#and this is also slightly disorganized rambling

[solmarillion]

i know there's some people out there who think that silvergifting, specifically sauron falling in love with celebrimbor, is out of character for him. i'm gonna rant about that a little and talk about why it's not true.

we are told sauron didn't start out as evil. tolkien doesn't believe in inherent evil. and there is something human about sauron, in how much of a perfectionist he is, the way that he grew frustrated with all of the disorder in the world. these were things that he couldn't control, supposedly- but what if he could? he never would've been satisfied just working for aulë, not when all of the imperfections he saw became an obsession for him. and here comes melkor, giving him all of the power he wants to make that dream a reality for him. sauron is said to have "adored" melkor.

these are actual human feelings that real people experience. i have autism, ADHD, OCD, bipolar disorder and multiple anxiety disorders and a lot of the feelings sauron experiences about perfectionism, wanting to have control over things you just can't- these are feelings i deal with every single day!! it's just that sauron, being 1.) one of the ainur and 2.) a villain, takes these feelings to such an extreme that it warps him, and it shows how damaging you can be to yourself if you don't have a good support system, if you don't have people in place who genuinely want to help you and understand you. it's pretty clear to me that sauron is capable of experiencing human emotions, so by extension he is absolutely capable of love.

with these things in mind, it is PERFECTLY in-character for sauron to not only fall in love with celebrimbor but also to feel guilty about torturing and killing him. because celebrimbor is just another one of those things that he can't control, but he loves him. even if he wanted to just be annatar, he couldn't- celebrimbor would find out the truth eventually, and most likely reject him. and he couldn't just abandon all of those plans he sacrificed everything for. he left aulë and betrayed him, left melkor behind after so many years serving him, everything was building up to this moment. sauron was too transformed by all of his experiences and to just give up on everything would be giving up on who he had become. melkor became a part of him. but celebrimbor did too, and that's why it hurts so much. sauron is literally killing off a part of himself when he kills celebrimbor- the part of him that could've become annatar. it's fascinating to think about, what could drive someone to kill the person they love, and even more interesting when it's someone with as much potential for character exploration as sauron.

the rings of power would not have been made without celebrimbor. annatar and celebrimbor worked together in close partnership for 300 years, and the act of subcreation is said to be intimate. celebrimbor is part of the story of the one ring, and there's something special about celebrimbor and sauron's relationship, so much potential to be explored, even if you don't ship them romantically. i'm so tired of people shutting down the possibility of sauron experiencing love and being emotionally vulnerable just because "he's evil". tolkien didn't write a whole essay on sauron's motivations and complexities only for them to be dismissed like that. let's embrace the nuances in tolkien's villains instead of ignoring them.

[jbbartram-illu]

I'd love to know more about layering glazes!! I've taken ceramic classes in school and as you can imagine we were limited to single glazes to stop kids from mixing things together with too-early second coats.

Ooohhh get ready for another ramble because I am SO into glaze layering (tho also very early on in the journey...now that I have a kiln, I'll have way more capacity for tossing in some test tiles alongside the proper work, so hopefully I'm only getting nerdier in this aspect of the craft!).

A couple of beasts featuring cool surface effects via layering glazes!

The main thing that got me properly into glaze layering was the fact that both Mayco & Amaco provide online resources for layering their glazes, which provided me with a foundation to start from when deciding what glazes to layer.

Mayco's glaze layering resource

Amaco's Glaze layering resource

With few exceptions, all of my layered glazes have been based on suggestions from those sites. Of course, most look slightly different from the reference photos provided due to firing temp/clay type, but it's amazing to have something to work from!

The other crucial thing that comes along with glaze layering (& just glazing in general!) is keeping a record of your choices. I've got a two-pronged system going now where I write everything down in a notebook while working, then take proper photos when the pieces are done & put it in an app on my phone called ClayLab.

This allows me to more easily organize my glaze results & reference them in a more streamlined way than my initial system of 'read tragically messy notes in notebook while scrolling through my overloaded & disorganized phone photo album'. Sometimes apps DO make things easier!

Here are some photos of my not-at-all-unhinged notebook scrawlings & a screenshot of the ClayLab app:

The app lets you apply all kinds of info to each entry & then filter by all those categories (eg. type of vessel/creature, glaze name, clay type, etc). I really do recommend it if you want a non-stressful way of keeping track of your glazing choices!

So yeah!! I hope this was a little bit helpful? I'll be talking a bit more about my personal favourite glazes/layered glazes in a future ask, which I'll post soon!

[smallnico]

song of rest

felt like doodling out esper's tent. trivia and guide under the cut!

the tent is a plain dark colour, very unflashy, fairly low to the ground. it provides shelter to sleep under, but doesn't close -- esper is a bit claustrophobic, especially when alone, so they don't tend to sit inside unless they're sleeping, and they prefer to sleep in the others' tents if they're allowed to.

wind chimes! their magic moves the chimes around slightly, so they like to play along to them. if it's too windy they don't set up the chimes. the magic itself isn't a particular spell (could be song of rest, but they're just tuning into the weave, really) but they usually have spell slots left at the end of the day, so they use any residual magic to vibe. more on that in 8.

a lantern that's basically an empty wine bottle that's been faerie fired. esper sets up pretty far away from the campfire -- they like the dark, but they do find comfort in the little motes of light.

the much-abused training dummy. this thing has been decapitated and run through so many times it's not funny. part of why esper sets up so far away from the center of camp is because they sometimes imitate death noises when they destroy this thing (for fun & enrichment), and they're a little too accurate for comfort.

barrel of swords. esper takes the weapons from enemies that they respect and sometimes polishes or sharpens those weapons, even if they don't use them.

just a huge pile of pillows and hide blankets and discarded armour. esper sleeps on the equivalent of a dirty laundry pile with a pillow. they will tidy up a little if they have company, but they are a slob on their own. anything that isn't a weapon or research is extremely disorganized.

pile of collected journals and notebooks. most of the books they pick up through their adventures esper will give to gale or astarion or halsin, or whoever wants them, but they keep notes that give them an eerie feeling -- notes that Might be about their mysterious past. some nights they will take out their own notebook and try to put the pieces together until their headache gets too bad and they have to stop.

esper bangin out the tunes. they're playing the spider's lyre. not any particular song, mind you, just a series of notes and a rambling improvised melody charged with magic. esper tunes into the vibrations of the surrounding area (birds, wind, rustling leaves, tremors in the ground, etc.) and harmonizes with them so they can sense if anything around the camp is weird. they're meditating and calming their own emotions when they do this, but they're also stretching out their senses for nearby threats or weird energies in camp.

this is probably tea or just hot water. it might be soup. esper will drink about anything but they rarely make it for themself -- someone wandered over there and poured a liquid in there and they've just been sipping it since. esper isn't a heavy alcohol drinker -- their tolerance is really low, and they don't like having their judgement or control compromised.

these are weapons from enemies esper Doesn't particularly respect, or just daggers that are shit and cheap and not worth using. i'll be real, this is mostly for the aesthetic, but when you have bad knives, sometimes you want to punish them by burying them in the ground and using them to hold up your tent.

[monigote001]

"You're joking."

The man with the third eye blinked, rubbing his temple, unable to fully believe what he'd just heard. She, the young woman with cinnamon skin, who didn’t know what a toaster was, or worse, what a fork was, had confessed her love to him without any decorum in his office.

Their conversations had been nothing but nonsense. He loved listening to the ramblings of someone who seemed to have just discovered the world outside the forest she came from. He also enjoyed telling her lies about how things worked, mixing fantasy with a slightly distorted reality to make it more entertaining. But he didn’t love her as such.

"Alex, dear, could ya repeat that nonsense?"

"I love you."

"Damn, I heard right then."

He laughed, stroking the beard on his face while trying to swallow the cinnamon roll. He took a moment to grab his coffee cup before waiting for another word—lament, anger, insistence—but he neither heard nor saw anything more. The young woman just settled into the chair on the other side of the desk and continued reading. He scratched his head, putting his hat back on.

"Sweetheart, are ya really plannin' to throw that into our conversation and pretend it didn’t happen? I—"

"I'm not pretending."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not pretending; I just wanted to tell you."

"Why? Were ya expectin' rejection?"

"I wasn’t expecting anything."

Her words left him bewildered. He looked at her, trying to understand what sort of joke she might be making, but her face showed nothing but raw neutrality. He let a few minutes pass, taking long sips of his coffee, feeling slightly uncomfortable with what she was—or wasn’t—expressing. Sometimes she raised her voice to comment on parts of the book she liked or wanted to highlight. He just went along with it, not understanding what the atmosphere was forming.

He didn’t understand what was happening. Time slipped by as if nothing, almost an hour had passed as usual, his fingers typing on the monitor screen and erasing, unable to focus his mind on what was happening. Was it possible? Was it genuine that she wasn’t seeking any reaction in return? Even when he laughed in her face, there wasn’t even a twitch in those dead points that were her eyes. He shook his hair, sweat accumulating on his forehead—was the air conditioning on? He ground his teeth, almost getting fed up with this disconcerting act. He couldn’t even fake a laugh or a joke; nothing came to his mind other than wanting to question her intentions further.

He finished his coffee, now cold, in one last gulp before catching her attention with a slight tap as he set the cup down.

"Is something wrong?"

"What are you going to do now?"

"Do with what?"

"Are ya gonna pretend this didn’t happen? 'Oh, my crush rejected me, so I’ll act like it didn’t happen to get their attention!' Dear, those tricks don’t work like in yer teenage fantasy romance novels. We are adults, in the real world, in a real place, livin' almost unreal things. I don’t know what ya want from me; I can’t offer ya a love story to fantasize about. Maybe some other researcher is that naive, but don’t waste yer time here."

He clicked his tongue, a condescending smile on his face, finally expecting some reaction from her, but, as at the beginning, he received nothing. In fact, the girl seemed somewhat lost; she took her time to mark the page of the chapter she had stopped at, closing and caressing the texture of the title that slightly protruded from the hardcover just for the pleasure of the texture. She delicately placed it on the desk, which seemed disorganized in a pattern only the blonde man could understand. After that, she parted her lips to satisfy his need for a response.

"I don’t know what you’re assuming with that; I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me with that example. I don’t expect anything."

"Then why did ya confess?"

"Because I wanted to."

They just stared at each other for a few minutes, trying to decipher what the other was trying to say without words.

"Why would I want something from you? I already have the company you provide, and that’s something I never asked for. You gave it to me, and that’s why I wanted to share what I feel with you. It’s not an exchange."

It was something so simple and common, yet still difficult to process. Something as complex as a relationship, a human connection reduced to something so small. But then he remembered she wasn’t human.

He settled into his seat, lowering his hat as an alarm went off. Their time was up.

"Then, can I come back tomorrow?"

"... Feel free to do so."

And with a grimace that sought to imitate a smile, the girl disappeared through the door, leaving the book behind.

[third-arch]

So, I got Law's perfume.

I did one spray on my drawing pad glove and thought I'd say everything that comes to mind.

I also go nose blind really easily, so I'm posting this so I'll never forget :))!!

I chose to not use the image below and just go with it.

Here's what I was supposed to smell.

My disorganized rambling interpretation of what I smelled.

Overall, Law just smells really nice. He just smells like a guy haha. There's no better way of putting it. It smells like a fresh wooded area with eucalyptus and subtle hints of rosemary. The lemon gives it a more natural and sunshine and morning dew feeling to it. It gives it this slight edge and almost tanginess.

Clean, professional, doctor/'s office, fresh, plants, morning dew, rosemary, some mint.

