the pursuit of beauty alone = We should champion the autonomy of artistic expression, rejecting external moral or utilitarian purposes in expression.
The celebration of individualism = An encouragement of individuals to seek and appreciate beauty in all aspects of life.
The idea that art is separate from life = While we should pursue a beautiful life and not always try to apply morals or ethics or utility to art, we should not confuse that with reality. Reality has rules and should, but art can and should be free for expression of any and all forms. This rule extends to several things. For example, a morally and ethically horrible story about doctors killing patients might be a well-written thriller that people love, but that doesn’t mean the reader likes murderers. If they like the book, it doesn’t mean that they should become a murderer either. It means that life does and should have moral and ethical limitations, but art should be free of those and that we can like art while being free of those same moral and ethical limitations.
On the other hand, an “aesthetic” is a broader term that refers to the appreciation and study of beauty, whether in nature or art. It encompasses a wide range of styles, tastes, and artistic preferences, without necessarily subscribing to the specific principles of the Aesthetic movement. 
With that said, I always viewed Black Butler as a largely aesthetic piece, not applying aestheticism. The aesthetic of the work is gothicism, and you can see this in every arc, which contains some aesthetic focus within the realm of the gothic. We see it in a wide range of themes from the circus to J-pop imagery, but with different forms of the gothic theme based on the setting/frame. These aesthetics also fit within the realm of the gothic novel. Paraphrasing here, ”The gothic novel is defined by its emphasis on mystery, horror, and the supernatural. It frequently features elements such as haunted castles, concealed passageways, spectral visions, and various artifacts that contribute to the overall atmosphere of terror within the narrative (NTC’s Dictionary of Literary Terms by Kathleen Morner and Ralph Rausch).
When we think of the gothic, we often think of the architecture or clothing styles, but there is a lot more variation to this aesthetic than you might think and we see how the creator is applying these variations of the aesthetic throughout the series as we trace some pivotal parts of late-Victorian era history.
So, broken down, we have the Black Butler Arc & Red Butler Arc, which present a basic gothic tale. We have the Indian Butler Arc, which focuses less on the gothic, but more broadly sets us in late Victorian England to match the Red Butler Arc’s Jack the Ripper narrative, based on the socio-political context. 
Then we have the Circus Arc, which presents a new, dark meaning to the freak shows of England’s history and returns us to the gothic novel themes. We have the Phantomhive Manor Murders Arc, which I’ve discussed already as being true to the gothic form for the inclusion of the sublime. Next is the The Luxury Liner Arc, which coincides with the Titanic that sank just as the Victorian era was coming to an end. The Public School Arc, which we’re discussing here, followed by Emerald Witch Arc and the Blue Arc(s) that I will not discuss at the moment, but probably will in a later post. 
Now, all of these arcs are–in some way–gothic. They all feature the supernatural, they all include a bit of horror, and they all contain some mystery that the Queen’s watchdog must solve. In the Public School arc, the story unfolds within the chaotic halls of academia, weaving a prolonged and intricate narrative involving demon contracts, soul reapers, and other unearthly mysteries. The aesthetic is still gothic, this time as a dark academia vibe, and though I started to notice this turn to the aesthetic during the circus arc, really all of BB has spent a significant amount of time overlapping history, image, and the gothic to build us up to the aesthetic notion. 
However—when thinking of the latest arc to be animated, something clicked. In this arc it really started to click for me that, actually, this work is both a gothic novel and a follower of aestheticism, much like Dorian Gray or Wuthering Heights.
In Chapter 138, Sebastian makes references to following the aesthetic–and that does not seem unintentional. He could have said it was against a code, or policy, or moral or ethic–but he doesn’t. He says it’s against his “aesthetic” and all throughout the series Sebastian has a very hard time letting go of beautiful things. The mansion must be clean, the staff must be well dressed (so too should their lord), the cats are “beautiful” creatures, he doesn’t do “dirty” things to the best of his ability and will give up on what is natural in appearance or progress for a human with his human image to maintain his aesthetics. 
So too does our story. 
Ciel is rejecting external morals by maintaining his contract with Sebastian. We’re told in the anime and the manga that he doesn’t care what is “right” and he’s not getting revenge for anyone else but himself–others be damned. 
What I pull from this is that Sebastian is representative of the art for art’s sake and Ciel is the elevation of art, and their approach is that of celebration of individualism. As Sebastian encourages Ciel’s individuals to seek and appreciate “beauty” in all aspects of life on the road to hell because, as mentioned, art is separate from life. The consequences of following the aesthetic, in this case revenge, are there and Ciel is actively moving towards them because his “art” is not separated from his life.  
If I am right about this, then it adds some new meaning to the work as a whole. The gothic novel element still stands, but it adds additional meaning to the end and makes the use of Hamlet in the “His Butler, Performer” so much more reflective of the tale. Ciel is chasing revenge for revenge’s sake, for his own sake and it is a costly journey. One that, like Dorian Gray, will capture Ciel’s soul not because of the revenge itself, but because of the inability to separate life from art.
To me, it is an absolutely fascinating idea! I look forward to seeing how aestheticism works its way further into the work. What about you all? Do you agree or disagree with this idea?
Copyedited by: Krow Smith | @coffeewithkrow
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meanscarletdeceiver · 2 years
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Thank you for your amazing answer. I would love to pick your brain on one other thing. My friend says the Strike Trio(TM) are Gordon's best friends. I think Gordon and James' friendship is sort of shallow so I say All three engines are now great friends(TM) are Gordon's best friends. Thoughts? 
¿Por que no los dos?
Ultimately I think you guys have to define what "best friend" means here.
I do think you raise an interesting point about Gordon and James but there are still... a lot of caveats to consider.
(The tl;dr is gonna be point 6 out of 7 under the readmore.)
1. I would emphasize that, overall, Gordon's most important circle is the other five original engines. In the RWS timeline, Thomas, Edward, Henry, Gordon, James, and Percy went through the Depression together. They went through World War II together. They went through Henry's wreck and rebuild together. They saw the beginning of the RWS books' publication together. They faced the huge unknown of nationalisation together. The only other engine acquired by FC1 was Toby and even Toby arrived late in his tenure, after all those formative experiences. I suspect there are others of the Nameless Eighty who were actually there pre-Toby but it's probably no coincidence that we don't know them—I'm sure they haven't broached Gordon's circle of trust.
It's not that I think Gordon is on the whole ill-disposed to newcomers from Toby on. (That's James's job!) Like I'm sure he counts the other characters we know of as friends too but I doubt he ever bonded with any of the newcomers on the same level. (BoCo is a bit of an exception but there is also some ambiguity there as to how much BoCo is humouring him. I hope it's more than that because Gordon really puts himself out there in that relationship in a way that always amazes me but it's hard to be certain from the text that BoCo is doing more than just being polite.) Almost all the other original six are seen to really be able to integrate comfortably with new characters. But I'm not surprised that Gordon struggles because he has that aloof quality. It's going to be hard going for him to emotionally "overlook" a missing twenty years or more of developing trust...
So I think it's better to think of Gordon's relationship in terms of tiers. The original group is all of a tier, and we are in danger of splitting hairs if we try to rank his relationships within that tier. I'd say these relationships are different but they all very important to him.
2. That said, Gordon's "best friend" is pretty obviously Henry. Like, we all seem to agree on this, yes? Beyond that, you guys seem to be trying to rank James and Edward... And again, I fear it's too easy to start getting into splitting hairs. Like to me ranking all your friends is a bit middle school, you know? There are friends that give me different things, that bring out different parts of me, while not necessarily being better or worse than other friends...
That came out more accusatory than I meant, heh. I just like emphasizing this part. Gordon and Henry's friendship is so THERE and so important. Moments like "Henry's not going" and "That's settled, then" and "Tugboat Annie!" are just. I can't. Literally one of the best and most consistent things about the series. ♥
3. On your side, there is something particularly important about the ATEAGF™ (lol) group. It's just a vibe that is obviously felt pretty widely. I mean the original line came from the first RWS book, with all its Pilot Episode Weirdness, and it would have been easy for Awdry to memoryhole it as he introduced, well, James—but he very much didn't. In Henry's and Edward's later books, there is a story in each dedicated to revisiting the Three Railway Engines dynamic over the years asdfk;ladsf; (Arguably Gordon's book at least flirts with it too, though in that case James is also always in the mix—but we'll tackle James in a moment.) In these showcase stories, there is conflict but they're also still undeniably tight. In the Christopher Awdry books he doesn't focus on this relationship but he does throw in one line showing Gordon speaking of Edward warmly, deliberately assuring us that it lives on. This is also why Gordon's panic at Edward and Henry's departure in "Forever and Ever" will always be Andrew Brenner's most iconic moment (even if it's also his most controversial, lol). Like, we the fandom viewers may not have been on board with the concept, but despite our resistance we felt it. It's not like other TVS what-the-hell moments where you can ignore it—Gordon's characterization there DOES resonate.
As I've discussed before—way back when—he can be really brutal at times to Henry and Edward even after he's supposedly their long-time friend and I diagnose this as Gordon just... letting himself be messier with them, essentially? His crushing commentaries at the beginning of "Gordon's Whistle" and "Edward's Exploit" are totally inappropriate. But I don't think he's conscious of any malice in either case, I think he's scared because he's thinking of his friends' mortality and he doesn't know how to handle it, but. BUT. For whatever reason, in these cases he doesn't choose to put on his usual mask of the gallant hero dismissing danger. Instead he's more... honest, I think, than he usually is. (And frankly, when he is being honest I think we can see why he normally keeps all his shit buried because he clearly does not know how to deal with these emotions.)
Anyway I think the significance for all of this is that Gordon (the Loftiest Creation in All Existence, Doncha Know) has, in his heart if not always in his head, bestowed upon Henry and Edward a sort of honorary equality. Like, he relates to Thomas, Percy, and even James in the role of a benevolent patron (whose long-suffering benevolence is sometimes justly tired!) For Whatever Reasons, Gordon seems to really see Edward and Henry as friends in the sense of the engines that he is the most willing to be vulnerable with. And even that degree of vulnerability is... not a lot. But it's something.
I say for "whatever" reasons as I'm not convinced that just pointing to the events of The Three Railway Engines explains it. Then again, perhaps it does. Perhaps it all comes down to Henry and Edward, elated from their success, were very nice about it when they came back to take Gordon home and it was just the first time in Gordon's ultra-competitive life that he was down and another engine didn't kick him while he was there. I mean, we have a sense of what the other Sodor engines were like and honestly it could well be that the Doncaster Prototype Circuit (Gordon would not have been the only one) was pretty cut-throat. So yeah, maybe that was enough. But then again, maybe there's more to it—not least of which, I don't think it hurt that Henry and Edward were not competition for him at the time the way the other Sodor tender engines were—and, ofc, Gordon melted down a bit once Henry was rebuilt and he was, and come to think of it Duck did cite jealousy of Edward as a reason for everyone acting like asshats, and hmmmm... yeah.
Okay, so in short: Perhaps Gordon let his guard down, way back when, partly because Edward and Henry didn't have a go at him after his burst safety valve and were just generally pretty decent, and also they were safe for him to relax around because it's not like they were going to challenge his primacy.
Not the way that, in a couple short years, James would.
4. Which brings us to James, and therefore to Strike Trio.
But I want to note the foundation of the Gordon and James relationship. Because here there is jealousy from the start:
In 1925, James comes back from overhaul. He's new and improved and in a shiny new color and he immediately starts getting attention from passengers.
We do know that Gordon starts in on James right away—in the RWS version of their double-header, James is already fretting a bit about Gordon, to the point where Edward tells him the story of Gordon getting stuck on the hill as a way to reassure him that Gordon's kinda full of hot air. But Gordon doesn't appear till later in the book, where "[he] and Henry would talk of nothing but bootlaces." But this is brought up in relation to the fact that James is rising again in the Fat Controller's estimation. And Gordon in particular feels the need to talk down to him. "You talk too much, little James... A fine, strong engine like me has something to talk about... [boasting continues]... What are you doing? Odd jobs? Ah well, we all have to begin somewhere, don't we. Run along now..."
It's enough to make anyone want to commit murder tbh. But also, as is pretty typical with Gordon, it's not outright insults. It's patronizing.
And then of course James becomes only the second Sodor engine who can pull the express on his own.
And Gordon immediately—while still being patronizing about it!—switches gears into treating James like a chum.
I am not here accusing Gordon of conscious politicking, especially as I don't even think he's capable of it (certainly he isn't in 1925). I think when he expresses warmth it's because he damn well feels it. He's capable of simply being impressed, and he was. But I said all this to sketch out how, throughout James's book, James is clearly a threat to Gordon.
This makes it hilarious how Gordon never seems to quite get over treating James like a junior friend. "Never mind, little James. I'm going to push behind." Like. In this book, James is clearly in the same category as Thomas (and therefore the same category as Percy!)—"protege" or a "little brother"—a little engine who is needlessly rude and disrespectful but whom Gordon grandly forgives.
The dynamic painted so far—Gordon taking James under his wing; Gordon bestowing on James the honor of being his friend, and furthermore James agreeing to this dynamic—continues in Brenner-penned TVS. The scene in S3 "Trust Thomas" comes especially to mind—Gordon pulls the same evil-mentor shenanigans on James that in RWS he did with Sir Handel: "Now, if you were ill, you couldn't push trucks here, or go to the quarry there, now could you?" And again! James is comfortable with it! "What a good idea, I'll try it..."
I guess this point actually circles back to All Three Engines Are Now Great Friends™. James could challenge Gordon's primacy—I mean he'd probably lose out, but he could—and so it seems to me that Gordon never, ever lets his guard down around James. Puts James in the "little engines I've adopted, to save them from themselves" category, because that allows a version of intimacy... but without Gordon risking the loss of any face. Henry I and Edward could not challenge Gordon's primacy, and therefore I'm inclined to think Gordon did let his guard down around them, in the early years, in a way he never had with anyone else before, and wouldn't again for a very long time—if ever.
Gordon can and will verbally savage Edward and Henry if he starts to feel Feelings when they're at their weak points. But when Thomas and Percy and James are at their weakest points, Gordon would never.
It's just two different kinds of intimacy. But I'm eternally amused at the mental and emotional gymnastics Gordon went through to put James into that second category, back in the '20s.
(And why are we focusing so much on the '20s? Well, because I think Gordon grew from there, but at the same time he's very emotionally conservative so whatever dynamics and habits he fell into in the 1920s are still going to be going pretty strong even now in the 2020s.)
5. All this said, I gotta say, on the other side of things: I would not, I would not, underestimate the strength of the Strike Trio™ friendship.
It's a different kind of friendship but I hesitate to go so far as to say it's "shallow." Actually I think it has a very strong foundation—their friendship was forged in fire (I will never believe for a second Henry and James had even really begun to do more than tolerate each other before) when they took collective action against the Fat Controller, who (as he had already demonstrated before, in pretty dramatic terms) has power of life and death over them.
It doesn't matter here how shallow their reasons for doing so may have been. I'm talking here about the way they came together over their complaints. They shared them, they fed into each other's sense of grievance, the sum of their discontent was much more than the individual annoyance they all brought to the table. They banded together and together they faced the lions.
