#I know you never check tumblr but that’s okay

[torchickentacos]

Im here for your opinions on roundworms and parasites.

THANK YOU! Your enabling is always appreciated (and I think I have a pokemon ask from you that I lost in my drafts like six months ago????? I'll go find that later!) Here are some of my parasite opinions. Under the read-more because, re: last post's tags, this is not what most of you guys signed up for 😭

My main opinion- worms are, by far, the most interesting type of parasite, even amongst other endoparasites. Exoparasites are largely boring. Sorry to any tick or leech enthusiasts out there. Amoebas (and other protozoan parasites) are just okay. They were more interesting in season 2 of House MD than they are in real life, imo.

Guinea worms (draculculiasis) are maybe the most disgusting type of endoparasite, but thankfully they're incredibly rare. I'll keep it not-revolting but the removal process is disgusting, and not much gets to me but that does. When I was in vetmed classes back in like 2018-2020, I was the person who wanted front-row seats to literally everything, and despite that, guinea worms make me viscerally uncomfortable... but very fascinated. Heartworms are pretty high up there, too, and roundworms do get an honorary mention.

Not really an opinion but I need to know what kind of worm RFK JR has. I have been so darkly fascinated by this for months on end. It's PROBABLY neurocysticercosis, but what if it's something more interesting???? I have never wanted to see the full medical work-up of a politician more badly. I periodically check to see if there's any updates in the brainworm department. ALSO, it didn't actually eat his brain. I'm not a parasitologist but I'm like 95% sure that any worms that would have a presence in the brain would not actively feed on any organic tissue in that sense. It's probably a cyst caused by a calcified tapeworm larvae that damaged surrounding brain tissue. There was probably no actual ingestion of brain tissue despite claims and headlines. BUT IF THERE WAS, I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT. But nobody has a concrete answer.

If we want to talk about non-human parasites, then horsehair worms are a fun starting point! They infect insects and cause the insect to seek out water and drown themselves, and then the worm escapes in the water as part of the worm's life cycle. If you've got a strong stomach, go look it up on youtube. It's vile but SO interesting. The Green-banded broodsac is also a lovely little freak. It invades snail's eye stalks and pulses bright, strange colors to attract birds. The bird eats the snail (and the worm) and the worm uses the bird's droppings to scatter its eggs. It's some real freak of nature type shit and I love it.

Also not really an opinion, but I learned very quickly as a child that telling the other kids fun worm facts is not a great way to make friends, but on tumblr it works just fine!

[aphverse-confessions]

I have a conspiracy theory that whoever is in charge of this account keeps track of the people who forget to turn on anon for their confessions whether by simply keeping them in the ask box waiting to be answered, or by screenshotting them. And when the day finally comes for this account to be defunct there will be BLOODSHED.

that or you secretly work for Jess, or ARE HER! *que dramatic music*

Okay I was gonna post this as a normal confrssion but I changed my mind. So all of my response is in the tags teehee

[echo-s-land]

It's insane how most of the time I don't get how ppl interact and I also Don't Fucking Care

[ifthatslove]

Which of Blair's rivalries is the absolute best? And how do you make your determination? Length of time? The reason(s) for the rivalry? Number of memorable moments? Strength of the writing for the character opposite Blair? Strength of the actress opposite KDP?

[elytrafemme]

TELL ME WHY ALL MY IRLS HAVE A TUMBLR ACCT AND NOBODY TOLD ME? 

[oh-obrien]

Old feelings being unearthed will actually be the end of me I think (especially when they are 100% unrequited) and I absolutely HATE it and would rather die atm quite honestly.

[aplusod]

I've seemingly run into a thing where Gmail of all things doesn't always actually send me emails (wtf, google). It's rare, at least, but it still seems to happen. Twitter? I can understand with its enshittification and all, but at least I still get DMs even if I'm never actually notified. Tumblr? It's held together with glue and shit, idk, PMs/asks have never quite worked correctly for me since like 2013.

(And I've checked Spam, Trash, all filters, etc. Some emails just don't show up at all. And I'm not sure if people ever receive an error email?)