It doesn't irritate my nose. It makes me feel calm. Just relaxed and happy. There's nothing in particular that makes it pop or makes me feel like waaa >////<, it's just relaxing, soothing, mature. There's a gentleness that follows, too. Like if someone was smiling softly at you or gazing softly, or like a small gentle breeze. Or even patting your head.

No sweetness nor bitterness, just gentleness and softness.

It's nice, like a slight intensity of these mature ingredients and a gentle after feeling.

The best way I'd describe it is like if someone just came out of the shower and was getting ready for the day.

Incense, like a really nice and natural incense. Even like a cologne or something.

There's no sweetness or sugary scent to it. He just smells very natural.

The first thing that I thought of is just Law's back. Like he's wearing nice clothes.

Not like the smell of fresh clothes, but just like nature and plants, specifically eucalyptus. Followed by a soft rain or drizzle. The ground still dark and slightly damp.

Sort of but not really, like if someone had spent the day working with plants at their desk, with a mortar and pestle or just working with plants indoors, and collecting them outdoors.

I think of sunshine peeking through the canopies of trees,

If I had to give it a song, it would be a Hozier song or Daylight by David Kushner. The after smell is Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift, or a more acoustic version of the song and Unidentified Flavourful Object by Mili.

This song, too,

Vivaldi Variation (Arr. for Piano from Concerto for Strings in G Minor, RV 156)

Or maybe like a piano playlist, like something by oliviaalee. Sort of but not really dark academia. (Lemon what are you talking about)

It even smells a tad like very subtly like the ocean. Just like a fresh watery, natural breeze.

I can now smell the lavender and the lemon a bit better.

A bit like fresh lavender.

I feel relaxed when smelling it. It's very mature, attractive, professional, and clean.

A quiet morning. Going on a nice evening date with your boyfriend/partner, who dressed up nice. Like a nice, black suit.

Here are some visuals of what I imagined when smelling it. Literally Daylight-David Kushner MV.

(Insert photo of law shirtless getting out of the shower/bed or wearing a suit or the back of his neck.)

Here’s a transcript of my live reaction to smelling the perfume!!

Overall, just reading this all again makes the smell familiar again :))

In the end, Law just smells like a guy, just fresh and natural.

I hope this helps some writers out there!!

[sentientsky]

Crowley + Attachment Style

I was talking to @actual-changeling the other day about attachment styles, and they confirmed my idea that Crowley is, contrary to popular belief, not someone with an anxious attachment style. Rather, like Aziraphale, he exhibits signs of a fearful-avoidant/disorganized attachment style (just in a slightly different and less obvious way). I’ve had this draft kicking around since September (??? October?? time is an illusion), so enjoy my silly (not-so-little) ramblings. TW // discussion of child abuse (not explicit) Okay, I've seen a couple of discussions surrounding this (cue me doing a frantic, sleep-deprived Tumblr Literature Review approx. five minutes ago), so this is just me tossing two pennies into a fountain, shrugging, and walking away. I totally see how Crowley could be interpreted as having an anxious attachment style. At the same time, as someone with a fearful-avoidant/disorganized attachment style (thanks, dad! <3), I believe there's space to explore that as a possibility.

My credentials, you ask?? Decades of trauma and an intimate knowledge of what it's like to have a disorganized attachment style (I'm WORKING ON IT, okay?? lol). Also a fuckton of research. All sources will be linked because I am a professional (&lt;- LYING). Okay, so let's do a quick crash course on attachment theory as a concept itself, and then shift into manifestations of disorganized attachment style (I'm going to call it "DAS" for short bc I'm tired). I'm doing this as a formality, because let's be honest. Would you be in this fandom without having had experienced at least some measure of childhood trauma? What is Attachment Theory? (source) "Attachment theory, in developmental psychology, [is] the theory that humans are born with a need to form a close emotional bond with a caregiver and that such a bond will develop during the first six months of a child’s life if the caregiver is appropriately responsive." There are a variety of attachment styles, each of which differently predicts how an individual will react in interpersonal situations according to how they were raised. While there are, obviously, further nuances to this, a core group of four feature most prominently:

Let's go deeper. What does it mean to have a DAS? In short, a DAS (also known as "fearful-avoidant attachment style") often comes about as a result of childhood abuse. The child relies upon the caregiver to ensure their (the child's) survival. However, when the parent is abusive (physically, emotionally, verbally, etc.), this obviously poses a threat to the wellbeing of the child. So they develop this deep-rooted sense of distrust and fear. It helps me to think of it as a flame: you want to be warmed by the heat of the fire, but if you get too close, you'll get burnt. Consequently, you're trapped in this wavering "too close", "too far" situation. One of the best explanations I've read with regards to DAS is from this source:

Separation and abandonment (though most likely to produce an organized form of attachment, such as anxious or avoidant) can lead to the establishment of a DAS:

(source) After experiencing abuse and abandonment in Heaven, and again as a Fallen angel, Crowley has, like Aziraphale, been exposed to conditions that would create this particular attachment style (for a further explanation of Aziraphale's DAS, see this post). However, as I mentioned in the above linked post,

In contrast, Crowley has a more nuanced, consequentialist view of morality. Having Fallen, having intimately known the depths of what both Heaven and Hell are capable of (e.g., his time in Hell post-1827), he isn't living with this unpredictable "parent"--he solidly understands that the existing system is fundamentally wrong.

At times, he does experience what appears to be ambivalence (or, more likely, a sense of deep-rooted loss and abandonment):

However, the Final Fifteen emphasizes that this lingering mindset is overridden by the acknowledgment of an innately harmful structure:

Having established this, what does Crowley's DAS look like + how does it differ from Aziraphale's? Well, in my research, I would posit "compulsive caregiving" plays a role. Compulsive Caregiving What is "compulsive caregiving"? It's a form of DAS that emerges as a result of specific developmental conditions. Having their needs (or QUESTIONS) ignored or else punished by a caregiver, a child may learn to "never ask for anything", and instead care for others, often sacrificing their own wellbeing/needs for the sake of the other party (see further explanations below).

(Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4)

Here, we can see how Crowley might fall into the category of "compulsive care-giving". Both he and Azi try to protect each other to a severe degree, but Crowley's compulsivity might be a bit more apparent in this regard. He's learned not to ask for the things he wants (avoidant manifestation), but he also feels a desperate need to prove himself and protect Aziraphale through compulsive caregiving (anxious manifestation). It's only with his back pressed against the figurative wall in the Final Fifteen (or on the brink of Armageddon in season 1) that he is able to say it plainly. The Push-And-Pull of DAS As has been discussed so many times previously, this idea of ambivalence also features prominently in the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale themselves. There's a constant push-and-pull in their dynamic, as evidenced below: Aziraphale refers to him as a friend, he compliments him, exists in close quarters with him, etc...

But he also pushes Crowley away and consistently reiterates the categorical black-and-white thinking of Heaven/Hell.

[Disclaimer: I acknowledge that this wavering attitude, while infuriating and unfair to Crowley, is also largely as a result of religious trauma; Aziraphale needs some serious therapy. As we see exhibited throughout the Final Fifteen, Aziraphale still believes that Heaven is, fundamentally, good (or at least holds the capacity to become good). This doesn't negate the fact that he loves Crowley, but it does impact the way he views the two of them and their relationship, causing a significant strain and eventual break in their bond].

So we have the root, we have the manifestations within the other party, but how does this DAS figure within Crowley's character itself? Manifestations of DAS in Adulthood

Speaking from personal experience, DAS can manifest in adult life in several ways. In the present day, I tend to (But not always! I'm getting better, lol) attach myself to people who are touch-and-go; who variously show me affection and disinterest (*cough cough* my ex-bsf). Often, when I felt like the other person was pulling away/withdrawing, I would also pull away. Because my caregivers flipped between rage and calm, venom-spitting hatred and comforting affection very, very quickly and very, very easily, I had to constantly be on edge, anticipating my next move and ready to go into resolution/fawning mode ("compulsive caretaking") at the drop of a hat. And that notion of push-and-pull, "never really knowing where you stand" is what I grew up thinking of as love. This pulling away in the face of perceived rejection can also point to issues with self-esteem...

SIDEBAR: CROWLEY AND SELF-ESTEEM The way Crowley is written with regards to his trauma responses is so interesting and also so real to me. We have this entity who has spent the better part of six thousand years (likely more, because we don't have a definitive timeline for the Fall) believing he is so thoroughly and utterly unwanted as to be pushed to the underbelly of the Universe, hidden away amongst sulphur and agony and absence.

Speaking as someone with ah...childhood...uh. issues (sure, let's call it that. why not?), after being told that you are disgusting, horrible, unworthy, etc. so many times, you begin to believe it. And because, as children, we're forced to rely on primary caregivers, often the only way to maintain that connection lies in the internalization of that unworthiness, to the point where it's difficult to separate you from these ideas of worthlessness. And because you've experienced it so consistently throughout your life, you also come to anticipate rejection; you look for it everywhere, feeling as though it's right around the corner. Therefore, to kind of pre-emptively avoid emotional harm (or because you feel unworthy of asking for more or for reassurance), you cauterize the figurative wound and pull away. We'll come back to this idea in a couple moments! Returning to the main point, let's look at these markers of a DAS more broadly:

(source)

Let's go through each of these, step-by-step. Again, remember, not all of these symptoms have to be present all of the time. These are the ones I see most prominently in Crowley (of course, please, please, please feel free to correct me or build on this! i'm in NO way an expert).

"You find it difficult to open up to others" + "You tend to keep conversations on the surface level because it's uncomfortable to be vulnerable"

"You have a negative self-view of both yourself and others" (mostly himself, in this case!)

"You often dissociate from your emotions" + "You withdraw when you feel vulnerable or emotional" For this one, I'm just going to invite you to read Alex's post here. They phrase it better than I ever could, lol.

SIDEBAR #2: Withdrawal + Good Omens Lockdown @yowlthinks also made an excellent point regarding something i said here. In the Good Omens Lockdown audio clip, we notice Crowley pushing the boundary line, forthrightly offering to come over to the bookshop and stay for a while at the height of the pandemic (see below):

When Aziraphale outright rejects him, Crowley recoils and quickly says goodbye, intending to set his alarm for July. Here, we see the way in which disorganized attachment operates as a fusion of both anxious and avoidant behaviours; despite wanting to be close, he pulls back immediately and (presumably) resolves not to discuss the fact that he lost his flat and is now sleeping in his Bentley. (As my former philosophy professors have tried to impress upon me so many times,) It's important we consider alternative explanations. It could be possible that this is just him respecting Aziraphale's boundaries and returning to practices that seek to remedy the whole "you go too fast for me" issue. However, this kind of behaviour occurs time and time again, establishing a pattern that goes beyond simply protecting Azi's boundaries, and may index a desire to keep himself safe through emotional avoidance. "You have a hard time self-soothing your emotions" [insert lightning scene here]. He's trying, you guys. He's trying so hard, but it's difficult (and i'd genuinely like to get a scene in s3 where he's allowed to be well and truly angry. no, i'm totally not projecting, why do you ask? what are u, a cop???)! It seems that he turns to repression in the absence of actual emotional processing or soothing (until it comes out all at once, in the case of the lightning). This makes sense, as well, considering there have been very few instances in which he's been truly comforted or soothed by others. Not having comfort modelled to him, combined with his pre-existing low self-esteem helps to illuminate why he turns to repression opposed to taking time to care for himself, etc. Broader Implications + S3 Speculation Alright, we're almost done, I promise! So we've established (or at the very least, put forth an argument for) disorganized attachment in Anthony Janthony Crowley. What does this mean in the context of where we left things off at the end of S2? From my perspective, it means that what happened was completely in-character for both of them. Aziraphale's DAS manifests in more of the traditional, hot-and-cold fearful-avoidance. For Crowley, his caretaking compulsivity finally snapped in the Final Fifteen; Heaven is one place he cannot follow, and exhausted, he walks away (only to stand out on the street, further pointing to the anxious/avoidant duality). I would argue that there was no trick, nothing in the coffee, no coded messages, etc. Rather, like humans, they are both shaped by their trauma and responded in accordance with this. (@actual-changeling has some excellent metas where they further expand on the idea that there was no trick involved in the final fifteen: x. this meta too!: x. massive credit to them, as always hehe)