It's unprecedented in the series, and there's never anything quite like it afterwards. It was gutsy, it was seismic, it was huge. They were also willing physically to turn against Edward, whom they had all been friends with before, and again it's not their shining moment as individuals but let's be for real, dramatically excluding others is a very powerful group-building exercise, it's why so many groups wind up doing something like it, it works so far as establishing a collective identity.
Then they were all basically thrown in locomotive prison for a while, together. It must have sucked but also? It would have also really put the final seal on things. Prior to this James was punished in this way by himself, Henry was tunnelled for a very long time but also by himself, Gordon in particular is noted to have been on hand watching Edward's tenure in the sheds and putting allllllll the distance between that and his own reality. Now the hammer falls again on all three alike—but they face it together.
I'm not the least surprised that they would be firm friends after all this.
There's one other factor that I think gives your friend a very strong case. For all I agree that there's a special, particular bond between 2, 3, and 4... 2 isn't around. Not regularly, at least—not every morning, every afternoon, every evening, all night. 3, 4, and 5 live together. That degree of intimacy, that sheer number of face-time hours—multiplied over what is by now one. hundred. years.—uhhhh yeah. That's going to be hard to overtake. There is going to be a Strike Trio closeness that Gordon will not have with Edward and that's about that.
We have been talking lately about the possibility of the Strike Trio drifting apart over the years, and to what degree they did, and what it signifies... those posts were after your ask, but I'm sure you saw them. And to some degree felt vindicated! But I think it's the same phenomenon of The Three Railway Engines after 1923(?) or whatever—there is a drift, there is distance, the relationship itself is not erased. And if that was true for them, it would be even more true for Strike Trio after decades living and working together so closely.
6. So I guess ultimately I agree with your friend, bwaha.
Mostly, though, I think they're all just really lucky to have so long to grow and develop, and to have newcomers arriving to mix things up and help them grow even more, but most of all to be in a position where no one has to lose touch with the friends who have touched their lives. We should all be so blessed, honestly.
7. (Also, the more I think about it, the more I realize that Wilbert Awdry was kinda full of it. Like, yes, I sympathize with his frustration in that 'Thomas isn't the main character! it's an ENSEMBLE SERIES.' But also, this discussion makes me realize '... yeah, buddy, sure, but it IS amazing how much of your series and its beats we preserve even if we boil down the whole RWS to just 'Gordon the Autistic Aristocrat Engine's Lifelong Adventures in Forming Healthy Relationships with Others and Himself 💙'. )
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mo0n-water · 1 year
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hey!
i forgot to answer you yesterday but better late than never right?
my bookshelf is quite outdated style wise and honestly i think i’m going to change it soon. the top shelf is all the series in rainbow order. the bottom shelf has scrapbooks on the left, some nonfiction books next to that and a safe in the middle (which i can no longer open because i lost the key and took the batteries out, so the code doesn’t work). to the right of that are all my pretty books eg leather or clothbound.
i think one of the books that says a lot about me is the 600+ page collection of poetry in latin because a) i do not understand latin and b) i still try to read it anyway. i think it’s says a lot about my personality in ways that i don’t fully understand. i stole it from my school library and snuck it home and it has sat on the top of my bookcase ever since. but more seriously, i’d have to go with the flower fairy books by cicely mary barker that my godmother gave me as a child, especially the season ones, because they are so beautiful and i really love them with all my heart, even though they are children’s books. don’t know if that’s what you wanted but hey :)
todays question for you is: what is your relationship to loneliness? or alternatively if you are in a more lighthearted mood, how would you spend the perfect day?
to address your question from yesterday, i think i will stay anonymous for a while longer but i will eventually reveal my identity, i promise!
sending you lots of love, have an amazing day <33
as i alluded to before, i think what you’ve said about your bookshelf tells more about you than your tumblr url or your name ever could. not in a “i know who you are” type of way, but in an “i understand how you see the world” type of way. i think both of your answers to the book question - the latin collection & the children’s book - say a lot about you in very contrasting ways. not gonna psychoanalyze perfect strangers on main, but thank you for trusting me with that response! genuinely didn’t expect an answer on that haha.
i’d like very much to say that loneliness is something that doesn’t plague me, but i’ve been wondering lately if maybe loneliness is just something i’m going to live with for the rest of my life. it feels like a stranger to me, & the status quo, all at once. but i don’t know if loneliness is such a bad thing. i’ve come to despise contentment, because the idea of not needing to search for more is a suffocating one. is loneliness the solution to that? i feel it the most profoundly when i’m with other people, but my mind feels like it’s on a parallel & distinctly separate plane. i write a lot about that feeling, in songs & stories, but also apparently tumblr posts vaguely directed at strangers.
but yeah, as far as my relationship to loneliness goes, i would call it a companion but not a friend. i don’t know what void i’m shouting this into, but i hope it understands. good question!
i’ll end this on a lighter note, since that was… heavy, haha. i didn’t mean to bum anyone out, but oh well, it’s my blog i suppose. my friends know me well enough to expect that, & strangers should come to.
but yeah, how would i spend the perfect day? the perfect day has infinite forms, because it’s whatever day i’m living. in my head, the perfect day is a warm one in july, two years ago, spotting my best friend at the top of the hill. i think today i’m going to go to the coffee shop & get some writing done, & hopefully i’ll find a friend to hang out with & stave off some of that loneliness. i’m not sure. friends are weirdly hard to come by in the summer, which i feel like is its own version of being lonely. i want to experience life & sunshine with someone today.
i hope you’re having your own perfect day, whatever that means to you! thanks for the question kind stranger, wishing you all the best <3
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loveoversense · 2 years
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So I'm reliving my middle school obsession with Vampire Academy with the show and am, honestly, loving it. The more diverse cast? All the queer shit? Absolutely up my alley! More thoughts under the cut because spoilers for both the books and the series so far~ (beware! really long rambly post filled with some oversharing on my part coming up! But if you want to dump your erratic thoughts on the show somewhere, my messages are available! Would love to talk about it and share thoughts with someone lol)
Okay, so mainly gonna be going off about episode 7, might come back later for thoughts on the earlier eps and some are sprinkled throughout this post as well. I saw a post somewhere before about how someone couldn't see how the Victor we'd been introduced to in the first 6 eps could be the one to pull a Natalie so to say and do that to one of his own daughters. And I don't think they necessarily will pull out Natalie, or even if they do, they have now set it up perfectly. Victor will be going through the trials, ostensibly, and now, he's lost so much in pursuit of being King, he's lost his daughter, perhaps his husband too, depending on how this all unfolds. If he feels he will lose his shot at being King, after having lost everything else, I could see it make perfect sense that he gets desperate enough to put Lissa through what happens in the books in order to get her to heal him so he can become King. After all, giving up this? After losing everything else dear to him? Victor is convinced of his cause, and passionate and determined as we've seen so far. He totally would.
Typing this and immediately also felt like adding a disclaimer that I think it is a slightly off colour allegory to real world politics to have the whole 'yes elementalist aka rightwinger extremism is bad BUT ALSO LEFTISTS/UNIONISTS (is that what the queen called them?) CAN BE OVERZEALOUS AND BAD YEAH?' trope like i' m kinda annoyed by the forced centrism we see in media every time they touch on a political issue anywhere, especially because like, Victor/the unionists' 'radical' philosophy is that maybe don't send actual children out to die? And also maybe people shouldn't made to breed like animals against their will? And, and here's the wild part, maybe minorities - I mean dhampirs- are people too who have rights and we've been treating them badly? Right like what part of that philosophy/the current political climate suggests that there are actual people in power who stand for minority rights who are like, torturing people to get the point across? What situation in our society makes you believe that that is somehow a warning of equal footing with the actual, physical, tangible threat from right wing governments-I mean elementalists- that POC, disabled, queer and otherwise disenfranchised communities - I mean dhampirs- experience daily?
Okay I realise I just went on a tangent, but I promise I do really enjoy the show! I just have... Notes.
Adrian! What a guy, loved seeing him pop-up this early. Immaculate vibes. I never got round to reading Bloodlines so I only know the generic lines, but I love how it's a more subtle drunkenness that's being played. Like he's woozy and off kilter but he's not stumbling into every corner. Which kinda fits? Adrian is self-medicating, has been doing so for a while, it's a skill he developed. Drunk enough to take the edge off, not too far gone in moments he needs some clarity, especially on a mission this important. Also, this man's facial expressions are A+. I live expressive faces, I have have it too. Can't way to see him rile up Dimitri as he continues flirting with Rose.
And then, the OTP that got me into fanfiction. No really. I discovered fanfic through Vampire Academy on fanfiction.net (my first ever fic that I wrote was indeed my own rendition of Last Sacrifice when the book hadn't come out yet and true to form, I never finished it and it is terrible, which, it was written by a 13-year-old, so fair enough) , and through there I got to Tumblr, and here we are more than 10 years later. Time really flies.
I also just remembered, and omg what a wild ride this post is turning out to be, that it was a VA fanfic that made me first realise I wasn't straight. I didn't have the correct terminology yet, but it must have been at 14 or so that I read a fic that wasn't centered on Rose and Dimitri, but Rose and Lissa. And I distinctly remember lying in bed, reading this fic, and just going "Oh. I am not straight." mind you this was during puberty which is hard enough as is and I didn't exactly have great queer rep in my life, I believe this was even before we had Glee to watch, so I wasn't as thrilled with this revelation at the time, but none the less, it happened. And the good news, these days I'm absolutely thrilled to be a raging bisexual. Which actually makes for a lovely little bridge back to the actual subject at hand!
The absolutely gorgeous couple that is Rose and Dimitri. All the props to Sisi Stringer and Kieron Moore for their excellent faces and the acting they do with them! You're both very hot and I hope you know it and also you do the acting good! Love the chemistry, the playfulness they gave the couple, the tenderness they introduced and the way they set up the dynamic. Live how they out to words why Dimitri clings to a system that is actually really fucked up. He's coping, in the only way he knows how. He doesn't trust himself, and this system has such clear rules that no matter how fucked up those rules are, he knows where every line is, and thus he can stay far far away from them and beevr even risk crossing them. Until of course he meets Rose, and suddenly he wants something more than not to cross the line, he sees that crossing those lines might actually give him good things as well. Ugh.
Also saw another post, not that I don't love when my fave characters are happy but also, as any storyteller, I like it better when they suffer. They can be happy later! For now gimme all the juicy drama~ makes the tender apologies and getting back together all the more sweet afterwards.
Also Daniela, love your take on Lissa, just trying to do the best she can for her friend whom she lives more than anyone, so she's pushing her away because she thinks that's the only way to protect her. Ouch. Calling me out there but so beautifully portrayed.
Also am I just terminally pessimistic or was there anyone else that saw the kid with the football and went "Ahh look! Cannon fodder!" (is this a generally known term? I use it to refer to characters, purely created to be killed of at a certain point. Probably not an official literary term, but I've always lived it for its evocative ability).
Also just a lot of love for the political intrigue. Setting this up as a major plot line from the start was smart I believe. I am curious to see whether the idea for the storylines will be that we get the first trials and Tatiana wins, and then she follows her fate in the books, and we get a new round in what would be like 3 or so seasons where Lissa competes in the trials, or if they plan to enter the Lissa/lost dragomir storyline this early on. I don't think so honestly.
Also im betting that season 1 ends with Rose and Lissa making their grand escape which, with Rose and Dimitri being ~entangled~ already would make that reunion even juicier. I really hope they get at least a few seasons to tell this story, I think some really cool things could be done with it!
Also! They curse! Lots! I love it!
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whimsicaldragonette · 2 years
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Audio ARC Review: Night of the Raven, Dawn of the Dove by Rati Mehrotra
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Publication Date: October 18, 2022
Synopsis:
To learn what she can become, she must first discover who she is. Katyani’s role in the kingdom of Chandela has always been clear: becoming an advisor and protector of the crown prince, Ayan, when he ascends to the throne. Bound to the Queen of Chandela through a forbidden soul bond that saved her when she was a child, Katyani has grown up in the royal family and become the best guardswoman the Garuda has ever seen. But when a series of assassination attempts threatens the royals, Katyani is shipped off to the gurukul of the famous Acharya Mahavir as an escort to Ayan and his cousin, Bhairav, to protect them as they hone the skills needed to be the next leaders of the kingdom. Nothing could annoy Katyani more than being stuck in a monastic school in the middle of a forest, except her run-ins with Daksh, the Acharya’s son, who can’t stop going on about the rules and whose gaze makes her feel like he can see into her soul. But when Katyani and the princes are hurriedly summoned back to Chandela before their training is complete, tragedy strikes and Katyani is torn from the only life she has ever known. Alone and betrayed in a land infested by monsters, Katyani must find answers from her past to save all she loves and forge her own destiny. Bonds can be broken, but debts must be repaid.
My Rating: ★★★★★
*My Review after the cut
My Review
I loved this book so much! It's so nice to get a good standalone adventure that wraps up in a satisfactory way but doesn't suffer from feeling too abrupt. I thought it was the perfect length and the pacing was excellent throughout. I connected very quickly with the characters and was consistently surprised by the plot twists.
One of my favorite things is reading fantasy books set in places other than "Medieval Europe" and learning about the customs, mythical creatures, food, clothing, etc and there is plenty of all of that in this book where the setting is an alternate medieval India.
The writing was beautiful and kept me fully engaged while I read and listened. There were many passages I took note of for their beauty.
I loved learning about all of the different monsters. I had limited knowledge of most of them and so I appreciated the descriptions of their physical forms and actions. It never felt info-dump-y though and was always relevant to the plot.
I especially loved how there were many descriptions of monsters and their monstrous ways and it managed to be bloody and occasionally horrific without being horror. I was never really scared by the monsters - only intrigued. Especially since there is an emphasis on the monsters' humanity even though they are not human. They're very different, but in many ways they aren't. In fact I would say that the most monstrous characters were humans.
I loved the slow-burn romance - there was just enough of it to make me root for them while not overpowering the rest of the story - the magic, the monsters, the politics, and Katyani's journey to knowing and finding herself were the main focus.
Katyani goes through many trials throughout the story as she learns who she is, who she was, and who she can become. Her journey of self-discovery is compelling and pulls the reader breathlessly along for the ride.
The audiobook narrator did an excellent job bringing the story and characters to life. She obviously knew how to pronounce all of the unfamiliar terms that I would have stumbled over, and that made it a richer experience.
Even though this is a standalone and does wrap up satisfactorily, it leaves room for future books exploring Katyani and Daksh's adventures. I hope the author does write such sequels, and will read them as soon as I can get my hands on them.
*Thanks to NetGalley, Wednesday Books, and Macmillan Audio for providing an e-arc and audio arc for review.
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Thoughts on Mistborn: The Final Empire
I don't know how to handle long Tumblr posts about my hyperfixations but here we go lmao.
That was an incredible two-month long experience. I never thought I would be willing or able to finish a 600+ page book, but Sanderson made it possible. Even more amazing since this is the first novel I've read for leisure since middle school. I am still shocked about what happened in the climax, and I have so many thoughts, questions, and a few nitpicks.
