#and really trying to think on how the dynamic would work

[0mg-bird]

hii! i lovedd 'lover's rock' sososo much and would absolutely love if you'd write more about that reader & spencer's relationship! maybe the way it develops or their dynamic when they are like 100% official? anything'll do but the way you wrote reader is so unbelievably me i was absolutely eating it upp!!! i love you & your writing!

Hiiiii!!! Thank u sm !!! Lover’s Rock got so much love, here’s a part two!

My Spencer Reid requests are open!

Everybody Loves Somebody ~ S. Reid

Part II of Lover’s Rock

Spencer!Reid x Fem!Twee!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, brief smut, reader gets wine drunk with BAU women. Reid being dirty, reader being dirty. Idiots in love, omg so cute, season 6/ 7 Reid is soooooo boyfriend. Morgan thinks Reid’s gone crazy. Um yeah okay enjoy

86% of Americans believe in true love, but only 67% of them say they’ve experienced it. That’s a statistic Spencer told you once.

How lucky you are to be apart of that 67%.

How lucky you are that you didn’t settle, that you waited painfully long for it to feel right, because it feels so right.

Ever since that everything but casual hookup, it was like a stone that was always supposed to be in motion, finally started rolling. Spencer took you to dinner, a nice Italian hole in the wall because you mentioned a love of pasta, then he started to call at the end of the day just to talk, and a second date became of that. It’s like he blinked and all of a sudden you two were spending all of his free time together, watching movies, his hand in yours as you dragged him to record stores.

He seriously thinks that in the moments you’re half dressed in his bed, rambling on and on about something you think is important enough to talk about until you practically pass out, that it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up alone come daybreak.

It never happens though, he wakes and you’re curled into his ribcage like that’s where you belong.

You do, he determines.

So three months of this honeymoon dance, the words ‘I love you’ come out unexpectedly in one of Spencer’s ramblings as the breeze blows in, feeling awfully like the winter that’s coming soon. You were bundled up beside him, hand in his like it always is as he tells you about work and how Morgan is always after him about the ‘scandalous love affair’ he’s having with ‘bar room girl’. Aka you.

“They ask so many questions, it’s unbelievable the lack of privacy I have. You know what he told me?” He had asked, which you answered with “What did he tell you, handsome?” before he continued.

“He seriously asked me if I was keeping my options open just in case you turned out to be crazy, clearly he had to be joking because there are no other options. Not that I would want another option! I wouldn’t, you’re the option I’ll stick with- no not an option just, well, you’re you and I love you so I don’t really care if you turn out crazy. I’d see the signs by now anyway.”

You stopped your stride, looking up at him with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“What?” You question.

“Well I’ve been with you long enough to learn your habits and if you were crazy then-”

“No.” You stop him. “You love me?”

He faces you, realizing he had just said it. But even if he wanted to try and back track, he couldn’t, he’s smiling too wide.

“Yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” You say, watching your words click in his brain and immediately his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning over you as you laugh against his lips. Spencer doesn’t do PDA, or so he thought until he learned that it’s sometimes the only way you’ll understand his feelings and how he can’t put them into words.

You adore the sporadic behavior, getting kissed on sidewalks and trains and movie theater seats and anywhere else he thinks you’re far too beautiful in.

That’s what life has been like for six months together, madly and truly and deeply in love, deeply intimate in every word and touch and action. He goes to work and you’re the thought in the back of his mind as he crakes cases, you teach students and find yourself smiling at any free moment you have to think of when you’re going to see him next.

Now, the team has noticed the shift in their beloved Dr Reid, how he didn’t go out with them like he used to, how he spent a lot more time texting, how he’d casually mention you, but Spencer was a selfish man who wanted you to be something of only his. He shared his whole life with his team and even if they were his family, he took pride in knowing he had an escape they didn’t, which was you.

If the world got too much, you were there with your quirky outfits and strawberry lipstick to stain his cheek. You were his fix. Screw drugs, he had your laugh engraved in his head and that was far better than a needle.

That being said, there were times he was feigning, going through withdrawal all over again when he was gone for too long.

Like now. When he’s been everywhere but where you are for a week and three days just because he had back to back conferences and then fell right into a case.

He was tired and drained and felt a migraine coming on, painfully antisocial as he leaned back in the seat in the jet. Momentarily, he takes a second to breathe, then immediately digs his phone from his pocket and messages you.

He knows that you’re probably just getting home from the school day, that you’re probably sitting down at your desk to grade papers or work out lesson plans. He’s learned your routine in and out, it might be a little stalker-ish if he really thinks about it, so many cases has he worked where the unsub knows where a girl is at 4:30pm.

He’s no unsub, he just loves you enough to know everything about you.

Morgan, nosy like always, notices the way Spencer softly smiles at his phone.

“What are you grinning at, lover boy?” He asks, watching the way Spencer’s expression quickly shifts.

“Nothing.” He states, putting his phone away.

Morgan smirks. “Oh don’t be coy with me, we all know you’re dying to get home to that girl of yours.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, he opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. So he gives into it instead.

“So what if I am?” He questions, making Morgan- and Emily who is now paying attention- laugh.

“Aw, Reid, you’re all twitter-patted.” The dark haired agent says in a sweet tone.

Spencer presses his lips together and looks away.

“He’s not even trying to deny it.” Morgan tries to jab.

Only Spencer just shrugs. “Why would I try to deny it? I’m in love with her.”

The two widen their eyes.

“That’s a big word to use.” Emily hums.

“It’s a big feeling to have.” Spencer states. “You know, I’m used to feeling like I’m slowly going crazy everyday but ever since I met her, I don’t really feel it as intensely. It’s all the chemicals released in my brain I think, the dopamine and oxytocin over powers anxiety. Maybe it’s a placebo effect or something but I’ve never felt better than I do with her, so in short words, she’s cured me.”

For a moment, the two are at a loss for words, staring at their friend. It’s no negative thoughts they have, because they are overjoyed that their nerdy, awkward sidekick has finally found a match.

“I’m happy for you, Reid.” Emily smiles. “Sounds like she’s a good fit.”

Spencer, who could never speak ill about you, nods. “She’s probably the only one out there for me so yeah, she’s a good fit.”

“And you have me to thank for having her.” Morgan smirks. “Without me, you wouldn’t have approached her at the bar, you would’ve sat with your nose in that book and died alone.”

“Wow. Very encouraging.” Spencer says dryly.

“I want to meet her. I’m sure the whole team does.” Emily says, changing the subject.

“What’s that?” JJ adds in.

“Reid’s gonna introduce us to the girl who makes him leave the office at a decent hour.” Emily states before he can protest.

You aren’t going to like this idea, but the team is all talking about it like it’s the biggest news ever. He’d get you to settle and agree somehow, just so Morgan will finally see why he is so infatuated with you.

Besides, Rossi is already planning a night at his mansion for the team just so Spencer can bring you along.

- - - -

You completely lose track of the time as you continue to prepare dinner in his apartment, adding homemade sauce to pasta, cutting up seasoned chicken.

That’s probably why you don’t realize Spencer is home until he’s shutting and locking the door behind him.

He smiles in surprise as he sees you, dancing around his kitchen, hair clipped up in a messy updo, knee socks sliding around the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks, causing you to startle and flip around to face him.

Immediately, you’re joyous.

“Spence! Hi!” You rush to him.

He’s never been greeted so warmly until you, and now he can’t have anything different.

His arms encircle your waist as you clumsily throw your arms around his neck. The first words out of your mouth are ones he had never heard that often before you.

“I missed you.” You say, hugging him tight.

He pressed his nose to your hair, soothed by your citrusy shampoo. “I missed you too. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?”

You pull back only enough to see his face, your hand in his hair. It’s shorter than when you met, but it’s a good look for him.

“I know but I got impatient and figured I could surprise you with dinner. Is that okay? I suppose I could have asked. I used the key you gave me, I figured that the key meant I could stop in but I really should have asked, huh? Sorry, you know I get ahead of myself. Is this a violation of privacy-”

His lips find your rambling ones, immediately shushing you. It’s a warm welcoming feeling, something the both of you have missed terribly. You sink a little more into him, eyes shut in bliss as you slowly mold your lips with his, savoring it, deepening it.

“You being here is perfect, I gave you that key for to use. Thank you for using it.” He says closely as he pulls back, leaning his forehead to yours.

You sigh with a smile. “I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too.”

There’s a very peaceful silence for a moment, filled with your hands on his chest and your lips trailing over his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asks before you press into him again, a little deeper now.

You hum in question against his lips.

“Where are your pants?” He asks, all muttered.

He really wasn’t complaining if you decided a new fashion trend was wandering his apartment in knee socks and funky patterned boy-short underwear.

“Red wine tragedy.” You state, pushing his coat off. “The cork wouldn’t budge, I put a little elbow grease into it but the thing toppled over when it popped and it was like a crime scene. Red stain everywhere.”

He tosses the coat to the arm chair. “That answers my next question as to why you’re wearing my Lacoste shirt.”

“My clothes are in the bathroom sink, had to scrub them down, though I think they can’t be salvaged.” You frown, turning back to the dinner, reaching for your wine glass.

Spencer just stares, watching how domestic it all is. You in his clothes, making dinner.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hungry, yes. Tired, not yet. Are you staying the night?” He asks, coming behind you, kissing the top of your head as he leans to pick at ingredients and snack on them.

“Oh…do you want me to?” You question, trying to be coy like you don’t already know the answer.

“Of course I want you to.” He responds, making you chew your lip.

“Good, because my bag is already in your bedroom so it would’ve been really awkward if you said no.”

Spencer laughs, squeezing your hip in affection before he goes to clean up and get out of his work clothes. He takes a quick shower, warm water rushing over him, but he doesn’t want to be away from you for too long.

He comes out in sweatpants and a graphic shirt you’ve finally returned back to him.

The two of you sit and eat dinner and you listen to every single word he has to say before you explain your day and everything you didn’t cover in the nightly phone calls he made to you while away. It’s sometime after cleaning up, after the two of you washed dishes while bumping hips, that Spencer notices the trickle of things that have made their way amongst his belongings. Some have come over time, like a collection of cd’s, books, scarves you constantly forget to grab on your way out. Some things are new, like the makeup products in the medicine cabinet, your favorite snacks in the fridge.

“Did you move in while I was gone?” He laughs, coming to sit beside you on his couch.