What about in S3? Speaking from personal experience (because the surrounding literature wasn't super helpful haha), a disorganized attachment style must be unlearned, with a few key factors at play: Since DAS is grounded in formative experiences of volatility, the survival of the individual has to be decoupled from the preservation of connection (with family members, partners, friends, etc.); more specifically, your worth and ability to persist is not dependent on maintaining connection with another. This is incredibly difficult to unlearn when you've experienced it for a couple decades, let alone so many thousands of years. t h e r a p y (pls neil, i need an episode where it’s just Crowley going to see a psychiatrist and he breaks down crying and it’s like “oh yeah. that was really fucked up what happened to me”. again. totally not projecting! <- as always, don’t actually send stuff like this to Neil). Okay, finally. We're at the end. I apologize for the sheer length of this analysis. I had to cut it off here, because the original was going to be wayyyyy longer with more discussion/analysis/etc. However. I am TIRED. So here you go! ✨TaH DaH! ✨ (please don't yell at me ajsdlasjkd. i love azi and crowley both so much and this is just my own interpretation/opinion as someone with a disorganized attachment style lol)

[sumeruin]

♫♪: idée fixe

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, modern au, yandere, dubcon but both people are into it, sorta blackmail? not explicitly but it’s kinda there, slight dacryphilia, i think that’s it but if i missed anything let me know <3

♫♪: pairing: yandere! heizou x yandere! reader

♫♪: a/n: this idea has been bouncing around in my brain for weeks i needed to get it out of there. not proofread because it’s 6am <3 might write a part two to this later but right now this is all you guys get!!!

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!

heizou knows what you’ve been doing. he knows that you like to follow him around whenever he does anything, knows that you have a habit of taking his things without asking, knows that sometimes, when you’re sure he’s not home, you go into his room and lay down on his bed while cuddling into his blankets. he thinks it’s adorable, really, though if you were anyone else he might not take as kindly to it, he always feels slightly giddy whenever he looks over the security camera footage in his home and sees that you’ve come over and taken another small, easily replaceable thing from his desk, or another piece of dirty silverware from his meals. he just loves all your sweet little tendencies.

he knows that you have some secrets he hasn’t yet too, and he’s determined to find them out, which is why he’s picking your lock and quietly letting himself into your bedroom in the middle of the night. he knows it’s risky, that even stepping on a single creaky floorboard could be enough to wake you up and blow his cover as the nice, charming detective that would never commit any crime, but he just can’t resist. he’s getting curious about that little notebook you always seem to be writing in, and he needs to find out what’s in it that you’re so protective of.

he’s careful not to walk too loudly as he makes his way over to your desk, his eyes lighting up when he sees that you already have the notebook he’s looking for set out on the surface.

you just make it so easy, don’t you?

he slowly reaches for it and gently paws through the pages, his eyes widening at the hastily scribbled, almost maniacal words that covered every page. he noticed they started out like how a schoolgirl would write about her innocent little crushes, but the longer time went on the more obsessive the entries looked. the first one stood out to him in particular, he could remember it as the day he finally gathered the courage to talk to you and become friends.

“february 2nd, 2020.

valentine’s day is coming up! i can’t wait to give out treats to everyone. someone new talked to me too! i think his name was heizou? whatever his name is, he’s super cute. i think i’ll try to get to know him better later.”

heizou kept flipping through the notebook entries, coming across one with a picture of him taped in it. he took note of how much more disorganized and frenzied the handwriting seemed.

“september 20th, 2020.

today i saw heizou eating in the park, he looked at me and waved and i almost fainted, he actually looked at me! he likes me enough to recognize me! i’m sure he feels the same way as i do.”

he felt a smile creep on his face. why would you want to hide this from him? he thinks it’s so cute how much you love him. unable to resist, heizou keeps flipping through the pages, around the halfway mark he notices that they go from slightly crazed, but still mostly innocent, ramblings to much more explicit, detailed wishes. he also notices that you stopped dating them at some point. he makes a mental note to ask you about later.

“heizou went to a new coffee shop this morning. he got a different order than what he usually gets, i wish i had managed to hear what it was, but the barista was being too loud. she didn’t deserve to talk to him. she took his presence for granted. if i had the chance to make heizou a drink i’d be much more grateful than she was. i hate her.”

he laughed to himself. you’re just so cute. his smile was replaced by a look of shock at the contents of the next entry.

“….i would give anything to be with heizou. i belong to him, everything that i am is entirely his. i wish i could tell him that, but i don’t want him to think i’m just a creepy stalker. what i’m doing isn’t stalking, i’m just making sure he’s safe! i’m sure he wouldn’t mind if i told him.”

heizou had finally found the incriminating evidence he needed. while it wasn’t the point of this trip, he couldn’t deny that he felt himself getting worked up at the thought of finally having you to himself. and judging by your journal entries, you’ve been waiting just as long for him.

he quickly walked over to your bed, notebook still held tightly on his hands, and gently shook you awake.

“what- heizou? what are you doing?” you looked up at him in dazed confusion, your voice slightly groggy with sleep.

“would you like to explain what you wrote in this little notebook? stalking is a crime you know, i could have you arrested.” heizou reached over to cup your cheek as he spoke, laughing at the shocked expression on your face.

“i- i just really like you a lot and i didn’t wanna tell you cause i was scared y-you wouldn’t like me too and so i started following you so i could find out more about you and th-then it got kinda out of hand but i didn’t wanna stop cause i like you so much and i’m so sorry please don’t hate me!” you squinted your eyes shut, waiting for him to reject you while trying your hardest to ignore the burning feeling on your face.

heizou hummed as he examined your features, the tears threatening to spill past your waterline, the way you leaned into his hand on your cheek, practically cuddling it, the embarrassment he could almost see radiating off you in waves. “do you wanna make it up to me?”

your eyes snapped open. “yes! i’d do anything to make it up to you, please let me!” he cooed softly at how eagerly you begged him, unable to deny how much he liked being in this position of control over you.

“if you wanna make it up to me you have to do everything i say without asking questions, ok?” heizou moved his hand from your cheek to firmly grasp your jaw, smirking to himself when he felt you try to nod against his tight grip. “good. get on your knees on the floor.”

as you were moving positions he sat down on your bed, spreading his legs to make room for you in between them. he reached for the waistband of his pants and released his aching cock from the tight confines. “now, you’re going to suck my cock, and if you do a good enough job, i’ll forgive you. got it?”

you vigorously nodded, already leaning in to press a light kiss against the head. you opened your mouth and slowly started to take him into it, making sure to use your hands on the parts you couldn’t quite get to with your mouth yet. you felt his hands come down on your head, harshly pushing you to take him even deeper and making you gag and choke around him, tears starting to bubble up in your eyes.

“c’mon, i’m sure you can do better than that. you do want me to forgive you, don’t you?” heizou knew he was being a little mean, but he couldn’t help it. you just looked so cute below him, so eager to please that you’re choking on his cock and refusing to come back up for air. he knew you’d do it, but he didn’t think you’d be this enthusiastic about it.

you made yourself suck more of him in at the empty threat in his words, his tip hitting the back of your throat and your nose finally hitting the hard muscle of his abdomen as you tried to remember to breathe. the soft, breathy moans heizou let out when you managed it made it all worth it though, and you started bobbing your head with a newfound determination.

heizou couldn’t wait to fuck that determined little look off your face.

[aria0fgold]

CaiOwe ship headcanons? enemies to lovers is great.

GASP!!! YEEES! That's so true though, enemies to lovers <3 I'm not really a headcanon enthusiast but there are some stuff I like to think about for em!

Owen becomes a knight in the future. Please, please, please. I want that to happen so bad.

Why do I love Owen as a knight? It's just reeeeaaally nice to see him be the protector he's own child self needed. In a way, it's like healing his inner kid. Like sending the message of, hey look! I'm one of your heroes now!

In that same breath, I want Owen to do some knightly prowess on Cain. Cain has been a knight long enough, it's time for him to know how it feels to be spoiled.

Honestly though, contrary to popular belief and as one whose entire belief system bout caiowe got recalibrated by this One Fan I know of in twitter. Owen does the fixing. Cain is like to Owen: (guy who is worse) I can fix him. Meanwhile, Owen who is surprisingly doing better than Cain??? actually does the fixing. On Cain. And on himself by relation.

I reeeaaaallly love it when Cain Still holds some anger towards Owen. It's not easy to forgive a guy who ripped out the endless web of lies and entire facade Cain created to be able to live as peacefully as he can. In fact, Cain is still 6 feet under the lie of a life he has and boy is he in danger of drowning in it.

Also not really easy to forgive a guy who stole your own eye and replaced it with his. But Cain is willing to look past that anyway.

Never getting over Owen practically pulling Cain outta messes he himself sinks into. It's not really a headcanon but it's still unbelievable either way.

To be honest, most of the insane caiowe moments are Canon (in one way or another) so there isn't much for me to headcanon at this point when they're already Like That.

Anyway, disorganized rambling time cuz I really can't think of much to headcanon so I'm firing all cylinders of whatever idea came to mind whenever I think about them. But honestly, I LOVE it whenever Owen hits Cain in such a lighthearted manner that I wouldn't even be surprised if it ends up being a small habit of Owen at this point. Whenever Owen gets irritated, he either kicks Cain's leg or hits his arm and if Cain is too far away for that: throws a shoe at him.

Owen in general has mixed feelings towards Cain honestly that yeah, these two are gonna end up taking 1000+ years to officially be a couple at this rate. Never mind, Cain's problems, there's Owen's problems piled onto it. Although the same can be said to Cain, they both have mixed feelings towards one another that it's going to take YEARS to unpack it all.

Am I allowed to be slightly unhinged here? Not really headcanon territory but more of AU territory but I love thinking of AUs where Cain is so insane enough he'd rip his own heart out and give it to Owen-- I mean-- WHO SAID THAT!

My domestic headcanons for them though when they finally get together cuz I love cozy domestic life <3 Is that they live in a small cabin in the forest nearby a river. Cain and Owen both being knights with Cain being a Captain instead (like before), Cain... Cain is gonna need to take cooking lessons.

Actually before these two can even get their domestic cozy life, there's the hurdle of: Owen WILL NOT COOK. He will not. He does the eating here, he is Not Cooking at all! So that leaves Cain, problem is that... he isn't a good cook... Cain is an expert at frying things though! Cooking? Not so much... These two won't even be able to get their domestic cozy life cuz of Owen and his princess tendencies despite working as a knight. He's there to be spoiled (and help out if he feels like it from time to time), and Cain actually doesn't mind having someone to spoil but also: "Owen will you please help out a little?" "No."

I can even see Cain taking cooking lessons from Nero if he ever wants a peaceful life living together with Owen cuz Owen will NOT BE HAPPY EATING FRIED MEALS EVERYDAY! Owen needs a full course meal where dessert makes up about 70% of that otherwise he's gonna get Cranky. And Cain would rather deal with a happy Owen (during their cozy life together cuz honestly right now, he feels Alarmed when Owen is in a good mood) than an irritated Owen.

