#I think I'm generally level-headed about it
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of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle
summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.
word count: 3k
a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3
The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.
You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.
"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.
You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.
"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.
"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.
"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.
"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."
A pause.
"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.
You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.
"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.
You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.
"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."
But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.
"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.
"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."
Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.
"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.
"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.
She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.
It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.
Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.
"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.
"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.
"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.
"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.
Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.
"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.
"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.
But then she wasn't the only one.
After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.
"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.
"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.
"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"
You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.
"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"
Your face tangled in disgust.
"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.
"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.
"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"
"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"
You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.
The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.
The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.
Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.
You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.
Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.
Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.
"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.
You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.
"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.
"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"
You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?
And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.
"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."
"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.
"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.
You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.
Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.
His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.
"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.
His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.
Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.
You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.
You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.
The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.
He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.
"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."
He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.
"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.
He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.
He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.
"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.
His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.
He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.
You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.
He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.
Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.
It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.
"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.
Wait. Was this him?
"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.
"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.
"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."
"What?"
"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."
He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.
You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'
This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.
"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.
"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.
"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.
"When it's true" he said simply.
You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.
"What?" you breathed.
"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."
He kissed you.
"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.
He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.
"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.
“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”
ˋ°•*⁀➷ I have the tiniest little epilogue that I'll post soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!
taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle fanfic
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Rereading the Our Worlds at War tie-in again and God I miss their friendship every day
#they're such an underrated dynamic from this series#like throughout yj98 there's a definite distance between tim and everybody else since he can't reveal his identity to them#and cassie is definitely way closer to cissie and kon and bart than she is to him bc of that distance#and you can feel that awkwardness here in the way she apologizes to him immediately -- they're not at the level#where she can just shout and be mean to him and know it'll be fine -- not like she is with cissie or kon#but for tim -- i think he is at that level? like he wouldn't shout at her either but that's cause he's generally sweet to the yj girls#he doesn't butt heads with cassie like he does with the guys - but i also think she's someone he trusts to have his back in a very real way#and i think it's really telling that when everybody was confronting him about batman's contingencies it was CASSIE'S opinion#he asked for -- like she was the last person he thought would think that of him#obligatory 'the two people who died in his granny goodness nightmare were cassie and kon'#idk there's such an undercurrent of care even if they don't get as many 'this is my best friend' moments like some of the others#aghhhh#and the way cassie so clearly respects his opinion and is so worried he'll be mad at her when she replaces him as leader#the way she's the first one to hug him when he comes back to the team after he quits#oof. OOF. they're friends they're friends they LOVE EACH OTHER#sorry everyone i'm getting all up in my feelings again that they're the only ones left after infinite crisis#tim drake#cassie sandsmark#dc robin#wonder girl#young just us#young justice#yj98#dc comics#cassie tag#tim tag#gnome talks comics
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Any judgement on [Richard III's] reign has to be seen as provisional. The critic of the reign only has to consider how the Tudors would now be regarded if Henry VII lost at Stoke, to realize the dangers of too many assumptions about the intractability of Richard’s problems. But it would be equally unrealistic to ignore Richard’s unpopularity altogether. The fact that he generated opposition among men with little material reason for dissent, and that the disaffection then continued to spread among his own associates, says something about what contemporaries regarded as the acceptable parameters of political behaviour. There is no doubt that Richard’s deposition of his nephews was profoundly shocking. To anyone who did not accept the pre-contract story, which was probably the majority of observers, the usurpation was an act of disloyalty. Gloucester, both as uncle and protector, was bound to uphold his nephew’s interests and his failure to do so was dishonourable. Of all medieval depositions, it was the only one which, with whatever justification, could most easily be seen as an act of naked self-aggrandizement.
It was also the first pre-emptive deposition in English history. This raised enormous problems. Deposition was always a last resort, even when it could be justified by the manifest failings of a corrupt or ineffective regime. How could one sanction its use as a first resort, to remove a king who had not only not done [nothing] wrong but had not yet done anything at all?
-Rosemary Horrox, Richard III: A Study of Service
#richard iii#my post#english history#Imo this is what really stands out to me the most about Richard's usurpation#By all accounts and precedents he really shouldn't have had a problem establishing himself as King#He was the de-facto King from the beginning (the king he usurped was done away with and in any case hadn't even ruled);#He was already well-known and respected in the Yorkist establishment (ie: he wasn't an 'outsider' or 'rival' or from another family branch)#and there was no question of 'ins VS outs' in the beginning of his reign because he initially offered to preserve the offices and positions#for almost all his brother's servants and councilors - merely with himself as their King instead#Richard himself doesn't seem to have actually expected any opposition to his rule and he was probably right in this expectation#Generally speaking the nobility and gentry were prepared to accept the de-facto king out of pragmatism and stability if nothing else#You see it pretty clearly in Henry VII's reign and Edward IV's reign (especially his second reign once the king he usurped was finally#done away with and he finally became the de-facto king in his own right)#I'm sure there were people who disliked both Edward and Henry for usurpations but that hardly matters -#their acceptance was pragmatic not personal#That's what makes the level of opposition to Richard so striking and startling#It came from the very people who should have by all accounts accepted his rule however resigned or hateful that acceptance was#But they instead turned decisively against him and were so opposed to his rule that they were prepared to support an exiled and obscure*#Lancastrian claimant who could offer them no manifest advantage rather than give up opposition when they believed the Princes were dead#It's like Horrox says -#The real question isn't why Richard lost at Bosworth; its why Richard had to face an army at all - an army that was *Yorkist* in motivation#He divided his own dynasty and that is THE defining aspect of his usurpation and his reign. Discussions on him are worthless without it#It really puts a question on what would have happened had he won Bosworth. I think he had a decent chance of success but at the same time#Pretenders would've turned up and they would have been far more dangerous with far more internal support than they had been for Henry#Again - this is what makes his usurpation so fascinating to me. I genuinely do find him interesting as a historical figure in some ways#But his fans instead fixate on a fictional version of him they've constructed in their heads instead#(*obscure from a practical perspective not a dynastic one)#queue
