#i also can't describe settings. don't ask me to because i can't

[spidybaby]

GQ Couple Interview

Summary: You and your boyfriend got invited to do a GQ interview.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Doing this while I eat dinner 😔 is very short, but I hope you like it ❤️🥺 also I'm working on more than just these. So be patient with me, pleaaaaaseeee ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Madrid Boys x Actress!Reader

Jude

"Just be yourselves, read the questions, and have fun!" The manager of GQ says.

You two nod, you squish Jude's hand. The makeup girl was finishing retouching your powder.

"Done!" She smiles. You give a small thank you.

You sit properly on the chair. You can hear the cameraman count and give you the big. "We are recording." Shout.

You take a look at the questions. "What is my favorite ice cream to eat with your mom's brownies?"

"Oh, you love that German brand with the Cardi B whip cream."

"Ufff, that cream is amazing." You say, feeling the craving of it.

"Now, darlin'" He smirks. "What is my favorite goal that I've ever scored?"

You blink a few times. "Is it the one you scored in the ammm, champion league?"

"Wrong!" He shouts. "It was one that Erling assisted me."

"Never heard of it." You say, making him roll his eyes. "Anyways, what is the name of my character in Euphoria?"

"Rue!" He says happily.

You can't help but look at the camera, it looks like a scene from The Office. He has a smug on his face, proud of his answer.

"That's Zendaya."

"Oh," He says, smug falling from his face. "Damn, Lexy!"

"That's not even close!" You say, laughing.

"Maddie." He names.

"That's Alexa, you know her."

"Fuck, I don't know." He says, still thinking about the name. "Next question."

"What do you mean next questio- fine." You say, grabbing another card. "What is my favorite order when we visit your parents in the UK?"

"Fish and chips with some side of green beans, but also you love the sausage."

"I love a good sausage." You smile at the camera.

You don't say that in a dirty or fun way. You say that because you do love food, and British food was one big thing for you to discover.

"But don't worry, she gets a good one." He says, winking at the camera. "What's my favorite food order?" He asks.

"So this is where Mister Jude." You start, but then paused. "Jude!" You say, looking at him, hitting his arm with the card. "You can't say that."

"What's my favorite book to read?"

"I haven't even answered the first question. His order depends on where we are at. If we are at a steak house, he somehow wants a salad."

"Not true, I love steak."

"And I we are at maybe Olive Garden, during the pre season trip, he wants a big 16 oz steak."

"Told ya! Love steak." He smiles.

"So if you can describe me in three words, what would they be?"

He thinks them, trying to find the best ones.

"Smart!" He smiles at you. "Inspiring and"

You can't help but blush, you love that he finds you inspiring and a smart person.

"That is so cut-"

"She's also fart the lou-"

"DON'T! STOP RECORDING!"

Kylian

"Do we do it in English, Spanish or French?" Kylian asks.

"If it's okay with you, Mister mbappe. Please, in English."

He nods, making the lady walk back to the cameraman to talk to them. She keep looking over at Kylian.

"Monsieur Mbappé, veuillez signer mon maillot. Oui, c'est là qu'est mon sein." You say with sarcasm. (Mister Mbappe, please sign my jersey. Yes, here where my boob is)

He rolls his eyes while laughing. "Don't be jealous." He says, smiling at you. "I'm not looking at anyone when I have you here."

"So when I'm not here. You do look at others?"

"Okay, time for questions." He says, calling the attention of the set. "Cause you are getting out of hand." He says, joking with you.

You roll your eyes, laughing at him. You know he knows you are joking and you love how he jokes back.

"Okay, here are your questions." The lady says to you. "And Mister Mbappe, here are yours." She smiles at him.

You look over at him, wanting to roll your eyes. "Okay, thank you." He says. "Ready, amour?" He asks.

They let you know that you are being filmed and to start with the questions.

You check the questions before making one. "Oh, what was the name of my pet hamster?"

Kylian frowns. "The one who died pooping?"

You look at the camera. "He was a saint." You say, pouting at the thought of him.

"Chili?" He says, more like asking. "Wait no, Paco?"

"Paco is my sister's dog!" You say, laughing at him.

"Fuck!" He says, thinking harder. "Was it Harry? Like Harry Styles?"