This doesn't really affect anything artblog-wise, just if you need to get in contact with me, and I don't respond within like 2 days, please try discord or my secondary (non-gmail) email address. Both of these can be found in my carrd (aplusod.carrd.co). I'm really sorry, I seem to be cursed by, like, the ghost of communication or something.

[zentraex]

Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.

Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.

Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader

(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.

Art by @asteriscks on TikTok

This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.

Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.

It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 

You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 

Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 

_

It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 

Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?

Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.

"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.

"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 

What?

"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."

"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"

"No..."

You already knew what that meant: double payment.

"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."

You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.

 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."

Your eyes widened. 

Now?

"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"

"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."

Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 

"The keys?" 

With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.

What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  

You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.

Thank God, I didn't hit him. 

"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."

What!?

How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 

"You’re telling me this now!?"

"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 

That filthy bastard.

No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  

What were you going to do now? 

Shit.

"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.

Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.

Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.

"But maybe we can agree on something.

Then you stopped. 

"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."

Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 

"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"

"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”

_

Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 

Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.

But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.

_

"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."

After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.

I'm going to die today!

After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.

“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."

Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 

Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01

Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04

Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02

Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 

Mia Stone F03 – 01

Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04

Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 

"I wish you good luck."

C’mon Reader, be like Henry…

But better.

The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.

"Good evening."

Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 

With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?

Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 

Long hair

Small round nose

She has freckles

...

...

...

Freckles?

Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 

You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.

No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 

"You look different...", you murmur after a while.

"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."

Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 

Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 

You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 

Shit. 

She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.

Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 

"3312," you murmur to yourself.

"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."

Cleaning protocol? 

What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 

What if they will?

What if your judgment was wrong?

What if...

Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.

"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."

It took a while until someone finally came again. 

This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 

Milkman...

You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 

You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 

"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."

"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."

Long nose

Thin chin

Tired eyes

Short hair

Wears a hat

It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 

Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."

"Yes, today is my first day."

"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."

Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.

"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."

Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.

"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."

You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.

What milk do you mean exactly?

My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?

"I'd be delighted, Francis."

You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 

"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"

And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 

You pressed the green button.

_

"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 

It was your third day, your third time to change shift.

Well, it usually would have been.

Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.

He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.

You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  

"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"

He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 

"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"

The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.

Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....

Oh?

He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 

Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 

Were you so shameful?

"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."

You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 

His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”

If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?

Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.

_

"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 

Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.

"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."

Well, he had a point, huh?

No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 

You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.

"Have you killed more people?"

"Just more doppelgangers you let through."

Your eyes widened. 

You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.

"How many have I let through?"

Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"

You just nod, smiling.

"Are you going to kill others...?

You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 

"Would you kill for me?"

"Hooooonn"

When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 

You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.

_

Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 

But honestly? 

You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.

When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 

[coquettebratzdoll]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Stop scrolling. Just stop.

(A little tough love. Im going to be much more rude and blunt than i normally am. If you arent in the right headspace for that rn, skip this post)

How long have you been on tumblr today ? Yesterday ? This week ? Hell, even this month ? And, more importantly, why don't you have your desires already ?

"But, Athenaaaa. I still don't know how to manifest/shift 🥺" Decide what you want and persist in the assumption that it's yours. Mindblowing 🤯

In all seriousness, you should really check why you feel the need to know everything there is to know about shifting/manifesting. It's okay to want to know more, only if it doesn't come at the expense of ACTUALLY applying that knowledge. I've always held the belief that knowledge is useless if you do nothing with it. And as far as I see, it holds true. It's sooooo easy to get everything that you want, SO 💥 WHY 💥 TF 💥 ARENT 💥 YOU 💥 DOING 💥 IT !?!?

OMLLLLL, all of us bloggers are saying the exact same shit in different fonts (i chose pink tehe 🤭). Honestly, nobody can force you to apply. If you are content with the life you live, then that's ayt 🤷‍♀️. Like idk if you expect us to manifest for you or smth. We are already sharing our knowledge and experience on how we got what we got, for FREE. Yet you can't hold up your end of the bargain 🤦‍♀️.