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y'all ever feel so much love for your f/o that you just get moved to literal tears or am i just a mess
#art is making me feel things once again#marigoldshipping#<---- mima brainrot hours which is terrible timing because i need to be awake in like six hours#but i am over here. kicking my legs in bed every five seconds#i love him so much he's a literal safety hazard akjjhdsh :(#he's also just a huge nerd and literally just a big loser but/lh#aaaa stopp making me FEEL THINGS it's horrible#i need to be sleeping and not generating tears because my heart goes crazy over fictional characters#literally smiling like an idiot just thinking about him while typing this#he's just. >_<#oh terrible another moment where i can't convey what i'm thinking#he's just... he's such a nerddd aaaaa#his snarkiness his obvious need to dramaticize things even though he *claims* that's a thing that only marik does now (he's lying)#his attempts at seeming much more stoic than he actually is his poorly hidden attempts at trying not to seem like he cares too much#how he can be so arrogant and sharp one second and try so hard to be responsible and gentle the next#how he tries to act like he isn't as much as a wreck as the rest of us but he definitely is#i don't. even know what i'm trying to say. i don't think i ever really do when it comes to any of them#they make me so stupidly incoherent i can't even think correctly right now#i just... i love how i've managed to get past his walls. that i get to see more of him now#not just the scary and daunting part that he used to be. not just the level headed and intimidating part. not just the upset and angry part#i get to see the sides of him where he makes dumb and ignorant mistakes. i get to see him when he's calm. i get to see him when he's happy#i get to see him when he's sad and i get to see him when he's completely vulnerable#i get to see him in every mood and in every emotion. i get to see every part.#and i love all the parts of him. all the mess and fuss and the wrongs and the rights and the good and the bad#all of it is completely lovable to me. he's completely lovable to me.#i just. aaaa sobbing crying sniffling into my hands HE'S SOOOO#god damnit melvin you're making your girlfriend cry STOP BEING SO YOU PLEASE#he's. so pretty and handsome and bbdbfhfbjdffjdfd#i've been talking about my f/os so much recently i'm so sorry ><#gonna. try and fall asleep but my heart is literally beating so hard right now skjfkjds
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yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad
#first of all...... treat kids with the grace + patience you wish you had been given when you were one. just. in general#second.....#god forbid a 16 year old have flaws...! especially when part of the boisterous energy is because she is masking#she has a very strong love for her home to the point she's gone into unknown territory#entirely in over her head! but she refuses to give up#it's an interesting way to look at how patriotism can affect a person when you look at the differing views of protecting wutai that her and#godo have. i'm so interested to see how 'a miserable daughter's homecoming' is gonna go in remake pt 3#given that we know they want to expand on wutai more than they could in the OG#remake intermission as well has been rolling around in my head bc i think its interesting that sonon still wants godo to be respected but#yuffie very much is like. nah fuck that old drunkard idgaf. at least thats how it comes across#i've always felt like the kleptomania was allowed to bloom because she didn't receive enough care or support on top of the patriotism from#young age... so the intermission dialogue makes me wonder if we'll delve into that potentially being the truth in part 3#anyway... rebirth gave such good yuffie + party sibling moments im excited to get more in part 3#especially with vincent because they're one of the funniest not-quite uncle and niece combos#yuffie ringing vincent post-AC and then he goes to cloud like 'tell her that's illegal' instead of just replying to her normally 💀funny af#pettiness off the charts. i adore their 'i do care about you greatly but i'd also sell you to satan for one (1) corn chip' dynamic#ultimately you like and dislike whatever characters#but its always worth looking past the surface level. you may discover that the layers have a unique charm to them#and if the charms don't appeal after that? well at least you now have a better understanding of the character. win/win#god knows i've tried to like characters and came out of diving into their facets -still- not liking them. but more often than not it#gives me some new appreciation of the character. because the depth is there you just have to put the effort in to connect the dots#(this was spurred on by brainless takes i saw in general chat of a public discord. yes i know. my own fault for looking in a godless place)#these tags are 2 short to add proper nuance to my thoughts but you get the idea. this has been my once in a blue moon ramble post o7#might delete later i just wanted the thoughts expelled teehee <3
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I'm really tired, I'm thinking about Jenkins, I'm having a weird time
#I just have too many thoughts about him#in general#but especially right now#I'm too sleepy for this#I'm gonna make myself cry#(we watched the last two episodes yesterday so I'm still a bit upset 😭)#jenkins 🥺#I think I would totally ship him and cassandra by the way. if I wasn't. you know. insane levels of obsessed with him#like no can't do that that's my guy#but I see it#I definitely do. maybe one day when this is over#but right now? nope that's my guy and I'm making out with him in my head sorry cassandra 😔#personal
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Currently battling with some psychological barriers regarding posting my art on here but just know that the piece I'm working on currently is a banger and I am excited to share it w you guys
#ramblings of a lunatic#ofc then there's the fear that ppl wont match your energy w/ their engagement but also#i feel. dumb for caring? bc im a staunch believer that youre under no obligation to like/rb certain things#I'm just paranoid bc all my last few toh art pieces have gone. overlooked? ig??#i shouldn't put so much stock in ppl interacting with my stuff for sure but at this moment in time i don't know how to stop#I'm getting better about making art for myself but i still do want to share some (if not most) of it#ofc then there's also the mental pressure I've invented that bc fandoms tend to wind down after a show ends (boooo!)#that means i have an arbitrary time limit on when i can get all my ideas out and post things#which is DUMB!!!! THAT'S STUPID!!!!! but I'm still struggling to internalize that it's not Real#OUGH. there's a whole lot goin on in my head rn#swamped with school but also I'm really close to finishing all my coursework#the general low level anxiety and concern that goes on in the back of my mind at all times#the fact that despite all the pre-grieving I've done I'm STILL not done being upset abt the owl show ending#I'm fighting low level demons rn but like. there's a few. 3-4 imps#but like i said even if ppl don't like/see the next bit of art i post i think I'll still be proud of it? deep down??? somewhere???????????#i kind of have to be for my own sanity. lmao <3#anyway april 1st is almost over where i am. goodbye april fools hello dread
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#smile at people #a majority of the time people will smile back and you win Human Points #learn how to compliment people and do it often #Normalcy is a perspective that changes depending on who is looking but kindness and a positive attitude shows the same view to everyone #basic politeness with a little extra effort is amazingly difficult at times #but it goes MILES
Genuinely good advice from @aroace-get-out-of-my-face
can someone recommend some beginner normal behaviors for someone looking to become normal
#life advice#autistic stuff#and anybody who finds this hard which is pretty much everybody#would also add learning the functions and skills of small talk#yes i know i know it's evil it's horrible when nobody told you how#but get this: it's just social glue#it's the human equivalent of hyenas lowing to each other or crows clicking to each other#it's just “hello i exist you are in my social circle i accept your existence and please know that i don't hate you”#and it's got some fairly basic first-level rules too!! You intiate the greeting (Hello/hi/howdy/good evening/etc depending on context – yea#that dependency can be a bit trickier to learn but if you think of social structure it helps; e.g. this human supposedly ranks higher than#me and has not spoken to me before so i need to say “hello” instead of “wassup”)#and then you say “how are you?” or the less formal “how's it going?” (meaning: *I am initiating small talk*) and they will say “I'm alright#you?” (meaning: *I accept your move to small talk and value your input*) and you say “I'm okay” (NOT meaning: I am actually okay – but#rather *I appreciate your acceptance of my move to small talk and respect you so I will complete this ritual*)#in some cases people will go into a bit more detail – typically in response to “How's it going?” or “How've you been?” rather than “How are#you?” (in less formal contexts e.g. between friends) – and say something like#“Yeah I'm doing alright; had a lot of stuff on this week so I'm looking forward to a break!” and this is where you employ your Sympathetic#Vocalisation (“mm yeah” (solemn. nod head towards them at medium speed a couple of times)#BUT. you do not dwell on this. they will probably ask you “what about you?” afterwards and here you say something like “I'm good; I've got#some pasta I'm looking forward to eating tonight” (or any other bland mundane thing about your life. note: you CAN lie. not extravagantly#but you can say “Yeah I'm great; been busy too but gotta stay on your toes eh?” when you actually want to collapse right now#generally people react well to either positivity or wry humour at your negative experience#like: either bring out something that's a minor good thing and refer to that (see example character's “looking forward to a break”)#or if that's too fake for you you can mention something you're struggling with light heartedly (see: staying on toes example)#generally though people do not want to actually discuss each other's lives here. just social glue! just the “I acknowledge you and wish to#instigate/reaffirm a social bond in this situation so we can then get onto the real stuff or leave with stronger social connections”#anyway that's like the first basic step it; does tend to get a little less straight forward the further you go in#but I've found it a great skill to learn#and once I realised it was in fact a skill just like ice skating or acting or writing i was like ahah! i can learn this!!#and show off like a kid on a skateboard every single day!