Strengths:
Vin and Kelsier: These two were definitely the highlight characters. They had extremely interesting arcs, and have an incredibly heartwarming and inspiring dynamic. Vin is very relatable and was a joy watching her gain confidence, trust the crew, and find love in Elend. I've recently felt like I'm too afraid to take chances, or to express my emotions, or even to form a deep bond with someone(romantic or platonic). I want to be stronger than I am. I could see Vin within myself and wanted to see her grow as a person and Allomancer. But I also fell in love with Vin's flaws. She always lost sight of herself as Valette, and it made her arc that much more memorable. Kelsier is probably my favorite character between the two. As the book progressed he definitely expressed darker traits, like pitting Demoux and Bilg against each other using Allomancy, or making a religion out of himself, but I still admired his goals and understood them. His ideology, shades of gray, and ability to keep smiling and hoping and inspiring others tore through my pessimistic heart. Many of his quotes now stick with me, I will miss him very much.
The magic system: Whenever I heard about Sanderson, his hard magic systems were always brought up as a pro. I am glad to say those claims ring true. Allomancy is an incredible magic system that harkens back to the boundless praise I give Hunter x Hunter's Nen. It is logical, consistent, each metal has strengths and weaknesses, it connects back to the worldbuilding, and I expect it to get deeper as the series goes on. Allomancy exposition was subtle, dense, and easy to understand. Feruchemy is a fascinating system and I am shocked at how it connected to the Lord Ruler.
The action: The Final Empire's action scenes remind me of an anime or a top-quality Western action cartoon. They were all fluid, tense, vivid, and Kelsier vs Inquisitor might be one of my favorite fights ever. For me, it is one of my main reasons it should be adapted into an animated series.
The worldbuilding: Scadrial has to be the best world I have seen since Gargoyles. From the gothic and ash-coated landscape of Luthadel, the hollow vibe of the mists, the persecution of the Terris people and skaa, the mystery and tragedy of the epigraphs, and Allomancy's connection to the Empire's structure. I never got bored learning about the Empire or the logbook. It helped me root for Kelsier's crew and desire the Lord Ruler's downfall, and drove me to learn about ancient Scadrial's mysteries.
The prose: It might have been simple, but sometimes simple is the best way. Sanderson's simple prose made The Final Empire's cluster of information easy to digest and memorize, and the fights very memorable.
THE SANDERLANCHE: Heard about this term in my previous Mistborn posts... OH MY GOOOOODDD!!!!! The Sanderlanche flipped my expectations at a 180 degree angle and shattered them with a pewter-enhanced obsidian axe. The glorious fights, the incomprehensible dread of the Lord Ruler, the simultaneous red herring and success of the Eleventh Metal, the twist with the Hero and the packman.... Not forgetting this anytime soon. I could gush about it all day.
Weaknesses:
The side characters: Kelsier's crew members were not bad. They were fun and I appreciate their love for Vin and Kell. But aside from Sazed, and Elend on the other side of the spectrum, they were not memorable. I hope the next book fleshes them out and gives them more relationships to bounce off of.
The noble balls: My problem with the balls is tied to the side characters. I understand the balls' importance, the setting's focus on Luthadel, and loved Vin's bond with Elend and her conflict with the Valette personality. But they often felt lackluster because there were no interesting noble characters except Elend, Straff, and Shan. The noblemen and women felt like a source of information and skaa oppressors, rather than characters with differing agendas or even opinions about the Empire.
Questions(oh boy):
What even is the Well of Ascension and the Deepness?
How and why do the Ashmounts and mist exist? The Hero's logbook didn't mention anything about ash, mist, or even Allomancy.
How the fuck is Rashek both a Feruchemist and an Allomancer????? HE BROKE THE RULES!!!
How is Rashek such a fucking strong Allomancer????? HE BROKE HIS CPU!! Maybe it's the millennia of experience...
WHY DID RASHEK TORTURE HIS OWN PEOPLE??????? He was a nationalist who loved his people, and then he treated the Terris like puppets 💔💔💔
How in the Survivor's name did Vin hack her CPU to break Allomantic rules as well????? That was a Deus ex Machina but I have an eerie feeling there's another secret.
Is there a deeper reason Vin can break the rules of Seeking?
Were the Lord Ruler's last words those of a jealous and desperate deposed despot, or those of a man trying to protect mankind? I vote the former lmao 😂😂
Theories:
The distant pulsing Vin sensed was the Well of Ascension.
Rashek spent his reign holding back the Deepness.
Rashek was the first Allomancer, and gifted his long-dead allies with the power of Allomancy. He used the mists as the medium to bestow Allomantic power, but did not create them.
The mists are sentient, and that's why the Deus ex Machina was possible.
The mist spirit is the ancestor of the mistwraiths and kandra.
Mistwraiths and kandra were not created from the Lord Ruler's rise to power.
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Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality
A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way. 
wc: 2,249
June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb). 
Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary). 
Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity. 
They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.
June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior. 
-------
Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood. 
Today, things seemed different. 
June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently. 
“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are. 
June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.
“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.
“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”
“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.
June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.
“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June. 
“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.” 
Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning. 
“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”
“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.
“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short. 
Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?” 
“Yes please.”
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Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees. 
As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in. 
“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”
June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.
“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”
“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.” 
“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.
“I’ll help.”
----
As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.
“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one. 
“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze. 
Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N,  or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages. 
“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.
“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic. 
Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”
June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing. 
She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?” 
“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”
“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.” 
At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun. 
“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.
“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”
“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”
“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support. 
“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears. 
“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”
After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”
“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered. 
June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”
“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything. 
“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”
“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.” 
__________ part 2
OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy. 
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faulty-writes · 3 years
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Alright, since all you lovely followers of mine seem to enjoy Rumi. I came up with this little idea. I hope you enjoy it.
The 5 Times Rumi Let You Touch Her Tail
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You will always remember the first time you touched Mirko's tail, you had originally just wanted her autograph. "Yeah yeah! Speak up there, kid! I don't got all day!" she replied as she stomped over to you, making you feel even smaller than you were. You somehow managed to stutter out what you wanted, but you didn't seem to be up to Mirko's standards.
"Ya gotta be more confident than that," she said with a snicker before reaching over to grasp your chin. Your heart sped up from both her touch and that smirk that played across her face. "But you have such a pretty face, I guess I can do you a damn favor," the chuckle that followed her words wasn't exactly comforting.
"What's your name!?" she demanded, causing you to flinch back. Yet again you managed to stutter out an answer, "I like 'pretty face' more, so that's what I'm gonna call ya from now on!" she snapped your autograph book closed before handing it back to you.
When she turned to walk away, you noticed that fluffy white tail of hers and desperately called out to her. Of course, you felt a little shy to ask her but somehow you managed and to your surprise, Mirko looked shocked or lost as to where the question of touching her tail came from.
"Well, pretty face got confidence that fast huh? I like that!" you cried out when she playfully punched your shoulder. But that was nothing compared to when she grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you close to her. "Do it then," she said, "show me what ya can do when you set out to do it pretty face," you wondered how long that nickname would last.
You hesitantly reached around the curve of her hip until you felt that soft fur brush against your fingertips. Your lips parted in awe as you slowly allowed your fingers to thread through her tail. It was soft and so very fluffy. Mirko seemed to enjoy the small bit of attention, however, it didn't last as long as you would have hoped.
"Getting a little too close to unleashing the real beast in me, pretty face," Mirko said, her tail twitching like mad due to your touch. "I'll see ya later, or maybe never," you frowned as you watched her jump from the pavement and into the air.
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You knew this world was dangerous, but you had never imagined getting caught in the middle of a villain attack. It seemed like it happened all at once. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but all you could remember is the explosions and bloodshed.
Luckily, much like they were trained to do. Several heroes came onto the scene and you got a front-row seat to see how they handled the villain. Threats being thrown back and forth before more blood spilled. You happened to be cradled up next to the fellow individuals who had the displeasure of being a part of this terrifying experience.
Then, she arrived. "Having fun without me!? Jeez, what the hell!?" her voice was unmistakable and you heard several gasps and cheers as Mirko flew through the air. Her silver hair flowing behind her and that same smirk you saw before was painted across her face. "I'll kick your ass, you hear me!?" it was strange how one person could give you so much hope.
Despite being covered in soot and minor injuries, you got lost in the moment watching Mirko dish out some punishment. Cracking the pavement with her powerful leg strength and confusing the villain with her speed. Watching them fall bit by bit until they were finally defeated and Mirko was left panting, sweating, and victorious.
"Hell yeah! Think you can actually mess with this rabbit hero?!" she seemed rather happy as the villain was dragged away and the search and comfort of the civilians began. Mirko seemed to spot you right away and offered you her hand, "Ya don't look too damn injured. Shake off your fear!" she instructed as she pulled you to your feet.
But even so, you couldn't help but continue to tremble which caused Mirko to grow confused. She wasn't the best person to provide comfort, "Hey aren't you the kid that wanted my autograph before!? Yeah...yeah pretty face, right!?" she questioned with a confident grin.
"I know what to do," she slowly turned and presented her tail. "Ya liked petting it, right?" she questioned. "Go on then, touch it," she said, almost like you were annoying her. But nonetheless, you did as she instructed and reached over to run your fingers through that soft fur once more.
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Normally if someone desired to be a hero, they would enroll into one of the many hero schools Japan offered, but due to selective pickings and strict classroom sizes, this wasn't always possible which meant many of those that wanted to be heroes never got the chance. But due to increased villain activity, your opportunity came.
That is Japan offered the chance for young adults to participate in an advanced hero course which would then permit them to be able to use a temporary hero license under the authority of a trusted pro hero.
"Pff," Mirko couldn't help but snort before her laughter broke through. It wasn't something you appreciated, but in a way, it was nice to see her smile. "Didja finally grow a spine there, pretty face!?" she questioned before slapping you on the back, sporting her famous smirk.
You were originally hesitant to tell her, mostly due to the fact that you were afraid she'd do exactly what she did. Laugh at you, but she didn't seem completely against the idea. But, she let you know her opinion nonetheless. "Guess ya aren't the wimpy wannabe I thought ya were! Don't expect any recommendation from me, but I give ya permission to kick some ass!"
While you were happy with her attempted vote of confidence, you found yourself being nervous yet again to ask Mirko the question that had been plaguing your mind. But she seemed to catch onto the fact that you wanted something. "Speak up!" she snapped. "Your pretty face doesn't look so pretty when you're confused," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
You were actually embarrassed to ask, but yet again you found yourself stuttering the question out. That is if you could pet her tail for good luck. Mirko seemed confused, "Ya got a tail petting fetish or something pretty face?!" she rolled her eyes before turning around, her tail wiggling from side to side.
"Just make it quick!" she said, though she was still wearing a smirk and you suspected it was due to the fact she somehow knew you were nervous. But nonetheless, you reached out and allowed your fingers to run through that soft fur for the third time. Who knows? Maybe it would bring you some well-deserved luck.
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Pro hero life was more than you thought it would be, it was part exciting and part terrifying. Between the praise and hatred, it was the best and worst of both worlds. Though you weren't high on the charts by any means, you were catching the attention of the existing pro heroes which included Mirko.
It started off as a simple invitation, "Hey there pretty face good job out there!" Mirko said as she yet again slapped you on the back. "I didn't think ya had the spine to back you up but turns out I was wrong," her words made you feel a little better, but you had never expected her to ask you what she did next.
Drinking wasn't normally something you did, and this would probably be the last time you experienced it. But you couldn't honestly turn down an invitation to drink with one of the top female heroes. So you accepted, but you should have known the consequences of going out in public with Mirko.
"Another round, damn it!" Mirko screamed as she slammed the shot glass back onto the counter, it was safe to say you were beyond tipsy at this point as you could only laugh at the rabbit hero's antics. You lazily draped your arm around her shoulders and repeated the order. By the end of the night, you were too intoxicated to remember the series of events that led to Mirko bringing you home.
But when you woke in the morning, it wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened. Your head was pulsing, painfully aching as a cruel reminder of your irresponsible actions. But what shocked you more was the fact you had woken up next to Mirko who still happened to be sleeping away peacefully.
How could you help yourself? You'd never try to purposely take advantage of anyone. But seeing the rabbit hero sprawled out on the bed, covered by nothing but a thin sheet was a sight most could only hope to see. However, you were more focused on that tail that peeked out from under the sheet. You just hoped you wouldn't wake her as you reached over to once again pet that tail.
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The news was a shock to the hero world, the previously known solo hero was engaged. Most thought it wouldn't happen, in fact, heroes almost never got the chance at their own happy ending due to their dedication to saving others. But, Mirko seemed to want to prove the world wrong.
You hadn't expected it, but throughout your hero career, Mirko and yourself had your special moments. Despite her own rule of avoiding love and not getting into any messy relationships. But somehow you were the exception, hell maybe you put a spell on her the first time you met, or maybe you were just special.
Either way, she found that she was growing overly attached to you. Making hasty decisions and she hated it. There had to be a way to solve this, to figure out how to rid herself of the constant worry she felt when you were away from her, and maybe most wouldn't think the solution would come in the form of a marriage proposal.
"Well!?" she snapped as she grabbed your hand, ready with the ring. Casting a glare your way, but you were a little too shocked to answer her. Though the ring was beautiful, painted a gold-white color with one jewel that was the same color as Mirko's eyes. Somehow, you stuttered out a reply and Mirko grinned as she pushed the ring onto your finger.
Despite the wedding feeling rushed, Mirko took care of most of the weight. Which included the invitations, wedding location, catering, and so on. She even insisted on paying for your wedding attire, though you were somewhat against the idea. It was hard to argue with your new fiancee.
Though Mirko looked beautiful on the day of your wedding, she neglected the traditional belief that seeing the bride before the wedding could bring bad luck. "Quit your damn worrying!" she snapped as she stood there in her wedding dress. The white fabric showing off her every curve.
But the best feature of her dress was the small cut out that allowed her tail to peek through, "Are ya ready to get this show on the road yet!? People are waitin'!" she exclaimed and you couldn't help but chuckle as you stepped close to her and placed your hand on the small of her back. Your fingers slowly reaching down to play with her tail yet again before you nodded.
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starbornvalkyrie · 4 years
Text
ACOSF USA BOOK TOUR NOTES
Hey y’all! I just attended the LiveTalks Los Angeles event with Sarah J Maas and Eva Chen!! I took lots of notes so I wanted to share them with you all! They’re a little incoherent on the page, so it might seem a crazy, they jumped topics a lot. Feel free to chat with me about what she talked about! But first.
MY RULES:
NO SHIP OR CHARACTER SLANDERING. I know that we all may have different opinions. I will not offer my opinions here, this is purely informational for those of you who did not have the opportunity to attend this event.
PLEASE NO ARGUING IN MY COMMENTS OR ASK BOX WITH ME OR ANYONE ELSE WHO COMMENTS
Acknowledge that I am not perfect and may not have written down everything perfectly. I did my best while still trying to enjoy the event.