Must feel nice, huh ? Getting that dopamine rush everytime you like a post. Making mental reminders to affirm this or do that or listen to that sub of whatever tf. Maybe you actually go through with it for a couple days 🎊. Yet you're still here. You're STILL liking all those posts. You're STILL doing all those challenges. You're STILL living in the old story. It's laughable actually.

For all of those who are actually SERIOUS about getting what you want, then stop scrolling and fucking APPLY. If your tired of being beaten down by your reality and circumstances - decide that you have everything that you want and NEVER take 'no' for an answer.

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze

Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):

And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.

On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:

And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.

I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either

[squarebracket-trickster]

You can analyze your favourite writers' techniques. You all know that right?

When you read a book or fic or whatever and are blown away by how amazing the writing is you can just go, "huh, how is the writer doing this? what things are they doing to get this effect?"

And if you can't figure it out you are allowed to google it. Check out YouTube videos, blog posts, and the wealth of posts on Tumblr even. If the writer is famous enough there might even be full-length academic papers on Google Scholar or JSTOR, or even 100+ page published books dissecting their style (Tolkien, for example, if you like his style). If you still can't find the information, ask someone. Ask more experienced writers or writers who write in a similar style. Ask writing advice blogs/channels. Ask the writer/author themselves.

And if you still can't figure it out, you can keep trying things and reading similar stuff, observing until it clicks.

I just say this because, well, reading someone else's writing and feeling like yours is horrible in comparison is pretty much a universal writer experience. I see a lot a posts on Tumblr offering encouragement like, "it is okay if you writing isn't like theirs, you just have different strengths," and "actually your writing is better than you think it is, you've just been staring at it too long." And these are valid.

But also, just because you can't write like that now doesn't mean you can't learn. You don't have to resign yourself to a particular style just because it comes easier to you. It is completely okay to be happy with the style you have, but it is also okay to not be happy with it and wish you could write like your favourite writers instead.

Just... when you get that, "oh my gosh, I will never be as good as them," feeling, maybe try figuring out what it is they are doing that you like so much. Maybe being patient with yourself doesn't mean accepting that this is your best work. Maybe it means accepting that this isn't and that it will take time, knowledge, and practice to get there. But you will, you just have to keep trying.

[joycrispy]

I'm seeing some confusion out and about over the title A Companion to Owls (generally along the lines of 'what have owls got to do with it???'), so I'd like to offer my interpretation (with a general disclaimer that the Bible and particularly the Old Testament are damn complicated and I'm not able to address every nuance in a fandom tumblr post, okay? Okay):

It's a phrase taken from the Book of Job. Here's the quote in full (King James version):

When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. --(Job 30:29)

Job is describing the depths of his grief, but also, with that last line, his position in the web of providence.

Throughout the Old Testament, owls are a recurring symbol of spiritual devastation. Deuteronomy 4:17 - Isaiah 34:11 - Psalm 102: 3 - Jeremiah 50: 39...just to name a few (there's more). The general shape of the metaphor is this: owls are solitary, night-stalking creatures, that let out either mournful cries or terrible shrieks, that inhabit the desolate places of the world...and (this is important) they are unclean.

They represent a despair that is to be shunned, not pitied, because their condition is self-inflicted. You defied God (so the owl signifies), and your punishment is...separation. From God, from others, from the world itself. To call and call and never, ever receive an answer.

Your punishment is terrible, tormenting loneliness.

(and that exact phrase, "tormenting loneliness," doesn't come from me...I'm pulling it from actual debate/academia on this exact topic. The owls, and what they are an omen for. Oof.)

To call yourself a 'companion to owls,' then, is to count yourself alongside perhaps the most tragic of the damned --not the ones who defy God out of wickedness or ignorance, and in exile take up diabolical ends readily enough...but the ones who know enough to mourn what they have lost.

So, that's how the title relates to Job: directly. Of course, all that is just context. The titular "companion to owls," in this case, isn't Job at all.

Because this story is about Aziraphale.

The thing is that Job never actually defied God at all, but Aziraphale does, and he does so fully believing that he will fall.

He does so fully believing that he's giving in to a temptation.

He's wrong about that, but still...he's realized something terrifying. Which is that doing God's will and doing what's right are sometimes mutually exclusive. Even more terrifying: it turns out that, given the choice between the two...he chooses what's right.