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You're more amazing than paper
I've been making a lot of builds on Monster Hunter, but some weapons that I want to play don't need any/many skills to work, just a charm and/or a few decorations, so the armor doesn't matter. I decided to make a generic armor set, and wondered what skills to put on it for 2 seconds before I remembered that this game has a million ways to stun you, so I made a build that's immune to them all*
#asks#i only have 4 out of 5 levels of Windproof and i don't have Flinch Free or Paralysis Res#and i know that sounds like i'm missing a lot but i have Stun Res and Tremor Res and Earplugs because those are way more common#i can just adjust the decorations to counter wind or paralysis if i'm fighting a monster that has that#and flinch... i don't think that's very common? it's at least not nearly as big of a deal as the others#certainly common in multiplayer tho so maybe i'll try to work it in#but mainly just stun tremor and roar are the big ones and wind is in 4th place and is mostly covered anyway#i also have another generic set that doesn't care about the weapon: my evasion set#but that one requires the Evasion Mantle. the stun-proof set only needs the armor and only kinda needs the decorations#so i have the weapon tool and charm slots totally free to customize#perfectly generic!#my first use of it was for my stamina-boost kinsect glaive with a blunt kinsect#the strat is to mark the monster's head and then let the kinsect stay out as long as possible to get blunt hits and hopefully stun#only tried it once and only got one stun but i didn't even use the Impact Mantle and it was a low health monster so idk
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#i feel like my writing has just gotten so much worse over the past couple of years#i genuinely can't tell if it is just my general self esteem issues making me think that#or if it actually has gotten worse#i read other peoples fic and i'm like wow this is just. on another level than what i'm capable of#i've been in this spiral lately where every time i try to write something i get so in my head about it just being worthless#like what do i write? plotless drivel#and if it's not plotless drivel it's poorly executed#and i keep seeing so many posts of people complaining about ooc fics for the fandoms i'm writing in and it just. it gets to me#i think i need a break#negative tw#lamp.txt
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and god help you if you're not binary trans and then god DOUBLE help you if you're not nb "the right way" aka "so basically i'm a third binary gender that looks exactly half way between girl and boy also i'm completely 100% human and 100% desire to be human and only human and just as invested in picking Gender Team to be on as everyone else because we all know the only thing that exists or matters in the universe is baseball and exactly what baseball team role you define your existence by permanently without ever even considering anything else right?"
the Trans Experience in our society is being treated like schrodinger's gender. you're a woman when they wanna deny you agency and a man when they wanna deny you support. this is an experience that unites nearly all of us, whether transmasc, transfem, or something else.
#most people even in queer spaces don't even believe you exist then. at best you get treated like woman lite#(but only if you were considered female originally. if not then you get treated like “disguised man(derogatory)”#even by people who otherwise aren't fond of terfs)#and good fucking luck trying to explain any relationship with identity stranger/more complicated/GOD FORBID more distant#than the afformentioned 'i'm the third binary gender'#without *every single* other Not Straight/Cis person on earth IMMEDIATELY deciding on some level that you're just a narcissistic cis poser#and if you're very lucky they will be polite enough not to say so to your face immediately upon every interaction#but will still continue to treat all of your opinions and inclusion under their umbrella as a polite afterthought the existence of which#is entirely dependent on you never actually saying anything or having any opinions or needs/wants in general#and never attempting to actually *use* any of that Queer “Community” Cred or expect to have like. voting rights within said “community”#well allow you to pretend you're one of us so long as you sit down shut up and don't expect us to ever actually give you a club creditcard#purely for our own convenience of course. but when the chips are down you'll be our meatshield and we expect you to thank us#for even allowing you to be that much in our presence#and xenogenders? voidpunk? even the most basic types of multigender/fluid? god for your own safety just fucking forget about it.#half the lgbtqa+ population will consider your very existence personally offensive enough to actively want to explode you with their mind#and the other half will condescendingly pat you on the head and assume you're a furry and/or that you're only like this because autism#as if it's any of their damn business#and the good old universal fallback “anyone who likes/thinks/feels a thing i think is weird can only possibly be doing it because fetish”#i still rememebr years ago when people were clamoring for a trans npc on flight rising but ignoring that scribbles was right there#because scribbles is they/them nonbinary so they “don't count”#people still don't count them last i saw#in the same breath they were insisting galore (a cis man character to my knowledge) absolutely HAD to be trans because#“the shape of his eyesockets looks too female” which is uncomfortably reminiscent of just straight up terf bone structure arguments
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NSFW Sevika HCs
𖢻 ~ ~ ~ 𖢻
A/n: i haven't written any smut in god knows how long so pls go easy yall 😭
𖢻 ~ ~ ~ 𖢻
This is a dom
I love indulging in the bottom!sevika content when i come across it, it's beautiful, showstopping
But bby, you only get to do what she lets you do. Even when she's on bottom, you're never really the one in charge, no matter how you might try to convince yourself
She's a terrible tease, and has an absolutely filthy mouth. Loves watching your jaw drop slightly when she whispers things in public, and how you scramble to gather yourself
Her self-control and patience is absolutely insane. She's not one to jump your pants at the first tease you give her.
She'll let you have her fun, all while running the tip of her tongue across a canine and plotting her revenge
Gets a big head/ego if you call her mommy. Nearly loses her mind and reputation for restraint if you call her daddy
A lot of her turn-ons are things that aren't inherently sexual. I like to think she's attracted to both masc and fem-presenting people, and anything leaning deeper into these characteristics will get a rise out of her.
Ex.'s -> watching you put on makeup in the mornings, specifically lipstick/gloss. Conversely, how your thighs look and your face hardens when you manspread while striking a deal. When you look up at her and rest your hands on her chest. When you lean back and rest your arm over the back of her chair
Particularly masculine and particularly feminine things. She eats up both
Absolutely a bit of a sadist/madochist. We know this from the whole cait thing
She's obsessed with your mouth in particular. The marks you leave, the shapes it makes with certain sounds she pulls from you, how your lips wrap around her fingers when she teases your mouth open with them
She rarely ever has you on your back because she wants to watch your tongue loll and your eyes roll
Goes crazy for certain things you say when you start to reach melted brain levels of fucked out; "baby, it's too much…" "Sevi, i can't keep going" "no, baby, no more…" it's like a second wave. And, (always) only with your emphatic consent, she'll proceed to push your body even more
Her favorite position is missionary i'm sorry lmfao. Vanilla in theory, but definitely doesn't feel like it when she's slinging that shimmerstrap LOL
I HC she's generally pretty gentle with you, at least lovesick!sevika is. In the sense that she's not tossing you around or slapping your ass purple.
Rather, she'll wrap her hand around your throat but not really squeeze. And she'll push her fingers down your throat until you're teary-eyed, but she won't fuck your throat until it's raw and sore.
She prefers using her hands and her mouth, but her strap game is insane. That stroke would be hypnotic to watch.
Her eyes read clearly when it comes to intimacy. The way they darken and narrow when she's about to pounce on you, and how they always get so glossy and self-satisfied (if not a bit smug) as she watches you cum.
Her crows feet crease as she smiles down at you, whispering "good job, baby" and "there's my girl, you're okay. I've got you."
Always insists on taking care of you afterwards, but won't fight you on it if you flip it on her and make her lay back so you can clean her up
In fact, please do this. She'll think about it for weeks
Cuddles you afterward like she's trying to burrow in your skin. Can't get enough of the smell of you post-sex, burying her nose in your neck and your hair
Yeah, she's never sharing you. Everything about you is too precious, too hers.
She demands hickeys/lipstick marks on her chest- over her heart- because your claim over her deepens her own.
#arcane#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika headcanon#BOOMSHAKALAKA YES GODD YES GODDD#ubebones writing
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Writing Female Fighters
The Heroine Must. Fight.
Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.
Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.
Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.
Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty
The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.