[r3d-m3dic]

alr alr headcanon time. Under the cut because this is long. I could ramble about this game for hours. This is probably just gonna be about Lukas and Aiden. Maybe some Maya and Gill. Also it's probably a disorganized mess.

Edit: hey hey! So i rewatched a mcsm play through, and have thought about some of the head canons i put here. I'll cross out ones I no longer believe, or add on a bit to make them make sense!

First up

Lukas headcanons (this section will also include some family things)

Transgender omnisexual.

Him and Aiden used to date.

Lukas and Aiden knew each other since Elementary school. Lukas met Maya and Gill in high school, and introduced them to Aiden.

Lukas went to college, but it was briefly paused due to the witherstorm bullshit.

Lukas is 20 during the events of season one.

His parents are divorced, and his father got custody. His mother got custody of Erik, his brother (my oc). They divorced in Lukas's sophomore year.

His father is a doctor.

His mother owns a barber shop, and always cut his hair at home.

When Lukas's parents divorced, him and his brother rarely saw each other, and drifted apart. Especially since Erik was always off doing some silly adventure with Lex (other OC. Jesse's younger sibling.)

In the beginning of the divorce however, Lukas was always with his brother, knowing what would likely happen. Him, and the rest of The Ocelots are very protective of Erik.

Lukas has always wanted to be a writer, and has been writing since he was in elementary school. He typically used to write fantasy and super heroes. His favorite author is Tolkien, and he loves LOTR.

Doesn't yell much. He prefers a mature discussion rather then an angry scream filled argument.

Slightly insecure about his weight. The moment he thinks he's gaining any weight, he'll barely eat.

When him and Axel were finally on good terms with each other, Lukas actually talked to Axel about this. Axel has helped a bunch. I love me some wholesome Lukas and Axel :3

After the skycity thing, when The Blazerods were in prison, Lukas insisted Jesse get Aiden a therapist. He didn't need to insist much really, Jesse was on board because Aiden very much needed mental help.

Lukas is currently on good terms with the Blazerods, he would always talk to them when they were in jail, give them food, listen. They were his friends, especially Aiden. He's gonna want to help them become better people if he can.

Had the biggest crush on Jesse during the events of season 1. This was obvious to everyone except for Jesse. Finally confessed before the events of season 2. Obviously Jesse accepted.

When the Admin was pretending to be Jesse, Lukas was absolutely heartbroken. The joy he felt when the real Jesse came back and explained the Admin Jesse wasn't actually him is crazy. He wouldn't let go of Jesse after everything calmed down.

Lukas doesn't live in Beacontown. He lives off in some small cabin.

He has two cats.

He was tiny up until high school when he got a growth spurt.

I should probably move on to Aiden now.

Aiden headcanons (this section will also include some family things.)

Most would say he's irredeemable, but I disagree. I believe that he can be redeemed, and got a chance after season 2. Lukas helped him out as said previously.

Aiden was surprised when Lukas actually wanted to help him get better, rather then ignore him and let him rot alone.

Therapy did help Aiden. He needed therapy, some help at least.

Aiden doesn't live in Beacontown. He built a house in a cave. Maya and Gill live there with him.

Whilst Maya and Gill visit Beacontown, Aiden never does. He's actually kind of scared too. Afraid he'll get shunned.

Whilst he used to be very loud on what he thinks, after season 2 he begun keeping to himself. He writes in a journal, that nobody even knows exists.

He is still in love with Lukas. But Lukas is dating Jesse, so he keeps that to himself.

Speaking of dating Lukas, nobody knew. Nobody except for Maya and Gill. Absolutely nobody else knew. And Aiden would prefer to keep it that way. Lukas never told anyone about it, not even after they broke up.

If past Aiden met current Aiden, I think he'd freak out about how he's gone soft.

Aiden's parents are not good parents. They'd rather drink until they can't think then take care of their son. This is where most of Aiden's hatred comes from. Despite how mean he was, Lukas stuck with him.

Aiden has always been an only child. He's the youngest of his cousins, on both sides of the family.

He has a Blåhaj. Yes he still sleeps with it. No, nobody knows.

Aiden dropped out of high school in his Junior year.

He would give anything to go back and stop himself from dropping out.

Aiden made the Jackets! He's incredibly talented with sewing, and making clothing. He actually made his own shirt.

His favorite member of the OG Order of The Stone is Magnus, hence the shirt. His parents refused to get one for him, that's why he made it himself.

He has not gotten taller since 7th grade. He has had that shirt since 7th grade. He still wears it, and it's somehow in mint condition.

He secretly enjoys the song It Girl, he likes it so much that it's his favorite song. He'd rather die then admit that. If you ask he'll say some rap song. He likes Kendrick. (Might be OOC but its funny)

He was an absolute menace in middle school. I mean, he still is a menace, but he reached peak menace in middle school. Only thing that topped what he did in middle school was him becoming an actual terrorist (the skycity incident).

In his sophomore year, there was a school dance. However, the rules were that women couldn't wear suits, and men couldn't wear dresses. Obviously people were mad about that, because like c'mon.. Who actually cares??

So anyways, Aiden showed up in an absolutely gorgeous dress, and Maya showed up in a full suit. Both slayed. The best Aiden had ever looked. They didn't end up getting kicked out for it, thank god.

Aiden still has that dress, it just hangs in his closet as a fun memory. It still fits him.. Well, it's a little tight.

It's a bit tight because he has gained some weight in the time between that dance, and now. He's a bit chubby.

He used to go to Endercon because he enjoyed building. But his enjoyment turned into competitiveness. Which turned toxic. Which results in him bullying the other competitors. Gill and Maya join in because it's fun. It's fun to be mean.* Lukas never joined in, but Aiden could care less. They did start having more and more arguments up to the events of season 1 episode 1.

*Little disclaimer. Whilst it may seem fun to you to be mean, it's always better to be nice. Don't get caught up in your own personal enjoyment. Consequences exist, and they're not fun.

Aiden is severely starved of physical anything really. Lukas hugged him one time and that almost made him reconsider being an asshole.

He stayed with Lukas's family a lot of his childhood.

He grew his hair out during his time rotting away in a cell, and actually liked it. So he kept long hair.

I can't really think of anything else. These might be OOC, and a lot for Aiden is after season 2 and him softening up a lot. Well, feel free to comment or reblog with your headcanons!

:3

[yestrday]

FALL VICTIM TO MY BRAINROT...

corin doodles

my brain idea where thoma feeds corin sometimes, and he's just like, "thoma i am literally in love with you" (it was really good food)

unrelated to the academy au but giggling at that one post about childe coming home with blood on him and what if corin was his husband.

Corin looking him up and down.

"...Listen, I don't care WHAT you do outside of this house. But I swear, if you track that blood in here, you BETTER clean it up." resuming whatever he was doing. "Bring an extra change of clothes next time."

ALSO ALSO.... i kinda made a new character with corin in this academy au

yeah they're nana... they don't actually have any lore, but it's just funny if the harem just absolutely hates them and they're like "what did I even do???"

it'd be funny if they unintentionally interrupted the harem's time with Corin... rip though </3 (they can probably fight, cute characters that can fight are fun to me)

You get slightly more Corin lore btw because I'm. disorganized.

Corin isn't oblivious to the harem's antics and their obsession with him. He just... kind of lets it be. He's too stoned to care rn. It DEFINITELY comes back to haunt him in the end, but shhh, he's just silly!

Also Corin beats up Albert (I actually fucking hate Albert so much like,,,, leave my girl Barbara alone!!!!!) because I simply see that he is protective over his friends (yes. Barbara is his friend. you can't do anything about it.)

I did give him a sexuality btw,,,, he's asexual and demiromantic (also gay... that man loves men after a deep emotional bond is formed.. good for him..)

I'M SORRY FOR MY RAMBLING HERE'S MORE!!!!!

Corin's relationship with Diluc isn't necessarily romantic nor platonic but a secret third option. Definitely fucked up because yandere but it's a secret third option!

NO NANA... LITERALLY GASPED THEYRE LIKE THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A MAHWA WHERE THEY GET ISEKAIED INTO THE BODY OF AN UNSUSPECTING SIDE CHARACTER... I FEEL SO BAD THEY MIGHT DIE...

also corin is based for thoma 😔 that man is a walking green flag (stained with blood but we dont talk about that). also albert 😭 i dont hate the guy i feel like hes an overzealous stan at most but omg dont break him too bad corin

corin just letting things happen with the harem.... valid. if i had 10 tons of weed in my system i wouldnt give a shit either. also. i dont wanna die.

[mass-convergence]

A collarary to the advice of "they'll read it if they want to and they won't if they don't" is - they need to find it. People not reading your work is not a mark against its' quality, it's simply evidence that people haven't found it. As a published author myself I get it, it sucks when noone reads your work. It feels that you have put something out into the world and that it is being ignored. But it is not being actively ignored, it is not being judged as poor quality. It simply hasn't been found. Courage and patience. Don't be scared to send links to reviewers or people in other circles.

Sincerely - thank you.

Long, somewhat disorganized, ramble

It is frustrating, and part of this is my (admittedly ADHD related, though trying to blame it solely on that isn’t really getting the full picture) need for instant gratification and complete lack of patience in anything. And the general insecurity that if it doesn’t get some kind of recognition, positive or otherwise, that I’m just showing my whole ass to the world and people are being too polite to mention it. I also have issues with emotional regulation so it literally feels like someone’s squeezing my heart whenever I get into this state.

And I’ll be honest: I’m frustrated with people who have said they’ll read it or check it out and then never do. And I don’t feel like keeping on poking them and asking them if they are. Because I’ve gotten the “I’m sorry I’ve just been so busy” explanation about a hundred times now (only slightly exaggerating).

And I don’t want to call them liars because I’m an adult with a day job and a mountain of responsibilities that I’m only somewhat keeping up with. There’s plenty of stuff I want to watch or consume that I don’t have mental bandwidth to handle. I’ve read the first paragraph of Gideon the Ninth and I want to read more I just haven’t gotten a chance. Which also is lending to mental health issues but we do not have the time to unpack that rn.

This is something I’m passionate about and pouring my heart into and not even getting the bare minimum of support from people who purportedly said they’re interested is not really a fun spot to be in. (And I know one or two of my friends have been reading and I love you guys). My mom said she was gonna read it which is slightly terrifying because she’s not into queer fantasy but she’s also like unabashedly supportive and has been trying to get me to publish my writing and sell my art for goddamn ages. I’m not on the level of Tolkien or Pratchett or Gaiman (Martin you stay the fuck out of this) and I’m not trying to be them either. But I think I’m like decent.

And I guess I took some of the advice when I was writing fanfic that “well people who aren’t interested won’t read it so don’t worry about posting cringe” and extrapolated it to original fic. Which isn’t a 1:1 - people legitimately do not give a shit about other’s OCs unless they’re given a reason to care.

Side note: Partially the reason that while I could advertise this (and probably should) as a story lead by queer protags, two of whom are POCs, that doesn’t really tell you anything about them. Aside from representation. Admittedly: I’m not too great at self promo because I feel like I’m hyping me and my story telling ability way too much. Which is a self fulfilling prophecy when I inevitably don’t get any bites.

It’s a rough situation all around and frankly demotivating. Part of the reason I just didn’t post on Thursday because I was just so damn tired of posting and having to deal with the pain over and over again. I have a huge buffer of words and chapters and I’m frankly having a hard time deciding if I should keep posting them. I mean my last chapter didn’t get any notes except for the one reblog … which was my own fucking reblog onto this blog.