Your legs immediately are tugged into his lap, his hand rubbing your calves.

“What? No.” You state, taking your hair down. “I just came by to collect your mail and put it on the coffee table …and to water your plants.”

Spencer cocks his head, looking at you in question. “I don’t have any plants, lovely.”

He watches your smile grow. “I got you some plants.” You say with a giggle.

That explains the golden pathos on the television stand and the small fiddle leaf fig by the window.

He thinks it’s charming, endearing. He noses your hair line, drawing you closer to him. “I no longer live alone, it seems.” He hums.

“Does that bother you?” You question, leaning your head into the space between his collar and jaw. The perfect you size space.

Spencer is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head and speaks something into existence that he probably should have taken more than a second to think over.

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, I think I want you to move in. Permanently.”

Why should he have to think about it? It’s you, he wants you around 24/7. You could be his home, you could greet him like this always, your perfume could linger around like a friendly ghost.

“Is that a joke? I know you have an odd sense of humor.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

Spencer smiles gently, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “No joke. I want you to be here with me all the time, I’m selfish like that.”

“You aren’t selfish.” You scoff playfully, but your expression quickly turns into one of concern. “But-but are you sure? I’m probably not a good roommate, I can be messy and I sleep weird hours. And I leave wet towels on the floor a lot, and sometimes forget to put the toothpaste away.”

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll pick up the towels and put the toothpaste away.”

You continue to fuss. “But what about all of my things? I have a lot of stuff, you’d have to move things around and you’d get sick of all my shoes in your closet.”

“I don’t have much in my closet as it is, I’m fine with sharing. I’ll get another bookcase for your books.”

“But-”

He cradles your face in his hands. “But I love you and I’d be happy to trip over your heels forever. Now, do you want to move in or not? You can say no.”

You don’t want to say no.

“Your apartment is bigger than mine…and your shower has better water pressure.” You slowly say, cheeks still squished slightly between his palms.

Spencer begins to break out in a grin, but he lets you finish.

“And I could get to work faster…and I like the thought of never having to go back to my apartment for clean clothes.” Then you pause and look back up to his eye. “It would be nice to share something with you besides my entire heart and body and soul.”

How dare you say something so loving and honest, and just sit there like you were always meant to say these sort of words to him. Spencer is going to be love sick his entire life, he has no back bone, he is not a man but your man and this is all he has ever wanted. He starts to nod with starry eyes, slowly bringing his face closer to yours. “So?” He presses.

“So yes, I want to move in!” You say in a gleeful tone, throwing your arms around his neck as you rush a kiss to him.

You can’t help the cheerful laugh that leaves you, it makes it hard to kiss when Spencer is doing the same thing, completely at your will as you nudge him to shift and lay down on the cushions, you falling on top of him.

This is usually how it goes.

Someone makes a small move and then both of you get carried away. Neither of you ever seem to mind. You could spend an hour kissing and doing nothing else, but you haven’t felt the heat of him in ten days and nights, so you’re hungry for the breath in his lungs and the electricity in his fingers.

Spencer’s hands start to wander as you sit on his hips, kissing him slow and deep. They smooth up your thighs, over your underwear and up your back. Your mind is always as good as blank whenever those hands are on you.

“I’m never leaving again.” He declares, trying to work on the buttons of his shirt that you wear.

You sit up to help him. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen, I only ever want to be here.”

You push the fabric off, leaving you in your lacy bra that he thinks is almost too pretty to take off.

Almost.

“Right here? On your couch?” You question sarcastically, fingers in his hair as he sits up to taste the skin of your neck.

“Yes, on my couch, about to show you how much I missed you.” He clarifies.

It’s blissful and exciting, how he ends up between your thighs, giving you relentless pleasure with no indication that he’s ready for you to return the favor. He’d stay like this all night if you wanted, tongue on nerves, fingers drawing out pretty noises from your blushed lips. It’s because it’s as good as breathing, having you reacting the way you do, tasting you in the most intimate way.

“Spence, baby.” You whine, legs threatening to shut.

He’s working you up, pushing you closer to the edge, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. Your hand tightens in his hair, holding him close as you plead for your finish. There’s no need to beg, Spencer would give this to you all day long.

When you do get to that point, it’s throwing you into another existence momentarily. A rather desperate moan frees from your throat, your head digging into the arm of the couch. It makes you feel warm and shaky. You have to blink harshly for your vision to clear.

“I- mmm.” You hum as he comes up to kiss you, it’s sinful the way you taste yourself on his tongue. “I think you’re the most perfect person in the history of persons.”

Spencer chuckles. “I’d correct your grammar but I don’t think your minds working at full speed right now.”

It’s true, everything is slow and fuzzy, yet you still find the urge to ask for more.

“We don’t have to.” He says, wanting to make sure you don’t feel obligated.

You never do, your drive just happens to be something he marvels at. In all actuality, he’s learned that he can match your pace, so it’s always fine. The two of you could spend nights on end falling into each other, either softly or with a hunger.

Tonight is probably one of those nights.

That’s how it seems when he has you in the bedroom after taking you on the sofa.

It’s your shared apartment now, he could probably have you on every available surface. But he has you in his sheets, teeth dragging across his skin, bare and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sex is never just sex with Spencer, even when it feels like it. Like when he comes straight to your apartment after a bad day and you offer yourself as a cure. It’s never just using each other, it’s all feeling and praise and making sure the other is reassured and happy. It’s nerves on fire and constantly stroking those deep, hidden parts of heavy pleasure inside each other that have never been brought to life. There’s borders pushed, you just let it happen because there is no way you’d ever want to say no and deny yourself the feeling of what he does to you. He has you arching with an empty head thrown back against the pillow as your tongue goes lame and you can no longer properly tell him how amazing it feels. Spencer has an idea, given the way you shudder and make the most criminal and attractive sounds he’s going to be replaying in his mind forever.

You learn a lot about care in the moments following bliss. Spencer could be compared to an animal of prey, the way he comforts without question, wipes tears from your face and does anything you ask of him.

“Hey.” He calls softly, leaning up on his side, watching you with your messy hair sprawled on the pillow. “You still with me, angel?”

You hum, head feeling heavy as you turn it to face him. You’re there…most of you is.

You suck on your bottom lip like you always tend to do, not needing words as you nod.

His hand reaches for your cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin. “Overwhelmed?” He asks in an intimate tone, one he only uses with you.

You curl yourself closer to him. “A lot of feelings…I feel a lot.” You jumble, brows furrowed as you try to get power back to your limbs.

He hums, understanding, adjusting to hold you. “It’s the endorphins.” He speaks. “You have a high release of them during sex, then it all comes crashing down post orgasm. Your body’s trying to regulate your dopamine, because you got a thousand milligram shot of it basically, and now the high is coming to an end.”

You love it when he proves just how smart he is. It’s also insanely hilarious if you think about it, because he was just leaving bruises on your thighs as he pushed deep inside of you over and over, and now he’s explaining the science behind everything he made happen for you. To say the least, you were insanely in love with how much of a nerd he is.

“I feel good though. Not sad or anything…just sensitive.” You breathe out, somehow your voice trembles and squeaks, nudging closer to his skin like you need it pressed to yours or you won’t live.

“What do you need?” He asks in concern, tightening his arms around you like a weighted blanket.

You could cry. You won’t, but you could at the way he’s so caring and gentle. In what life do you do good enough in order to deserve him?

This one.

Shifting to see him face to face, your hand rests on his jaw, your thumb brushing the stubble there, and then traces to his upper lip. You like when he doesn’t shave, it makes him look more mature.

“I just need you.” You tell him, continuing your slow rubbing motions. It’s all you can say because you’re not sure he’ll understand that you have the urge to be wrapped in his skin and bones entirely, like you could just absorb into him and be your happiest.

Spencer knew in all of those years of awkward strike outs and getting ignored, that when the day came when he’d have a you to tell him sweet things and caress gently, he’d have to recognize the feeling. He’d have to be aware that this was a gift and to not be blind to the fact in front of him. The fact being that he has someone to love who loves him back just the same, and now he has to use that fact in every choice moving forward.

‘Honeymoon’ months have come and gone and though the two of you did argue once in a blue moon, things were great and were going to stay great.

He thinks a lot about this as he stares at his book page, leaned back in a chair next to the sill of the tub you reside in. Warm water relaxes you, scented bath soap makes your skin smell fresh.

You’re watching your painted toes pop up from the water, perfectly content with his hand twisting a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I like my bedsheets…they’re soft and broke in.” You say promptly.

“I’ll take my sheets off the bed, you can put yours on.” He tells you.

You turn the hot water dial on and off with your foot quickly. “You’ll let me put my stockings in your sock and underwear drawer?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t laugh at me when I come to bed in nightgowns because I spent way too much money at a 1960’s lingerie store?”

“Did you really do that?” He asks, looking down at you, taking better notice of your hair as he does.

You must have given yourself a trim again, your bang part isn’t straight. You’re always changing your hair on the whim and it’s never perfect, but it always looks great on you.

“I was really bored while you were gone.” You exclaim. “The girls and I went shopping and I somehow ended up with lace teddy’s in four different colors.”

“Which colors?”

“Yellow, pink, blue and purple.”

“I like purple.” He nods.

You smile, then turn over to gaze up at him, arms resting on the edge of the tub. “I love you.”

He looks away from the inked words on the page and to you, resting your cocked head on your folded arms. “I love you too.” He says, leaning down and kissing your temple.

Then he drops the bomb.

“Oh, we’re going over to Rossi’s and you have to meet the team.”

“Now!?” You panic.

“No, no, angel.” He laughs.

- - - -

“My hair.” You fuss.

“You’re beautiful.” Spencer reminds, leading you to the escalator after you get off the metro.

You’ve made every excuse in the book not to go tonight, you’ve worried yourself sick about absolutely nothing.

“Is Rossi really rich?” You ask, wrapping your arm around him as he crowds your space on the moving stairs, hand on your waist, not minding one bit at how you shrink into him as he faces forward.

“Extremely rich, actually. Sometimes I think I should write a book or two and live his lifestyle.” He tries to joke, but you merely groan.

“I should’ve worn different boots, nicer ones.” You sat into his sweater vest.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks.

“These are my nicest boots!” You protest, and Spencer just laughs because he knew that’s exactly what you’d say.

He likes that fact, that he knows you well enough to predict the words from your perfect mouth.