A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.
On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.
She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.
A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.
In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.
In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.
Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.
More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness
In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.
Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.
Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.
A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"
A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."
Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.
She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.
When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.
Plausible Skills and Backstory
In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.
For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.
It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.
It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.
Inexperienced Female Fighters
A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:
Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.
Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.
Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)
Pull hair
Scratch.
In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.
Plausible Weapons and Clothing
All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).
Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.
When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.
For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.
For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.
A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.
She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.
She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.
Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.
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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how I think the boys from love and deepspace would give a first kiss :3
warnings: suggestive content (obviously?), writing might be out of character, spoilers in general, i get carried away explaining everything because i'm afraid of being accused of mischaracterisation
[story spoiler] first kiss = first kiss where mc is a hunter/the timeline in game
authors notes: i have favourites and it will show CLEARLY in my writing… sorry (not sorry no1 rafayel stan) and i am a yapper
characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus
link to my master list here!!
more below the cut :3
sorry rafayel... but i feel like he's the most unskilled at kisses because - hear me out - you're his very first kiss. lemurians as a species seem to value bonds and loyalty, and as the literal sea god he wasn't able to nor wanted to just hook up or mess around - he's looking for devotion!!!
(okay, we ignore the kiss in forgotten sea myth story because like come on there was literally no romance mc was drowning)
definitely waits a while before kissing you, rayafel really takes his time to fall into place. after all, he needs to make sure his beloved bride/groom is well and truly his!!!
the type to wait for the ‘right moment’ - but doesn’t force or stage it ykwim? like the time comes naturally - e.g. watching the sunset, or you’re leaning close to him whilst he’s painting
he’s a romantic 100% like there’s a reason his 'floral promise' card was (imo) way fluffier compared to the others - like xavier's was tender-ish but rafayel was fucking melting
he's a sweet talker I just know it.
that charm he uses on his clients? he doesn't want to nor will he manipulate you with it but you know he's going to ramp up the charm to tease you a little
definitely knows his effect on you and uses it to his full advantage (cough cough fiery undercurrents secret times) like whispering in your ear, making excuses to touch you or get close to you
(i think he’d be more 'traditional' because of lemurian customs - the whole bonding + [forgotten sea spoilers] the sea god ceremony where the mc must devote themselves to rafayel displaying a strong level of devotion)
SUCH A GENTLE KISSER OMG like compared to his almost bratty and childish personality he’s a gentleman when it comes to kisses (also because he's kind of unsure what to do...)
the type to tuck strand of your hair behind your ear, fiddle with it a little maybe twirl it around his finger before trailing a finger along your jawline... i can see him like massaging your ear too? idk how to describe it he's a handsy man
first kiss was definitely more sweet than passionate ugawhriulgs he's such a cutie
right after the first kiss i think he’d be pretty affectionate, rather than bratty/tsundere since for him to kiss someone i believe he’d really need to love them (and therefore is more open to being vulnerable)
affectionate as in saying something cheesy probably, commenting on how you tasted or another one of his poetic, artistic quotes (dw raf we love it)
wouldn't be satisfied with just one after that, i can see him going in for a more passionate second and even a third (i mean look at his 'floral promise' memory OR 'fiery undercurrents') in the same few minutes
these follow up kisses would probably be longer and way less chaste, hands moving from tilting your chin up to your waist ahahahahahuwfa
you'd have to show him the appeal of tongue if that's your thing because he's seen it before but never really saw what was nice about it
"But... you're just drinking each other's saliva?" "Rafayel that's hot-"
definitely relived the moment in his head hundreds of times after that night - and you bet your ass he painted a piece inspired from your first kiss with him
any kisses after that i feel like they would follow this default pattern;
if he initiated the kiss i think he’d be more cocky and teasing, especially if he surprised you with one and he sees your flustered face
“Didn’t expect that huh, cutie?”
if you surprised him, however, get ready for typical rafayel childish behaviour, blushing and averting his eyes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a pout
“Hey- what was that for!!” Σ(・□・;)
either way rafayel is the worlds silliest man and would cave into literally anything with just a few kisses from you
ALSO KISS HIS COLLAR BONES AND YOU'VE GOT A WHOLE NEW SCENARIO TO UNFOLD
oh i just have a feeling this man is devouring you because puh-LEASEE?? sir we aren't forgetting your 'tender night' card i know that night was anything but tender
xavier is the definition of pent-up desire because this man has been waiting a LONG time and he's not going to be able to hold back very well
(taking heavy inspiration from his '21 days' memory because with his reaction it kind of feels like his first kiss with mc... but tbh i don't know much about xavi)
he's definitely not shy when it comes down to it, yeah he gets flustered if he thinks about it because of course imagining kissing the person he's pined over for centuries is going to fluster the shit out of him but he doesn't shy away form the idea or avoid the topic in conversation
i feel like he'd bring it up casually - like in the 'partner go go' event (aka heartbreaker-chasing-rhythm-game event) he was so insistent on the 'kissing page'
mc was like "apparently you can solve arguments with a kiss" and this mf straight up said "we can argue then" this man is STARVED
i feel like you'd need to initiate the kiss or give him very clear signs you'd be okay with a kiss for it to happen, i don't know why i just feel like he's that type of person
the first kiss is deep despite him trying his best to hold back - you can just feel his desire and longing oozing out of him and he's definitely on fucking cloud nine
xavier's holding your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek and god damn he's good at kissing where the fuck did he learn this from?
the type to break the kiss and then fucking bulldoze into the next one and my god his restraints have broken and he's actually kissing you as if it's the last thing he's able to do on earth
100% a tongue user he's biting at your bottom lip before slipping it in the sly minx
after the kiss he's more flustered than he expected to be - kissing the love of his life (literally) sends him into a flurry of emotions he's never really experienced before
given how possessive xavier is i wouldn't be surprised if halfway through making out he managed to leave a hickey or two in very. visible. places.
he isn't even pretending to feel guilty in the slightest, a smug grin as he shrugs out a half-assed apology.
"Sorry, I guess you'll have to try hide it. Or don't, that would be easier."
if you leave any marks on him he's not leaving you along that night. forget sleeping you two are recreating 'tender night' ALL night.
but seriously, if you leave hickeys over his neck (his canonical sensitive area and where he feels vulnerable) he's going to go crazy because what do you mean you want everyone to know he's yours??? what do you mean you want him as much as he wants you??
tldr; xavier is unusually talented with his mouth and is desperate to prove it to you.
i accidentally wrote way more for xavier than i expected i even cut out some bits holy crap maybe i’m more into xavi than i thought
oh no... zayne you beautiful man i am so sorry... (here comes the one character i have no idea how to characterise + no clue about his lore zayne fans pls bear with me)
okay - zayne looks like a gentleman and i'm sure he very much is even in intimate moments, but i cannot get rid of the idea that his first kiss w you was lowk spicyyyyy
like OH MY GOD I JUST WATCHED SNOWY SERENITY RN I FUCKIGN KNEW IT
that man was pouncing on you in a hospital bed, dishevelled, and kissing you deep my god like the type of kiss that literally as you forgetting where you are
i feel like zayne would be the one to initiate the kiss, again no idea why maybe i'm falling into the dominant zayne agenda
you're probably surprised when he kisses you because he's usually so composed, the 'cold unfeeling' dr zayne - then suddenly he's panting and pushing himself on top of you (consensually of course), pinning you down and going to town.
when he kisses you i don't think he's much of a lip biter, but if you bite his lips or lick at him or anything he's not opposed, as long as your lips are on his and vice versa
after the first kiss he's going straight into another one, his patience has thinned to the point of snapping and now he just needs you.