And I think I’ve come a long way from like not disparaging my own shit. I love my writing. I love my art. I just hate sharing it and not getting the same level of excitement I feel to tell a story I want to tell.

[fictionfixations]

Awake and Unafraid | TMA Fic (Fic Rec)

Martin's new job at the Institute isn't what he was expecting. Along with Tim and Sasha, he's struggling with a disorganized Archive, no direction from their slightly-devious boss, and the growing feeling that they're in danger. Which is not helped by the cryptic warnings from a far too-knowing voice on an ancient tape recorder calling themselves the Archivist.

its. so fucking. cool. AND IT MAKES SENSE, like genuinely. with an actual plot, and i really enjoyed it. There was no part where I felt like 'I have to stop reading' because it's too much? It was perfect. Well not perfect perfect obviously, but I had a really enjoyable experience binging it lmfao. If you don't know what TMA stands for, its The Magnus Archives, its basically like a horror podcast. This is where I admit most of my knowledge comes from other fanfics because I'm still on like season one? And I do this thing where I tune out background noise accidentally, but I wouldn't be able to fully focus on it because I'm a multi-task person, so I've been slowly doing the task of reading the transcripts for every episode out loud instead, which helps but I get a headache cause MAN they're long.

anyway this is Martin/Jon, which I'm still figuring out ships but I'm assuming that's the big whole OTP that nearly everyone ships in the fandom, but if that's not your cup of tea (cause that's understandable, I think Bakudeku is like an OTP but some people find it uncomfortable due to the previously kinda toxic relationship?) here's your warning. Uh. also. as the tags say. "The Usual TMA Warnings Apply". Which. uhh. if you're squeamish at just the mention of stuff maybe. don't. Or maybe if you don't like horror?? I've never actually been affected by horror books unless they're super gross or go extremely in depth about depictions of like, say, gore, so I can't actually say if the fic is scary at all, but I found myself very invested. Also uhh, Martin POV. If you've been looking at my bookmarks recently (why are you?) then you'd find it's kind of like a mix of TMA and HP x Twilight rn. Opposite sides of the spectrum kinda where ones are either romance-typical with Twilight which I've never seen, or character bashing. And then TMA's here like 'there are things more powerful and blah blah blah--' But to be fair..

At the very left is Twilight x HP. And the very right is TMA. Although a few tabs are out of sight because I have too many open. lmfao. Anyway I've been rambling. Um. Um. UH. JUst. give it a shot??? You kinda get the gist of what's going on after you read a few multi-chapter fics because it develops a timeline and they generally tend to be close to the 'start' (which I don't know when. but. worm usually.) and then you can kinda notice based on similarities between fics what's usually canon. imma shut up now (anyway martins a def fav that you might see around if i have more fics to share)

[guitarbrain]

ok. smtvv soundtrack. i’ll be editing this post as i listen through it just to ramble about my thoughts on it, so this post is gonna be a disorganized mess. once i'm done i'll probably make a new post to put things in a more logical order.

i know it’s kinda hard to judge a game’s soundtrack if you’re just listening to it and don’t have the context of what is happening in-game as each song plays but idk. i don’t feel like giving atlus any money until i know the game will be worth it. so i'll just be listening to the music. my thoughts are under the cut

i also have to say, im probably gonna skip a lot of the more ambient tracks that play for cutscenes and stuff cuz if they’re anything like the original game then they don’t have a lot of interesting stuff going on and work best when they’re. yknow. in the background of a cutscene. i won't be commenting much on the quest songs either. my focus is mostly on whatever really stands out to me, mainly character and battle themes.

the soundtrack is organized into 3 discs, so that's how i'll organize this post as well.

disc 1:

the first two songs, hallucination and omen, set a really interesting tone. it still has a really similar feeling to the original game which i am happy to hear. hallucination has those choirs and then goes all in on that electronic sort of beat which i think is a really cool blend with the vocals. i would assume this is the title screen music, but im not sure. omen is a lot more mellow sounding and sounds a lot like the stuff you’d hear from the original game, but something about this gives a slightly different feeling. not sure what it is.

yoko’s theme (i assume?) doesn’t really stand out as anything fantastic to me. idk. maybe it’s just because i don’t have context for who she is as a character, but this song feels a little plain to me. a lot like her design, but that’s not what i’m here to talk about :))

first battle theme. beast of blood. this is already Very different from the battle music in the original game. i like the distorted synth they get going like a minute in. this song feels a lot more electronic than the stuff in the original game, and really cuts back on that noisy style that most of the battle music had. this one isn’t a wall of noise like something like battle da’at has. it definitely gives a different feeling, though i don’t really prefer it. it’s certainly a cool song but it just doesn’t have a lot of energy to it. hopefully the battle songs after this will have some more intensity.

ok damn. i said all that and now the next song is the vengeance version of battle da’at. i’m glad they kept the noisy sound it has, but they definitely cut back some of it. the original song felt like there really was no empty space, which i really love about it. feels like the music has no room to breathe and makes the battle feel more intense. i think the vengeance version still has a similar level of noise, but having the drums be much more clear makes that background noise feel a lot less threatening. love the weird sounding tone on that guitar riff towards the end, and i really love how they leave a small gap for the drums to ring out a bit before the song loops. given some time for this one to grow on me i think i may start to prefer it over the original. i think they did a really great job with this version

the demon haunt music. i don’t think it’s anything too special and i have some Opinions on the demon haunt so uh. wont get into that

ok uuh. fool sru shin sounds like a shop song to me. weird as hell. i like it. i wonder if i’m right about the shop thing cuz i don’t care enough to look into where this song plays

first contact with the quadištu song. this one sounds extremely tense. again i don’t know much about what actually happens in the game but this song helps me make a decent guess at that, which means they did a good job i think.

the quatištu battle music is really interesting. still keeping up the same style as the other battle songs so far. this sounds like it has splatoon vocals in it which is kinda funny. but i really like this song. it’s just weird as hell and feels kinda threatening

young man’s room is a cool song i like that it sounds like a music box almost. i’m curious where it plays in game. it’s not exactly a peaceful song either, it sounds super dissonant and just sounds slightly wrong and uncomfortable, but doesn’t exactly feel directly threatening either

i really like quest miyazu. i am taking this as a good sign that she’s actually gonna get screentime outside of some random line of side quests. i hope. but the song is very nice and reflects her personality (or at least the little scraps of it you can see in the original game) quite well

a random side note: i like that they still took the quest songs as an opportunity to play around with different kinds of instruments and musical styles. it allows some freedom with experimenting without compromising the overall style and tone of the game's music. if that makes sense.

battle speedster. the intro is very old megaten to me, and i love the sort of messy guitar. i think the like. car zooming sound is interesting? that combined with my initial thought about it sounding like older smt songs is making me think about chris the car from smt ii. not sure if that's a good or bad thing. i love the guitar tone they have, it's really unique and sounds super gritty and grimy. and i'm a big fan of the choppy sort of sound they have towards the end, it's another one of those sounds they have been using a lot that sounds almost like vocals but not exactly like them. i don't really know what i'm talking about here, i just have to say i really really like this song. though i wonder if it could end up getting a bit repetitive over time.

sahori and tao. this song already really is interesting. the song immediately starts out with the super dissonant piano. they don't even give you nice sounding notes to start, it throws you right in to this really broken sounding tune. i don't know much about how sahori and tao have been written in vengeance, but i think having this song with two different piano parts playing out of tune with each other and clashing is fitting for their relationship. sahori struggling and feeling broken by the bullying she's endured, but never getting help from tao because she never asks for it and tao doesn't reach out to her either. really interesting song. i love it and it makes me eager to see how tao and sahori interact in the new storyline.

dinner party and ace detective pixie are more examples of songs that make me really curious about where they play in game. they feel like you'd be solving a mystery while they play and i really hope that's the case because i think that would be funny. but dinner party sounds like it would go well with a stealth section. and i like that they went all in with the bass in ace detective pixie. i think these songs would sound even better with context in-game, because they do stand well on their own but feel a little confusing when they are such a huge break from the other music in this soundtrack.

song of kinmamon is really interesting to be because in terms of the sounds they used in this song, it sounds like it should be something tense, but melodically it gets lighter and as they introduce more instruments/sounds that also lightens up the tone of the song as well.

heels and horizons is weird as fuck. again with the splatoon vocals. but i think it's super cool i like the beat and the really bloopy electronic sound it has.

battle gliding is yet another song that has an intro/beginning section that reminds me of old smt music. they're also throwing together a lot of different instruments and sounds into this one which actually works quite well and makes every section of the song sound different while still having some cohesion. i like this one a lot as well.

disc 2:

battle deadlock is interesting because it really doesn’t sound like its battle music. i like the end of it but i don’t know how fun it would be to fight enemies while this song plays. i feel like it’s a bit too tame. but maybe i’d change my opinion if i heard it play in game. idk

humanity and its future has the motif from the original game. i think this is the first time i have properly heard it aside from in battle da’at, but that had been changed slightly. i like that they have some kind of ambient sounds behind the piano. and again it’s a somewhat similar thing to sahori and tao where it’s a little bit dissonant with the lower piano line sometimes playing “wrong” notes.

i’m gonna lump all the songs for the new area of da’at into this paragraph. shinjuku gyoen is really cool starting out quiet with the kind of shrill sounding melody. i love the drums kicking in like a third of the way in. this is a really cool song and i think it will be even cooler playing in the background of exploring. jingu naien has a really different sound starting out, with that sort of out-of-tune bell sound. this is another one of those songs where im getting an image of what kind of area it would play in. but i won’t say what that image is in case im wrong.

quest poison gas man is super cool is has that really loud drum beat and there’s really no melody it has that loud front sound that reminds me of battle dancing crazy murder :))

battle alkalic rush is. so fucking cool. i don’t even know where to start with describing it. this shit’s groovy. half of the sounds in this song sound wet. some of them sound like a fart. and it’s awesome. i was thinking this song would be the dancing crazy murder of smtvv but i don’t think that would be an accurate comparison to make.

[slowburningechoes]

remediation

Summary: When your first forensic interview isn't up to program standards, you are forced to meet with your obnoxiously intelligent teacher's assistant to brush up on your knowledge and skills... but he ends up being much different than you imagined.

Pairing: TA!Spencer Reid x Graduate Student Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ Content (NSFW/NSFM) | Slow burn with eventual smut, angst, fluff, pining, sexual tension, office encounters, oral (f)

Word Count: 7.4k

This had to be the most mortifying experience of your life. You had never failed at anything before. Aside from negative lab results from the hospital, your record of passing tests and proving your competency in various areas has never been a problem. Academic accomplishment was your strong suit.

And now, you found yourself here.

In your professor's (who also happens to be the director of the entire program) office, along with his teaching assistant, who happened to be the most obnoxious man you'd ever encountered.

Even though he was only a teaching assistant, Professor Walters always made sure that we called him Doctor Reid since he already had two PhDs and was on his way to a third. He wasn't even a psychology student, he just picked up being the PSY745: Advanced Forensic Psychology TA for fun. Who does that? How was he even allowed to do that?

Those factors alone were enough to vex you, but the reasons just continued to pile up. His hair always being tucked behind his ears, the loose professional clothes swallowing his lanky body, the thick black framed glasses he would wear sporadically... but the absolute worst of all were the tangents.

Somehow, Dr. Reid always knew something about everything - and everything about that something. He would ramble on past the point of relevance, stating the most arbitrary statistics in the most interminable manner. You swear he rambled on last week for nearly an hour about the specific neurochemical indictors associated with criminal deviance. That was the only one you could recall the specifics of since it was slightly interesting and mildly related to the topic of the lecture... but still exasperating, nonetheless.