I AM NOT SARAH J MAAS AND CANNOT INTERPRET WHAT SHE MEANS
I’m tagging this with #acosf spoilers and #acosfspoilers just in case.
If you understand and can abide by these rules, keep reading below the cut, and enjoy!
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SJM said it was weird doing this event from her living room where you might be able to hear her dog in the background or her son trying to get into the room.
ACOSF started as a passion project while she was writing ACOWAR! It was never anything she thought she was going to publish. (more on this later)
About reading and writing growing up
in middle school, she read a lot of fantasy
in high school, she didn’t read as much, but wrote A LOT. it became her fixation, almost an obsession.
in college, she only really wrote on vacations (she had a very healthy social life hehehe) but her junior year is when she found her balance between schoolwork, writing, and socializing.
there was no plan B for her!! it was always to be an author. if it didn’t happen right away, she was going to find a job that would get her by until plan A could come to be.
her favorite author growing up was Garth Nix. She longed for books about badass women. She got to meet him and write a blurb to be on one of his books! She cries when she meets her favorite authors.
Talk about character names!
her character names come from everywhere and nowhere
sometimes she’ll just hear a name in her head and think “that’s it!” (Rhys, for example)
she needs to know the name to write the character
if the name doesn’t immediately come to her, she spends a lot of her time on baby name websites and makes lists until it clicks
sometimes the names just... connect. sometimes she doesn’t mean for them to.
it will always be uncommon. never “Frank” lol
Writing about Nesta!
on a “surface level” she loves writing when Nesta comes out to fight. for example, her favorite scene in this aspect to write was the bog scene. As soon as she got to it, it flowed out of her. The final product was almost identical to the first draft. She wrote it in one session, from the terror & tread to the “who am i?” to when she emerged--she went YES. MAJOR Mic Drop moment for her.
going deeper: definitely her overall journey was one of the favorites she’s ever written. From the dark place she’s in at the beginning to the very end. 
Writing about Nesta meant so much to her because of her own mental health. She channeled a lot of her own feelings and went on the journey with Nesta.
it was a lot of “how do you face mental health in a fantasy world without therapy and medication”
it was easy to get into Nesta’s mind but emotionally intense.
ACOSF’S BIG MESSAGE: LEARNING TO LOVE YOURSELF AND OTHERS. YOU ARE WORTH OF LOVE.
YES there is a book planned for Elain!
As soon as Nesta and Elain came onto the page again in ACOMAF, she knew they’d get their own journey.
Nesta grabbed her by the throat in book 1
She was originally contracted for only the first three books but realized there was more she wanted to explore. Essentially the “what comes next” after ACOWAR in this new world with out the wall.
FUN FACT: while editing ACOMAF/writing ACOWAR, she drunkenly told her editor at the time, “hey guess what happens next?”, and it turned into a two hour conversation about everything she wants to happen for Nesta, Elain, Mor, Azriel, etc. TWO WEEKS LATER, she gets a call saying they want to buy the stories!! Obviously, she said yes.
This allowed her to start planting the Easter eggs for these stories in ACOWAR. She knew she did not want Nesta to be sympathetic at the beginning of the book! But she did not want people to hate her.
She always has one eye on the horizon for future books.
If she could visit one court for a day, which and why?
She LOVES the season Autumn, it’s her favorite. “BUT EVERYONE IN THE AUTUMN COURT IS AN ASSHOLE”. She would want to visit the Autumn Court when no one is there so she can enjoy the beauty of Autumn.
But also she would want to go to the Summer Court because she has a thing for Tarquin but only if it’s not gross and humid.
She would ALSO want to go to the Day Court for Helion and all his libraries.
ESSENTIALLY she would want to go everywhere but Spring because Tamlin sucks and is an asshole lmao.
BEAST FORMS
SJM’s beast form would be something totally not cool or majestic like a sea otter.
Nesta’s beast form would be something terrifying and beautiful like a snow leopard/dragon hybrid, a griffin, or a sphinx. **WANTS SOMEONE TO DRAW THIS**
FUN QUESTIONS
Nesta’s favorite smutty book would be JR Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series. She reads these books for the distraction, of course, but also for the comfort they gave her that everything turns out okay for the characters.
Nesta’s Starbucks order: cappuccino- something simple, nothing with too much sugar or whipped cream. Elain’s would be a Frappe- something delicious and sweet. SJM’s is a flat white, iced or not, but never after 2PM.
SJM usually listens to classical music and movie scores while she writes, but she’s gotten used to write in silence so that she can listen for her son’s shenanigans with Josh.
“Stay Together for the Kids” by Blink 182 semi-inspired the scene when Nesta and Cassian go back to her family’s cottage. She can hardly explain why.
WRITING ADVICE
Write what you love, not what you think you should be writing.
Give yourself permission to suck. Her first drafts are shit and are usually accompanied with an email that says “I know I need to fix this, this and that” lol.
WRITE THE DAMN THING. Vomit on the page!
YOU CAN’T FIX A BLANK PAGE.
Her least favorite part about the publishing process is the first pass of copy edits, those last minute checks and balances. But once it’s off to the printer, it’s not her problem anymore.
She’s every publisher’s worst nightmare because she sends it off to the printer at the LAST possible minute.
For reference: Throne of Glass was finished almost... a year and a half? ...before it hit shelves, but ACOSF was finished this past fall.
MAIN CHARACTER TALK
All of her heroines have a piece of her.
SJM’s personality is a hybrid of Bryce and Nesta.
Feyre and Nesta got most of her in terms of learning to be empowered.
She has to have a connection to them in order to write them. It’s an out of body, method acting experience.
MISCELLANEOUS
She said “CC2 is a year from now.”
She started writing ACOTAR in 2008 before she published TOG.
She loves the story and dynamic of Elizabeth and Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Cassian is Elizabeth. Nesta is Darcy.
And that’s all I have, folks! Thank you for reading, I hope you got something out of this!
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metvmorqhoses · 3 years
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Hey there! I'd like to hear your thoughts about this. Jkr never put a lot of thought into voldemort as a character did she? The fact that his villainy is oversimplified to be "conceived under a love potion and hence can't love" although there are instances where he has loved. The narrative that is put forth is that every child who was conceived through unhealthy relationships, abandoning parents and difficult circumstances is destined to be incapable of love. (There are problems/issues because of these circumstances but it's not a doomed-to-be-unloved situation)
The abuse he faced or the trauma was never explained and neither was his nature which can be either perceived as arrogance or as self-preservation in his formative years..
I love your blog and analyses btw!🖤
i couldn’t agree more. i don’t know if you are familiar with what i usually write about voldemort as a villain and as an all-around character, but what you are talking about is not only something i always mention when i discuss him in a more complex, adult manner, but much more importantly is deeply linked to what i think about the hp series in general and to the one, major issue i have with it in particular. this is something i consider very important and, honestly, a topic that is never stressed enough: jkr wrote an overly black and white children book, where oversimplification is the fundamental fabric of everything and i find it all very problematic, to say the least.
i understand the series started as a children book and that characterizing so generically and so stereotypically serves as a great advantage to sell copies, since virtually everyone can draw their own conclusions about pretty much every single character of the series and therefore identify, but hp more often than not proudly poses as a moral compass, as a good-vs-evil lecture, aiming to accompany children into adulthood hand in hand (both the books and the movies literally grow in tone, length, targeted audience and themes with the children who are consuming them), so it’s not unfair of me to be concerned about what exactly these morals have been teaching children and then teens (myself included) for more than twenty years about reality, even as a fantasy series.
i often say the characterizations of its heroes is the thing that scares me the most about the hp series. the entirely of the “good guys” in these books lack basic normal human reactions. they all went through hell one way or another, harry constantly witnessing every last one of his family relations dying/growing up abused and hated/discovering he was raised literally to be slaughtered by the man he looked up to the most, ginny being possessed/forced to kill/almost murdered in tender age by the literal devil and whose trauma is never mentioned again, hermione having to erase the memories of her parents - you know, the list goes on and on. the one thing that all of them have in common tho, is their non-consequence to horror. and that’s wildly unhuman. aside from a little sadness, some stubborn dementors chasing bad memories and sporadic plot-serving nightmares, none of the heroes is really effected or damaged by what happens to them. when normal people would have spiritual crisis, ptsd, depression, manic episodes, you name it, jkr is feeding us the idea that really good, brave, strong, valuable people remain unaffected by trauma and that only the weak, wrong, damaged and therefore evil ones are. and i find it beyond disturbing.
paradoxically enough, voldemort is the only prominent example (probably along with snape and draco, but in a very different way) of “normal” human behavior when a child is exposed that much to trauma and abuse in tender age. jkr never really explains voldermort beyond her rhetorical “he’s wickedness personified” motto, yet the little characterization she gave him is entirely built around trauma - a trauma that she openly equates to evil. voldemort is a child born out of rape (there’s a metaphorical love potion and therefore he’s unable to love - leaving aside the idiocy of it, how sick is that? as if a child should carry the faults of his parents, as if all children born from rape were emotionally disabled or soon to be psychopaths! what exactly she wanted to prove with this point will forever be beyond me), a child abandoned to abuse and poverty in the middle of ww2, a child i’m sure shunned for his magical powers if not worse, a child without a single resource on the planet but himself, a child to whom no one, ever, not even later in the wizarding world, ever gave a helping hand or genuine affection (he was literally sent back to a world war because “no one can live in the school in the summer”, i mean!). of course he had to react to survive, of course all that left him scarred, because it didn’t leave him annihiliated! tom and harry share the condition of the orphan, but while harry was loved by his dead parents, glorified and rich and adored, voldemort was unwanted, discriminated against, bullied, poor and ignored. had dumbledore treated tom as he had treated harry (not that he treated harry that well if we really analyze it, but still), had his mother not abandoned him and died, jkr herself said lord voldemort would have probably never existed.
is this a correct way to stereotype human nature? is this a good message to give children? the only plausible human in there is the psychopathic super villain who is physically unable to love?
i like to think voldermort differently. i do think he could, of couse he could, actually love - as we all can if we allow ourselves to. he’s too complex, too intelligent, too whole as a character to lack anything, both for the good and for the bad. i like to think that maybe amortentia (aka the entirety of his early life experiences) left him dissociated and unable to *understand* his feelings in general and love in particular. maybe he didn’t dare to love anyone. maybe he dared once.
i like to think this way because the way jkr characterizes is nothing short of a disgrace.
the question people ask me the most is precisely this, if i think i’m giving voldemort much more depth than the author actually intended in the first place. my answer is always the same - yes, of course i do. voldemort is beautiful the way i imagine him, as a real plausible person, as a deeply flawed and multifaceted and scarred human being who turned to darkness in search for a home and a reason and that had ultimately found one, as terrible as it was. he certainly deserved more, from a literary point of view. yet i understand it was convenient and safe for jkr to only ever play with his godly, evil, black and white facade.
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wayward-dreamer · 4 years
Text
Life’s Lessons - Part 15
Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Finding the One
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader
Word Count: 8,857 (texts, thoughts, song lyrics in italics)
Part Summary: Dean and Y/N find themselves so busy in the following weeks, that things blow out of proportion and they spend the night apart. Feeling awful about it the next day, they plan to apologise to each other but something unexpected stops them from that. Later, Dean and Y/N share a tearful apology, after the experience of nearly losing each other makes them realise what is truly important.
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fighting, Hurtful words, Doubts, Insecurities, Guilt, Tears, Hurt!Dean (don’t hate me, it’s not for long), Hospital, Tears, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Oral sex (Female receiving), Dirty talk, Vaginal Fingering, Brief handjob, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), A whole bunch of fluff.
Music: Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks & Don Henley (Y/N driving home scene), Do I Move You by Briana Buckmaster (Dean and Y/N date night scene), Ramble On by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N end scene)
Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist
A/N: Well, this is it. The last chapter. I can’t believe it. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love for this series. I’m so grateful for each of you; every single one. You’re all the best. Epilogue will post next week, but happy reading and enjoy the final chapter! :)
Life’s Lessons Masterlist
Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!
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Two more weeks passed that were incredibly busy for both Y/N and Dean.
Dean had been swamped between the old and new sites, trying to fix up people’s cars at the old and then working with Benny on the car that had come in for restoration at the old site, but they moved it to the new. They had gotten this big job a few months ago, and had started then but moving it over to the new site had been a good decision as everything was more open and had more room to move around. They had so many people calling in with every model of car Dean had ever heard of, in different states and different forms of restoration that needed to be done. There were only so many they could book, and had to eventually tell people they couldn’t take any more for the next few months.
He had been coming home later and later, and barely had time to even kiss Y/N let alone do anything else. He really couldn’t wait until they hired a few more people and he could finally go back to his regular hours. They were in the middle of the hiring process too; yet another reason they had been so busy.
Y/N had a lot going on at school as well. There had big tests she had given her students in both grades and had a lot of grading to do. While that was happening, she also had to plan lessons for the new content they had to cover, while also taking on a few tutoring duties after school for the kids that really needed help, in order to get to the high school level by September.
She had been coming home later than usual, but then she would cook and leave something for Dean to eat so that when he came back late, he wouldn’t come to bed absolutely starving. She had barely seen him, always falling asleep before he got home because she was so exhausted herself.
She really hoped things would slow down soon for both of them so that they could have more time together.
Y/N was in the middle of grading tests when she heard the front door open and close, and then Dean’s boots in the hallway. She usually did her work in her office at her own house but considering she had just made a quick and easy pasta for dinner over at Dean’s, she decided to sit at the dining table after eating and grade the papers there.
“Hey, sweetheart” Dean muttered as he saw her, sounding completely wrecked.
She looked up at him, offering a small smile. “Hey. Food’s still hot, so eat up.” She went back to her grading as she heard him wash up and then sat down with his food, across from her at the table.
“How was your day?” he asked, taking a bite and looking at her.
“Busy” she replied, not looking up from the tests in front of her. She pushed her glasses up as they slid down her nose but made no move to look up at him.
Dean frowned as he saw her so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even look at him. He really wanted to take a few minutes to just be with her, considering they had barely talked in the last two weeks.
“Y/N, can’t you put that away for a while?” he asked, trying not to sound too frustrated.
“No, I can’t, Dean. This is important; I’ve been so behind with grading, and the kids are really getting antsy about their scores” she replied, shaking her head as she continued to look down.
“Sweetheart… we’ve barely seen each other. You can finish that in the morning too” he countered.
“I’m almost done, Dean. Please, just… let me finish. You can keep talking, I’m listening, okay?” She was irritable and really hoped he wouldn’t push any further.
“Yeah. Okay” he mumbled as he continued to eat. “Maybe… maybe we can go out on Friday night. God knows we haven’t been out, just us, in a long time.”
“We really don’t have to” she said, quickly glancing at him before continuing her work.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be good, we can finally relax” he said, smiling slightly, hoping she’d look up at him and actually agree.
She scoffed as she shook her head. “Yeah, and then you can leave me in the morning like you always do for your top-secret mission.”
An eerie silence fell in the house as Dean stopped eating. He put his fork down slowly as he looked at her. He kept calm as he thought about how to broach this.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, calmly even though he was a little annoyed.