And he's seemingly the only angel who does. He's seemingly the only angel who can even see what's wrong.

Fallen or not, that's the kind of knowledge that...separates you.

(Whoooo-eeeeee, tormenting loneliness!!!)

Aziraphale is the companion.

...I don't think I need to wax poetic about Aziraphale's loneliness and grappling with devotion --I think we all, like, get it, and other people have likely said it better anyway. So, one last thing before I stop rambling:

Check out Crowley's glasses.

(screenshots from @seedsofwinter)

Crowley is the owl.

Crowley is the goddamn owl.

[cloudcountry]

just realized i NEVER posted this to tumblr??? HELLO??? if it wasn't for ao3 this shit would have been lost media because i literally cannot find it in my google docs??? HELP???

ANYWAYS!! WELCOME TO WHAT THE TWST BOYS LEFT YOU WITH AFTER YOU BROKE UP

its bittersweet. you guys broke up on good terms. post-formatting auburn here and omfg what was i THINKING this shit HURTED. OW. CRITICAL HIT I NEED A HEALER. FUCK.

Riddle Rosehearts leaves you with an appreciation for learning, a strong sense of awe at the bookshelves lining the walls of NRC’s library. He leaves you with a pen, tucked at the bottom of your backpack that you forget about until a late night study session. You find it and giggle, remembering the time he gave it to you when yours ran out of ink, and you begin to take notes with the red-rose ink.

Trey Clover leaves you with a sense of nurture. You pick up cues from people that you never would have seen before and know exactly how to act, and it isn’t until you find yourself “babying” Ace that you step back and laugh. Of course Trey rubbed off on you, he always was taking care of you with nobody to help out him.

Cater Diamond leaves you with extensive knowledge of camera angles. When you’re taking pictures with your friends or just you, it's like you know exactly which filter would look best with every shot. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon a filter you only ever used on his pics, and you’re filled with a bittersweet happiness. Simple photo editing holds so many memories, and you can only hope he’s making new ones, too.

Deuce Spade leaves you with a motivation to protect yourself. When you started dating him all that time ago, he insisted on giving you some form of self defense lessons just so you could protect yourself. He made you more confident, even if he never knew it. You’ll always be thankful for the way he unknowingly made you stand up straighter, like you were proud to be yourself.

Ace Trappola leaves you with a lighter soul. He’s always been a goofy person, and you know full well that he’s never changed. He made you way more optimistic just by dealing with things the way he did, always being true to his heart no matter who he was speaking to. You always admired that about him, and it made you feel like you could be more like yourself even when he wasn’t there anymore.

Leona Kingscholar leaves you with a piece of his pride. He always told you to keep your head up especially when you’re scared half to death. You find yourself using his advice every time you face a situation you’d rather not be in, and slowly conquer everything that used to freak you out. You finally glow with the pride that you know he would have been so proud of if he was still with you, but you’re starting to think that maybe he’s proud of you anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi leaves you with a determination to constantly fight for better. You need to make the best of your circumstances, being transported to a world where you’re powerless with nothing but the shirt on your back. He’s taught you to be crafty and resourceful, and to never let yourself be taken advantage of. You can’t thank him enough...and really, you can’t anymore, but that’s okay.

Jack Howl leaves a carefully planned school year in his wake. You find yourself planning out your day, little events scribbled into your calendar and schedules created in the margins of your notebook. Jack had always reminded you of things and you wanted to let him know how much you valued his efforts to keep you on track, so you started writing down his schedules too. It isn’t until you flip back through your notebook to find older notes that you see “Track and Field Meet - 5pm” and feel a pang in your heart.

Azul Ashengrotto leaves you with a ton of home-economics knowledge. Long after you two have broken up, you still find yourself checking on your monthly expenses and tweaking your meal plans, and it isn’t until you’re laying in bed one night that you realize you wouldn’t be nearly as efficient as you are now if it wasn’t for your previous sweetheart.

Jade Leech leaves you with a fascination for the world around you. He took things that you didn’t think twice about and twisted them into beautiful sights, and you never quite looked at them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Your world has never been more beautiful, even if the boy that opened your eyes isn’t there to see it with you.