His hand rubs your hip, feeling the thick material of your coat. “Your shoes aren’t going to make them love you, honey, they’re going to love you because you’re you.”

A frown pouts at your red stained lips despite the way you swoon over his sweet words. Spencer is always good at stringing together terms of endearment to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, I’m me, and people tend to not like me for obvious reasons.”

He doesn’t like those words coming from your mouth.

“I like you.” He chimes.

“Yes but you’re weird.”

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend who just put together a brand new bookcase for your things.”

You smile now, still clinging to him as the two of you head up to the night street. You’ll get a cab and you’ll be unsteady all the way to Rossi’s mansion of a home.

“I’m scared.” You squeeze his hand, staring at the iron door knocker.

Spencer squeezes back. “They pick on me, but they won’t pick on you. Besides, if you want to impress Rossi, just say a few things in Italian and tell him about your year abroad.”

“Vuoi fare sesso con me?”

His brows draw. “What’s that mean?”

You bite your smile. “Something I really can’t say to your boss.”

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door.

This is the end. They’ll hate you, you’re sure of it and then Spencer will break up with you because his team will tell him he should ditch you and-

“Reid! You’re finally here!” An older man opens the door, dark hair slicked back, maintained facial hair, gold chain. He quickly ushers the two of you inside.

When his attention is turned to you, he is warm and inviting, introducing himself as David, calling you Italian terms of endearment, leading you to his living room after taking your coat.

The team- more like a family- is all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand and laughing.

You’re thrown into the mix and come to realize you made it all up in your head.

The wine helps.

While the others are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Spencer Reid who doesn’t shake hands is showing signs of PDA, the girls who have been plotting for some time are pulling you away from him.

Spencer watches your eyes widen and he opens his mouth to suggest that maybe it’s not the best idea but Morgan sits him back down.

That’s how you end up in the guest bathroom with a bottle of wine and three women who ask you question and question. And as the four of you get tipsier and tipsier, all nerve is lost.

“We moved in together.” You say after handing the bottle to Penelope.

The three exclaim in surprise.

“He never tells us anything.” JJ frowns, possibly the most lightweight of them all.

Emily, who you learn gets more buzzed off of energy than anything, snickers a bit. “Sorry, I just got the image in my head of Reid sleeping in a twin size bed next to yours.”

The rest of you join her laughter.

“We share a bed.” You state, wondering why you thought these women were going to be monsters.

“Aw does he wear his pajamas and night cap too?” Penelope giggles. “Oh! Oh! Does he snore?”

She proceeds to imitate a very fake yet cute way of snoring.

“No, no. You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. He-he’s very normal, no striped pajamas, no oil lamp-”

“Ha! Oil lamp, that’s a good one.” JJ snorts.

“-just normal night routines, normal sex life, normal-ish sleep schedule.”

The three pause and you don’t even realize what you’ve given them.

“Normal sex life?” Emily questions, leaving you to drink from the bottle in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said normal sex life.” Penelope presses.

“Oh…yeah.” Your cheeks go red.

The three cringe.

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah, there’s no way Reid has a sex life and I don’t.”

“I’m never gonna get this image out of my head.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Spencer is getting a similar interview.

“You love her?” Rossi asks with a proud smile.

“I do.” Spencer nods.

“She’s going to be moving in next.” Hotch jokes, fully being satire.

“No, she’s already done that. I’m going to marry her next.”

The men freeze and their eyes widen.

Their Spencer Reid, the young genius with a funny haircut who was just 24, is sitting here now talking about marriage.

“You’re too young for that, kid.” Rossi states, the others seeming to agree.

Only Spencer has thought of this for countless nights. Sure, he isn’t going to marry you tomorrow but he is going to marry you.

“I’m thirty, that’s a very average time for a man to marry. Besides, why would I push it off? I’m not waiting to be sure if she’s the one, I already know that.” He says like it’s so simple.

There’s no reasoning with him because he already has his reasons. The men realize this and accept it, because who were they to try and damper his mood? Everybody loves somebody, and Spencer finally fits that description.

- - - -

Crash

“I broke your plant.” You frown, stumbling over your feet, clinging onto Spencer as he pulls you through the apartment.

“That’s alright, it was more your plant than mine.” He reassures, trying to get you to the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn’t have left you with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia for that long. Now all three of you were wine drunk. He’s just grateful he only has to take care of you. Emily passed out on Rossi’s couch, Morgan was trying to wrangle Penelope when the two of you left.

“Your friends are nice.” You slur, hair in your face as he flicks on the bathroom light and sits you on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, real nice.” He huffs, pulling your hair up into a bun before going to grab your toothbrush.

“You’re mad?” You frown, mouth opening as he starts to brush your teeth for you.

Spencer looks down at you, one hand holding your chin while the other works the brush back and forth. “No, angel, never at you.” He reassures.

Once that task was tackled and he helps remove your makeup, he supports you all the way to the bedroom where he sits you in the bed and crouches to unzip your boots and pull them off.

Your eyes squeeze shut in hopes to get rid of the blur, and you yelp as he tugs your stockings down too roughly on accident. As your head hits the mattress, you erupt in a fit of giggles. Spencer can only apologize with a smile and kiss your knee.

“You’re taking my clothes off.” You state the obvious.

“Yes, I am.” He says, sitting you up after he pulls off your skirt to pull your sweater over your head.

“Careful now, I’m a married woman.” You joke, pulling at his sweater vest.

“Oh, are you?” He questions, pushing your hands away. The action draws a childish whine to escape you.

“No, sadly I’m not. I’m a spinster.” You sigh.

“That’s not what that means, lovely.” Spencer laughs.

“Doesn’t matter! Take off your clothes.” You whine and pull at the sweater again.

“Hey, I’m trying to get you ready for bed.” He dodges your advances once more, though it’s hard when you’re begging for a kiss.

Spencer kisses your nose and then goes to the dresser to retrieve a t shirt to slide on you when you’re just down to your underwear.

“I want a real kiss.” You frown, refusing to get in bed until you get it.

Spencer leans to softly peck your lips, once, twice, three times.

“Get in bed, I’ll get you some water.” He says, pulling back and motioning to the pillows.

With an audible humph, you do your best to crawl to your spot and slide into the sheets that came from your old apartment.

Spencer returns quickly with a glass of water, sets it on your bedside table and proceeds to get changed himself, well aware of your gaze.

“Spencer?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“You should make me your wife, I’d be a good one.”

He looks over at you, mostly covered in darkness accept for the light coming in from the window. You look so peaceful, watching him with love, saying the most perfect things.

“I know you would, pretty girl.” He smiles.

You’re satisfied with that answer.

Patting the empty space, you beckon him to your side, wanting to be tangled together. Spencer comes to his side of the mattress, the side closest to the door, and slips under the covers and helps you adjust into him.

Mostly incoherent, you speak. “We could get married, I could change my last name to Reid and we’d be the smartest couple around, you and me.”

Spencer hums, lying on his back as you nuzzle into his chest. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“I won’t ever ask for a divorce either, I wouldn’t even spend all your money.”

“Is that what you think wives do?”

You shrug. “That’s what my dad says about my mom.”

Kissing your head, he beckons you to go to sleep and you could continue this conversation another time.

“…Take your clothes off.” You say, shut eyes and mischievous smile.

“No, go to sleep.”

[punkkture]

only his

you were just being sweet. its not your fault he took it the wrong way. but you should be grateful that he was doing this for you . . he was just trying to keep you safe.

part one

simon riley x f!reader

warnings: 18+ , kidnapper!simon , taboo material , degradation , age difference , size difference , implied ddlg dynamics , lil bit of pet play teehee , simon is mean asf

c.ai bot

a week has passed. you think. you couldnt tell for sure. the walls of his home all looked too familiar and overpowering by now. he wouldn’t let you leave. he couldnt. in his mind. . . what would happen to you if you did? what if someone tried to hurt you? you should be grateful he did this to you and not some sick and deranged man. he was only keeping you safe.

you should be thankful he keeps you clean and fed and comfortable. even if that meant on a leash connected to his tight and controlling fist. you were made to be his, you just had to realize that. that soft skin and that gorgeous hair, that was his. and simon does not share. ghost is different — ghost is a leader, a friend and trusted teammate, a lieutenant. simon riley on the other hand . . he constantly needed to let off steam. he always needed to have an outlet. a delicate and pretty little outlet that he could let his anger out on and coddle in the same breath.

laying on the floor by his feet, he was sitting on the couch above you — watching some random movie and taking long swigs of the hard liquor he knew he spent too much money on. it tore at your heart, it all did. the idea alone of this happening was too much for your sensitive heart to withstand. thinking about the day you first met him.

months ago back when your sophomore year of college had just started . . it was a small campus, nothing that would grant applaud and recognition but you enjoyed it. small town that felt homey and had a good art history course. it never took much to comfort you, so it worked perfectly. it was familiar and cozy. simon, was familiar and cozy. since the majority of the small city was the campus you often saw locals at the quant library.

simon was good at this and he knew he was. his dark cedar eyes couldnt leave the sight of you when you first came in. oh god, it was like his soul was lurching out to you. he hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. the best way he could describe it at first was being a kid and seeing someone else play with his favorite stuffed animal. it was his. you were his. for months you have been, how could you of not known? you really thought that he accidentally bumped into you? that he was just so clumsy, your books all fell from your arms? something as delicate as you needed someone to watch out for you.

simon would stress every night when he was away on deployment that you were getting hit on by some college boy, what if they tried to take advantage of you and he wasnt around? the thought alone caused him to groan in bed and seethe in anger the rest of the night. four months into your sophomore year, he decided he had enough of worrying, he needed to have you at home with him. he needed you safe with him. you were just such a sweet thing, like a little deer that didnt know there were hunters and wolves out to get a trophy like you.

simon kept you near him anytime he possibly could — and when he couldnt, you were drugged out of it and left in the basement. but that was only on rare occasions, he didnt know what he was going to do in two months when he had to be deployed again. for now though, he would enjoy your shuddered breaths and knotted hair. he would always brush it out for you — always take care of you.

the expensive shag rug pressed up against your cheek. sniffling softly and sadly as a placid whine fell from your lips. the emotions were too strong to hold in. there was too much that was missed. a loving heart like yours could barely withstand this. simon didnt like that. he didnt like that sound. he snapped his arm up, yanking on the leash he had around your neck.