Now, you found yourself in a predicament stuck in the same room with him for an indeterminate amount of time. You hoped that Dr. Walters would take the lead on this very critical (and frankly, mortifying) conversation... but unsurprisingly, Dr. Reid opened his mouth first.

"Well, miss y/l/n," he started, propping his right ankle upon the opposite knee. "I assume you know why you're here?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and maintain professional, responding blankly, "Yes. I do. I made a C on my clinical interview at the men's correctional facility."

Dr. Walters chimed in, "Correct. I believe that you may benefit from some additional guidance before your next session. Until then, pending the results of that interview, you will be placed on remediation."

He was right. You had entered the interview room of the prison, something you had looked forward to accomplishing throughout your entire adult life, and completely froze. You couldn't figure out for the life of you why, whether it was realizing the heinous crimes of the man across from you or knowing that both the men who sat across from you now were standing behind the two-way mirror analyzing your every move. When you finally formed words, they were careless and disorganized, allowing the subject to completely take over the interview. It was humiliating... but this sit-down may be even worse.

"I think that would be very beneficial. Thank you, Dr. Walters," you say, swallowing your pride.

"Perfect. Up until your next interview, you will meet at least twice weekly with Dr. Reid," he states matter-of-factly.

There was no inquiry in his tone, no inflection requiring a response from you. It was set in stone. Dr. Reid was your new tutor for the next two and a half weeks. That meant 4 meets at the very least. But you had to agree as a compliance to your remediation. Your academic success was on the line, and that was a bigger disruption to your life than having to put up with Mr. Know-It-All a couple times a week.

"How does tomorrow at 8:30 work for you?" Dr. Reid asks, opening his leather bound planner.

"In the morning?" You raise your eyebrows, to which he responds with a nod. "On a Saturday?" Another nod.

Alright, you were convinced this man was truly insane. The delay in your speech caused him to tilt his head, signally for an answer. You had already planned a school work-free night of copious wine consumption with your roommate, but you decided you had nothing to lose in agreeing to meet sooner rather than later.

"I have a feeling you'll need some caffeine. Do you want to meet at The Roast?" he offered generously.

You hadn't expected him to care about how conscious you would be, since he had already suggested an early morning meeting on the weekend.

"I'll see you there," you agree, leading his pencil to jot down the information under tomorrow's date. "Thank you, again, Dr. Walters... Dr. Reid."

Your eyes meet for a moment longer then expected before you quickly gather your belongings and head out of the office.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The progressively louder beeps from your alarm woke you up with a jolt from your wine-induced slumber at 7:15 am. The first thing you noticed was the splitting headache spreading across your forehead and deep behind your temples. Probably not your best idea, but you weren't going to sacrifice plans you had already set in stone just for a good night's sleep before meeting with some overly intellectual teaching assistant.

You pop a few Tylenol and take a quick scalding hot shower, and the hangover begins to wear off. As you brush your teeth, you contemplate just showing up as you are - sweatpants and wild hair barely held back by your scrunchy, but you figure that may reflect just as poorly on your professionalism than failing your interview assignment. Plus, you know Dr. Reid will inevitably be dressed to the nines. He probably even expected you to show up looking slovenly. You decide to prove him wrong.

You sort through your closet in an attempt to find the most obnoxiously academic outfit you own. The typical black suit-white blouse combination that most forensics students donned was certainly not enough to prove your point. As you reach the end of your professional clothes, you see the perfect outfit: a pencil dark chocolate brown tartan skirt with a long sleeve cream mock-neck shirt. To finish the outfit off, you grab the matching blazer for the skirt, dark tights, and black chunky loafers.

You pulled your hair back so most of it was off of your neck and face, but a few wispy parts fell to the front before glancing down to check the time on your phone.

8:05 am. You can't believe you spent so much time searching for an outfit for your mandatory tutoring session - how embarrassing. You had to pick up your pace, the coffee shop was at least a fifteen minute walk and you sure as hell weren't going to be late. You were certain that Dr. Reid had already ordered some piping hot bitter black coffee and overanalyzed the room to choose the most ideal seating for optimal heat flow or something completely ridiculous like that.

You manage to throw together some light coverage makeup, swiping gel through your brows and managing to get one coat of mascara on before your stumbling out the door with your backpack swung over one shoulder.

The walk is chillier than you expect and for a moment you regret being bare legged in the middle of fall in New England, but the impact of the outfit would make up for bracing the frigid air.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By the time you enter the coffee shop, your nose and cheeks are bright pink from cold and the heat inside was so warm it stung your skin. You pull out your phone to check the time just as your body fully passes through the doorway.

8:25 am. The cold had slowed you down a bit, but you were still technically early.

You scan the room and lock eyes with Dr. Reid in the corner booth diagonal from the doorway. His usually straight and studying stare was strangely one that seemed to be of concern, with furrowed brows and widened eyes. As you stride towards him, he suddenly stands up.

"This side is warmer, sit here," he says, gesturing to wear he had just been seated.

You give him a confused look. "No, Dr. Reid. That's alright, really."

"No, no, you look like you're freezing," he motions to the bench and places his hand on your back. "I insist."

You didn't feel like arguing, especially since all you could think about was getting off your feet - those loafers definitely weren't broken in all the way. Why did you care to impress him so much anyways?

You sit down and hand his briefcase off to him from across the table. He was right, though, this side was pretty cozy already.

"You haven't even ordered anything yet. What would you like?" Dr. Reid asks, moving his own cup across the table.

You catch a glimpse at the abbreviations on the side that translated to: 20 oz latte with two extra shots of espresso and - 6 packets of sugar? This man definitely wasn't the straight black coffee man you pinned him to be. He certainly needed the caffeine boost, but he needed enough sugar to kill a small animal in order to down it.

You glance up at him and his head is perched to the side, waiting for an answer to his inquiry.

"Uh - don't worry, I'll go grab something real quick!" You urge, fiddling through your backpack for your wallet.

"It's alright, let me get it. Something to make having to sit with me a little less miserable," he states, spitting the first self-deprecating and non-savant joke you'd heard him say. "What will it be?"

You manage to half-grin through your frozen cheeks, agreeing to his offer. "A hot dirty chai with oat milk would be perfect."

You swear you caught a smirk flash across his face before he turned and headed for the counter. You had never thought of Dr. Reid as being anything less than some kind of humanoid robot, but he was managing to quickly tear down that perspective. When he arrived back with your drink, he continued to deconstruct that idea entirely by a simple phrase.

"You can call me Spencer, by the way."

Spencer. You, of course, knew his first name couldn't possibly be "doctor" but there was never an inkling that he would be okay with you calling him anything but that title.

"Then you can call me y/n, not miss y/l/n," you respond teasingly, slipping the warm drink from his hand.

An embarrassed grin spreads across his lips. "Yeah, I'm sorry about all that. It's an old school formality that Dr. Walters insists upon. But here, I'm Spencer and you're y/n."

Something about the way he said your name made all of your cheeks radiate with heat, thankfully the wind-burn rash covered up the fact that you were blushing. That was even more embarrassing than spending a ridiculous amount of time on your outfit, especially since it seems to have had no influence on him whatsoever compared to the fact you looked frozen. Now he was making you blush, what the hell?

"So, what do you say we get to it?" Spencer inquires, opening up his briefcase to remove multiple books and a file with your name on it. "What has been giving you the most trouble?"

You down another sip of your tea before reaching into your backpack to remove your laptop. "Honestly, reviewing general interview skills would probably be beneficial."

He opened the black folder with your name on the front and shuffled through the stack of papers in its right pocket. Spencer pulls out numerous papers from various points in the stack and laid them out between the two of you. They were some of your verbatim transcriptions from your practice interviews from throughout your previous semester and current forensic psychology classes. Each had a red circled "A" on the top right-hand corner with various positive comments along the side.

"You know the content, y/n. You have the skills and you demonstrated them well when practicing with your peers. We can go over them again if you like, but I don't want to repeat things you already excel at," Spencer said matter-of-factly, pointing to the multiple successes spread in front of you.

You were silent for a moment, stunned that he had said you "excelled" and generally unsure of how to proceed. You couldn't admit to him that you had just become paralyzed as you entered the room. That you felt incapable and that your heart was beating a thousand times per second as soon as the door slammed shut behind you. The doubt permeated and transformed into anxiety, which completely ruined not only your confidence but now your competency level. You wanted, still, to prove yourself as capable and qualified in your pursuits.

Spencer eventually broke the silence, sensing your discomfort. He proceeded to go back over the basic intervention skills with you and pose a variety of practice questions for the next few hours until it was close to lunch time. He was right, it did feel repetitive and quite pointless, but if it helped you overcome the remediation period that's all that mattered.

As you wrapped up your first session together and headed for the door of the cafe, Spencer noticed how your face winced as the cold air hit your body.

"Let me drive you home, y/n," he insisted, adjusting the long strap that held his briefcase on his arm. "You were practically frozen when you came in this morning."

"The sun is out now, so it won't be as cold," you responded quickly.

He gave you a smug and perplexed look. "Don't be ridiculous. My car is right around the corner."

You gave in and walked beside him down the sidewalk, bundling your coat around you for warmth. Spencer eventually halted beside an old fashioned cream colored car and placed his keys in the passenger side door. Once unlocked, he opened the door and motioned for you to take a seat.

When you sat down you noticed the cool touch of the dark leather against the back of your thighs and a faint scent of bergamot and vanilla surrounded you. Soon, Spencer sat down beside you. The make of the car was so antique there was no console to separate your knees from accidentally bumping his.

"Where am I headed?" he asked, wrapping his long arm around the back of your seat to turn and look out the rearview window. That scent of warm bergamot and vanilla completely engulfed you as the space between the two of you was closed more than ever.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself and respond, "Uh - about 8 blocks that way. I live at the apartments off third."

He nods with understanding as he shifts gears and then proceeds to turn on the radio. The soft classical music made the silence of the short drive bearable.

As the car rolled to stop in front of your apartment building, you didn't expect Spencer to get out and open the door for you once again - but he did.

Almost simultaneously, you both reach towards the floor of the car to grab your backpack. You accidentally bump heads and find yourself nose to nose with your now not-so-annoying and kind-of-handsome teacher's assistant. For a moment, neither of you move or say a word. In fact, you try your best not to breathe too sharply. You lock eyes with Spencer and notice a fervor in his gaze that made your heartbeat begin to beat so hard that you swore that both of you could hear it.

Suddenly, he pulls away and stands parallel to the opened door. As you come out of the car and stand in front of him, he quickly states, "I'll email you... to set up our next session."

You can't ignore the tension and manage to crack a half smile in a failed attempt to break it.

"That sounds great. Thank you, again," you respond, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and stepping further onto the sidewalk.

Spencer's posture was like a stone wall and his sweet demeanor from earlier in your interactions suddenly formed back into that of a strict professional.

"You're welcome," was all he managed to spit out before abruptly closing the passenger side door and entering back into the car.

His sudden attitude shift was nerve-racking and even as he drove away, it left you dumbfounded standing beside your building's entryway. Was there something about being close to you that was truly that off putting? Self consciousness filled your mind as you considered the fact that maybe it was your breath or that you forgot to put on deodorant... but nothing seemed to make sense.