his hands what does he do with his hands? i'm thinking the typical otome face hold, gentle grasp juxtaposing his fervent kisses LOL
now, why does he kiss you?? how does this all build up? unfortunately all i can think of to match this scenario is something angsty or something along the lines of zayne has fucking had it and all he wants is you
"I need you... please."
this is the type of kiss where he wants to drown in you, breathe you in and just smother his being into yours to forget and erase whatever else is happening/happened
if he's kissing you and pinning you down and you bring up your hand to interlock fingers with him - your warm hands against his cool hands? wow his kissing is all of a sudden even more passionate.
after the little make out session he's going to go all mushy on you, physical affection of an embrace something uncharacteristic of him to match his dishevelled state
in kisses after the first i like the idea that he checks your pulse mid make-out and just silently smirks/chuckles when he notices it's faster and more erratic than usual
"Why are you nervous, this isn't our first time."
he also has this sneaky habit of whispering incredibly close to your ear, the reason why i choose to point this out it because i feel like sometimes he uses his evol to his advantage to like, breathe out cool air on your neck/ear and likes to watch you shiver
the ultimate dominant figure if you try to kiss him first and take control he somehow manages to overcome you and take the lead without using his strength, just good ol' sweet talking and technique
congratulations, you managed to snatch a kiss from the renown leader sylus!!!
i can see why people would think he's promiscuous or a fuck-boy because honestly i see it, but imo just because he is more flirtatious, assertive and... responsive (try tapping his... crotch... in the café LOL) does NOT = play boy
to me it just shows that - unlike the other LIs - sylus is just more forward with his approach, he has that devil-may-care like feel to him ykwim?
"Do I like you? What type of question is that, isn't it obvious? Or do I need to show you?" is much different to "Hey baby girl lemme rock your world tnite xx"
but just because he's got a 'fuck-all' attitude doesn't mean he fucks around with random people, he's 1. got standards and 2. living in the n109 zone?? do you THINK he can afford to let random people close just to fuck???
that being said i don't think he's a kiss virgin, just very selective and honest man when it comes to love and physical intimacy
now, when i say he isn't a fuckboy, that doesn't mean i don't believe in cocky-smugass-know-it-all sylus - he kisses well. and with PASSION. and probably the worst part is that he knows it.
first kiss with sylus? i can't imagine him making a large fuss about it like rafayel, nor it having to be some "i'm-at-deaths-door-and-need-to-kiss-you-atleast-once" situation like zayne, but no matter where or when you two share a first kiss he is making sure you remember
that being said, there was definitely a LOT of romantic and sexual tension between you and sylus for at least weeks before the kiss, i mean the air was thick with suggestive glances and denial
i think you two'd have to already be in close proximity which is very easy to achieve with sylus (touchiest man award goes to him) for the first kiss to initiate
he's grabbing your waist, or your face, makings sure your eyes are on. him. as you two kiss. watching with delight no matter what reactions you have, he admires you through surprised and flustered to confident and defiant
rather than a tender first kiss it’s probably a full blown make out session, just desire and lust flooding out of the both of you after having built up for over a month.
assertive does not mean he's going to force a kiss on you to clear this up, more that he likes to take the initiative and take control as you two kiss <3
yeah he's into biting (wow what a big shock) - likes biting your ear, or neck, or bottom lip, one time he tried nipping at your tongue too.
you can bite him back, he likes it.
"Hah, looks like someone is baring their claws tonight..." he’s really into that whole cat thing huh.
what does mr sylus do with his hands? waist, hips, ass, around your neck, pulling your face in by squeezing your cheeks, fingers threading through the hair on the back of your head, you name it he does it. again, i think sylus is a touchy man.
he doesn't mind if you try to take control, just dont expect to be successful. different to zayne - as in he will overcome your control with his evol and strength…
inappropriate use of his evol has occurred (he ‘tied’ you up and made out with you (CONSENSUALLY))
after his affinity 15 (i think) memory i can just tell he’s freaky with it bruhhh so yeah handcuffs are probably something he indulges in
if you’re persistent or physically overcome sylus you might get rewarded with a resigned, more submissive sylus
the idea or sight of someone man handling/overcoming his strength really sets him off.. i mean have you seen “no defence zone”?? but you’re really going to need to work to get him to this stage, and he’s going to have to love you
“No one’s ever seen me like this, lying on my back and begging for you.”
secretly finds out through you that he enjoys being dominated (BRAT SYLUS FOR 2024) so climb on top of him and kiss him until he’s blushing and panting hahahahahaha
tldr: sylus isn’t a fuck-boy but he sure kisses like one
AN; as an ao3 writer may say, no beta we die like caleb i wrote half of this when i was half asleep LMAOO anyways i hope this was okay please dont attack me BYE
#✧⁺ writing#love and deepspace#lnds#lnd imagine#lnd rafayel imagine#rafayel x you#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#lnds xavier#lnd xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#lads xavier#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne x mc#lnds zayne#zayne x you#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lnds x reader#lnds spoilers
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more phoenix wright situations
#unnecessary addition.#ppl liked this a lot - thank you pffggghh...#i will be drawing more AA over christmas bc i am dwelling a lot. i love kristoph as a character bc he really does get his comeuppance#him convinced that he's been playing this dark flirty obsessive chess game with phoenix all these years they were suspecting each other#and that one kiss signified that phoenix Owes him for yet another thing - realising he is queer - when like...#you were just another single element in phoenix realising he wants to be with another man for the rest of his life#that would be the most abject humiliation for kristoph - just another instance where he isn't nearly as significant as he thinks he is#and will end up in prison - while phoenix ends up happily and sweetly married as he deserves...#i don't usually spend much time thinking about characters i don't at all respect but he's just so GAY...and does get his comeuppance.#obsessed with the part in game where HE brings up how other ppl wouldnt see a man as 'self-respecting' if he wears fancy nail polish#this man is one of those homophobic homosexuals. he literally wouldn't be happy if gay marriage became legalised#and phoenix shares that with him while visiting him in prison with the glint of edgeworth's wedding band#he liked feeling like he was seducing straight men to the dark side.. what a fascinating and foolish person#again - i don't care for villains much - qifrey is the most morally questionable level i usually could get attached to#but when they're GAY...and their crimes are like idiot murders they ultimately get apprehended for rather than being like. Creepy to women#Well examining and then defeating such a man is fulfilling. Oooh thought turning phoenix bi was your funniest victory didn't you.#He has been head over heels for another prissy rich boy since primary school..you are nothing#i also don't really care at all about klavier despite respecting him far more than his brother obviously#and klapollo seems pretty real but i truly do not care i'd rather think about kristoph. klavier is not my kind of character#those two really represent how the far less morally respectable character can be far more fun to think about and examine at times🤔#i do get confused when others seem loopy for nasty characters i find reprehensible bc i don't find reprehensibility interesting#but i mean we all enjoyed scar in the lion king. if a spiralling villain is unnecessarily gay i'm glad he's there#kristoph is the scar archetype. gay awful brothers who are really pissed off that nobody cares about them#becoming less and less deserving of anyone caring about them the more they secretly murder people#Like what is wrong with you for real.#also thinking deeply today on how narumitsu was designed by a BL manga creator and were always designed to be BL i love them#ace attorney is a childhood thing to me. christmassy childhood thing. love that they age w/ me. canonically they're my generation. Love it
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lock and key | s.r.
in which an act of violence - and subsequent serious injury - brings the truth to the surface and initiates a change
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: abduction, car accident, knife, stabbing, stabbing with knife, greek mythology, jareau!reader, rewrite of 8x12 "zugzwang" (just because maeve isn't here doesn't mean i'm letting spencer get by trauma-free), the girls who get it, get it, secret relationship, hospitals, not proofread, yes the zugzwang thing gets dropped but that's because it was never the kidnapper it was always the replicator, did i miss something probably but i can't see straight rn word count: 4.86k a/n: i rewrote this entire fic because i decided i didn't like it two hours before it was supposed to go up. and now here we are. almost 5k words later. it's 2:30 a.m. going back to my jareau!reader roots and rewriting an entire episode.