Floyd Leech leaves you with a restless need to do something. Sometimes, during your down time, you’ll set down your phone and start pacing around your room, wondering why your legs just can’t seem to sit still. Then something clicks—Floyd used to barge into your dorm and dance with you at random intervals, but he doesn’t do that as much anymore. Laughing to yourself, you slip on a coat and decide to take a walk—anything to get the fidgeting out of your system.

Kalim Al-Asim leaves you with a brighter smile and higher patience. You’d always had to chase after him on whatever misadventure he decided to go on that day, apologizing to Jamil with a wobbly smile on your face once the day was done. Kalim never failed to make things brighter, even your breakup. You two still hang out sometimes, but you aren’t as close as you used to be, even if the memories of your adventures remain.

Jamil Viper leaves you with some of his best recipes. It may seem silly or insignificant to anyone else, but you know exactly how much time he spent cooking and baking for Kalim and his entire dorm on a daily basis. He even found time to bring you and his club snacks occasionally. You still know how to make his favorite curry, and if a recipe calls for dates you scratch them out from the ingredients out of habit.

Vil Schoenheit leaves you feeling beautiful. He never once looked at you wrong, whether you had just woken up or had gotten into another mud fight with Grim or if you were wearing a swimsuit. There was nothing but love in his gaze and a reminder to keep your head up on his tongue, because in his eyes you were precious. Because to Vil, you were unapologetically beautiful (and you still are. You always will be.)

Rook Hunt leaves you with an eye for detail. After picking up on everything you did and telling you about every habit he examined, you became keenly aware of your habits and how to manage them. You’re far more observant when it comes to your own self care, and you know you wouldn’t be as diligent if it wasn’t for the insistence of your ex.

Epel Felmier leaves you with a love for nature. You’re hyper aware of how long it takes apple trees to grow and what you can do to help them along. You whisper to your plants now and sing little songs to them and you water them. Your friends have even started coming to you for pointers, and despite the fact that Epel isn’t your partner anymore, you refer them to him automatically.

Idia Shroud leaves you with an absurd amount of techy knowledge. With all the gadgets Ramshackle has because of him, you’re thankful he took the time to explain how they worked. The gifts he made for you almost make the fact that he had to end things with you because of his...family business and that you’ll likely never see him again easier to swallow.

Malleus Draconia leaves you with a greater love for the night sky. You had a person to share the sight of the stars with for once, someone who loved looking up at them just as much as you did. You can still feel the chill of his hand over yours as he reached for it, holding it like you were the most precious treasure of all. Now, when you look up at the stars, you feel a pain of longing in your chest. You miss him.

Lilia Vanrouge leaves you with knowledge of the worlds you’ll never see. You find yourself drawing parallels between this world, your world, and the mystical places Lilia used to talk about. Even Trein has been impressed by the knowledge you’ve displayed in his essays despite not being from this world, and you can only force a laugh.

Silver leaves you with a safety net, something you can use to calm down whenever. His childhood lullaby. He sang it for you time and time again when you were having trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place when your anxiety got a bit too much. Whenever you have a nightmare now, you find yourself humming the old Briar Valley tune, in hopes that it will give you some comfort.

Sebek Zigvolt leaves you with a greater appreciation for reading (and a pile of bookmarks tucked in an old leather box he presented when he started “courting” you.) You still find yourself exiting Ramshackle on the weekends, and heading to that very same tree you two used to read under. There’s a part of you that wants to look for him, to check and see if he’s also heading to your tree, but you don’t.

[glitzreyasblog]

𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐀’𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 3𝐃

NEED TO STUDY FOR THE EXAM THAT IS PERFECTING YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE 3D? THIS CUTE LITTLE CHEAT SHEET HAS GOT YOU COVERED! ───♡───

KEY PHRASES & CONCEPTS

• to change the world you must change self

• the 3D cant change if there's nothing new to reflect

• why seek something from the 3D when you can give it to yourself instantly?