You tried your best to let it go as you walked the steps up to your apartment, but you found yourself growing more nervous for your next session than you were for your first - not because of academic stress, but because of the unpredictability and complexity of Dr. Spencer Reid.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

That Tuesday in class, Dr. Reid - Spencer - or whatever he wanted to be called at this point, avoided eye contact with you throughout the entire lecture. Even when he passed out a case vignette, he managed to dodge your gaze. It had been two days and obviously whatever it was that happened was still on his mind. He hadn't even emailed you about your next session yet and it was 10:00 am on the second day of the week - he's usually a Monday at 8:00 am kind of instructor. Shockingly, though, the remediation session concern was secondary in your mind to the fact that he seemed to actively attempt to evade you. Even after class, you went to speak with him at the lectern, but he seemed to rush out of the classroom with unorganized stacks of papers in his hand.

Fine, you thought. Office hours it is.

You didn't even bother to knock on his door before opening it swiftly. There he was behind a vintage wooden desk with a collection of papers skewed in front of him. He was studying them so intently it was almost as if he hadn't heard you enter at all, so you cleared your throat to get his attention.

When Spencer looked up and saw you, his eyes widened with surprise and what seemed to be a touch of anxiety. "Oh - y/n, hello. Wh-what can I do for you?" He shuffled the papers in front of him into a drawer quickly.

"Setting up our next session would be nice," you state matter-of-factly. He goes to open up his agenda as you continue. "And maybe an explanation to why you've been acting so strange with me."

His eyes dart up quickly and he adamantly protests, "I have no idea what you mean."

You place the heel of your palms on the edge of his desk and lean over closer towards him. "Well, you haven't emailed me -"

"I forgot."

"Forgot? Aren't you known for having an eidetic memory or something?" you respond in disbelief.

He has no rebuttal to that.

"You wouldn't look at me or even walk by me during lecture. And I had to chase you all the way to your office in order to speak to you at all," you say before flopping down onto the brown barrel chair across from his desk.

"I'm sorry," Spencer says, his head hanging low. "I've just had a lot on my mind... well, more than usual. Personal stuff. I should've been more accessible to you, I know that the remediation period is stressful enough already."

The apology and explanation seemed reasonable enough, so you dropped the subject and moved on to schedule your next meeting. Together, you agreed upon the meeting back in his office following day after your final lecture was over at 5:00 pm.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

5:00 pm rolled around and you found yourself alone in Spencer's office. He was always punctual without fail, but you didn't worry too much since he said he had a lot going on. You took the extra time to walk around the small area and look at all the little trinkets and decor he had set up. There were fossils, stacks of unfinished crosswords, and numerous books about a vast variety of subjects among so many other things.

You tried not to look at his desk, since you were certain there was confidential information about your peers, but your interest was piqued whenever you saw your name at the top of a piece of paper sticking out of the top left drawer. You quietly pulled it open a few more inches and fingered through the stack of paper. Each and every one read "y/l/n, y/n" somewhere on them. Your academic transcripts, your curriculum vitae, your personal statement, and multiple research papers were among the stack. You realized that the papers he had been studying so diligently yesterday were all of your documents. You were stunned and felt stuck in place, you didn't find it creepy but you did find it baffling.

Suddenly, the office door creaked and you practically jumped to sit down across from the desk. Spencer entered with a deep breath and walked past you to get to his seat, but his leg bumped into the still-open drawer on the way. You had to hold back from gasping and tried your best to regain your composure, acting as if you had seen nothing.

Spencer swiftly closed the drawer and walked back around towards you to sit on the edge of his desk. "I can explain," he said softly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you claim.

"Y/n, I know you saw them," Spencer sighed, crossing one of his ankles on top of the opposite thigh.

You didn't know how to respond or if you even could with the growing knot in your throat. His eyes surprisingly looked upon you gently, not the sharp angry gaze you expected to see.

"I - I didn't mean to pry," you managed to blurt out, shame causing your body to radiate with heat. "I'm sorry."

A scoff left his lips, "I'm the one that should be sorry. I didn't mean to pry either, I just - had to know more."

"About me?" you inquired, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

Spencer threw his head back and inhaled deeply before responding, "Yes. I guess I thought that going this avenue would keep it more professional than... personal."

"Personal?" you spouted another question since your brain could hardly compute the situation.

"I really enjoyed meeting with you the other day and...I guess I just wanted to learn more about you outside of academics," Spencer mumbled.

"Like as a friend?" you asked, attempting to clarify his motivations.

His tone suddenly jumped with alarming certainty as he responded, "Yes, yes! Like friendship."

The tension that was previously between the two of you had shifted to an uncertain resolve, but it was settled enough to feel less on edge and continue the session. Despite feeling less tense, you had to admit you were slightly disappointed that he didn't seem to have felt the same shock to the system that you did when you were so close just a few days earlier. As you studied techniques, common personality types of offenders, and assessed your interview transcript, you attempted to forget that feeling you had experienced and accept Spencer's offer of friendship - but he kept getting in the way.

He would use his long fingers to scan down sentence by sentence and would frequently bite down softly on his bottom lip when considering how to word certain critiques. Strands of Spencer's hair would fall in front of his glasses and you were so tempted to tuck it back behind his ears like he always had it. About halfway through the session, he rolled up the sleeves of his light blue horizontal striped shirt up to his elbows. You never thought that the mere exposure of someone's forearms could make you speechless, but his soft skin and slightly protruding veins did you in.

As you struggled to concentrate, you started to notice the silence. Spencer hadn't gone on any tangents, in fact he seemed not to say much more than what he had to... and surprisingly, you kind of missed it.

Before you could even think about the words leaving your lips, they fell out. "Could you - tell me more?"

"About predictors of criminal behavior?" Spencer perked up at the suggestion, continuing without a prompt. "Well, one of the most well known indicators of future criminal behavior is a diagnosis of a disruptive behavior disorder at a young age or antisocial personality disorder in young adulthood..." As he rambled on, he reached for a large academic book before leaning closer towards you as he flipped through the pages. Spencer continued to switch between verbatim recitation of text and numerous statistics. You couldn't help but stare at him, completely taken by his excess of knowledge and the way that the most elaborative words rolled of his tongue like they were the most common lay terms.

Spencer closed the book tight and locked eyes with your obvious gaze of adoration and he smirked. "Was that what you wanted?"

"Mhm - I mean, yes. Thank you," you said quietly, trying to ignore the heat radiating beneath your skin.

"I think this may be a good stopping point for this session," Spencer states, rising to stand in front of where you were still seated. "I'll see you in class on Monday, and how about another meeting afterwards?"

"Back here?" you ask, with hope he'll say yes.

He nods in agreement, with a tone slightly more suggestive than you expected. "Yes, back here. If that's alright with you."

"More than alright, that sounds perfect," you say as you gather your belongings before standing up to where the bodies were nearly touching. The tension was back again, but it wasn't that of uncertainty - rather of expectation.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Much unlike the week before, the following Monday's lecture was filled with your eyes meeting more often than they should. That may be attributed to the fact that you purposefully chose to wear another outfit that you hoped would grab his attention, making sure to provide plenty of layers so his concern about your body temperature didn’t get in the way. You opted to wear a heavier top than before, specially the most cozy, drop shoulder, cream sweater. You had an extra layer of warm on top with a bulky faux fur lined jacket and your bottom half covered with dark tights and an addition layer of a neutral brown thigh high stockings to accompany your loafers. The skirt you had selected was what you were beating real money on, though: a deep brown houndstooth print mini skirt. On top of it all, you decided to test out your rarely-worn-but-desperately-needed prescription glasses with a thin gold wire frame.

You weren’t able to pinpoint which part caught his attention most, but every time that Spencer would turn to speak to your side of the class and catch a glimpse of you, he began to uncharacteristically fumble over his words. When you bit the tip of your pencil to contain your laughter, it seemed to make his reaction even more unhinged.

As your cohort members shuffled out of the room to head to their inevitable hours of reading, Spencer followed, presumably to prepare himself better than your last encounter… or at least hide whatever sensitive information he had lying about.

When you arrived at his office, you suspicions were confirmed. Spencer had speed organized what he could within his office and certainly made sure to shut and lock all his desk drawers. He was sitting in his office chair with his lanky legs propped up on the corner of the desk, openly flipping through your file which was propped up in his lap.

“I thought you said you could just ask,” you teased, swinging your book bag into the spare chair.

Spencer shrugged and provided a sarcastic response, “But this is so much easier! Y/l/n, y/n: full ride scholarship for your undergraduate education, numerous scholarships and research grants, and absolutely glowing letters of recommendation from some of the leading members in the field of psychology. Impressive.”

“Yeah, none of that seems like something a friend would be interested in knowing unless they were some secret job interviewer,” you roll your eyes and snatch the file from his hand before dropping it on his desk. “What kind of information are you even trying to find? Because unless it’s academic, this file won’t get you anywhere.”

“That’s not exactly true, there is a section on your extracurricular activities,” Spencer responded adamantly.

You flash him an expression of exasperation before bending over to grab your materials from your backpack. When you did so, you heard a faint hitch in Spencer's breathing. As you turned back around, he still hadn't closed his mouth from gaping slightly and his eyes were still focused on your body.

You didn't know what to say, so you just asked, "Are you alright?"

That broke his trance and he came to the other side of his desk and suddenly put his hand on your waist, closing the space between you for the first time. You couldn't help but look up at him with wide and confused eyes.

"I want to know everything about you, y/n - what your favorite color is and what makes you tick, what makes this interview so hard for you, what you wear to sleep at night, how you feel... how you taste..." Spencer spoke lowly, his voice trailing off at the end.

The warmth of his body against yours and the words that he said left you dumbfounded, barely able to mutter, "T-that's a lot more than a friend would know."

"I know," he sighed, before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I lied."

Chills went down your neck and you felt a simultaneous sense of relief and need permeate your entire body. You were afraid he hadn't noticed you the way that you had him, but apparently you had been very wrong. "Why - why didn't you just say that?"

"I privilege myself on being controlled... professional, but I just can't stand it anymore - not while you look so good in that skirt and you keep staring at me during class... biting that pencil, god."

"You stared first," you insist, but you are cut off by his massive hand on the side of your face pulling you to a passionate kiss.

"Shut up," Spencer says, pulling away breathlessly.

You tug him back down to your level by his tie and press your lips against his with even more force. Spencer's lips are incredibly soft and as they eventually part to involve his tongue in your kiss, a small moan falls from them. That sound was like music to your ears, motivating skillful and calculated movements from both of you. You ran your fingers through his luscious brown waves and latched on firmly, tugging to emit another faint groan. With that, his hand moved from your waist and down to your ass, gripping it firmly and massaging it in his hands.

"I think we'll have to reschedule your study session," he mumbled breathlessly before hoisting you up onto the clear edge of the desk and planting wet kisses along your neck. "We'll be a little preoccupied today."

You whimpered softly at the intoxicating feeling of Spencer gently sucking on the most tender parts of you neck. "I-I agree, Dr. Reid."

He hums against your neck and it reverberates down your spine, making your entire body more sensitive and a well of warmth grow in between your legs.

"The first time you came into lecture, you were wearing a skirt almost as short as this w-with your hair pulled back and these perfect pink lips. I wanted to j-jump you right then," he said pulling away from you for a moment, causing you to groan in disappointment at the lack of his touch. "Then you came into the cafe and I could've looked at you for ages if you hadn't been shivering. God, then you opened your mouth and the more you talked the less I could concentrate..."

You had a feeling he'd continue to go on and on if you didn't stop him, so you cut him off. "So, that's why you were acting so odd when you dropped me off."

"I was afraid I'd kiss you when we both reached for your bag, and then I knew I had to drive away quickly or else I'd try to convince you to let me come upstairs."

"Maybe I would've let you," you purred in his ear before lightly bringing his earlobe between your teeth. "And what would we have done?"

"I - I...," for the first time since you've known him, he could barely form words. "I would have touched you."