He frowned at the text that you’d just sent him. Just one word, a chess term. Spencer wasn’t entirely sure you knew what it meant, more so, he wasn’t sure why you’d text it to him at seven-thirty in the morning.
He’d expected you to beat him to the office this morning, knowing you left his apartment before the sun had the chance to rise so you could get a fresh change of clothes and repack your go bag. Your apartment was closer to Quantico, so it wasn’t presumptuous of him to assume you would make it there first.
Spencer stood corrected when he walked in, finding your desk completely devoid of your active presence. He looked around for you briefly, knowing you sometimes liked to catch up on sleep in JJ’s old liaison office when you were the first to arrive in the morning, but all he found was your sister, a scowl on her face while she spoke with Hotch in his office.
The two of them noticed him lurking, Hotch opening the door and nodding at him in greeting, “Let’s meet in the roundtable room, Garcia’s waiting for us.”
“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, following them around the walkway to the briefing room, only receiving a shake of the head from JJ in response.
Penelope looked disturbed in a way that Spencer hadn’t seen her in years. That much made sense to him, the only reason Hotch would start a briefing before the rest of the team got here was if there was a case that matched the level of urgency. “This morning the FBI system was tripped because Y/N’s location was glitching. It flashed from Los Angeles to Moscow to Cancun until finally settling on an unmarked location somewhere in this general area.”
Spencer frowned, looking at the map that was being displayed on the screen in front of him, “That’s nearly eight hundred miles of ground to cover.”
Sighing, Garcia nodded, “Because of whatever the UnSub did to hack into the locator in her phone, we can’t get an accurate location. I’m working on refining it, but that could take hours.”
A pit settled in Spencer’s chest as he looked over at JJ, a dark, hollow look on her face as she stared at her phone. He couldn’t commiserate with her—nobody knew the two of you were even dating. “JJ,” Hotch spoke up, “You were the last person to see her before you left yesterday, did she say anything about going to meet someone or do anything?”
JJ blinked in confusion, “No, she didn’t tell me about any plans or…” Her voice trailed off, “I think she was seeing someone knew. She’s been acting different, being cagey about plans.”
Blake and Rossi walked into the bullpen, their arrival catching Hotch’s attention as he stepped out of the roundtable room to speak with them. Spencer followed, “Hotch.”
“I know, Reid,” he said, holding his hand up in a waiting gesture. Of course, he did, because in your tirade to hide your relationship from the general public, you had insisted on telling Hotch, wanting to get the HR paperwork out of the way.
Spencer sighed, the pit in his chest growing exponentially as he turned back into the roundtable room, slipping his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Garcia, “I got a text this morning from Y/N,” he explained, his eyes following his teammates as they filtered into the room. “It came in after her phone’s location was hacked.”
Shaking her head, JJ looked over at Spencer, “Why would she text you first thing in the morning?”
He shrugged in response, “I’m not entirely sure,” he half-lied. “I do know what the word used in the message means. Zugzwang. It’s the term used in chess when a player realizes they’ll inevitably be checkmated.”
“When did the two of them break up?” Hotch asked, looking over at JJ for the answer to his question.
They were headed to speak with your ex-boyfriend, there was nothing they had found that would implicate him in your disappearance, but it was the best chance they had at a lead. Spencer bit his tongue to stop himself from revealing the answer.
JJ hummed, “A while ago, a year maybe? She didn’t really talk about it, one day, she just stopped bringing him up.”
Sixteen months, nearly to the date, it was a few days past at that point since the night you’d called Spencer in tears, needing him to pick you up from the same house that the SUV was pulling up to now. The two of you had been together for nearly a year, on and off again, before he finally snapped.
Some of the things he said to you were things that you’d never repeated, even to Spencer. Pulling into the driveway made him feel sick to his stomach as he recalled the way you cried in his apartment that night.
“Reid?” JJ’s voice broke through his reminiscence, she had already gotten out of the car, standing outside and waiting for Spencer to step out before the three of them approached the porch.
He reached into his pocket for his credentials, staying at the back of the pack while Hotch knocked on the door before pulling his badge out. Your ex-boyfriend opened the door, “Hello?” He was confused, rightfully so—it wasn’t every day that a group of FBI agents showed up at your front door. He eyed Hotch and JJ before he met Spencer’s eyes. Garrett’s eyes narrowed, “You.”
Hotch’s head snapped to the side, glaring at Spencer for a moment before facing forward, “Garrett Graves?” The Unit Chief’s voice was commanding, staring at your ex with a preconceived notion that your relationship had fallen apart because of him. He was the leader of the team, and he took any attack against the members of his team personally.
“Yes?” He said, obviously bewildered at the sight of the agents on his porch, “Where’s Y/N?”
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, JJ looked up at Garrett, “That’s what we’d like to ask you.”
Spencer had to give him credit, Garrett looked absolutely stunned at your sister’s revelation, but nothing that Spencer knew about him led him to believe he’d act innocent if he was truly guilty. He had the personality type that would confess to the abduction but lead the BAU on a wild goose chase from an interrogation room.
No, the person who had you didn’t want to be caught, and he didn’t want the team to find you. This interview would be a waste of his time, there was absolutely no information about you that Garrett could provide. Spencer knew every important, esoteric detail about you—your ex-boyfriend wouldn’t have anything useful for him.
Garrett peered back at Spencer, “I’m sure anything you want to know, he can tell you,” he said, bitterness altering his tone.
Hotch looked over his shoulder to Spencer, “Why don’t you sit this one out?”
Ignoring the fact that he had just been told to kick rocks, Spencer retreated to the SUV, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the passenger door while JJ and Hotch were invited inside the house. He hoped you weren’t somewhere outside, the temperatures dropped to below freezing at night this time of year, and he didn’t remember you wearing a jacket when you left his apartment this morning.
Finally alone—away from your sister, at least—Spencer had a moment to process the reality of his situation. You were missing, likely abducted as a result of your job, and he didn’t even have an exact time to go off. His chest felt tight in a way it hadn’t in years, the sheer joy of knowing he had you in his life felt like it was fading away because he didn’t have you. He had no idea where you were, and for a brief moment, he considered the fact that the loss of you might kill him too.
You were the only one who knew how to bring him back down to earth anymore. Snapping him back to reality whenever he started to spiral.
This time, the sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his Charybdis of fear, “Hello,” he answered the phone, holding the device to his ear as he pretended the last five minutes of thought had never happened.
“Hey, kid,” Derek greeted over the phone, an unavoidable solemn note in his voice. “Garcia managed to track down Y/N’s car, it’s down on a side street, it looks like she was avoiding the highway.”
Spencer looked down at his shoes, “The exit that she needs to take to get to her apartment closes for construction at night.” The explanation flew from his mouth before he could remember that he wasn’t supposed to know that, but his brain was moving at an altered pace right now, unable to think past anything other than finding you.
The other line was silent for a moment, “Right,” Derek said doubtfully. “It looks like someone rear-ended her,” he noted, the sound of cars rushing by cluing Spencer into the traffic.