“the hell are you whinin’ about now?” his voice growled. he was sick and tired of you acting ungrateful.

the sound of the metal links connecting the leash and collar clanked together as he forced your neck to jerk upwards. a muffled whine and pant left your lips at the force he used. your delicate skin normally so soft was rubbed raw and bruised from the leather material. it was no use fighting him. you knew that much. you were damned if you answered and damned if you didn’t. a nervous stutter left your lips.

simon was not in a good mood today. and he wasn’t in any mood for your ungrateful attitude. a huffed out deep breath left him as he watched you struggle to speak. it was so pathetic, it almost made him regret the entire thing.

he yanked it harder. “spit it out,”

you yelped when he pulled. “h-hurts,” was the only thing you could mumbled out with tears starting to form in your eyes. trying to blink them away so he didn’t see.

but once he caught a glimpse, an angry growl came from his chest. why were tears beginning to fill your pretty, sadden eyes? he didnt like that. not at all. he wanted to see the happy sparkle you always had in them. the sparkle he loved so much. there was just something in himself he couldn’t control. maybe it was the part of him that never dealt with emotions well when he was younger.

“it doesn’t hurt. don’t lie to me.” his gruff tone almost made it seem like he was scolding.

a frustrated whine left your lips involuntarily. his fingers coming up to card between the collar and your skin. “see? not tight at all . . . you’re just finding reasons to complain,”

he shoved you back down to the ground.

this was so frustrating. you didnt know what to do anymore. there wasnt really anything you could do. you had to be docile and listen. that was the only way out of this — that was where this ended.

but you couldn’t help the angered and sad groan that crawled its way up from your lungs and rumbled in your throat. brows furrowing as tears started to flood your eyes and pour down your cheeks. this wasnt fair. why was it you? why did this have to happen to you.

simon could sense your frustration and his hold on his whiskey glass was hard enough to almost break it. “somethin’ else you wanna say, dog?” he growled. he needed to break you down. once you were at your weakest was when you would search for him, yearn for him. not this idea of some home that you used to know — a life that wasn’t fulfilling enough. you needed to understand that this was where you were meant to be. in his home. in his grasp. in his heart.

these were the moments where he knew his plan was starting to work. when you raised your voice and practically barked at him.

“i hate you! i hate this stupid fucking leash! i hate this stupid fucking house! i hate you!” your voice rang out as you sat up as best as you could from the floor, looking into his eyes through your glassy and hazy tears.

a wolfish grin spread across his face. he was utterly lost in this fibonacci spiral of deep manipulation and sociopathic desire for you.

his glass slammed down on the wooden end table, his rough and cold palms grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled. frustrated yelps and whines of pain left your lips as he pulled you up onto his lap. you fought every bit of the way. arms flailing out at him as sobs escaped your mouth.

he forced you to stay still. your soft locks trapped into a knotted mess in his fist. your wrists gripped by his other hand as the bones rubbed together in a painful way that made you squeal.

“how naive are you? how stupid are you, huh baby?” he seethed. his voice was mocking and angry. his eyes held secrets and depths that not even millions of years of searching could produce answers for. “when will you learn how good you have it? you think you were ever really happy living that life you did?” he bit.

simon almost felt bad. but he would never admit that. he would never admit anything he felt. not really at least.

his entire life he has had things given and then taken away. teammates, friends, family. those things most important to him always ran risk of just disappearing. simon craved for something to just be his. for something to belong to him and only him. he shared nothing. not his name, not his title, not his accomplishments or comrades. nothing was truly ever his and only his.

he could keep you safe. keep you protected and away from all those dangers the world harvested. why wouldn’t you just listen? you frustrated him to no end. but god did he love you. he loved you so much in such a sick and depraved way. his stomach lurched and twisted at the thought of something bad happening to you outside of his grasp.

the issue with simon was that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t figure out how to truly care for something. not in an emotional sense, but in a physical sense. his entire life has been surrounded with death and gunmetal. the smell of blood and cheap meals. there was not the warm pink and soft touch type of love he has been yearning for his entire life.

to just come home and fall into someone’s arms that cared. it broke and glued him back together in this demented way. and thats why you were here now. stuck between his cold and calloused palms and muscled chest.

your sobs had slowed from the display he just gave. your mind snapped back into place a little bit — remembering the consequences of the actions you could or could not take. your eyes looking into his. hoping to find a little bit of the human he had showed you those months you first knew him.

“i want to go home please”

he could’ve laughed. but he felt he had showed you enough malice for one hour already.

“you are home, sweetie.”

eeeek part one who’s excited ??

[delliebre]

how to not make color variation look ass i have color jitter on a lot of my brushes but if i turn it up too much it just looks ununified and bad - your colors look so good!! and like i keep the values but ig it just looks off? like ive noticed a lot of nice green-kind-of spots in ur art among other colors and like its there but it's all really harmonious and stuff

it is hard to explain further than me saying "use a light touch". I am light with my strokes. I build up the work with lots of layered, quick, and short brushing. The color jitter then is way more subtle as I build it. I have more control.

I think it is important to compare the first block-in to the final so we can see the foundational colors. Here is an isolation. I start in a closer value range most times and expand both ways on the value scale as I progress. The colors expand also. For this I did not have a plan for the final, as at the start I chose cooler light but decided on warmth later. I choose muted tones with muted value. My main render brushes do not have color dynamics because control is increasingly important with progression.

here are my settings for the block-in brush. I recommend keeping brightness jitter low for subtlety.

If the values are close, but the colors are still seeming off, to harmonize, if we are talking about skin, (but applies generally) I would take the average skin tone and glaze the problem areas with it. Can be done in normal layer or color blend mode. I like normal layer. Be light with this. In being light, we keep our textures built up from all the layering and the subtle color variation.

So, first image is the value range I start with, second is sometimes what I end with. Minus pure black and pure white. This is planned. However, it can be irritating working in values you know are not final, the ugly stage stays longer, but I still prefer this.

You can also try adding a new digital layer and brush what colors you want and then lowering the opacity or erasing. Perks of digital.

Also, the color spots, of greens and whatever, are not blankets. They are blotched, the main color when you squint is an acceptable, not too wild color for skin. The little color pops and changes do not overpower. I could make the whole cheek a bit more green, in the same values, but it would feel off because it is blanketing when it should be just thread among the main average. I want to go in and out with the colors for vibration. The acceptable colors have the liberty to blanket, not the additions. But this depends one what is required of the work/what the artist wants to see.

before: sort of filtered look as I keep a close range of value and color, planning to add variation later..(patience is hard)

after: added variation and expanded value range built up slowly

hope this helps you. Sorry it is hard to explain what is intuitive to me I do not think about this stuff in words.. when I make mistakes painting I just call myself stupid and try to correct it. A lot of "why would you do that?" and "WTF?"

but still it is fun keep experimenting! Thank you!

I actually would like to edit the colors, but better to go onto the next one instead of berating my past decisions.

[floralcavern]

Charlie and Vaggie are BORING.

For a while, I was a Charlastor shipper. Then they were like “but what if Alastor had a maturity level to be her dad?” so I was like “Oh, nevermind-“ and now I’m highkey a Charlie x Emily shipper. But why, why, WHY is Charlie x Vaggie so damn BORING?! Well, here’s some good videos to watch on that before I discuss-

So, what could have been done to fix this? Because I usually LOVE the black cat x golden retriever ship? But the fun part of it is seeing how they bounce off each other/affect each other. We kind of get that, but like… every characters’ relationship in this series is so shallow that we don’t get it much. And Charlie is just a bad protag overall, but, whatever..

So, Charlie being THIS naive pisses me off. She is the Princess of Hell!!!!! Why is she so clueless about everything? There’s a difference between positivity and seeing the best in everyone vs being… kind of stupid. And what makes it more annoying is that Vaggie is more self aware of how this place works than Charlie, THE HELLBORN. I think it would not only be more fun, but also make more sense, if Vaggie was more naive than Charlie about how this place works. They can still keep their same personalities, of course, but Vaggie still thinks and remembers how Heaven functioned and worked and Charlie, trying to be ever so positive, is just like “Oh.. ya.. another turf war. But hey! Only 100 people died this time! Ahaha.. ha..” and Vaggie, being an exorcist Angel, is like, “Ya, aha… WAIT, WHAT-???” because she’s still just not entirely used to that idea and then she’s like, “Oh, right.. ya, that’s not that bad,” when she remembers just HOW bad this place is. Like, she goes in expecting the worst because she already thinks everyone here is awful, but then she’s always thrown for a loop for just how awful it really is. I can imagine this would be pretty funny.

“You disgusting sinner. I can only imagine the absolute vile things you did, you-!”

“Ya, I exploited babies.”

“….You what?”

“I exploited. Babies.”

“….H-How? How do you do that? What? Why? What the fuck???”

Also, MAKE CHARLIE CRASS! But, like, in such a sweetheart kind of way. If characters are going to swear, give them their own ways and cadences for how they do it, rather than making them all sound like middle schoolers. That was something I really liked they did with Alastor.

Charlie, when she swears, it just doesn’t sound mean at all. When she says bitch, it sounds like she’s saying “sweetheart”. When she says fuck, it’s purely out of excitement and joy. But, she is crass because she was born and raised here and Vaggie, meanwhile, never swears (because in my version, the angels never swear, not even the exorcists) until the series goes on and she does it more and more with more aggression. I think that’d be funny, especially if it was Charlie’s influence that rubbed off on her.

Also, one thing I’d find interesting for a good arc between their relationship that would make them come out stronger in the end is if Vaggie was, like.. accidentally racist toward Charlie on multiple occasions. Charlie, being a sweetheart, is like “Oh, no, pffft, i-it’s fine! She didn’t mean it!” and everyone else at the hotel is like “🤨” but after Vaggie being an exorcist is revealed, Charlie snaps more at Vaggie when she undermines Charlie for being hellborn, eventually calling her out. I can believe Charlie forgiving Vaggie fast for being an exorcist, that’s in character, but that’s the problem! Because then, it feels kind of… ‘eh’ and like it really didn’t do much to develop their relationship. Giving it some sort of barrier that’s been around since the very beginning that Charlie now finally has the courage to call Vaggie out on will make it feel like there’s actual change in the relationship.