She finally looked up at him with her glasses on, and if it was any other day, Dean would’ve found it incredibly hot rather than scary. “It means that there’s no point in us going out on Friday night if you’re just going to leave the next morning and then not tell me what you’re up to.”
“Y/N, I need you to trust me, okay? I’ll tell you soon, I promise” he tried to reassure her, hoping she’d understand. “It’s something for us, for our future and I just want things to be perfect.”
“But do you really have to be away every Saturday? I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to think is going on, Dean? You’ve been busy during the week, the least you could do is spend some time with me on the weekend, but no! You keep leaving at the earliest possible hour and you come back late at night!” she said, glaring at him as her voice raised slightly. She got up quickly, the chair scraping harshly against the floors.
“You’re not supposed to think anything, Y/N” he snapped. “You’re supposed to trust me, that’s it.”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to do that when you’re never here” she scoffed as she walked away from the table and into the kitchen. Dean shook his head, following behind her.
“I’m not the only one who hasn’t been here” he threw back at her.
She laughed bitterly, and Dean felt his stomach turn at the sound.
“Really? Then what is all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the food on the stove. “I’m here every day, making sure you have what you need when you get back at god knows what time of night!”
“That maybe so, sweetheart… but that” he said, gesturing to the table with the tests on it. “That’s when you’re not here! I try to talk to you and you’re always so lost in what you’re doing, you can’t even hear me!” Dean yelled.
“Fine, then let me make it easier for you” she hissed, as she walked to the table and gathered up all the tests. She shoved them into her handbag, picked up her coat and put it on over her oversized sweater, to keep her exposed legs warm.
“Y/N stop” Dean said, shaking his head. “Please, stop.”
That was not going well at all and he felt horrible for even bothering her while she had been working. She was working. It’s not like she was ignoring him on purpose.
“For the record, this is my job” she snapped at him as she turned around. “And you holding it against me is something I’m not going to stand for.”
“Y/N, wait-” he started but she walked out the door so quickly, slamming the door behind her, he barely had time to register it.
He had the first thought of following her, but the second thought of knowing she needed space, stopped him. That was the first time they had fought, and it was bad. He had blamed her work for the reason she was distant, but it was the fact that he was keeping something from her that caused her to be so upset. Plus, all these days apart hadn’t helped them in their relationship.
He knew he had to fix this and soon. He just hoped he hadn’t royally screwed up.
That night after Y/N finally finished grading the tests, she angrily washed her face before putting on her pyjamas and getting into bed. She glared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, shaking her head. He was the one who was hiding something and then blaming her for being distant because of her work. She had to distract herself from thoughts and insecurities about what might be happening, with her work. He had some nerve to blame her for this.
Though… she hadn’t exactly helped by saying that he was never there. Yes, it was sort of true, but she knew how hard he was working at the new garage, while also trying to keep things up and running at the old one. She knew he loved his work so much and she never wanted him to think she would be angry at him because of it. She really hoped he wasn’t thinking that.
She knew she needed to sleep on it and figure it out the next day. She just hoped she could.
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It had been a restless night for Dean. Not sleeping next to Y/N was definitely the biggest factor of that, but their fight had been playing on his mind all night too. He woke up to go to work and was yet to see her that day.
He hated that he brought her job into their argument. She was great at what she did, she was passionate, and she always supported him, so he had to support her too. He hated that for a minute back there he used it against her. He knew as soon as he got home, he had to speak to her. One night without her next him was enough to scare him. He never wanted to be without her, even for one night.
Dean: I hated not having you next to me last night. I’m clocking out early today, we have to talk, sweetheart. I’m so sorry about what I said. I love you.
He had sent her a message during the day and he just hoped that she would want to actually talk to him when she got home. He was going to make it a point to be home before her, so that she knew he was serious about this. He needed her to know that.
He was glad that work was a good distraction at that point. It was the middle of the day, he had a few hours left of work, and he had to tow someone’s car back to the garage. Hopefully he could continue to distract himself for the next few hours, until he returned home and dealt with the aftermath of the night before.
As he drove back to the garage, he stopped at a light and thought about what he was going to say to Y/N when she got home. He was scared and didn’t know if he would just end up ruining everything more than he already had. He couldn’t lose her. Not now, not ever. He really had to think carefully about what to say.
As the light turned green, Dean moved the tow truck forward, ready to head back to the garage. However, he didn’t have time to react as another car ran a red light and hit the tow truck on the passenger side, sending it screeching along the road a few feet away.
The last thing on Dean’s mind as he blacked out was Y/N.
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The night had not been restful for Y/N either.
She was embarrassed about how she had reacted. She shouldn’t have doubted Dean and what he was doing. She always said she would trust him and now she made him doubt whether she did or not. She did. She completely and unconditionally did, but she did have her fears about what he was doing. If he couldn’t tell her, then clearly something was wrong. Or maybe nothing was wrong, and she was just a bitch for overreacting.
She was glad when she got a message from him saying he’d be home early. She knew they needed to talk before things got worse.
Y/N: Okay. I’m so sorry too. I do trust you, Dean. You have to know that I do. We’ll talk when I get home. I love you, so much.
She had spent nearly the whole day at work with this at the back of her mind. She was so distracted at work and everyone could tell that something was wrong. Some of the teachers had asked her if she was okay when she was in the staff room, but she just played it off like she didn’t get a lot of sleep. However, when Charlie asked when they went to the staff bathroom before their next classes, Y/N told her everything.
“I made a mess of everything, Charlie” she said, shaking her head as she leaned her hands on the sink.
Charlie shook her head, as she rubbed her hand up and down Y/N’s back. “No, you didn’t. Do you guys need to talk about it? Yes, of course, but you haven’t made a mess.”
“But I’ve made him doubt my trust in him. I don’t want him to think I don’t trust him” Y/N choked out, trying to keep her emotions at bay.
“No, you haven’t made him doubt anything, Y/N. He loves you, and he knows you love him, trust him. You just have to talk it out. He’s going to be the one to tell you everything, but all I’m going to say is that it’s a good thing; what he’s waiting to tell you. I promise” Charlie reassured her, smiling at her, softly.
“It’s going to make me feel even worse, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, frowning.
Charlie wasn’t going to say anything, but when Y/N lifted an eyebrow, she sighed. “Yeah.”
“Great” Y/N shook her head, closing her eyes.
“But it’s also going to make you feel really good, really excited, and that’s it. That’s all I’m going to say” Charlie said, trying not to smile as she thought about it.
“Okay” Y/N nodded.
The next class went on and on, as she taught the kids and distracted herself. She was incredibly glad when that bell rang at the end of the day and she could finally get home. She didn’t say her goodbyes to anyone, just picked up her bags and lunch that she couldn’t finish because she didn’t have the stomach for it and left the school.
As she drove home, she could feel her heart beating wildly as she thought about Dean coming home and what she was going to say to him. She had to fix this and promise him that she would never doubt him ever again. She loved him and she trusted him; she needed him to really know that.
As she drove, a soft melody started on the radio and she instantly knew what song it was.
Is love so fragile
And the heart so hollow
Shatter with words
Impossible to follow
You’re saying I’m fragile I try not to be
I search only for something that I can’t see
I have my own life and I am stronger
Than you know
But I carry this feeling
When you walked into my house
That you won’t be walking out the door
Still I carry this feeling
When you walked into my house
That you won’t be walking out the door
Y/N felt the tears in her eyes stream down her cheeks as she finally let out the emotions of what happened. All she could think about was how she did walk out the night before, and how she regretted it instantly but made no move to turn around and go back to him. How could she do that?
Lovers forever face to face
My city your mountains
Stay with me stay
I need you to love me
I need you today
Give to me your leather
Take from me my lace
The song hit too close to what she was feeling, and she flicked the button, turning the radio off. She was almost home, anyway.
She wiped her eyes as she turned down their street, speeding up to reach the house quicker. She parked in her driveway but frowned when she didn’t see the Impala parked at Dean’s. Maybe he was still on his way home.
Suddenly, her phone rang and she picked it up, frowning when she saw ‘Sam’ instead of ‘Dean’. She thought maybe he would call and tell her he was on his way, but as she picked up the phone, that thought was quickly replaced with worry when she heard Sam’s frantic voice.
“Y/N! Where are you right now?” he asked, his breath short as he sounded like he was rushing around, and he sounded scared.
“I just got home… Sam, what’s wrong?” she asked in return, feeling her throat constricting as fear gripped her heart.
“The hospital just called me, they said Dean’s been in an accident. I’m on my way but if you can get there before me-” he replied, but she cut him off as she turned her car back on.
“I’m leaving now!” she yelled as she hung up and pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road towards the hospital.
She tried not to let the worst possible thoughts enter her mind, but that was hard to do when it was one thought after another, constantly. She felt like she couldn’t breathe; like her throat was closed and she couldn’t even gasp for breath. She frantically pulled into an empty spot in the hospital parking, grabbed her bag and rushed towards the entrance. She went to the desk and tried to find her voice as the nurse behind the desk looked at her.
“I’m here to see Dean Winchester, he was brought in” she said through short breaths, as she tried to calm herself down.
“Are you his emergency contact?” the nurse asked, as she started clicking the mouse and typing something on the computer in front of her.
“N-no, I-I’m not, but his brother is on his way-” Y/N started but the nurse shook her head, sternly.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t tell you anything without Mr. Winchester’s next of kin here” she said, looking between Y/N and the screen.
“No, please, I have to know if he’s okay” Y/N shook her head, frantically, trying to reason with her. “Please, you have to tell me.”
“He’s with the doctors right now, but that’s all I can say. I’m sorry” the nurse said, giving her one bit of information she was allowed to give, which wasn’t very telling about Dean’s condition.
Y/N stepped back from the desk, letting out a sob she had been holding back as she drove over there. She cradled her head in her hands, letting the last several hours wash over her as she descended into silent tears, in the middle of the waiting area. Something could be seriously wrong, and she wasn’t allowed to know until Sam got there. She could lose Dean and the last thing that ever happened between them would’ve been that stupid fight. She felt the guilt settle in as she continued to cry quietly, trying to be positive but failing.
“Y/N!” she heard someone yell. She looked up and walked over to Sam as he rushed towards her, dressed in a suit. He had clearly rushed straight out from work.
“Sam!” she launched herself into him, hugging him tightly. “They won’t tell me anything, they said you had to be here.”
“Okay, it’s okay, come with me” Sam was being as calm as he could be, holding her hand in his as he walked over to the desk.
“I’m Sam, Dean Winchester’s brother” he told the nurse. “Please tell us what’s going on.”
“Dean was brought in after a car collided with his tow truck at an intersection. The doctors are with him but let me get an update for you” the nurse informed them and picked up the phone.
“Alright, thank you” Sam said, as he stepped away and sat down on a chair. Y/N sat next to him; their hands still clasped.
“Sam… what if he’s-” she started but stopped, unable to even say the words.
“He’s not” Sam shook his head, but he wasn’t sure whether it was out of conviction or denial. “He can’t be.”
“I fucked up, Sam” she whispered, as tears fell down her face.
He looked confused as he looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“W-we had a s-stupid fight yesterday, and I stormed out… and-and I-I slept at my house” she stuttered, not being able to say anything properly. “And now he… he’s here. If something happened-”
Sam turned to her, gripping her shoulders to make her look at him. “Nothing happened, Y/N. Dean’s going to be just fine, I feel it. And you didn’t fuck up. You and Dean will work it out. It’ll be okay, Y/N. I know it will” he reassured her, as he pulled her into a hug. She nodded against him, not trusting her voice anymore.
“Mr. Winchester” the nurse from before gestured to them, and they got up quickly.
“Yes?” Sam said, taking Y/N’s hand again. She felt like she was about throw up as she waited for the nurse to talk.
“Dean has a mild concussion, a cut on his forehead that the doctors sutured and bandaged. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation but he’s going to be okay” she explained, a soft smile on her face.
Y/N let out a harsh breath as she sobbed, hugging Sam tightly when he pulled her in.
“Can we see him?” Sam asked.
“Yes, he’s in room 302, 5th floor” she replied, checking the room and telling them.
“Thank you” Sam said, as Y/N picked up her bag from where she had been sitting and joined Sam at the elevator.
Y/N and Sam rode the elevator up to the floor and found the room, but Sam stood back as Y/N walked to the door. She frowned as he stood behind her, a small smile on his face.
“You should go in first” he said.
“Sam, he’s your brother-” she started but he stopped her as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I know how scared you were when they couldn’t tell you anything. You need this, Y/N” he smiled softly at her. “I’ll be in soon.”
“Okay. Thanks” she said, reaching up high on the toes of her shoes and kissing his cheek.
Y/N turned the door handle and opened the door, feeling like the wind was knocked out of her all over again. Dean was asleep on the hospital bed, looking small in the big, bare room sparse of any color. The monitors beeped at a normal pace as she walked in and stood near the bed. She took in his face, a white bandage on his forehead, some small cuts and scrapes on his cheeks and hands as her eyes travelled down his body. She felt tears roll down her cheeks as she sat down on the chair next to the bed. She curled her hand around his, sniffling as she watched him.
“Dean” she called out, softly. “It’s Y/N. I’m here.”
She saw his eyes moving under his lids, as he slowly started to blink them open, flinching at the stark light of the room. Dean’s head felt heavy as he looked around the room, his eyes finally landing on Y/N. She smiled at him through tears and he felt his heart soaring as he saw her there, in the room. She was there. He was there and he was alive.
“Y/N” he croaked, trying to smile at her.
“Shhh, don’t talk” she whispered as she took the plastic cup of water from his table and placed the straw to his mouth. “Here, slow sips.”
He took a few sips of water and gulped it down, looking at her as she put the cup down. He gripped her hand in his.
“You’re here” he whispered as he looked at her.
“Of course I am” she said, softly as she leaned down and kissed his hand. “Did you think… did you think I wouldn’t be?” she asked, scared of the answer.
“I… I would’ve deserved it” he said, coughing slightly. “For what I said to you-” he started but she gripped his hand, shaking her head.
“It’s okay, Dean” she whispered, not wanting to think about that anymore. It was stupid in comparison to what happened.
“No, I shouldn’t have brought your job into it, Y/N. I’m sorry” he said, groggily as he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, too. For doubting you… for thinking you were being dishonest about something” she apologized, kissing his hand again.
“I promise I’m going to tell you… I just… I wanted it to be a surprise. And… I promise I won’t ever say you’re never here. We’ve just been busy, but we’ll make time. And I promise I won’t ever bring your work into an argument” he said, shifting a little so he was sitting up a bit more. She tried to stop him, but he was adamant on being to look at her properly and apologize.
“I promise I won’t ever doubt you again, or be angry about you working late. I know you’re doing it for a reason” she said, gripping his hand tighter.
“Come here” he smiled softly, as he tugged on her hand. She smiled in return and got up, sitting on the bed next to him. She leaned over as he lifted his other hand, pulling her in for soft, slow kiss.