“That time of night on that road it would’ve needed to be on purpose, there’s no reason to be following someone that closely on an empty street,” Spencer processed the information, pulling up a map in his head of the area where your car was. “So, it was a bump and grab,” Spencer thought aloud, it wasn’t a particularly sophisticated crime, but with all of the other evidence, he hadn’t expected it to be.
Morgan reaffirmed his suspicions, “I’m surprised she wasn’t more on edge that early in the morning. What do you think she was doing all the way out here anyway?”
His stomach churned; you had been leaving his apartment. It was his fault you had been out there at that time. “It was early, her inhibitions were down, she was probably tired,” he rambled off. “Besides, you heard JJ, she thinks she has a boyfriend,” he bit out.
“Uh huh,” Derek responded, “And what do you think about that?”
Leaning his head back, Spencer stared at the sky, “Did you find her phone? Was it in the car?”
There was no way Derek didn’t get why Spencer ignored his question, but he moved on anyway, “Yeah, that’s the other thing. There’s no sign of that text message.”
Another mystery to add to the plethora, Spencer closed his eyes and sighed, “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Kid,” Derek said, stopping Spencer from hanging up, “Why did the text go to you and not JJ? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”
Spencer paused, staring at the backs of his eyelids, “I’m not sure.” His answer, at least, was mostly truthful. It would make sense for the message to have gone to JJ, but JJ wouldn’t have understood the meaning.
That meant the person who sent the message likely knew about you and Spencer’s relationship, and that did very little to comfort him.
Helpless was not a term that Spencer liked to use to describe himself, but as the orange glow of the sunset sept into the BAU, he was beginning to feel that way. You were still missing, and with every passing moment, Spencer knew that the statistics grew increasingly bleak.
Stepping away from his computer monitor, Spencer made his way to the bathroom, he didn’t need to use it, but the silent hum of the fan was better than the constant chattering in the bullpen. Everyone imaginable had been pulled in on this case, everyone wanting to pitch in to find a missing FBI agent, but not for the first time, Spencer wished everyone would just shut up.
Turning on the tap, he cupped his hands under the water and splashed his face, focusing the cold water on his eyes, hoping they could hone his focus. He tore a paper towel from the dispenser and pressed it into his face as the door swung open, the familiar tapping of boots sounded from behind him until they stopped.
“You know, from my count, it’s been about eight months,” Rossi said, meeting Spencer’s eyes in the mirror, his hands in his pockets as he raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.
Sighing, Spencer turned off the water, “Nine,” he corrected, foregoing his usual habit of providing more precise time frame. He wasn’t surprised that Rossi had it figured out, he always did, but still, he asked, “How did you figure it out?”
Rossi shrugged, watching as Spencer moved to throw away the paper towel, “I am very good at my job.”
Spencer laughed, a mixture between a laugh and a scoff as he looked in the mirror just to find that he still looked like a disaster. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” he confessed, the first time he had let his desolation truly show to any member of the team.
“You’re gonna go back out there, and we are gonna do what we do best,” Rossi insisted, “We help the people who need us.”
Nodding, Spencer took a deep breath before heading back out to the bullpen, following Penelope through the glass doors as the technical analyst made her way over to JJ. It shouldn’t bother him that everyone went to JJ first, but it did, even though no one knew any better. “Does the last name Delphino mean anything to you?”
JJ frowned in response, “No, why—should it?”
His lips parted, not worrying about holding himself back, “Paul Delphino is the name of Y/N’s next-door neighbor.”
Garcia made a dinging noise, quickly moving on to continue her explanation, “Paul Delphino did not show up for work this morning. Why is this significant? His family, the Delphinos, owns a lot of commercial property in the DMV and a suspicious 911 call just came in from one of those properties stating that there’s a light on in a building that is slated for demolition tomorrow. The caller said they heard screaming coming from the building.”
Hotch looked around at the team, “Morgan contact SWAT. JJ, Morgan, you’re with me, Blake, Reid, with Rossi. Garcia, send the address to our phones.” Everyone was already moving as he distributed orders, heading to the elevator, and getting one step closer to you.
He’s been watching you for months. From the exact moment he moved into the apartment next to yours, Paul declared himself your soulmate. You recognized his name when you first met, and it came up in one of your late-night Wikipedia binges. Paul Delphino was a member of a disturbingly wealthy family, up until his parents disowned him for suspicious cash transactions.
Your head hurt like hell, drips of blood were encrusted along your hairline, and you were fairly convinced that you were dying. Your vision blurred around the edges when you followed the noise of your captor around the room with your eyes, your body slightly suspended in the air by your arms, standing on your tiptoes to prevent too much strain on your shoulders.
Seeking comfort in your memory, you remembered this morning, kissing your sleepy boyfriend as he tiredly asked you to stay, but you needed to go back to your own apartment. You told him you loved him, which was the truth, but you needed a morning with your things.
If needing a morning with your things led to an untimely demise, then at least the last thing you told Spencer was that you loved him.
Long, unending scratches ran down your arms and legs, they weren’t deep enough to scar, but as they scabbed over, they began to itch. Cuts and scrapes weren’t going to kill you, but the knife in your abdomen likely would.
You tried to keep yourself as still as possible, your personal experience with stab wounds was lackluster, but you knew that the blade could be preventing any further bleeding. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful that Paul couldn’t get it up, seeing as he elected to stab you for a sexual release.
The black of your t-shirt concealed any blood on your torso, so you weren’t sure exactly how much blood you’d lost, but judging by the way the world was losing its color, things weren’t looking good for you.
You breathed out slowly through your nose, watching Paul pace back and forth in front of you, faint lantern light being the only thing illuminating whatever hellscape you were in. “Paul,” you said, your voice nearly a gasp, “I need help.”
At this point, you had no idea what your plan was, seriously considering asking him to let you heal so that he could come back and stab you again in a few weeks. What else did you have to offer him? He scoffed in response, continuing his pacing until his steps faltered and he stalked over to you, causing you to flinch. “Did you call them?”
You groaned in pain, “Who the fuck could I have called?” You yelped like a wounded animal when he pulled the knife from your stomach.
He pointed the knife at your face, the metallic tang of your own blood filling your nostrils as you fought off a wave of nausea. “Why would you call the FBI on me?”
Tears flooded your eyes at his words. My sister’s here, you thought to yourself. Spencer’s here. “I didn’t,” you choked out, trying to remember how to breathe while you were dying.
Paul’s head snapped to look behind him, the rustling of SWAT and agents scaring him enough that he dropped the knife to the floor before taking off, leaving you alone in the room for someone to find.
Grunting, you tried to free your hands on your own, but you no longer had the physical strength to do anything except for hang. Tipping your head back in an attempt to keep your airway open, you called out, “JJ!”
You never thought the sight of your sister’s blonde ponytail would make tears run down your face, but as soon as she made her way into the room, saltwater left marks on your blood-stained face. “He went that way,” you jutted your head to the side, watching as the people in front of you stayed true to themselves. JJ ran off to chase Paul, and Spencer holstered his weapon to help you down.
“Hey,” he whispered, holding you while a SWAT member used a knife to undo your restraints, and Spencer caught you before your legs had a chance to give out.
You looked around the room, Morgan had gone with JJ to play cat and mouse, but Blake stayed behind with Spencer while they tried to get you sorted out. Everyone else would panic, announcing to the rest of the room that you were seemingly very slowly bleeding out would send the space into a frenzy, so you didn’t.
Spencer draped an FBI jacket over your shoulders, one of the spares that was kept in the SUVs.
“I need help,” you mumbled, your lips barely parting as you tried to save your strength to walk to an ambulance. “Spence,” you gasped, using your own hand to apply pressure to the wound.