And now… SHOW THEM DO COUPLE SHIT! Or, at the very least, them having an actual dynamic rather than just “I protect youuuuu…” I swear, background handholding and stuff is fine, but it’s all fluff!!! Show what they’re actually like as a couple. Show them getting ready for bed together! Charlie cursing up a storm when she’s really excited and Vaggie is so shocked, but also kind of into it, but also kind of horrified because she just is still in that mindset of full, complete purity. And, most of all, PLEASE JUST SHOW THEM FLIRTING! Please, please, please!!! It’s not that hard, PLEASE!!! It does wonders for showing the characters’ personalities and relationships. How do they flirt, how do they react to flirting, what makes them uncomfortable, what makes them flustered, what’s considered common flirting between them, what’re some inside jokes they have? Just… SHOW THEM BEING AN ACTUAL COUPLE, PLEASE.

If I have to rely solely on fanwork for me to find the MAIN COUPLE even remotely interesting, then you’re doing a bad job writing them!

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

when you made a mistake of saying Rose isn’t straight on tiktok and now you have 250 people proving you she didn’t love Pearl:……..

you want to know something very ironic?

susan egan, the voice of rose quartz, brings up pearl + rose’s relationship every. chance. she can get. & she describes them as having a relationship! she brought them up in the recent livestream, she sang the rose with pearl’s va on youtube. so many people who work for steven universe have stated that the love between pearl and rose is mutual. voice actors and storyboard artists have portrayed the characters as being in a relationship. rebecca sugar even confirmed that they’re not unrequited. the people who made pearlrose, essentially, either ship them or at the very least see their dynamic as being one that involves mutual feelings that go beyond platonic.

“i don’t know if i would call it unrequited!” — rebecca sugar interrupting an interviewer who describes pearl + rose as unrequited

“if it’s not, then i’ve misunderstood the whole thing!” — storyboarder raven molisee, also responsible for rose’s scabbard, when asked if the relationship between pearl + rose is romantic.

“i LOVE these two so i was absolutely ecstatic to draw this scene. i remember being really pressed to pack all of their passion and pearl’s smugness into one moment that lasts the length of a guitar solo… and their fusion that’s just an embodiment of that into one giant, shamelessly beautiful dancer!” — katie mitroff about fusion in we need to talk

rose quartz is my comfort character & even that is an understatement. she’s so much like me and she’s so meaningful, and i wish that more of the fandom could see this.

the way that her character is perceived really reflects some of the issues that we see in real life as well.

she’s amazing for understanding mental illness & trauma and that responses to pain are not always pretty. things are complicated & so are people. some people in the steven universe fandom want to oversimplify things by often making her a heartless villain. on the other hand, i feel like some rose fans act like she’s done nothing wrong or they like to downplay her issues and mental health struggles. not necessarily here, but elsewhere. some people hate the idea that rose’s decision to give up her physical form was self destructive, but it absolutely was. she’s not a villain but she is a cautionary tale. she has a big heart but she’s absolutely flawed. she never wanted to hurt anyone, but she did.

she’s amazing for body positivity in ways that go beyond simple things like appearance, but people are… so weird about it sometimes. i still remember being twelve years old & reading comments about how rose was “pretending to be fat” the whole time after the pink diamond reveal. that was… really upsetting to read! six years later, i’m trying to help folks understand that this is not the case. there’s so much more depth and detail and comfort, really, than those silly reddit jokes and fandom hostility.

… and she’s amazing for sapphic representation. she’s canonically m-spec but the fandom can be so, so weird about that. as a bisexual girl myself, it bothers me so much that we need to convince so many people that she loved pearl while pretty much everyone validates her relationship with a man. not only validates… they see it as perfect and better and i don’t usually see people talk about the many flaws of that relationship. yes, pearl + rose’s relationship was flawed too. rose has a pattern of unstable relationships! but people can be codependent and genuinely in love at the same time. they can be in bad situations but they can still be… genuinely in love. & pearl and rose’s relationship is not less valid because people perceive their relationship as… more flawed than the other relationship (mainly because lots of people don’t think about the other relationship’s issues)

the biggest misconception of pearl and rose’s relationship is that their love wasn’t real

the biggest misconception of rose and greg’s relationship is that they got married

that’s very interesting to me.

if rose isn’t seen as a straight up villain, i find that lots of the fandom puts so much importance on two things: having a relationship with a man, and being a mother. & as a girl who relates to her, i think there’s so much more to her character and i’ll stop there because i have an entire thing i wrote about rose & the fandom here! /np/nf

i’m sorry about the fandom, anon. i’d go on tiktok and defend you but i don’t have a tiktok account because of my adhd (racing thoughts + a bunch of videos about different things at once = not my favourite app). you’re absolutely right and i wish more people understood that.

[butterflydm]

rings of power (belated reactions) season 1: eps 1-4

Backstory: I'm a casual Tolkien fan, I would say -- grew up watching the animated movies (literally knew the songs by heart as a kid); read LOTR & the Hobbit but not the Silm; loved both the LOTR and the Hobbit movies. Read a bunch of fanfiction over the years by people who know a lot more about the lore than I do.

I tried watching the new series when the first season came out, but still felt like the pacing was really slow by the end of the second episode, so never got around to watching more.

Found out about the twist at the end of s1 and was intrigued, but not quite enough to give it another watch. Heard more bits and bobs about s2 when it came out, with people who share some of the same tastes in media as me enjoying it (shoutout to @markantonys). Liked and reblogged some interesting giftsets. Finally decided to give it another try.

Below contains vague spoilers for the whole show so far and for LotR

I went ahead and rewatched the first two episodes, and I found myself getting a lot more out of it this time than the first time. I remembered liking the dwarves a lot, and still really enjoyed that plotline, but I was able to get into the other plotlines a lot more as well this time. I actually do feel like I get what the pacing is doing now, even if it didn't work as well for me the first time around -- we start with the single thread of Galadriel's search for Sauron and then keep expanding outward from there, introducing the other important plotlines gradually. It was, perhaps, slightly too gradual for me in my first try at watching!

I've seen through episode four now and am thoroughly enjoying the show, enough that I plan to watch more of it with my mom later today.

Things really do pick up with increasing speed after episode 2. We also get some amazing costuming in Númenor -- the queen in particular has some great outfits, but I also really love the banded dress that Galadriel wears there.

My mom (unspoiled about the show) is fully willing to go with the theory that Adar is Sauron going by another name (as proposed by Arondir's (now deceased) guard-captain).

Now, unlike my mom, I am spoiled about the show and so I am watching Halbrand very carefully. One thing that I do find interesting is that the show starts out with Galadriel narrating that nothing begins as evil, so I do feel like that feeling is meant to extend to Halbrand/Sauron as well. Which is to say, I give him the benefit of the doubt that he actually does want to stay in Númenor and start a new life (whether or not he could actually stick to that once he'd spent several years there... that's more of an open question). I don't think his plan at this time is to return to Middle-Earth and set up shop there.

Both Nori and Galadriel have talked about feeling like there is something important about sticking with their mysterious respective stranger. Both of whom are Maiar (Maia? I did mention that I'm mostly a casual fan of Tolkien, lol). They both just give off the vibe of being important and consequential... to specific people. Not to everyone that they run across.

I really like what they're doing with Halbrand -- they are definitely leaning on his superficial (and false) similarities to Aragorn in LotR and, especially when he was in the prison cell, there were some moments when he really looked like Viggo too. I feel like I've already seen a lot of range from him as a character -- we've seen him being persuasive and diplomatic; we've seen a brutal flash of temper and violence; and we've seen him give Galadriel advice on how to manipulate people; we've also seen him teasing and bantering with Galadriel (very much enjoying their dynamic in these episodes).

Speaking of Galadriel, I am enjoying her a lot. She doesn't stop! Willpower and determination just always constantly turned to a thousand. She decides what's going to happen and then doesn't let anything stand in her way.

I'm glad that we got back to Elrond's storyline in the fourth episode and caught up with Durin and the dwarves. I did spend a lot of time trying to remember if Moria and Khazad-dûm were the same place (yes) and so that means that it may well be these unsafe mithril mining practices that lead to the Balrog waking up and the mountain being abandoned by the dwarves. I don't know the timelines well enough to know for sure. It made sense to me that it was the same place, because of the elf word for 'friend' being the word to open the gates into Moria in LotR.

Though I am fairly well spoiled about certain things about Sauron, I am still missing a lot of the connective tissue about the various plotlines, so I don't know what the blood-drinking sword is going to lead to yet. Except that it means that the mayor (tavern owner?) of the village was a true believer in Sauron even after all these years and has been keeping it. And probably encouraging the rest of his people not to trust the elves.

Super-minor note: I love the costuming for Bronwyn -- the blue dress with the reddish boots. It really pops against all the other characters in her storyline and she's always easy to spot. Appreciate that!

There really is a heartbreaking contrast between the lives of the people of Númenor and the people of the Southlands.

What are the Valar trying to do in all this? Was it the Valar who made the petals fall or was Halbrand/Sauron trying to help Galadriel out? He seems to enjoy... how did he put it? Her galloping around full-speed like a colt? Something like that, lol. So he might have wanted to give her a chance to get what she wanted from the queen. Playing multiple sides against each other seems to come pretty naturally to him.

We are seeing that ambition is being set up to lead to doom already in Middle-Earth, even without Sauron's direct presence -- Celebrimbor explicitly wants to create objects of power, not just objects of beauty. Adar is trying to find that blood-drinking hilt and is leading the Orcs to some kind of terror (he's already enslaving people in his search). And the dwarves have been mining in the dangerous old mines because they found a vein of mithril there.

Gil-galad tried to send Galadriel away to Valinor because he foresaw that her continued hunt for Sauron might end up bringing his danger back to the forefront and, from what I know (spoiler-wise) that ends up being true (in fairness, she did find Sauron! Even if she doesn't know it yet! And he will get defeated. You know. Eventually.)

Other things of note: I love Disa! Disa is wonderful. Disa-Durin-Elrond could make for a very nice polycule. What if Elrond had made it to their wedding and there hadn't been any estrangement! But I really like that we saw some consequences for long elven lifespans and how it can affect their relationships with people who don't live as long.

I like the angsty young teens well enough, though Theo is definitely in the roughest situation out of any of them (see: the Southlands kinda sucking as a place to live). Definitely perked up when I heard Elendil and Isildur's names!