"How?" you inquire, smirking against his skin as you loosened his tie.

Spencer slowly untucked your sweater from your skirt and ran his cool hands up along your torso and up to cup your tender breasts. As he felt them full in the palm of his hand, Spencer couldn't help but mutter a few curse words under his breath. "L-like this."

You continued to work his tie off and unbutton his shirt as he shut his eyes in pleasure. "And where would I have touched you?" you ask, running your hands down to open his shirt, revealing soft skin and slightly defined abs.

Spencer took his free hand to guide one of yours down to the bulge that his black dress pants were concealing.

"Here," a moan huffed from his mouth, followed by a desperate "yes".

Spencer's IQ of 187 had reverted back to a brain filled with nothing but desire and his body full of the same aching need as yours, which became apparent as he rushed to lock his office door before stripping your sweater off. All he could do was stare down at your chest, now scattered with goosebumps and barely contained by your bra. Spencer was able to unclasp it in a less than a second and as you slouched it off the sudden temperature shift caused your nipples to become hard. He looked between your face and your breasts for a few moments, mouth gaping in disbelief before he enveloped one with his hand and the other with his mouth. Spencer swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud and twirled the other between his thumb and index finger, looking up at you with contentment in his golden brown eyes. The wetness between your thighs grew and the throbbing of want became excruciating.

Before you could consciously gather the words, they escaped you, “I need you, Spencer.”

“God, say my name again. Please,” he begged, kissing your rib cage.

You worked down your skirt and tights, kicking off your shoes as you went, leaving you standing before him in nothing but a pair of cheeky black panties. “Please, Spencer. Touch me here.”

He brought you in for a forceful kiss before dropping to his knees and bringing two fingers to press against the outside of your underwear. When he brought them back away, they were glistening lightly.

“I’m going to do more than touch you,” he growls, hooking his fingers on either side of your panties and pulling them down in one stride. “I’m going to taste you.”

Pushing you back onto his desk, Spencer pried open your legs to reveal the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Your pussy was already slick with wetness and your clit was swollen with need. He had the perfect view of it, your tits, and every facial expression you would make. Throwing your legs around his shoulders, he licked a stripe up your slit causing your toes to curl. He lapped at it skillfully and placed kisses along the lips before wrapping them around your throbbing clit and sucking softly. You couldn’t help but grab onto the desk edge and wrap your other hand through his hair in an attempt to contain your cries. Spencer soon brought two of his fingers to join, pumping in and out of you as he put his focus on your bundle of nerves.

“S-Spencer, if you keep going like this I’ll cum,” you whimper desperately.

He shook his head while still putting in the work. “No, no, y/n. The only place you’ll be coming tonight is on my cock.”

That nearly sent you over the edge, but he pulled away just before you hit your peak. You whined at the loss of contact, but quickly sat up to help him undo his belt and strip him of his black slacks. His heather gray boxer briefs were tented in the middle, barely containing his erection. You caught yourself licking your lips as you reached to stroke it gently before tugging down his underwear. When he sprung up in all his fullness, an audible gasp slipped from your mouth. You had considered what he looked like shirtless and maybe the fleeting thought of him naked, but you had never thought about how big he might be. Despite this, you had to admit that you were pleasantly surprised. Spencer's cock was long and hit just above his navel and he was girthy enough you were nervous that he may not fit, but you sure wanted to give it a try.

"How do you want me, Dr. Reid?" you query, looking up at him with suggestive eyes.

A low rumble came from Spencer's throat and he wrapped his arm around you to flip you over his wooden desk. A large hand squeezed your ass before parting to expose your core.

"Mmm, so wet for me," he grinned, rubbing the tip in between your folds.

The feeling was euphoric already and he hadn't even entered you yet. There wasn't anything on your mind except the overwhelming need for him and the fact that every touch felt like electricity.

"Please, more," you cry softly, looking back at him desperately and spreading your legs wider.

"Fuck - of course, angel. Anything you want," Spencer said fervently, slipping a new nickname for you just as smoothly as he entered you.

Inch by inch your walls stretched for him in a painful bliss that had your hands intertwined with his and hushed moans of passion filling the air surrounding you. By the time he bottomed out, your eyes were tearful and he had reached the crest of your cervix. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, like someone was formed to fit into you perfectly and you never wanted him to leave. You both sat still for a moment, adjusting to the pressure, but Spencer gave the first stroke and you both crumbled.

The first few pumps were cautious, but they quickly devolved into uncontrolled sloppy thrusts. He threaded his lengthy fingers through your hair and lifted you up by it just enough that your head was off the desk. The rhythm he had taken on was perfect and the sensation of his thighs slapping against yours made it vibrate through your body. Uncharacteristic cuss words drabbled from his mouth and primal whimpers for more flowed from yours. He was hitting every spot just right, not slamming into your cervix but tapping it just enough that you felt it in your stomach.

"Rub your clit, angel," Spencer demanded. "I-I don't have enough hands, please. I want you to feel good."

"I feel more than good already, but -," you reached down between your legs and began to rub your clit in figure eights, causing your words to trail off into meaningless mumbles.

His pace became steady as he found a spot that he realized made your toes curl. The combination of the hair pulling, perfect placement, and clitoral stimulation you found yourself quickly back on the edge of a climax. Pressure built in your abdomen and your leg muscles began to tense up. Apparently, he felt it, too, as your walls contracted around him causing him to moan your name breathlessly.

"Spence, I - I'm going to cum," you whimper, your finger movements becoming more rapid.

"Y/n, I'm begging - please cum on my cock," Spencer cried, the sense of desperation in his voice real and adamant. "Please please please,"

His begs motivated your climax to roll through you, causing your fingertips to become soaked and your cum to coat his cock along with your wetness. "S-Spence, baby - I want your cum inside me."

He thrusted into you deeply and a guttural groan escaped him. "Fuck, angel. Are you sure?"

With what little strength you had left you nodded vehemently, "I-I'm on the pill, I never miss a day. Please, sir."

You believe the "sir" is what did him in, slamming into you only four more times before coming undone. The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you and his cum filling you completely was one that admittedly made you feel feral and powerful. The noises that escaped him were irrepressible and the grip he had on your ass was as well. Even after he was finished, he held on tightly for a few seconds before slowly pulling out... but you still felt so full of him.

"You know," Spencer said. "I'm not really the make love and leave kind of guy."

"So is that what we did - make love?" you approach him and press a small teasing peck on his lips.

He smirks down at you, "You know that wasn't just some regular fuck."

"Mmm," you hummed. "Now, that is very true. So, what are you suggesting?"

"Would you want to come back to my place and... spend the night?" he suggests, a tone of shyness in his voice.

You don't even consider the alternative before agreeing and wrapping your arms around his neck for a long kiss.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"You know," Spencer starts, handing you a mug full of chamomile tea. "It's a real shame I won't get to grade your papers anymore. I always enjoyed reading your perspectives."

You sip on the cup and prop yourself up on a pillow. "Well, maybe if you're lucky I'll let you proofread them."

Spencer crawls in bed beside you, wrapping his arm around your upper body to pull you closer to him. "I think I might have figured out what was making you so nervous during your interview," he said.

"And what is that?" you inquire.

"Well, self-doubt for one. Even though, like I said before, you know the content like the back of your hand. But I think the main part was the fact that you were being observed."

"You think I'm afraid of Dr. Walters and you," you scoff, sitting the tea on the bedside table.

"Afraid isn't quite the word, intimidated maybe? I mean we don't appear to be the most approachable pair. Walters never shows emotion and is known for being a tough professor, and I'm -," he says before you cut him off.

"Obnoxiously intelligent with nearly three doctorate degrees?"

"Obnoxious?" He scoffs with a sarcastic tone. "Thanks for letting me know how you really feel."

You roll your eyes, "Yes, obnoxious. If you hadn't been so approachable during our first session I would have continued to think that you were a strict academic who didn't know how to let loose and have some fun."

"Ouch!" Spencer clutched at his heart. "Well, I sure proved you wrong today."

"That you did, Spence," you kiss his cheek. "And fine, maybe you're right - most of my nerves were probably tied to the fact that I was intimidated by your very serious demeanors."

"I like it when you call me that." You were surprised he had seemed to ignore the other half of your statement.

"What? Spence?" you ask, cuddling close to his chest.

"Yes," he responds, and you hear his heart skip a beat. "I don't think anyone's ever called me that before."

"No one has ever called me angel before either," you say, drawing a line down the valley of his chest.

"Well, I think you'll do wonderfully on your remediation interview, angel," Spencer states, bringing your hand up to place a kiss upon it.

You snuggle closer, engulfed in his warmth and the scent of spiced vanilla. "I think so, too. I'm way more comfortable with the content... and my assessors."

please feel free to request! (or let me know what you think!)

[spenciegoob]

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours. 

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered. 

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend. 

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years. 

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving. 

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis. 

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever. 

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile. 

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary. 

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you. 

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms. 

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly. 

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move. 

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face. 

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear. 

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work. 

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

__

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Requested by: @onlyhereforthefanfics

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @missyoumaybank @everythingbutnormal

[lockejhaven]

Happy STS Locke!

I've just gotta know, what made you start your Arthurian retelling? Like, why Arthurian myth specifically? (please ramble to me about why it's your fav, I love that shit)

(- from @andromedatalksaboutstuff)

Happy STS!! I will absolutely ramble!

I first discovered the Arthurian tales through The Magic Treehouse series as a kid, and then later, I found it again through the BBC show Merlin.

This show in particular was one of my biggest inspirations, despite its cheesy nature. I find it absolutely inspiring that with the budget they had, they did incredibly well. The actors and writing genuinely carry the show, so much so that I don't even care that the CGI isn't excellent!

I loved the smart-ass personality of Merlin, the humor of the show, and the intricacies of the story; from Arthur's father, to Morgana, to Mordred. Not to mention, I've always adored dragons and magic.

Throughout my life, I've come across so many versions of twisted fairytales. So much so that it inspired me to write my own! The first is actually a WIP based on Alice in Wonderland. My Arthurian retelling came after.

Another big point of inspiration for my retelling is Nanatsu no Taizai, or The Seven Deadly Sins. It was the first time I'd seen Merlin as something other than an old white man with a long gray beard, and I immediately wanted to create my own, entirely unique story.

Other sources of inspiration include the tv show Cursed, the movie King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and The Green Knight with Dev Patel. Doctor Who has also played a part in my works, thanks to the sci-fi twist of many themed episodes.

Merlin is regarded as an integral part of Arthurian legend. I would even argue he is more well-known than Arthur himself. You'll likely find him referenced in any media with witches and wizards, magic and sorcerers. This led to my idea of Merlin being the main character; the 'most important.'

BBCs Merlin went with a similar approach, seeing as he was to help Arthur to his destiny. I liked the idea of him working 'behind the scenes' but I wanted him to have a bigger role. To be much more complicated.

So, Myhren was born.

A non-binary, AFAB, half-dead, dark sorcerer, trapped in a time loop where everything is at least slightly different than what we know. Having a character with a traditionally 'dark' or 'evil' power is one of my favorite tropes to twist around. After all, why not play into the 'magic is evil' idea a little bit more, when it comes to banning magic in Camelot?

I also took inspiration from BBC Merlin with their 'dragon lord' idea. Because, c'mon. Who doesn't love dragons?

--

This ramble is definitely more disorganized than I'd like, but, at least it's an honest and accurate portrayal of my chaotic thought process!

locket's tags:   @365runesofwriting  @enchanted-lightning-aes  @thepixiediaries  @midnights-melodiverse  @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @andromedatalksaboutstuff