• the 3D cant create on its own, nor can it deny you of your desires

• it’s never about changing the outside world, fulfillment is all about changing how you feel. if you’re imagining for the sole purpose of getting something in the 3D then you’re wasting your effort

FORMULA

change in self + persistence in your new identity/assumption = change in the 3D

THE RELATIONSHIP

you and the 3D are NOT separate. the 3D is a reflection of you. when people say you can’t change it, they’re referring to the fact that you as the outer man can change absolutely nothing. that is because the only way to change anything is through the inner man. change is created in the outer world when change is created in the inner world. so don’t try to directly change the 3D, it’s pointless, you know it is. don’t every try to change the 3D without bothering to change self. if you were to look into a mirror and hate the clothes you have on, you would simply change your outfit. you wouldn’t try to get the mirror to change your clothes. the mirror can’t change anything for you, it can only show you what you are. that goes for the 3D as well. the 3D is the mirror, it can only ever reflect you (and only you). so the 3D isn’t what you should be trying to change. the 3D is aligned with you, it’s never something different from you.

RESOURCES

amazing posts on tumblr that’ll help encourage and motivate you! read these when you feel a little lost :)

it’s okay to acknowledge…

there’s no excuse!

you want proof?

learn indifference

where I go in imagination…

always return to fulfillment

neville’s army story

the 4D is the only real reality

REMINDERS

keep yourself in check!!

from piercedblunt’s blog

from cinefairy’s blog

from sexydreamgirl’s anon

from sexydreamgirl’s blog

GOOD LUCK! YOU GOT THIS! :) ───♡───────

[simplyraeblue]

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one-time thing (bakugo x reader)

ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader when you run into bakugo at denki's house party and do some... physical activity in the bathroom. but you swear it's just a one-time thing considering you'd never met before WARNINGS: swearing, NSFW, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving), smut, y'know the usual ◦ ◡ ◠ word count: 2,328 A/N: might become a full fic... we'll see how posting a lil bit on tumblr goes first ;P Also, I'm still very new to writing smut so bear with me, and feel free to offer suggestions!

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The house was a maze, mostly because of the crowd, so you ventured up the stairs where it was quieter to find a restroom. The more steps you took upward, the more you realized how buzzed you were. Finally, you could see a door open to a bathroom, and you quickly shut yourself inside.  You turned the tap on to splash water on your face, only to be suddenly sprayed.  

“Fuck, stupid faucet.” you cursed, running your hands over your now-soaked top. You'd barely turned it on full blast. Luckily, you looked in the cabinet and found a hair dryer. Removing your shirt and laying it over the towel rod, you turned the hair dryer on to hopefully salvage your top.  

As you continued cursing under your breath, you heard a knock at the door. “Someone’s in here!” you shouted over the dryer.  

Then the door knob turned. Fuck, thought it was locked. You scrambled to grab your shirt and cover yourself before a man stepped into the bathroom. 

“Everything okay in here?” The voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. A blonde man stepped through the doorway, his red-colored eyes meeting yours. 

“I’m fine, just had a spill.” you rushed out, still attempting to cover your bra.  

“Saw you rush up here, albeit stumbling, and wanted to check.” He told you, still standing in the doorway as if he was unfazed by the state you were in.  

Truth be told, Bakugo was a bit buzzed himself, and the sight of a pretty girl in front of him was enough to set his senses on fire. You were blushing, making you look even cuter, and he found himself struggling to not look at where your hands were holding your shirt so as not to expose herself. A daring question sat heavy in the back of his mind as he took a step towards you. 

“What are you doing?” your words came out stuttering as the man stepped closer. You were very aware of the state you were in, and on top of that, your friends' words rang in your mind. ‘The boys will be all over you’ they'd said. While the man before you was very easy on the eyes, okay maybe more than easy on the eyes, you were feeling unsure about the predicament you found yourself in. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked you, his voice low and causing your face to flush. How could he be so forward? You hadn’t been touched in years, not since your last fling, and now some random guy was making your body heat up like you were sitting in boiling water.  

“I-I don’t know.” That was all you could say. Bakugo took note of how flustered you were getting and wondered if you were a virgin.  