I'm really curious about whether or not the isle of Númenor turning against the elves is all based on them being more insular and isolationist or if there's something else at work. That the old king was trying to return to the ancient elven ways because of a vision in a palantir... very curious where that vision is coming from. Galadriel's arrival being tied to the breaking of the sea wall and the destruction of the city. I... don't know my Middle-Earth history enough to say for certain, but I suspect Sauron is gonna be involved in that. Because it's Sauron.

Arondir is our most plainly heroic character overall, I'd say (Galadriel is driven by vengence; Arondir's focus has been on trying to save and protect) and he is very dreamy. I do like that we have these PoVs in the Southlands and what's going on there, so we see that Galadriel is justified in feeling like there is still evil to fight.

Having a lot of fun with this. Glad I gave it a second chance.

[filthyf1]

A Long Short Time

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+); Porn WITH Plot, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, slightly tipsy sex?... Not entirely healthy relationship dynamics….

Summary: Daniel and you broke up two months ago. He comes back to get the last of his things…. And the rest is history.

Word Count: 5k

Author's Notes: AHHHHHH this was so nerve wracking.... it's been so long since I've written anything so please let me know your thoughts!!!

____

Two months. A short time that felt like a millenia to you. The apartment felt emptier than usual. He wasn’t there often before, but it was more than never. Life felt slow and tedious, and you weren’t exactly adapting well. 

It had been two months since you and Daniel broke up. That felt like such a silly and simple way to explain it, but that’s exactly what happened. It was and then it wasn’t. Four years and it was over just like that. 

Daniel was let go from VCARB after the Singapore GP. The fans could tell something was wrong from his interviews, and their guesses were spot on. He’d known it was the end and given it his all, understanding that it wouldn’t be enough. His whole life came to an abrupt halt, just like that. What was the point of contracts in the first place? It felt like a crime to let him go before COTA, and yet… 

Just as his career came to a screeching halt, your relationship did as well. The comfort you thought you could give was simply not enough. Nothing you could say or do could make it right. It made sense even if it hurt. What do you do when the thing you’ve worked for your whole life gets pulled out from under you? Some people cope and move on, collect the pieces and figure out how to go forward. Some people burn the rest of the world around them and crash. 

What began as trying to comfort him turned into an all-out shouting match and ended in the door slamming behind him. 

“I can’t do this! What the fuck would you do?”

“I don’t know! Lean on my friends? Family? My fucking girlfriend, maybe?”

“Well, nothing like this has happened to you. You just get to sit around and be pretty. Life is so fucking easy for you.”

That last one stung - his sharp words certainly hit their mark. You played the conversation over and over again in your head for the past 60 days, trying to think of an alternative ending.

The movers eventually came and took his things, leaving both the space and your heart wide and empty. And that was how the past two months went. Your apartment was small, but when a whole other person’s things were removed, it felt much too large.You got to see him unwind and find himself by his own posts and his friends’ on social media. The news outlets were fucking annoying. Apparently, one of the most interesting things to report on was an F1 driver’s relationship status. And the paparazzi had exactly as much sympathy as you expected. You were sure there were at least a dozen photos of you crying floating around on Twitter, Facebook, etc. 

It was your turn to feel stuck. You felt like the last four years were a waste. What were you working towards? It was upended so swiftly and easily. You saw Daniel regaining the light back in his eyes while he attended sporting events and went dirt biking with his friends. You sat in your flat drinking wine and looking at the city lights contemplating what could have been. 

There were things you wanted to accomplish that you put on the back burner and now regretted never pursuing. Maybe once you got your spirit back, you’d go after the fashion degree or write that book that always sat in the back of your mind. Just a little bit more groveling…

What really hurt was finding things the movers missed. Little things here and there that you knew he would miss, a helmet here, a jersey there. So instead of burning them like a lot of people might, you gathered them and put them in a box. You put your big girl pants on and sent him a text, hoping it would still go through, and let him know he could pick it up whenever he was back in the city. And to your surprise, not only did the message go through, but he answered. It was the only thing you’d heard from him since he left and unfortunately, you clung to it. 

It was another Friday night that wine was your companion. Your friend had visited for a few days for some gossip and retail therapy, but unfortunately she had left earlier that day and you let the loneliness seep back in. The riesling helped dull it a little bit. You were halfway through the bottle, feeling the pleasant buzz settle into your muscles. 

Music swept through your apartment while you danced and cleaned things here and there when your phone dinged on the counter, interrupting the melody you were currently feeling. Thinking it was your friend who forgot her lipstick on your counter, you swiped the message open without a second thought. Once you read it, however, the blood drained from your face and you looked on in horror.

Be there in 20 if you’re still awake.

Okay…. Okay. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were very much not sober enough for this. The bottle of wine looked on in amusement and you glared at it, as if it wasn’t your choice to partake in the first place. That still didn’t stop you from chugging the rest of the glass in front of you. Maybe it would help you to be more relaxed or cool in his presence. You glanced at the clock on your oven.

11:20PM.

Late, but not ridiculously so. You wondered what exactly he was doing in the country. But that wasn’t really any of your business anymore. 

It was fully in your right to deny him, let him know it was not a good time to stop by. Your sober self needed 3 to 5 business days to prepare for this, but your tipsy self wanted him to stop by now. Your chest ached at the thought of seeing his face again in person. You craved it desperately. Against your better judgement, your fingers sent out a quick, “Ok.”

Oh, God, what were you doing? 

Simply put, you fucking missed him. There was no denying or getting around it.

“Fuck, this is happening,” you breathed to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, a nervous mess. You ran to the bathroom to do a once over; you looked as much a mess as you expected. Hair everywhere and eyes slightly glassy from alcohol. You swallowed hard, trying to fix things, but gave up after a minute or two.

Sitting back in your kitchen, you nursed another glass of wine. There was no going back now, so you might as well commit. A knock came a few minutes later, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“Fuck,” one more for the road. 

You approached the door slowly like a victim in a horror movie. One last hesitation, and the door swung open and there he was.

He stood tall, not at all bowed under the pressure he had experienced so recently. His hair was longer than you remembered, the curls so perfect and tangled it hurt. They weren’t yours to run your hands through anymore. You were sure you looked sad and pathetic, and he stood in front of you looking healthy and radiant, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked damn good.

A breathy, “Hi,” was all you could muster. You immediately kicked yourself internally. So much for keeping your cool. Daniel gave you a once over that made you feel hot inside and self-conscience at the same time.

“Hi,” he gave a soft smile and you nearly melted. It was such a stark difference from how your last conversation ended. You stood in silence for another few seconds, taking him in. This was how you wanted to remember him. 

“Fuck, uh, sorry, I don’t have your stuff here,” you shook yourself out of the trance. “Do you… want to come in for a minute?” You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You didn’t have a great track record with exes and them visiting your place of residence. 

“I’ve got the time,” he said. 

You’d be lying if a plethora of less than innocent thoughts were running through your head. He looked better than you remembered, and the feelings were still there, ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice.

He took everything in. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension and you wondered what he was thinking. His eyes settled on the empty wine glass and less than full bottle.

“Been drinking?” He asked and a smirk settled onto his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and you’d be lying if your mind didn’t wander. Beard burn was a hell of a drug.

“Yea,” you said sheepishly, a hand running through your hair to dispel your nerves. “There’s whiskey if you want a drink. I still have your favorite… I don’t really drink it…” You trailed off, not really expecting him to accept. You thought he would be itching to leave as soon as possible, the weight of the last conversation heavy on your mind. To your surprise, he opened the cabinet that he knew very well and grabbed the whiskey. He grabbed a glass (the cabinet never changed either) and poured himself a double. 

“Cheers,” he held the cup out. You poured the rest of the wine into your stemmed glass and clinked your glass against his. You paused, watching him down the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing and a single droplet of whiskey dripping from his lips and trailing down his neck. Sinful thoughts flashed across your eyes, but long gone now were the days where you could lick it away. You averted your eyes quickly and drank your wine in one swift gulp. Anything to distract you from the images circling through your head. 

“You’ve been doing well - at least from what I’ve seen,” you placed the wine glass down in the kitchen sink and Daniel followed suit. The heat of his body was heavy behind you, his arm right next to yours. You fought everything in you to fight freezing. Surely, he wasn’t doing this on purpose? You didn’t have much time to contemplate as his body was gone in the next moment. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter - his arms propped his body up and you chose to avert your eyes from his toned form. Two months was clearly not enough time to stop those thoughts from clouding your mind. Was it you or did he just look you up and down?

“I’ve been… okay,” he didn’t elaborate, but the silence explained enough. Maybe it was easier to put on a smile for the camera.

“You still miss it,” it wasn’t a question.

“Every day,” he nearly whispered. His warm brown eyes held yours for a second too long and you wondered if you were still talking about racing. You cleared your throat, not totally sure how to address that. 

“Things ended pretty poorly, huh,” you averted your eyes. Now was not the time to let your tears get the best of you. Your last argument was the elephant in the room and you’d explode if you avoided it for another second. There was a tightly wound bundle of resentment, pain, and anger in your stomach. You were mad at him for walking away. Mad that he seemed to get over things pretty damn quick while you were still fumbling for a grasp on things. Mad that he walked right back in like nothing happened.

“You could say that again,” he said simply. You went to speak again but he cut you off. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Your eyes shot to his. He wasn’t really one to open up and talk about things like that. He tended to take things out on the track and work through them that way. He didn’t have that anymore though, so maybe he found talking was easier these days. 

“Thank you,” you said roughly. Blinking rapidly to stop tears from coming forward. What were you supposed to do now? You never stopped loving him, but you were feeling so many other conflicting feelings at the same time. Daniel made a move as if to come forward and comfort you, then thought twice about it. He was obviously feeling a lot of things too. He cleared his throat.

“So, you said you put everything in a box?” He looked around. If things were heavy before, they weighed a ton now. 

“Um, yes, your stuff is in the hall closet. I put it in a box for you - I’m not sure it'll fit in whatever car you drove, but you can always send someone to pick it up for you,” you over-explained as you walked towards said storage. Were you delirious or was that his body heat on your back? This time it did not disappear. 

You slowed, turning to face him. He was as close as you suspected, his strong frame standing over you. His pupils were blown, his breathing slightly accelerated. You’d be a fool to deny that his scent was intoxicating. The same cologne and musk you remembered that was distinctly Daniel made your head spin. You swallowed hard and Daniel’s eyes flickered down to your eyes then your throat.