She sniffled as she pulled away, more tears rolling down her face. “I hate that the fight could’ve been the last thing you remembered of me. I could’ve lost you today. And… they wouldn’t tell me anything until Sam got here-”
“Damn” he mumbled, shaking his head. “We’ll fix that tomorrow.”
“I was so scared” she cried, as she leaned into him, her tears beginning to stain his hospital gown.
“Me too” he admitted, as he pulled her in tighter. “I saw you before it all went dark. I saw…” he trailed off, not being able to tell her as her sadness got to him, a few tears rolling down his cheeks, too.
“I love you” she choked out, as she looked at him. He leaned in, kissing her harder than before, their desperation to be close getting to them.
“I love you, too” he muttered against her lips as he kept kissing her. “And for the record… there’s plenty of things I’d remember about you before that fight.”
She smiled at him as she moved forward, kissing him again, not wanting to stop.
“Oh, sorry” they both turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, his timing way off as he walked in on the emotional moment.
“Hey, Sammy” Dean said, as he continued to hold Y/N close.
“Hey” Sam said, sighing in relief as he saw his older brother looking alright for the most part. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah” Dean nodded, as he leaned his head against Y/N’s.
Sam and Y/N both stayed until visiting hours were over, as they weren’t allowed to stay overnight. She didn’t want to be apart from him for another night, but Dean told her it would be okay. Sam had already called Benny and told him what happened, telling him that Dean wouldn’t be at work tomorrow. Y/N had made the decision that she would take work off the next day and take care of Dean.
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Y/N picked Dean up the next morning, filling out his discharge forms, adding her name and contact information to his contact list, before driving him home. For the rest of the day, it was like she was still at school as she told Dean to relax and to give it a day before he started doing things again. By the end of the day, he was so tired that he was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The following day, he was feeling much better and went to work for light duties, as Y/N also went back to work. When they got home, they relaxed and had a simple dinner, just spending time together that they hadn’t gotten to do in the weeks before.
Before they knew it, Friday rolled around. Dean was a hundred precent by then, and ready to take Y/N out that night. She had insisted they stay home but he had insisted harder that he was absolutely fine and ready to take her out for a much-needed date night.
Dressed in a gold, satin, strappy top and a black leather skirt that came to just at her knees, Y/N put on her black coat and black heels as Dean greeted her at the door. He was wearing a deep red, V-neck sweater and looks so gorgeous that she couldn’t think about anything other than ripping it off him.
Dean drove them into the city, feeling surprisingly okay about driving after the accident. He told her that had things been much worse, maybe he wouldn’t have bounced back to driving so quickly. He drove through the streets, parking in one of the side streets. They had a quick dinner at one of their favorite spots before Dean payed and then took her to where he really wanted to. They walked down the street, clinging to each other as the chill of the air blew around them. Dean led the way to where he was taking her.
Y/N smiled as she saw that he had brought her to a jazz club, walking through the velvet curtain and being brought to their booth table. The band was already on fire, a blonde woman singing her lungs out with a husky, whiskey touched voice that was electric. The lights were dimmed, a candle on each table adding to the glow. Y/N sipped her wine as Dean sipped his whiskey.
“This place is great” she said, smiling at him as she swayed to the music.
“I thought you’d like it” he smirked. “Think of it as an apology.”
“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for, not anymore” she shook her head, cupping his face. “It’s in the past.”
“Okay” he nodded. He looked into her eyes, smiling brighter. “God, you’re so damn beautiful.”
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at his complement. “Dean.”
“Don’t ‘Dean’ me, sweetheart. It’s true. I know how lucky I am to have you. Especially after what happened. It… it could’ve ended so differently” he grimaced, as he remembered the day of the accident.
“I know” she nodded, but then shook her head. “Let’s not think about it.”
“You’re right” he agreed, as he leaned over and kissed her, quickly deepening the kiss.
“Alright, this next one’s for all the lovers in the house” the woman on stage announced. “Feel free to join the floor.”
A sexy, slow beat of the piano and bass started, as Y/N watched a few couples get up and move in close to each other. Suddenly, Dean stood up and smirked at her, offering his hand.
“Dean, no” she laughed, shaking her head.
“Come on, sweetheart” he said, wiggling his fingers. She bit her lip and stood up, taking his hand in hers. Dean led them over to the floor, and pulled her in close, his arms around her waist, close to her behind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at him.
Do I move you?
Are you willing?
Do I groove you?
Is it thrilling?
Do I soothe you?
Tell the truth now
Do I move you?
Are you loose now?
The answer better be
That pleases me
Dean swayed him and Y/N side to side to the beat, looking into her eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers, pulling her in closer.
Are you ready
For this action
Does it give you
Satisfaction
Are you hip to what I’m saying?
If you are now
Then let’s start swaying
The answer better be
That pleases me
When I touch ya
Do you quiver?
From your head
Right down to your liver
Dean’s hand moved up her back, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder blades, causing Y/N to shiver as she bit her lip and looked him in the eyes.
If you like it
Let me know it
Don’t be psychic
Or you’ll blow it
The answer better be
That pleases me
Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She cupped his face, holding him there, before he pulled away and winked at her.
“Let’s get outta here” he whispered into her ear, taking her hand in his and quickly leading her out, after paying for their drinks.
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Dean and Y/N burst through the door of Dean’s house, lips pressed against each other’s as they pushed and pulled at each other’s clothes. It had been far too long since they had been together in this way, and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“Get this off” she whispered against his lips as she tugged at his sweater. Dean pulled it up and his arms through it, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He reached around her and unzipped her skirt, watching her push it down and strip her top off too, leaving her in a black strapless bra and matching panties, thigh-high stockings and garter belt holding them up.
Dean picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, dropping her gently on the bed. He smirked down at her as he breathed heavily, leaning down on top of her as he kissed her jaw, neck and travelled down her body. He kissed her breasts, licked a path down her torso and stomach, as he reached down and pulled her thong to one side, inserting two fingers into her already wet heat.
She moaned loudly, smiling as she felt the pads of his fingers rub along her walls. “Just like that, fuck. Dean.”
“I can’t wait to fuck you, sweetheart” he mumbled against her skin. “It’s been too fucking long.”
“I can’t wait, either” she gasped, as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, throwing her head back with a moan as he hit her g-spot with precision.
He moved his head down, his mouth finding her clit as his tongue swirled around the little bud. He moaned at the taste of her, not having done this in a while.
“Fuck, you taste so good, Y/N. Your pussy feels so great wrapped around my fingers” he groaned against her mound.
“Dean” she said, trying to reach for him impatiently. “Fuck me. Please.”
He chuckled as he moved away from her, looking down at her. “So desperate for my cock, huh?”
She whined frustratedly as she grabbed his hand gently and moved it away from her, his fingers covered in her slick. She sat up as he kneeled over her, unbuckling the belt and unzipping his dark wash jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping it up and down along the hard shaft.
“Fuck” he grunted, feeling her hand against him. He leaned forward and kicked off his boots, taking off his jeans and boxers. Once he returned to the bed, he smirked as Y/N pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. She held his hard cock to her entrance and sunk down on him, letting out a long, loud moan as she felt him completely seated inside her.
“Fuck yeah” he muttered as he held onto her hips and looked up at her, looking so damn beautiful in that moment. Her eyes closed as she adjusted to him, her hair flowing down, her mouth hanging open. “Ride me, sweetheart.”
She planted her hands on his chest, using him as leverage to move her hips up and down, feeling his cock against every ridge inside her as she set a moderate pace.
“Dean… fuck! You feel so good” she moaned, wantonly as she looked down at him. She rolled her hips back and forth, as his lifted up to meet hers. On each thrust down, she circled her hips, causing Dean to throw his head back, his neck straining, veins popping against his skin.
“Fuck yes! Do that again, sweetheart. You know how much I love it when you do that” he told her. It was his favorite move of hers, that drove him wild every time.
She smiled with a naughty wink, doing it again. “You like that, baby?”
“Yeah, fuck yeah. I love it so much, Y/N. Love it so much” he rambled, not being able to concentrate on anything but the feel of her.
She hummed as she bit her lip. “I love it, too. I love the way your cock feels inside me, fucking me so good, so deep. No one’s ever fucked me the way you do.”
Dean let out a strangled groan as she began to bounce on top of him, tossing her head back as she let out a string of loud moans.
“And no one else ever will, right sweetheart?” he asked, gripping her hips tighter, as her ass slapped against his thighs.
“No one, Dean. No one” she shook her head as she unclasped her bra, tossing it aside before grabbing her breasts and tweaking her nipples between her fingers.
“You’re mine, aren’t you, Y/N?” he smirked up at her. She looked down at him and nodded, frantically.
“Yeah, I’m yours” she replied, looking into his eyes. “Only yours. I love you. I love you, so much.”
“I love you, too” he said, taking her hands off her breasts and curling their fingers together. Her thrusts became faster, as she continued to grind against him. She was close and so was he.
“Dean, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” she said, feeling the coil in her belly begin to tighten.
“Cum with me, Y/N. Fucking soak my cock” he growled, as he drove his hips up harder on the last few thrusts.
“Fuck! Oh fuck, Dean! I’m cumming!” she screamed, as her body shook and the coil snapped, her eyes closing tightly. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her and didn’t seem to stop at all as her juices flowed out of her and over his cock.
“Shit, Y/N! Oh fuck, yes!” he shouted into the privacy of the room, his cum shooting into her as his own climax hit.
Y/N breathed heavily as she rolled off him, landing on her back on the mattress. She moved her hands up and down her body, feeling it wet with her own sweat. Her hand moved down to her pussy, smiling as she felt his cum dripping out of her. She closed her legs, wanting to leave it there within her as she looked over at him, seeing him smirking at her.
“That was fucking incredible” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.
She nodded, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. He saw her and smiled, standing up on shaky legs and walking into the bathroom.
Dean came back with a wet washcloth and sat down next to Y/N. He parted her legs, swiping the cloth against her folds, the warm water cleaning her up. She looked up at him with a smile as her eyes continued to open and close. He cleaned himself as well and tossed the cloth in the hamper of dirty clothes, before returning. He smiled softly as he saw that she had fallen asleep, as he moved the covers over her and got in next to her, pulling her close.
Y/N looked up at Dean, smiling softly as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. She looked at him, taking in his green eyes, sharp nose and freckles scattered across it and his cheeks.
“You okay?” he asked, softly.
“Yeah” she replied, nodding. “Just thinking.”
“About?” he wondered; his voice gravelly as he lowered it.
“About… the accident” she said, feeling tears prick at her eyes. “I…”
She shook her head, burying her face in his neck, her body shaking as she began to cry. Dean held her close, whispering soft words to her.
“Sweetheart, I’m okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere” he told her, reassuring her that everything was fine. He knew she had been keeping a brave face after the hospital, and she finally let it all out.
“I don’t want to be without you” she sobbed. “What would I do without you?”
“You won’t ever find out, Y/N. I swear it” he promised, cupping her face and making her look at him. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”
She nodded as she wiped her eyes, feeling emotionally exhausted. She leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing deeply as she tried to calm herself down. As her breathing slowed, she closed her eyes, letting sleep take over her.
Dean closed his eyes only once he knew she was safe and asleep, sleep quickly finding him, too.
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Light filtered through the window into the room, hitting the face of the woman sleeping, wrapped in the sheets. Y/N sighed softly, her eyelids blinking. She slowly opened them, smiling as she felt the warmth of the sun against her face. She frowned however, when the space next to her on the bed was empty, the sheets cold. As she sat up and held the sheet against her body, the smell of fresh coffee and bacon hit her nose, making her stomach growl from hunger.
Y/N dropped the sheet and picked up Dean’s t-shirt from the chair, slipping it over her body, covering her up to above her knees as it hung off her body. She walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway, the floors warm as Dean must’ve turned the thermostat up. She smiled as she saw him standing at the stove, in only his boxers as he flipped the bacon. His hair was sticking up in different directions and he looked absolutely adorable. She walked over and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she leaned in, pressing her lips against his spine between his shoulder blades.
“Morning” she said, kissing him in that spot.
“Morning” he smirked, as he pulled her to stand in front of him. He leaned in, kissing her softly. “So… I have some plans for us today, if you’re not busy.”
“I’m free as a bird” she said, smiling up at him.
“Great” he smirked, as he took the bacon off the pan. “I’m taking you to see my secret Saturday mission.”
She looked up at him, a little shocked. “Really?”
“Yep” he said, popping the ‘p’. “It’s about time I told you what it was.”
“Okay” she said, a little nervous to know what it was.
“Hey” he said, getting her attention as he could see she was worrying. “I promise it’s a good thing.”
“I know, I just… you don’t have to just because I was worried. I’m not anymore, seriously” she rambled, but he stopped her by pecking her lips.
“I’m not, Y/N. I really want you to see what’s going on” he confirmed, smiling at her.
“Okay” she nodded, more excited this time.
“Good” he smirked. “Now let’s eat.”
After breakfast, Dean took her in the shower as he simply couldn’t resist her, and then they both got dressed. Y/N got dressed into a long sweater dress that had a split on the side, putting her long, black coat on over the top. They rugged up with their scarves, as Dean locked up the house. They got into the car and Dean drove through the streets of Lawrence, excited to finally show Y/N what he had been waiting to. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she saw what it was. Dean turned onto the street, moving forward down the road and cutting the engine as he stopped outside the house. Y/N looked around the street, a slight frown on her face.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Well,” Dean started as he pointed up at the two-storey house, with a garden that was still yet to be made and a large porch. “That’s the Saturday secret.”
She looked up at the house, blinking a few times. “Meaning?”
“Meaning… it’s mine” he replied, with a small smile. “I’ve been renovating it for a few months. There’s still a lot of work to do, but it’s coming together.”
“That’s amazing!” she smiled, as she moved forward on the seat and hugged him. “You could’ve just told me.” She laughed as she pulled away, but frowned as she saw him looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.
“I couldn’t because…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath. “Because it’s mine but… I want it to be ours. When we’re ready to move, I want us to move in here. Together.”
Her eyes widened as she was completely shocked. “But… but Dean it’s yours. If something happened-” He cut her off with a small chuckle.
“It’s ours. I’m going to call the office and get you added to the contract” he told her, smirking.
She smiled, feeling tears brimming her eyes. “Dean, that’s so sweet but… we’re not married. Anything could happen-” he cut her off again by shaking his head.
“Do you think something bad is gonna happen?” he asked, really wanting to know.
She thought about it for a second. She had no real reason to think that way, it was just a precaution they needed to take, wasn’t it? “Well, no… but it would be messy to change things to add me, wouldn’t it?” she wondered, shrugging.
“It’s nothing we can’t figure out, sweetheart” he said, simply. “And yeah, we’re not married but… we can get married. Some day.”
She stared at him, feeling faint. “Really?”
“Yeah” he nodded, not missing a beat. “It’s all on the table, sweetheart. Kids were already there, right?”
She nodded slowly as she looked at him, not trusting her voice.
“Then so is marriage” he said, taking her hand in his. “So… you wanna move in with me when it’s done?”