“Pretty girl, alone in a bathroom at a party, shirt already off.” He trailed on, glancing to where your hands held your shirt firmly. “I saw you at the bar from outside, couldn’t take my eyes off you and even then, you were fully clothed.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to stalk closer. Were you seriously getting flustered by a man you ran into in the bathroom? Damn, you really were touch starved.  

“Y’know, one could see this a sexual assault.” You told him, and he paused where he was, hesitating. “But, seeing as I have just enough alcohol to make poor decisions but know what I’m doing and you are really hot...” 

At the sight of the teasing smirk on your face, Bakugo grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in, his lips crashing into yours. Dammit, he didn’t care if he never saw you again, you were hot, and he was needy. With his forceful actions, he heard you moan into his mouth, setting fireworks off in his brain. It was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard in his life. 

You were shocked at how he was acting, so confident and straightforward; but you were more shocked by how you were letting it happen. Hell, he was attractive and knew what he wanted. The perfect one-night stand in your book. You let loose a moan again as he backed you up against the glass shower wall before he reached one hand inside to start the water. 

“What are you-” you started to ask. 

“So, no one can hear how hard I’m about to fuck you.” The tone of his words sent heat straight to your core. This time, you smashed your lips into his, the heat sending signals to your brain that you wanted more.  

Bakugo grabbed the shirt from your hands, tossing it aside quickly to take in your lacy bra. God, your body was perfect. He wasted no time in pressing kisses to your neck, giving rough bites before seeing the hickies he was leaving behind. Even if you didn’t share your names before leaving tonight, he wanted you to remember everything that had happened. When he nibbled at the soft spot between your collar bone and neck, you whimpered, and he could have came just from the sound.  

You made quick work of his shirt, gripping the bottom of it as he allowed you to pull it over his head. Your hands met his torso, where strong muscles ripped under your touch. Between his biceps and abs, you were pretty sure he could lift you up to fuck you if he wanted to. You grabbed for the buckle on his pants, but his hands stopped you.  

Before you could try again, Bakugo kneeled in front of you, noticing how you tried to hide your surprised look. As he palmed your thighs, he marveled at how soft your skin was before placing kisses on the inside. “Stop teasing,” you warned through a gasp, making him smirk. Bakugo lifted your skirt just enough and inhaled sharply. You weren’t wearing any underwear.  

“Fuck, it’s like you were waiting for me.” He spoke. 

“What makes you think I was waiting for you, Mr. Big Ego?” you managed to tease, even though you were pretty sure you had no room to talk since you were letting a stranger see you in all your glory.  

“Trust me. After this, you’ll be happy it was me who found you.” He smirked up at you from below, a sight that sent you spiraling, before he quite literally dove off the deep end. 

As Bakugo pressed his mouth between your legs, his tongue giving a quick lick, he felt your legs quiver as a loud moan escaped you. Fuck, you tasted like heaven on his tongue. Bakugo gave you no time to recuperate from his initial contact, immediately beginning to devour you.  

While his tongue licked up and down your folds, you were fighting to hold in your pleasure-filled noises. He knew what he was doing, and your legs were already shaking from him having barely done anything. “Holy... holy shit.” you breathed out, reaching your hand down to let your fingers twist in his hair. His tongue found your clit, taking it in his mouth quickly like a man starved, sending electricity through your body. “If you don’t stop...” 

“I want you to cum on my face first, sweetheart.” His voice was muffled, but his words had an impact on you nonetheless. Soon after his request, you felt him tease your entrance with his fingers, almost sending you right over the edge. “Are you going to cum on my fingers? Or should I continue to just use my mouth?” 

“P-please, fuck me with your fingers.” you whimpered, bucking your hips with desire. “I want to c-cum.” 

Bakugo smirked as he slid two fingers past your entrance, feeling your tight walls clench around them. He was now silently hoping you were on birth control so he could feel it on his cock in a minute. His mouth found your clit again, sucking and nibbling at the bud as he began to pump two fingers in and out of you.  

He could tell you were close; you'd stopped talking at this point and your hips began to spasm as your knees shook. With the fervent need to taste you, he continued drilling into you as he became relentless on your clit.  