“Daniel?”

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out, his voice deep and husky. Your heart pounded hard in your chest. You wanted this more than anything. You wished he’d just kiss you already. Your body ached to feel his against yours again. It had been so long. You were both suspended in time, your eyes locked with each others’.

“I missed you, too,” you replied. He looked relieved at that, like he thought you had moved on. As if you’d ever be able to do that.

“Yea?” He was even quieter that time.

“So fucking much.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would.”

Whatever dam was once there broke in an instant. Daniel surged forward and his lips enveloped yours. You couldn’t help the groan that leaked from your throat. You missed this so much it hurt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand found the back of your neck and his fingers wrapped into your hair. His body was hot against yours, your skin searing wherever it touched his. He backed you into the wall without his lips leaving yours once. You eagerly reached your hands to his hair and pulled on the curls you missed so much which earned you a groan in return. You fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

You gulped in air as he moved his attention to your neck, his facial hair scratching you in the way you remembered. Words couldn’t describe how much you missed this. His leg parted yours to push against your clothed cunt and pin you to the wall. God, if he thought you were moaning like a whore now… He suckled hard on the soft skin of your collar bone and your fingers tightened in his hair.

Things were complicated, sure, but this was here and now. Right now you were feeling pretty damn good for many reasons and your present self didn’t care much about the potential consequences. Daniel was a man starved and you were an oasis in the desert. 

“Take me to the fucking bedroom before I strip you here,” you barely got out.

“Can do,” he replied between pressing kisses up your neck. “Not that I would entirely mind…” His strong arms moved to loop under your thighs and lift you up easily. He took a moment to hold you against the wall and kiss you again. His need was as evident as yours; you could feel him straining against his jeans. His tongue was hot and furious against yours and you feared being fully consumed by him. 

Your body temperature was running at one-thousand degrees and you felt like you were about to burst. Daniel’s tongue was wet and insistent against yours and you drank him in. Soft groans echoed from him and you could barely handle it. He carried you to your room, placing you softly onto your plush bed. His body was heavy upon yours, barely holding himself above you. You took the opportunity to roll your hips against his, eliciting a moan from both of you. You wondered if he was with anyone in your absence and then quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of your business, and you chose to believe the answer was no based on the way he was acting. 

Your hands trailed around each other; you missed the feel of each others’ bodies. Something told you that neither of you would last long. Already you feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Barely able to tear himself from you, Daniel managed to rip his shirt off. He looked just as good as ever and your mouth watered at the happy trail disappearing into his pants. 

“See something you like?” He grins evilly.

“Shut the fuck up and take my pants off,” you sigh. He did not need to be told twice. Your pants were removed in a flash leaving you in your underwear and shirt. The shirt was quickly removed after. Lucky for you, it was nearing laundry day which meant you had only your skimpiest and laciest underwear leftover. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel sighed. 

“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he leaned back in and placed soft kisses down your torso. His hands pawed your chest roughly, pinching your nipples between his fingers and causing you to keen into him. He came back to place one more kiss on your lips and captured your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at the soft, swollen skin. You rolled your hips into his again but this time he caught them and pushed his own into you to fight back. Everything with him was a delicious push and pull.

He edged back down, but not without placing wet kisses along your torso on his way there. He grabbed the band of your underwear between his teeth and pulled them off. His eyes held yours as he did so and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. The man knew how to make you blush, that was for sure. They peeled back from your dripping pussy in a way that was almost embarrassing. You didn’t miss when he took the panties and shoved them into his back pocket. 

His lips ghosted over the inside of your thighs and drank you in in a way that made you light headed. You wanted nothing more than him to put his fucking mouth to work. He could sense your urgency and gave a cheeky chuckle.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this as much as me. I’ll suck your dick if you hurry up and eat me out,” you threatened.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was warm and the pleasure shot deep through your core as soon as he ran his tongue over you. 

“Fuck,” you barely managed. Your head hit the mattress - Daniel held you tight and didn’t allow an inch for you to squirm. Your legs draped over his shoulders and your toes curled as he worked on you. The wet sounds that came from your cunt were sinful; when Daniel paused for air and to smile at you, you could see his chin glistening. He was relentless, moaning into your folds and your head started swirling. “Daniel,” you gasped and one hand clawed at his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. “I’m not gonna last - if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” he barely pulled back. Now that he had that information, he didn’t hold back and within a minute you were writhing and moaning underneath him as white hot pleasure coursed through you. He alternated between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit. His strong arms barely flexed to hold you down as your hips rolled against his tongue. He only relented when your hips stuttered as you became overstimulated. You were gasping and swearing. It was way too long since you’d felt like this. He pulled back, but only far enough to place more open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your thighs. He let you recover and kissed his way back up your body on your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and finally your collarbones and neck. 

“Sooooo, you said something about getting my dick sucked?” He asked and completely evaporated the heavy mood. You couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from you and you hit his shoulder weakly. He fell back dramatically on the bed, holding his shoulder in mock pain. “You wound me, woman!”

The light humor was nice, but it made your heart ache. You missed this so much and you realized that this ended with Daniel walking out the door. This was all a moment of passion after time apart. He’d take the rest of his things and go back to his life and you’d go back to yours. Instead of wallowing, you chose to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment that was happening in front of you. You put the smile back on your face and turned your attention back to Daniel. You kissed him deeply and softly once and ignored the slightly confused look on his face.

You pushed him back into the bed and he propped his head up by putting his hands behind his head, and you swallowed hard at his flexing biceps. He still wore his jeans so you palmed him roughly through the thick fabric which earned you a look that could kill. You licked a stripe over the coarse hair that sprouted up his stomach. He was hot and salty with sweat and you craved to take him into your mouth. 

Removing his belt slowly, you teased him; how much could he take? To your surprise, he was exceedingly patient and looked down at you with a disgusting smirk.  You pulled down his jeans and wiped said smirk off his face by placing a feather light kiss over his clothed cock. He smelled hot and musky, and you couldn’t wait to strip him completely. The pants and boxer briefs came off together and got tossed somewhere along the rest of the clothes on the floor.

He was just as you remembered. You suppressed the whine that built in your throat. He was already cocky enough; he didn’t need to know you missed sucking him off. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the rest taken care of by your hands. Another thing he didn’t need to add to his ego was his size. He was heavy and warm on your tongue with the sting of bitter saltiness from the precum that leaked from his swollen, red tip. A deep groan came from him and you looked up to see his head thrown back and his bottom lips caught between his teeth. A small ego boost for you too. 

You dragged your tongue from his base to his tip. Following the thick vein that ran up his length, you took him in again and hollowed your cheeks. He couldn’t control the groans and moans that spilled from him and one of his hands came down to wind through your hair and hold it up.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Bold of him, but you had to admit you missed this possessive side of him. You obliged him and looked him dead in the eyes but did not pause your ministrations. You let him push his hips into your mouth to fuck your throat. You were out of practice and gagged once before holding it back. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you loved it. You swallowed around his length and his hand tightened painfully in your hair. His hips thrusted against his own will and his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay… okay, stop, or I’m not gonna make it to the main event,” he breathed heavily. Still got it, you thought smugly. You released him but not before placing one last kiss on the crevice between his crotch and his thigh which earned you a satisfying twitch.

You climbed up, settling yourself on his lower stomach. This was one of both of your favorite positions. Daniel loved seeing you above him, riding his cock and finding the exact right spot that got you off. It was a position that allowed you both some control and he liked being able to see your face. You scooted back and grabbed his length, ready to position him and sink down when he halted you by catching your hips in both of his hands.

“Fuck, I didn't bring a condom,” he sighed and paused. You almost lost your mind. 

“I don't fucking care,” you moaned and pushed against him. “And I'm still on the pill.”

“You didn't stop it?”

“Just be glad I didn't and fuck me already, Daniel,” you whined. You knew adding his name would be the cherry on top of a cake he couldn't deny. He took the head of his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds to collect the excessive wetness there, and pressed himself into you slowly. The stretch ached deliciously. It had definitely been awhile. Daniel hissed between his teeth as you sunk down on his length inch by agonizing inch. 

When he was fully inside of you, you took a moment to adjust. You steadied yourself with your hands on Daniel’s chest, and he grabbed your wrists to pull you back down to him. Your lips met his in a surprisingly tender kiss that stirred things in your chest that you were having trouble keeping buried. You blinked away tears for the second time that night, but this time a warm hand came to cup your cheek and stroke the warm skin there. 

Whatever happened tonight, you hoped you and Daniel talked after this. He brought you so much joy and comfort. His warm brown eyes held yours as if to say everything would be okay.

“Okay, I’m fine. You can start moving,” you breathed out and began rocking your hips. He didn’t need to be told twice and held your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. He felt just as good as you remembered. Maybe better. The room was filled with the harmony of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your hips meeting each other. There was no sweeter sound.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he moaned. “So fucking good for me. So tight and fucking soaking. All for me,” his hips snapped to meet your movements. Him calling you baby lit a spark in your belly and spurred you on.

“Faster. Fuck me faster, Daniel,” you whined, desperately chasing your high. He complied and moved faster and harder. He stuck his two forefingers in your mouth and you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around the digits. You looked at him through your lashes and he groaned deeply. You felt deeply in your soul that only you two could have this effect on each other. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing deeper and faster, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You decided to spur him on, wanting to hear his sweet sounds and see the beautiful face he made when he reached it. You beared down on him, squeezing him and matching his rhythm.

“You’re so good, Danny. You make me feel so good,” you could barely get the words out.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to maintain his composure. Sweat beaded on his brow and shined on his chest. One hand left your hip to rub quick circles on your clit to give it right back to you. You were so sensitive from earlier that the effect was immediate. One hand flew to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but Daniel ripped it away. He wanted to hear every sound uninhibited. 

He held on until your orgasm crashed over you. You hoped you wouldn’t be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbors the next day, but would understand why if you did. Your thighs shook and you couldn’t control how you rutted against Daniel like a crazed person. That was all he could take and his hands tightened painfully into your soft skin. He bit his lips hard and his eyes screwed shut. His hips hit once, twice more before slowing. Was that a whine coming from him? God, that sound alone could make you cum again. You reveled in the bliss, slowly moving your hips to ride it out. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes after, save the heaving breathing coming from both of you. Finally, you pulled yourself from Daniel, a soft sigh coming from him. You were battling yourself on what to do next. Now that it was over… What came next? Maybe you would take a hot shower and then he’d be gone with his things when you emerged. That was usually how this kind of story went, right? At least he wouldn’t be around to see you fall apart.