She laughed as she nodded, excitedly. “Yes!” she launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. He laughed as he buried his face in her neck, placing a small kiss there. He pulled away, smiling at her.
“Alright, let’s go in and I can show you what we’ve done so far” he said, tugging her hand to move out of the car.
“Wait” she stopped him. “I don’t want to see it.”
He frowned, not understanding her. “Why?”
“Because,” she started, smiling at him as a tear rolled down her cheek. “You wanted this to be a surprise for me. And I want that to still happen. No one… no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Everything you’ve done for me… it completely floors me, to this day. I like it when you surprise me because you keep doing that… so I don’t want to see it. Not yet.”
He smiled at her, nodding as he understood. “Okay. You still gotta help me though. I need to know what to do on the inside and I want your inspiration. Maybe you can use your home magazines that you keep, and you think I don’t know about.”
She looked sheepish, as she nodded. “Sounds good.”
He leaned in, kissing her passionately. She pulled away, leaning her forehead against his.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you” she apologized. Seeing what he had been keeping from her made her feel so guilty, and she knew she needed to apologize again.
He shook his head, kissing her hand. “There’s no need for that, sweetheart. We’re good.”
Once they left, they drove into town. They felt like walking around, so they went to a few bookstores and record stores, picking up a couple that they liked or didn’t have yet. After, they had some lunch at one of their favorite diners before they came back home.
Y/N was so relieved that everything was out in the open, and nothing was as bad as what she had been thinking. In fact, it was all amazing. The house was incredible, and she couldn’t wait to see what Dean would do with it. She smiled as she walked into his house, thinking about their conversation in the car.
He had put marriage on the table. It probably always was considering kids were on the table, but this was the first time he’d said it out loud. In a flash of his words, she imagined herself as his wife, her heart beating wildly at that thought. She knew that he was the only person she could ever attach herself to in that way, and she was glad to know that he was thinking about it, too.
Dean smiled as she watched Y/N going about his house, making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen. He could so easily picture her in the new house, once it was done, the images of his dream returning to him. He couldn’t wait to spend his whole life with her. When he was younger, thinking on those terms was downright terrifying, but not anymore. Not when you have someone who loves you unconditionally and wants to spend every day making sure you’re cared for. That’s how she made him feel.
Later that night, they cooked dinner together. Dean’s lasanga that she loved so much that he made when she first came to his house for dinner. This time was much different, however. Now, she was helping him in the kitchen, playfully handing him things, as he stole kisses from her every now and then. One thing remained the same, however, both of them grooving to Zeppelin as they cooked.
Leaves are falling all around
It’s time I was on my way
Thanks to you I’m much obliged
For such a pleasant stay
But now it’s time for me to go
The autumn moon lights my way
For now I smell the rain
And with it pain
And it’s headed my way
Ah, sometimes I grow so tired
But I know I’ve got one thing I got to do
Ramble on
And now’s the time, the time is now
To sing my song
I’m goin’ round the world, I got to find my girl
On my way
I’ve been this way ten years to the day
Ramble on
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams
Dean stirred the sauce in the pot, reflecting on the words of one of his favorite songs. He had spent years, flirting and sleeping around with women. Years of rambling on, trying to find somewhere to settle, maybe even someone if he was lucky enough to ever find the one for him. He thought he had found a good thing until it went sour incredibly quickly.
Then Y/N came into his life. Shining like a beacon from across the street; something he immediately gravitated to. It became apparent to him very soon, that she was it. She was the one. The woman he had been looking for all his life, without really seeking her out.
She was the queen of all his dreams.
Dean walked up behind her as she chopped up some basil, kissing her head. She turned around, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him, softly. She looked up at him, her eyes gazing into his with the most loving expression. One he had seen several times now, but it suddenly felt like she was seeing him for the first time.
“What is it?” she asked, knowing he was thinking about something.
“I get it” he replied, knowing it wasn’t clear but also knowing she’d ask him again.
“Get what?” she asked, confused.
“Why you’re the one” he replied, not missing a beat. No pause. No hesitation. He leaned in, kissing her passionately.
Y/N smiled into the kiss as Dean pulled her in closer, resting her forehead against his. She knew he was the one for her too. After all the years of heartache and pain, years of wondering if she’d ever be good enough for someone, she finally found the man who would do absolutely anything to make her happy. She finally found the one she was always meant to be with.
They had learned a lot along the way, had spent months trying to fight their feelings for each other, before they finally realized they couldn’t deny it any longer.
They gazed into each other’s eyes, seeing nothing but love as they quietly acknowledged that moment as the start of something new.
Something new that they couldn’t wait to explore.
Together.
-x-
Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng @roonyxx @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
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When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.
In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.
I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his. 
He didn't seem to mind.
In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.
But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.
Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.
It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.
"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."
"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.
I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.
"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.
"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.
"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.
Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.
But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.
"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."
The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.
A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.
I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!
But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.
The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.
"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"
"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me. 
At least I was finally learning more about him.
"Where did you go?"
"Caltech."
He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.
"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"
He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.
"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."
He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.
"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."
The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.
As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.
I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.
Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"
He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."
I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.
"You said you're a profiler for the..."
"Behavioral Analysis Unit."
His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.
"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"
The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever). 
Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.
"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."
"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."
He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.
"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.
"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.
"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."
His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.
"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."
Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.
He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."
"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.
He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.
I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.
I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"
I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.
Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.
"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.
I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."
The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.
"You're cute."
When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.
I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.
Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"
"Honestly? I usually don't."
That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.
"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.
He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.
"I can think of several."
Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.
"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."
That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.
"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."
The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.
"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.
I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.
"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."
He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.
"Only you would take that as a compliment."
Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.
"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."
"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.
"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.
He didn't fall for it.
"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"
What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.
But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.
"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.
"Quoting me? That's bold."
Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."
He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.
"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."
He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.
Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.
"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.
"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.
I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.
"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."
Touché, Dr. Reid.
"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.
The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.
The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.
The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.
Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."
I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.
"Makes me nervous," I further explained.
"Can I help?"
Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.
"You already are."
There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't  have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he  exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.
I just liked him, okay?
When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.
With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.
"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.
"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.
He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.
Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain. 
He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.
I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.
My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.
His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."
I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.
"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."
I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.
"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"
A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.
"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."
I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.
"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.
"But I'm not one of them."
His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.
"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."
My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.
"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."
I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.
I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.
"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.
I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.
"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"
He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.
"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."
My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.
"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"
He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.
"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."
I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.
I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.
"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.
"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.
I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.
However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.
I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
The pity was gone.
I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."
The silence was back.
Oops.
I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.
"My place it is, then."
I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"
"Sure, why not?"
I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.
"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."
He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."
"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.
"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.
"Uh-huh."
I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...
He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.
"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.
"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.
"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.
"I'm not stopping you from driving!"
Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.
"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."
It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.
"Spoil sport."
"At least you're alive!"
It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.
"... What are you doing?"
It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.
"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.
"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.
My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."
I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.
"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered. 
Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look. 
He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.
"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."
On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.
Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.
"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.
I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.
Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.
There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.
As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.
I was oddly okay with that.
"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.
He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."
I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.
But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.
Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.
God, I hoped so.
As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.
Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.
"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."
"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."
I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.
I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.
Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.
Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.
But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!
Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.
In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.
He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.
"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.
He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.
He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.
"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"
When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.
"No, I'm afraid not."
He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.
"This will be a very different kind of lesson."
Oh, I realized all at once.
"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.
The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."
The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.
"Unless you've changed your mind."
"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."
He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.
He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.
He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.
"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."
"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.
Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.
So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.
"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.
"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.
"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."
The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me. 
"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.
"Can't we have both?"
His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.
Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.
"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.
I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.
"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.
"Smart girl," he responded.
It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.
I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.
Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.
I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.
Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.
"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"
"A little bit, yeah."
When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.
"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.
With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was. 
"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."
It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.
My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.
"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.
With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was  becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.
I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.
Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.
"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.
"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."
I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.
Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.
"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.
I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.
"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."
A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"
The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.
"Are you jealous?"
His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"
Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.
"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.
I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.
"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.
"I'm yours, Spencer."
I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.
He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.
I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.
I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.
The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.
His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.
And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?
"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.
"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.
"I am fucking exhausted."
That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.
He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.
"Do you have to take me home?"
I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.
"No."
The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.
"Thanks."
His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.
I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.
I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.
I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.
Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.
It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.
He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.
Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.
For now.
I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.
His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.
I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed. 
"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.
My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.
"About what?" I whispered back.
Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath  for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.
"I'm happy that you're mine."
... What?
 —————————————————
| Part 5 |
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A little something about tarot for beginners and everyone who is interested.
I planned this post for a long time, mainly for tarot newbies, someone who wants to start or  just interested in how works. It won’t be a Tarot 101, definitely not. More likely, how I work with the cards. 
DISCLAIMER: If you are underage I cannot and I won’t give you any ideas how to hide your practice from your parents or guardians. I know tiktok is very popular, but be careful because there is way more misinformation than any other SM site. 
First, you obviously got familiar with the basic meaning of the cards, the build of the deck. You will learn the suits, the arcanas, the court cards, the numerology groups, and a few keywords. But this comes with practice. This doesn’t mean you can only draw your first card after you learned all of those things. No. When you buy your deck, look at each card carefully. Do not turn into a companion book or the internet immediately. Think about the card, make notes into a journal or a paper about what you feel, notice when you look at the image. Makes you happy, makes you scared? Is it dark, it is light? And after that, you can read what the book says. 
Tarot is about storytelling so your intuition, your memories, your feelings are very important.
When someone is saying tarot has fixed meanings… this is not entirely true. One card can have many many meanings depending on its position or the surrounding cards. Yes, Death card won’t mean your soulmate is coming on a horse, but it’s also 99% won’t mean you are gonna die. 
If you want fixed meanings, you should read Lenormand instead. In Lenormand, there are certain combinations with fixed meanings, there is no place for intuition. The pictures on the Lenormand cards have aesthetic purposes only they don’t have additional meanings. Tarot is intuitive. It means you combine the meanings of the cards and above that, you are using your intuition AND the pictures on the cards. Movements, colours, directions, animals, flowers, symbols etc. 
What do I mean? I’ll show you. 
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Those are the Fools from the classic RWS, the Modern Witch Tarot and the This Might Hurt Tarot decks. Look how similar they are at first. They are representing the carfree, daydreaming attitude, the journey. They all have a companion, a dog etc. You can fairly read those the same way. Of course, there are differences, the big city instead of the mountains, backpack etc, but I think those are amazing starter decks. 
I think I wrote in my first tarot post that even many people do not like the classical RWS deck, because the images seem ugly and there is no diversity, for me that is the basis and I think everyone should have own it. But if you absolutely don’t want to because you don’t like it at all, those 2 decks, the Modern Witch Tarot and the This Might Hurt Deck seems a good starter deck. RSW was not my first deck, I haven’t started with it, so you can buy it later on if you want and start with the deck you like more. It is very important to choose a deck that speaks to you. Tarot first and foremost is about your personal journey or helping others if you are reading for others. What I am doing here in tumblr is fun, a good practice, it is testing my abilities but tarot is not only for knowing more about our celeb crushes. It is a guied to ourselves. 
Let’s see more examples with pictures.  The RWS tarot and the New Vision tarot.
New Vision tarot recreates the RWS imagery but as you will see gives a different perspective to the cards, therefore gives a new layer to them. I heard the deck has only a little white book, not a real guide, which is a shame. I think it’s an interesting concept and you could deliver very different readings than with a standard RWS. Personally, I wouldn’t recommend this deck to a newbie but it’s interesting so I show you. You can see how different those images, how different intuitive messages you can get.
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Same-ish concept is the Vica Versa Tarot. Based on the ratings it is more usable than the New Vision Tarot. This deck has pictures on both sides and the meaning varies depends on this. This is also a very RWS based deck so it is very interesting to me. Not in the near future, but I want to purchase this deck. 
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I will show you a few more examples of cards that are less based on the RWS system (or not at all) therefore you need you and your intuition more.
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RWS, Gentle Tarot, Wild Unkown, Shadowscapes
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I hope you understand now how important it is to use your own intuitions, feelings, experiences and find the style that suits you. Personally, I prefer the more earth-based, pagan or darker decks (not too dark though, I should say more serious) but you can find all pastel pink, fluffy decks too. There are literally thousands of decks on the market in every style. But those are not cheap things, if you cannot connect you won’t be able to work with them. If you like a deck, go to youtube, search for a flip through. Look at the cards carefully. If you still like it, amazing. However, if you bought a deck and it turns out not for you you can still sell it online or if you are really lucky you have spiritual stores or fairs in your area where you can sell or change it for something else. 
Connecting the cards it’s not easy, but one of my most spot-on reading was when I let my intuition work completely. I remember I pulled the cards and I started to collect the information about what they could mean. And I felt it makes no sense left to right but right to left I understand it crystal clear. I was hesitant because you have this preconception you have to read the cards in order, but guess what, you don’t have to. I will link an excellent video about it, I found it after my reading and it was a light bulb, aha moment for me. This youtube channel is not for beginners, but I recommend watching this video, you will understand what I ment and it will help you.
The other thing, yes, in western culture we read left to right but this is only one way you can do it. You don’t have to stick with it in your readings. In the most popular spread in the Celtic cross you read the last 4 cards from down to up. And on the standard RWS deck (as you can see on the first picture above), The Fool starts his journey and he is heading from right to left. Isn’t this amazing? And the Major Arcana is about The Fool’s journey. Aka your journey.
*( I cannot link here, in the middle of the text, so it will be video 1 at the end)
So don’t be afraid, be free, make your own meaning, rituals. This is your tarot journey, no one else's. Yours. Don’t let some bitter, “I know better, you are wrong” people take your enthusiasm away. 
You can read many books and sources but it doesn’t mean you will understand the cards. You cannot read the cards mechanically. Keywords are helpful at the beginning but after a while you have to leave them behind and use your intuition. 
99% of the tarot readers have difficulty with Court Cards. Those are basically people on the cards, doing very little. Some readers read them only as a person, some of them read them as an influence. Just because there is a man on the cards this doesn't mean it represents a male in your life. So it’s hard. 
One exercise which is fun and you can make it easier  is that you try to pair them with people in your life. Do you have an impulsive brother who is flirty and rushing things? Knight of Wands. Do you have a mean female boss, who is gossiping and bitching? Queen of Swords rx.  Of course, this is very basic, but it could help and it is fun.
If you don’t want to use your family or acquaintances, use tv series instead. I think Game of Thrones is amazing for this. It has so many different characters. Many of them are even changing. Jon Snow went from Knight to King, Arya from page to Knight, Sansa from Page to Knight, from Knight to Queen.
The second type of exercise is similar just with the minors. Choose a movie and try to tell the story with the minors. People met, fell in love, getting married, broke up, fighting over money during the divorce etc. All in the cards. 
Pulling a card daily is amazing in every way. People recommend doing this in the morning, however I like to do this at the evening. Firstly, because I am a night owl, mornings are painful for me and I don’t have time in the mornings. But the most inportant reason is because I can be anxious and easily stressed out. If I pull the Death at the mornig I will stressing out the whole day. However if I pull this at the evening as a summary of my day maybe I will realise immediately, “oh, my favourite tv show was cancelled, bummer.” or “ I have a new teamleader at work or school, so this is a new cycle for us” I think this gives you a bigger and clearer understanding how those cards are fit into your daily life and what are they meaning for you personally. 