“Fuck, yes cum f’ me.” He demanded, and you felt that chord within you snap. His free arm wrapped around your leg to hold you up as you gave in, riding out your orgasm with his face still between your legs.  

When you felt like you could breathe again, you let out a shaky, “Holy fuck.”  

But before you could say anything else, he stood up and kissed you before he even wiped off his mouth. you could taste herself on his lips and the thought drove you wild. you let his tongue tease yours in your mouth as he finally allowed you to begin unbuckling his belt. He helped you get it off before unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down himself, along with his boxers. 

Bakugo noticed how your red-tinged cheeks became even more prominent once your gaze met his dick. He placed his hands on his hip with a smirk, asking, “Do you like what you see?” 

you could feel your walls clenching at the sight of him. Forget the orgasm you just had, you wanted him inside of you right now. “Shut up and fuck me. I’m on birth control so just get on with it.” you demanded, sounding needy, and he responded quickly. 

He grabbed your thighs and lifted you off the ground, pushing you against the glass shower wall once again and wrapping your legs around his waist. With one hand holding you, he pumped himself a couple of times with the other before positioning himself at your entrance. “Don’t forget, you asked for this.” He whispered as he buried his face in your neck before plunging himself into you without hesitation.  

Bakugo swore to heaven and hell once he felt your walls tighten around him in response. It was too good, and he found himself teetering on the edge already. Thank the universe you were on birth control so he could feel every inch of you swallowing him. He felt your previous orgasm covering his dick, making it easier to begin sliding in and out of you. Each time he pulled out and entered again he shivered at the pleasure building up in his body. 

you were a mess at this point. His dick felt too good inside of you to even be real; you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth as his hips thrust into yours while he sucked on your neck, no doubt leaving more marks for you to find tomorrow. “I-if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum again.” you whined, while he only continued to drive himself further into you, hitting all the right spots.  

“Let me feel you cum on me. P-please, cum with me inside of you.” He groaned into your skin as he began moving his hips faster, snapping into yours with force.  

The next time he bit down on your neck, you felt a wave of pleasure crash over you again, drowning you in your release.  

Bakugo felt your walls clamp around him, sending him over the edge with you. His cock strained with his orgasm as he pumped deeper into you, filling you to the brim as he came. He felt like it was the longest orgasm he’d ever had, maybe even never-ending as he panted into your neck. While he was a little embarrassed at how long he’d lasted, it just felt too damn good.  

“Holy shit,” you said while trying to catch your breath. Bakugo could only nod in agreement, at a loss for words from what he’d just experienced.  

When he pulled out and gently set you back on her feet, you swayed a little bit before feeling his arms catch you. “That was...” He panted; his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you. For a moment, you wished you had asked his name, but then deemed it too complicated realizing you would probably never see him again.  

“Do you think anyone heard?” you asked him as you became aware of where you were and who all could be around.  

“With how loud your mouth was, I'm sure they did.” Bakugo teased while grabbing a washcloth to wipe himself clean before handing it to you so you could do the same. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we went back downstairs and found that people were staring.” 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t normally do this. You caught me in a time of need.” you tried explaining away the fact that you'd just done something dirty in someone else’s bathroom. However, you didn’t regret it one bit, as your body still felt more satisfied than it had ever been. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at you as he shrugged. “I don’t normally do this type of thing either.” 

Before you could muster up the courage to ask his name, you heard your phone buzzing wildly from the counter. When you grabbed it, you read numerous text messages from your friends, all asking where you'd gone. “Well, we better get back to the party. Do you want to go out first and I’ll wait or vice versa?”  

Bakugo fought internally with himself, trying to decide if it was worth it to ask for your number. He wanted to see you again, do this with you again, but from the way you had talked, he got the hint that you wanted it to be written off experience. “You go ahead, I’ll clean myself up better before I come out.”  

you nodded, reaching for the doorknob but pausing. “If you have any desire to find me after this, my name is y/n. y/n l/n.” And before he could respond, you opened the door and left.  

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Link to Kirishima x reader here

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Link to Shoto x reader here

(word count: 1,800) Link to Kaminari x reader here (word count: 2,680)