He nodded, instinctively pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I know.” His voice was tight, and you hated yourself for doing this to him.
Groaning, you shook your head, “I’m bleeding,” you murmured, watching as realization set into his features, wavering between horror and determination, Spencer nodded at you.
“Reid?” Blake called after the two of you, now noticing the drops of blood that were where you were standing, now being tracked through the building by your shuffling footsteps.
Spencer didn’t answer her, his attention was entirely on you as he kept you upright, bringing you closer and closer to the flashing lights of the ambulance. The cold of the night burned your nose as the fresh air gave you a new sense of determination, matching Spencer’s. “I’m sorry,” you told him, but you weren’t sure he could even hear you as you approached the ambulance.
“You need to get her to a hospital,” Spencer insisted once the EMTs were in earshot, his chest heaving as your feet dragged more and more with every step. “Please,” he begged them, helping you onto a stretcher before hauling himself into the rig, a one-track mind thinking of nothing else other than getting you the help that you need.
Fifty-fifty were the odds that you gave yourself once you found a firm enough grasp on consciousness. There was a fifty percent chance you were going to open your eyes and be met with the harsh fluorescence of a hospital. There was a fifty percent chance that bastard Minos was going to send you straight to the Fields of Punishment.
You changed your bets once the scent of antiseptic burned your nostrils, you flinched at the smell, earning some soft shushing from the person on the other side of your eyelids. Sighing, you open your eyes just a sliver, “Hey, J,” you greeted her, your voice raspy from lack of use and probably a breathing tube.
Hospitals made your stomach churn, hunger and blood loss certainly contributed to the feeling as you tried to reorient yourself with the land of the living. “Hi, Ducky,” she whispered, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly, “You’re okay.”
Humming, you closed your eyes again, being awake in stages, “Haven’t heard that one in a while,” you murmured, smiling softly. “I feel like shit,” you groaned, trying to shift in the bed just to be met with a shooting pain in your abdomen. Pieces of the puzzle started coming back to you.
“The doctors said you were really lucky, the knife didn’t hit any organs or blood vessels,” he told you, giving you an update on your condition. Waking up in hospitals always gave you an odd feeling, being surrounded by a group of people who knew more about how you were doing than you did.
Frowning, you let your eyes flutter open, “Yeah, lucky,” you breathed. “That’s exactly how I feel right now.”
JJ smoothed some of your hair away from your forehead, “He’s dead, Ducky.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Did you shoot him?”
She shrugged slyly, “I let Morgan take the shot.”
That was a lie you let her get away with. If JJ had been the one to shoot Paul, there likely would’ve been an investigation opened because of your familial tie—Strauss would’ve had her hands all over that one. This way, there was no question about ethics. “Thank you,” you whispered to her, “I’m…” your voice trailed off as you noticed someone else in the corner of the room.
Following your gaze, JJ looked confused, “He hasn’t moved all night.” Spencer was almost comedically folded in a hospital chair, his wrist bent beneath his chin as he slept. “He rode with you to the hospital, and I’m not sure—”
“I’m in love with him,” you cut her off mid-sentence. You watched your sister’s confusion morph into shock as she looked from you to Spencer and back again. “Spencer and I have been dating for the last nine months, and we haven’t told anyone. It wasn’t because we wanted to keep anyone in the dark or because we didn’t want you to know, we just liked having something that was ours.”
Surprise was clear on her face while she searched her mind for clues into what you were telling her. You could tell she was thinking, you recognized her thinking face as well as you would if you were looking in a mirror. “You and Spencer?”
You nodded stiffly, moving your upper lip to adjust your nasal cannula, “Yeah. Me and Spencer.”
“So, when I tried to pin the two of you together last fall… you were already together?” She asked, recalling a night spent as a team at O’Keefe’s.
Giving her a lopsided smile, you held your hands out in mock surrender, “Yeah,” you echoed.
She just continued staring at you up until her phone rang, she apologized to you before picking it up, greeting Will over the phone, and stepping out into the hallway.
You tilted your head to the side, getting a better look at Spencer sleeping in the chair, “Spence,” you called out to him, remembering that you’re in a hospital and raising your voice is frowned upon, even as a patient. “Spencer,” you crooned, trying to wake him up without startling him.
He didn’t so much as budge, you tried again, but when he didn’t stir, you had to turn to violence.
With an aching arm, you grabbed a pen from the table attached to your hospital bed and flung it at him, gasping when the pen hit him in the head. His eyes opened, looking at you groggily as he stretched out his wrist.
“Hey,” he said, instantly over his irritation of being pelted with a BIC pen, “You’re up.” Spencer looked around the room noting no sign of your sister before he took her seat at your bedside, “You look good.”
You laughed slightly, the movement felt good spiritually, but physically it pulled at your stitches. “I look like shit,” you corrected him, you didn’t even need a mirror to know that.
Spencer smiled at you fondly, fingers carefully dancing along your hairline. His touch was tentative like he was afraid a single touch would break you, “You’ve certainly looked better,” he admitted.
The grin that bloomed on your face felt foreign after a day of pain, but it relieved you to stretch those muscles. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, noticing the way his hand faltered in its movements.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he reminded you, not even sure which it he was referring to, he simply wanted to know you weren’t to blame for any of it.
You hummed, adjusting yourself on your pillows, “But I took advantage of you.”
In response, Spencer reached out a hand, placing the back of it on your forehead, checking for a fever as if you weren’t hooked up to a vital monitor.
Swatting his hand away, you looked at him solemnly, “No, I took advantage of your rational minds when I asked you for help outside of the warehouse. I made the decision to ask you because I knew you would help me first and panic second.”
“Honey,” Spencer said, gingerly moving strands of hair off of your forehead, “You are severely underestimating my abilities if you think I wasn’t panicking while I was helping you.”
You pressed your lips together thoughtfully, looking at him, “I wanna go home,” you murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes.
He looked at you sadly, “Tomorrow, probably. I’ll bring you home and unpack the first load of your things in my place. You can sit on the couch and tell me where everything goes.”
“Spencer,” you said, gentle chide in your tone.
Your boyfriend hummed, “You didn’t seriously think I’d let you keep living in that apartment, did you?”
Honestly, you hadn’t had the time for the thought to cross your mind, but Spencer had always thought you lived in a bad part of town. He was right, of course, but this was a lot to digest all at once. “You don’t have to; I can just find a new apartment.”
He leaned over the bed, “It’s too late. I already asked Penelope to come over this weekend and help me go through my closet and dresser.”
“Did you tell her?” You asked him, reaching a hand up and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.
Spencer shook his head, “No, but I suppose we’ll have to.”
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you raised your eyebrows, “Well, I told JJ.” You informed him of the fact that you’d abrogated the seal of silence on your relationship.
“Rossi knows,” he told you like it should’ve been news to you.
You shrugged, “He figured it out months ago. I thought you knew that.”
Your boyfriend frowned, “How would I have known that?”
“He profiled us, it’s like reverse profiling,” you explained.
Spencer chuckled softly, “You’re right, my mistake.” His brown eyes shimmered as he took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
He never took his eyes off of you, watching you like a hawk at every moment—you weren’t even sure he was blinking properly. “What’s still bothering you?”
Shaking his head, he dismissed your question immediately. You felt safe with him, when your sister returned to the doorway, she faltered at the sight in front of her. Spencer was resting his head on your hospital bed, softly chatting to you about sea otters while your eyes fluttered shut.
Before you fell asleep, she raised her eyebrows and held up a thumbs up, asking if you were okay.
A brief nod in response was all you needed, smiling at her softly while she went back to her phone call.
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