You made a start to get off the bed, but a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back down. Warm arms wrapped around you and then you were laying against his overheated body, your legs draped over his like nothing had ever changed.

“Don’t go,” he said into the top of your head.

[indras-curse]

are you still taking requests? if yes, can you maybe write about obkk with kakashi being obvious about his feelings for obito while obito is oblivious? except he's not really oblivious, he just acts that way bc he doesn't think he deserves kakashi's love?

I'm always taking requests!

Before I share my take on this one, I recommend Fool's Gold by Anjelle with a similar dynamic to your ask!

---

Kakashi cooks him a bento and Obito freaks out.

It's uncommon for Kakashi to feed himself, so wanting to feed someone else is definitely a surprise.

Guy tears up when he hears Kakashi made Obito a bento but when offered the same bento by Obito he vehemently rejects it because that one was obviously specifically made for Obito and he wouldn't dare take someone else's food!

Obito eats the bento. Hidden among the trees.

Kakashi slowly begins increasing the amount of time they spend together. Obito tries to keep it professional, but they end up staring at the sunset, reading books, or sharing meals most of the time.

Asuma asks Obito one day how their dates are going.

Obito denies ever having dates with Kakashi. They are just comrades. Comrades sometimes share meals, they work together so it makes sense they have lunch breakfast, and dinner sometimes together, too!

Kurenai asks about the times they are just browsing through books together and Obito assures her they just go together because they have very different tastes in books so they learn from what the other reads.

Kurenai asks how his reading through Icha Icha Paradise is going, then and Obito plays dead.

Obito tries to distance himself from Kakashi a little and to his surprise Kakashi actually relents and lets him have his alone time.

But, Obito misses him, actually.

He tries not to show it because he thinks if Kakashi spends more time with his own friends and meets other people, he is going to eventually find someone who is good enough for him, not a clan embarrassment like Obito who the Hokage dislikes and came last on every test when he was a child.

One day Obito is just suffering in silence watching the sunset by himself and Guy suddenly appears by his side, saying he noticed Obito has been kinda down, and asks him if everything is okay.

Obito says he is fine, he just has to ignore his feelings.

Guy immediately scolds him for ignoring his feelings! He should be listening to them and honoring their value in his life, Obito has the right to feel however he feels!

Obito confesses he doesn't think he deserves to feel the way he feels and that in any way Kakashi is probably going to be better off with someone else who is actually good for him.

Guy gets upset then because Kakashi is his very best rival and if Kakashi is winning in the love department it would be unfair and against the rules (what rules? Obito thinks) for Obito to sabotage Kakashi's success! How would Guy look? To win over a stolen victory is the worst loss of them all!

He encourages Obito and asks him to please respect Kakashi, he is perfectly capable of making the choice of who he wants or doesn't want in his life.

He also tells Obito they are going to meet to train from now on because his self-esteem is severely lacking, and Guy cannot see that and do nothing.

Obito is dreading the meet and while trying to escape Guy he ends up meeting Kakashi who is surprised to see him but welcomes his company.

They end up in a dango shop having some tea and sweets and they are actually having a very nice conversation, Obito is making googly eyes at Kakashi without noticing when he feels a strong presence at the entrance of the shop and when he turns, Guy is looking straight at him with a big smile, a wink and a thumbs up.

Obito covers his face in embarrassment and doesn't see how Kakashi returns the wink and thumbs up to Guy.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

How I draw: Proportions/sketching

The first response to a few art questions from @johnny-and-clyde :))

sketching:

So I honestly used to be a lot more…intentional about my sketching?? Up until a few months ago I would draw out actual sketches that I’d then cleanly ink on top of in a separate layer, like this:

I’d try to keep things loose and easy, but I’m not fantastic at that lol

I have a tendency to over complicate sketches- It’s not super obvious here, but I did semi-map out the anatomy under the clothes and fabric folds. That’s probably a good thing to do, generally, especially since I was and am still learning anatomy.

I don’t do it much anymore tho, because I often got caught up in little details that just wound up covered by clothes 😭 So I generally focus on mapping out the clothing shapes over the proportions/ anatomy. Definitely study anatomy anyway tho- this only works for me nowadays because I did and still do study anatomy a lot lol

These days though, I don’t r e a l l y sketch that much. I mean, I do- but instead of making another layer and inking it, I kinda just clean up the sketch the way I would if I were using pencil and paper. I don’t have a lotta example images of this, because it goes from the sketch to the final lineart in one layer?

tried to reverse-engineer it here on this Angela drawing. idk how helpful that is tho lol.

Idk, most important thing for me while sketching is remembering that everything has a 3D form, and also to FLIP MY CANVAS FREQUENTLY so that it stays balanced lol. -also- I almost always take note of the ribcage, the clavicle angle, and the hip angle when planning poses

-And I consciously try to keep things from getting stiff, and think of the pose as an intentional composition. I actually struggle most with plain standing/walking poses, because I very often can’t think of ways to make them look…idk, interesting? That’s why it’s taken me so long to finish pt.2 of my Outsiders character designs- I can’t find good dynamic-but-also-stagnant poses for them

proportion:

Honestly man idk I just sorta say “fuck it we ball” and hope for the best. I used to think a lot more about this one but as it’s become more and more natural to me I become less and less able to define/describe it?? I dunno lol.

My art style is semi-cartoony, and honestly kinda inconsistent in terms of proportions. I generally aim for the hands to be similar in size to the face, and for the shoulders/chest area to have enough space to fit the clavicle…but none of this is really a conscious decision? It just sorta happens. The heads/eyes of my characters are usually stylized, and so the hands end up a bit bigger to match the faces, and I tend to exaggerate muscle mass but not really muscle definition…And I also stylize things for characters to better contrast each other. For example, I’ve noticed I draw Steve Randle stockier/bulkier than he is to better highlight Soda’s slenderness.

(see how they’re not as drastically different in build as I draw them? Steve seems bulkier mostly cos he’s shorter but has a similar amount of mass I think) (don’t quote me on that tho idk how to put this shit into words lol)

I have a pretty decent idea of how proportions are supposed to work from years of studying them, and I have no idea how to explain any of it. Just…do a lot of figure and gesture drawing, use a lotta refs, and it’ll make sense eventually 😭

[cosmosrebellion]

Actually the parental dynamic was something I thought only for Optimus and Adora, because OP just has that "Dad who steps up" vibe. What I thought for the other characters are mostly friendships with the Autobots giving them their own "Robot Friend" or them to work out of.

And for Catra I had an idea that is weird, but I found really fun. Her Autobot friend would be Ratchet.

Now, I know that teaming her up with the grumpy old guy sounds weird, but I think that in a "Post-War Etheria", Catra plays a similar role to Ratchet in the Best Friend Squad of being the one who's constantly worried about keeping her friends safe, since all of them are the heroic self-sacrificial type, but hiding her worry under a lot of grumpiness.

Also, I really like the idea of Catra becoming interested in medical practice so she can learn how to better care for her friends and they don't have to rely on Adora's healing powers all the time.

And where Ratchet would feign annoyance over Catra most of the time, once he sees that they share that worry over the well being of their friends, he try to pass some of what he learned over the years: That their friend will get into trouble and hurt themselves to help others. So what they can do is have the right tools and learn the right skills to make sure they're cared for, and so they can lovingly say "I told you so!" after their dumb dangerous idea goes south.

Again, weird out of nowhere pick I know, but one that I think would make for a really fun dynamic.

Can't stop thinking about how if Optimus met Adora and heard her backstory, his already high-level paternal instincts would kick into overdrive.

[sakura-code]

OK, so I realized for Dual-Sword AU that we've been talking about it as a whole right? But what about smaller tidbits? Like how the heck did the twins end up in Kanai Ward in the first place! I assume through the train but with two amnesiacs on the loose I doubt the both of them would drink the coffee!! One of them must have but for the other to as well? Unlikely... Makoto might be skeptical of the beverages there so he might be the conscious twin in the situation but but but but he might night might might stop Yuma? I don't know. I'm not sure if we explored their dynamic in this AU yet! It's been what? 2 weeks? My head hasn't been refreshed on the AU yet!!

I answer this in another ask I just answered after I’m finally answering this. But I’m definitely going to explain the characters’ dynamics and more specific of their interactions, since I’m fine spoiling that. Specifically their dynamic in Chapter 0.

Yuma and Makoto are actually suspicious of each other in the beginning. After all, how did the both of them just get amnesia at the same time? Though they both have the same letters and Yuma would note Makoto is genuine about his answers and would believe Makoto is in the same boat as him, making him cling onto Makoto. But Makoto, he feels suspicious about all of this. Especially with Yuma. And that suspicions increase when the detectives propose there is an imposter amongst them. Meaning even one of them could be faking in being a twin, or having amnesia, or even may be a brother turned traitor.

So when Melami offers a drink to Yuma, Makoto knew the drinks would possibly be drugged and was actually going to be fine with Yuma taking them. After all, it’ll incapacitate him if he is an imposter. But then he’ll realize that if Yuma really was faking everything, he would know the drinks were tainted and not want to take them at all. So he stops Yuma, though after he took just a bit that makes Yuma end up sluggish, and tell the detectives his suspicions.

That small action will affect the twins’ relationship later on in the Chapter 0 arc… (love tasty family angst)

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[zazikels]

welp since some of those shitty leaks turned out to be true, those rook's rest leaks are going to end up being true and from the very bottom of my heart i wish c*ndal a very never get work adapting anything again i hope by the end of this your reputation is worse than benioff's and weiss's because it's all you deserve.

[loveguts]

i’m not a transandrophobia truther in the slightest don’t get me wrong, but i think some people on here really need to realize and comprehend the fact that cis women, way WAY more often than not, hold extremely significant social and political power over trans men the vast majority of the time in our day to day lives

[sysig]

What if Peepers got left behind with the main duo tho (Patreon)

[termagax]

re: "good girl" i think they say it once randomly as a joke and its just one of those things that gets him wayyy more than they expected it would. so now its their secret weapon and they use it very sparingly and every single time he gets super embarrassed about it but it works ill tell you what.