When you choose to do any kind of divination it’s crucial to protect your energies. So it’s inevitable to start meditating. The other two practices which I highly highly recommend are called Grounding and Circle Casting. Don’t be scared, those are just higher forms of meditation that help you to keep the balance, but those are also a must if you decide to do another type of Energy Work, for example of Energy Manipulation. I will link an excellent video about it. This YT is also an amazing resource if you are interested in Wicca. You don’t have to! This channel is amazing anyway. Personally, I am not a Wiccan either as I am not celebrating Wiccan sabbats like Beltane or Imbolc, but I love this channel so so much.
*I cannot link the video becuse she’s blocked this option but this is her site. Go and check her  Centering and Grounding ║ Witchcraft 101 video, it was uploaded on July 10th in 2019 
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFz0Rtv2bh86aUy_5_YsGLw
There will be a point when someone wants to scare you that tarot, divination and spirituality are evil. It is not. Tarot is a piece of paper with pictures on it. It’s not deviant or anything. The cards have no intentions or consciousness, they are just cardstock. Not bad or good. What can make it harmful is the unethical people. Someone who wants to bribe you to pay a big amount of money because “you are cursed” or is someone trying to manipulate the readings to scare you or make you do something. If your intentions are good, have a moral and you protect your energy, you don’t have to be afraid. 
In my experience usually people who are heavily involved in churches or Christianity try to push that the tarot and spirituality are evil. Of course not all of them, I know many professional tarot readers who are also Christian, love Jesus etc. 
What you should know and maybe this could give you a little comfort or calm that we are all spiritual beings. All of us are made of energy. We are so much more than flesh and blood and bones. Everyone is attracting or have spirits in their life even the most hardcore churchgoers have. You are not bad or evil just because you use divination. Always your intention is important and that you seek the light side of spiritualism. 
I hope you liked this post, it becomes my baby and I am really proud of it and I hope you will find it useful or interesting. In the forseeable future I am not planning anyithing similar but I am open to questions as always. Maybe I will have an answer.  
Be Blessed.
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alison-anonymous · 4 years
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I Want to Write a Mikayuu Series
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Okay.
So um.
If you're reading this, HELLO. All of you long time ONS fans probably don't know me, but I'm Alison and I'm a hardcore Mikayuu, Mitsunoa, Gureshin, etc shipper. I've been in the ONS fandom for almost a year and dear god. The amount of people telling me that Mikayuu is queerbait is just making me really sad 😅 I'm a writer, and I'm the type of person who honestly feels like the author of a series should have the ability to choose how a story ends without influence of their readers. I mean, if it's their story, then it should be their ending, right? However, I also do have some qualms when it comes to how this "love triangle" between Yu, Mika, and Shinoa is being portrayed. This is entirely my personal opinion, but I feel like Shinoa seems to be forcing herself to love Yu. I honestly don't think she cares for him in a romantic way, but more of a very deep-rooted admiration or even envy that she's trying to convince herself to be romantic love. And Yu has said multiple times that he values Mika's life above his own, that he doesn't know what he would do without him if he were to die again (I mean the fact that he suffered seeing his best friend and potential lover die a first time was definitely scarring enough, PLEASE STOP TORTURING OUR POOR BABIES). And it's basically confirmed by now that when Mika said I love you in the manga, it was in the romantic sense. Even though I wish, I hope, I dream, and I pray that Mikayuu will become canon, I honestly can't say for certain what I think will happen. I think it could sway any way, with Mikayuu becoming canon, Yu and Shinoa becoming canon, or it being one of those ambiguous endings where it's heavily implied but nothing actually happens. And in order to make myself feel better when stuff like this happens, I tend to rewrite the entire story with the ending that I would have liked to see ;)
You're probably wondering where the hell this stranger is going with this. Well, I want to write a book. A series, actually.
One that's inspired by Seraph of the End.
Now, if you're interested in hearing me out, then feel free to keep reading. But if not, continue on with your scrolling, no hard feelings. But if you do, and I really hope that you do, give me a chance to explain.
I want to write a series inspired by Seraph of the End called Bloodsucker (working title, obviously). And this series is going to be a reimagination of ONS with an ending that I would have loved to see in the anime and manga. I plan to have three main characters (please keep in mind that I'm going to have name changes): Yuichiro, Mikaela, and a brand new character, Epic.
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Now, I would begin this series a bit before the anime and I'm assuming the manga begins. I'd start with introducing our main three characters as they meet in the orphanage (yes, Epic would be a part of this orphanage as well) and how Epic and Yu try to make moves to run away only to be stopped by Mika and Akane.
I plan to include a scene between Epic and Akane where Epic tries to run out in the middle of the night only to be stopped by Akane, and this is what caused Epic to develop a crush on her (Epic is a girl btw). Then I would begin the whole shit with the vampires and how they set the world on fire and shit, but instead of the apocolypse, I'd make it so that most of the adults died in the fire while the kids were taken alive (because young blood is better and whatnot). This includes our little Hyakuya family. The directors would have tried to trade the kids lives for their own, and due to their selfishness, the vamps killed them and took the kids anyway.
This would begin my first story arc: the prewar.
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Epic, Akane, Mika, and Yu would all be living under the vampires at this point along with the rest of the kids in their orphanage. I plan to include lots of moments of bonding that heavily imply Epic loves Akane even though she doesn't know it yet and Mika loves Yu, but Yu is fucking oblivious. The four begin to plot their escape, but while Mika and Akane (yes Akane too) are making deals with the vampires to help out with their family, Epic is constantly finding herself getting dragged along to visit Queen Krul. The pink haired vamp has a soft spot for her for some reason and often tells her that Epic and her family are "special" or sum shit. And she's super confused and semi grossed out. But none of the vamps ever dare to hurt her so she thinks it's fine. Then one day they all plot their escape and it's much more planned out and lengthy and less rushed than it is in the anime. Things almost seem to work out until the vampires stop them
And Mika and Akane DIE.
I know. I'm horrid.
Epic is standing here in shock as she watches the love of her life die before her and Mika BEGS for Yu to take Epic and run while they can. So while in the series only Yu survives, he obeys Mika and both him and Epic survive this. They're found by Guren (a new character I haven't come up with yet lol) and Yu is super protective over Epic, not wanting anyone to take the only piece of his family he has left (he's a fucking mess without Mika let's just be honest) and Guren ends up taking them under his wing.
Now we hit the second arc. Still with me?
The War.
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Hold onto your hats everyone because this is where shit is about to get complicated. So I do plan to have a bit of a time skip into the current spot where Yu and Epic are attending school with Guren as their father figure and they've become very close. So close that Yu refuses to work with anyone else but her. They end up getting onto Shinoa Squad (obviously going to be completely different in my version) and they get put onto the battlefield. But here's the catch. Well, two catches.
Yu and Epic do have demon weapons. I do plan to try to incorporate that into this. BUT the backstory is different. I plan to make it so that the vampires obviously see the humans as fies. Insignificant things that are more playthings than threats. And they didn't want to have to deal with killing all of them, so they sent demons in their place to handle it. But the humans were able to form deals or "contracts" with the demons and therefore turned the vampires' own secret weapon against them.
Now, catch no. 2
So, Epic, Mika, and Yu aren't seraphs in this. But they are something else. I'm going to try to explain this as simply as I can, but each of them (besides Mika since he doesn't have a demon) have 3 souls inside their body:
Soul 1 is their current soul, the one that identifies as Mika or Epic or Yu.
Soul 2 is their demon soul, like what Asuramaru is to Yu.
And soul 3 is their archangel soul (I might change that name later on).
So I'm just going to come right out and say it. In this series, Epic is the villain.
Yes.
You read that right.
Epic is the villain. But she doesn't know that she is. These Soul 3s were reincarnated into the current bodies of Mika, Epic, and Ari (and I know that's not exactly how it works but screw logic this is just a fucking concept) from their lives centuries ago.
These souls existed way before vampires existed and Epic (or Essie) was very close friends with Yu (or Aytigin). Aytigin was in love with Haru (Mika) but for one reason or another, they couldn't be together. Essie wanted to do something, willing to do anything to make the two of them happy. So she made a deal that brought the vampires into creation so that Haru and Aytigin could be happy. She was willing to sacrifice everything that they stood for so that the two of them could be in love together.
She had good intentions, but of course Haru and Aytigin were furious because now the vampires were turning against the humans and they all basically died. Until they were reborn respectively, but unknowingly.
Now picking back up in the present, Yu and Epic are fighting in one of the main battles and the two are very confused when the vampires make a very deliberate attempt not to hurt Epic. They're unsure as to why, but Guren tells them not to worry about it.
Suspicious bastard.
Anyway, it's revealed finally that MIKA IS ALIVE
BUT HE'S ALSO DEAD
Yes he is a vampire. And Yu falls in love all over again upon seeing him, and after a bunch of struggling, Epic gets kidnapped. At first she gets strangled by Lacus and then she gets kidnapped by Ferid who doesn't kill her surprisingly.
Oh and uh... Ferid is nice in this. He's still a fucking creep, but he's a lot nicer than he is in the series. I plan to make Queen Krul or whoever I turn her into be the villain.
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Anyway, they take Epic back to the vampire palace or whatever and Queen Krul and Epic are reunited! And Krul is the one who reveals to Epic exactly who she, Mika, and Yu are and this is what sparks Epic's fall to insanity.
I mean, she's the killer. She's the one who brought them into this world. She's responsible for every death the vampires cause.
I would go crazy too.
So, she manages to escape (partially thanks to Mika) and the two join Yu and the others again and it's revealed a second time exactly what is going on. And while no one actually blames Epic on the Shinoa Squad, that doesn't stop people like Kureto and even herself from blaming.
And this causes her demon to go haywire.
She begins losing her marbles, almost killing her teammates and trying to kill herself, all while the three begin to experience dreams or visions of their Soul 3s.
While all this shit is going on, there's heavy romance between Mika and Yu because these two lovers just got reunited and FUCK did they have glow ups but yes -
Oh. And there is another spark for Epic, even though she doesn't think she's worthy of love.
Okay. I'm just gonna say it.
Lacus falls in love with Epic. Yes. You read that correctly too.
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I plan to make the two of them get trapped together at some point and they have to work together to escape. It's during this time that Epic realizes he's not all that bad and has some form of self control and he realizes that she's the most interesting thing he's ever met in this disgusting and boring life and damn do her eyes look pretty-
But yes. She forms a permanent alliance with him that he jokes about as marriage and they meet on other occassions too, but lol yes.
Anyway, blah blah blah, more fall to insanity, the Soul 3s take over their bodies on multiple occasions and there's a lot of bonding and fighting and Epic and Mika somehow manage to get some of the vampires on the human side.
And in the end, Epic and Yu basically sacifice themselves to save the human race and kill Queen Krul. It's a very rough ending I haven't quite perfected yet, but Yu has a moment like he did with the King of Salt. But though he inflicted a lot of damage, it's not enough. So while the team is worried about him, Epic takes this opportunity to fix her and Essie's mistakes.
She allows both Essie and her demon to take control of her body and dies on the battlefield. Queen Krul is eliminated. Most of the vampires are gone. The humans won.
Horray.
Epic is dead.
Kinda. Yu and Mika take her back home and this is the preview to the last arc where everyone's in the hospital and Epic's in a coma. Mika and Yu barely ever leave her side and it's only when Lacus of all people comes to visit that she fucking wakes up.
Okay. Are you still with me? Now come with me to the final arc.
The Post-War.
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No my friend. It doesn't end there. Because Mika and Lacus are still vamps and life still sucks and I drank too much coffee this morning.
No it's not over yet.
So flash forward a couple years and Kureto and Crew are working as the heads of this city. Stuff is being rebuilt, people are settling down in homes, Lacus and some of the other "good" vampires find jobs, and Mika, Yu, and Epic get a house together (in case I didn't mention before, Epic is pansexual. She loved Akane dearly and I plan to include scenes where she sees her in her mind and dreams like Mikayuu so she's never truly gone, but she falls for Lacus too when he's not being a sadistic asshole). Things are going strangely when
BAM. Epic and Yu come up with a cure for vampirism.
How, you may ask? I don't fucking know, I haven't read about it in the manga yet but before we come up with an idea for it, imma say they came up with it through a spell. They share their findings with Guren and soon all vampires are being cured, most notably Mika, Lacus, and even Rene.
BUT and there's always a but, Kureto passes a new law claiming all vampires to be property. That any vampire or previous vampire or even vampire supporter/owner that tries to disobey these new laws is to be killed immediately. Now Epic and Yu are in jeopardy because their ex-vampires are in danger (Epic and Lacus have been hanging out a lot more and he's proven himself to be a decent guy. Contrary to popular belief, I headcanon him as not really knowing what to do when he actually cares about someone since he's been a heartless vamp for so long. So when he turns to Mika and begrudgingly asks him for LOVE ADVICE of all fucking things, Mika is ready to die). So basically, Mika and Lacus end up getting locked up along with the other ex-vamps (including Ferid which was a pain in the ass) and did I forget to mention that there's a proposal?
Oh yeah, Yu proposes to Mika and the blond still has yet to give him an actual answer because poor baby is still having a hard time accepting that Yu can love a "monster" like him.
But anyways, now Epic and Yu are furious and SHINOA SQUAD IS BACK IN BUSINESS. With the help of Guren and Shinya and everyone, they form a sort of rebellion and blah blah blah they manage to get Mika and Lacus and everyone out and blah blah blah they all get separated and Lacus begins to get INSANELY protective of Epic and ends up confessing his feelings to her before he nearly dies and blah blah blah did I forget to mention that I'm making Mitsunnoa and Kimizuki x Yoichi canon and blah blah blah.
Epic kisses Lacus as an instinct. Lacus kisses her again. Mika accepts Yu's proposal then almost dies AGAIN. I kill off some characters for emotional tugs and after a ton of more fighting and revenge and psychological breakings later, Kureto is killed. And Guren (or someone else haven't decided yet) is the new head of their city.
Epic, Mika, and Yu finally let Akane and the kids go. There's a lot of Shinoa Squad bonding but this is a summary so I haven't included much besides the main three. Epic and Lacus becomes canon. Mika and Yu get married. Guren and Shinya get married. Shinoa gets pregnant.
And everyone gets the FUCKING HAPPY ENDING THAT THEY ALL FUCKING DESERVE BECAUSE FUCK
I do plan to be slightly ruthless like the creator and include a lot of heartbreaking scenes, but it's going to be much different than ONS but I still want it to hold on to some core relationships.
I just want them to be happy. And I just want to make other people happy because fuck I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY
So. Yeah.
That's Bloodsucker...
So my question to you is... if I wrote this shit.
If I sat down and typed about 30 books roughly inspired by Seraph of the End and Mikayuu and Mitsunnoa and shit...
Would anyone read it?
♡ a.a.
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