"Yes! My sweet creature!" You smile. "I love Harry Styles, fun fact about me by the way."

"My turn," He smiles. "What's my movie?"

"Easy, you love The Great Gatsby." You smile.

He shakes his head. "Noup."

"Ammm, the teenage mutant ninja turtles?" You ask, joking.

"Hahaha." He faked laughed, then making the most fake angry face. "You are so funny."

"Okay, next question." You ignore him. "Who is my favorite parent?"

"But my movie!" He shouts. "Also, none, you have beef with everybody." He side eye you.

"I do not." You say, frowning. "Oh, I remember, your favorite movie is that one with tom cruise, the one where he flies planes."

"Oui!" He smiles. "Also you favorite parent is your mom." He smiles.

You roll your eyes at him, "what is my f-"

"Hey, my turn!" He says, pouting. "Do you know my favorite goal?"

You think for a while. "Maybe the one against Barcelona, when you were in PSG?" You ask.

"Yep." He nods, waiting for you to look away, then he shakes his head no to the camera. "What is the name of my mother?"

"Fayza Lamari." You say in a very obvious tone. "Love her. Even more than her son."

He looks at you, going from a smile to a frown. "Rude." He says.

"Okay, fun fact about Kylian." You announce. "He's a sucker for praising."

"Tu n'es pas censé dire ça." (You were not supposed to say that)

You look at him, sensing him a kiss. "Je t'aime."

"What type of pasta is my favorite?"

You think, he really loves pasta. "Carbonara." You say, thinking about that being the only one he asks you to prepare. "If you say no, I'll know you are lying."

"It's..." He does this pause. "True." He smiles.

"I knew it, bébé." You smile. You read the next question. "If you can say one of my characters is your favorite, which one?"

He thinks for a moment, trying to order his ideas of which one of the roles you have played is his favorite.

"Maybe when you did marvel." He smiles. "Love that movie."

"I know you love that one!" You smile, getting up to hug him. "Fun fact about Kylian." You say again.

"Okay, we are done." He says, covering your face with the cards. "Cut the camera." He says, laughing at you trying to fight him.

Arda

"Are you sure you want me to be on this interview?" He asks, worrying that he might not be welcomed.

"Babe, of course." You laugh, grabbing his hand. "We are in this together." You smile.

"Are you quoting high school musical again?"

"Love doing that." You smile. "Okay, we are ready!"

"Okay, everybody. We are starting in three, two, one." The director yells, giving you the signal to start.

"Hi everybody, I'm Y/n."

"And I'm Arda."

Brahim

"And we are doing the GQ Couples Interview." You both say, smiling at the camera.

"You start." You say, grabbing his hand and giving his hand a squish.

"What is the name of my childhood dog?" He asks, reading the card. "Wait, I don't have a childhood dog."

"He doesn't." You shake your head. "But I did. What was his name?"

"Chipotle?"

"Chili." You smile.

"What was my dream job as a child?" He asks.

"He wanted to be a bread man." You smile, trying not to chuckle. "Like the one of Shrek, the cookie guy."

"I love bread and cookies, so I wanted to be a bread guy, like a huge piece of bread." He laughs.

"If I was in a desert island, what are three things I would take with me?"

You think for a while, Arda is someone simple, he's not into materialistic stuffs.

"A football ball, your favorite pillow, and me because I want to swim while you play with the ball."

"I mean, it says things, and you are not a thing." He replies, smiling shyly at you.

"I know, baby." You whisper, reassuring him. "Name three of the characters I have done."

"I like when you did that Disney princess movie," he says, not knowing what the name is.

"It wasn't a Disney princess, baby. I was in Barbie." You laugh at him being so confused.

"Oh, shoot." He laughs too. "It's true, she spent days, weeks even saying < Hi, barbie! >"

"Hi, Barbie!" You say in that tone everybody used at the Barbie set. "Okay, name the rest. You still have three because Miss Disney princess is not right."

"Barbie," He smiles to the camera, knowing he has that one right. "The one in La Casa de Papel, and the one in Youth."

"Can you at least name one?"

"I just did, Barbie!"

But that's not-"

"Goodbye, Barbie." He says, waving at the camera.

"But we are not done."

"He said three questions." He points to the calera man. "Plus, we have Taco Bell in the dressing room."

"Joder, maybe a break!" You say, hearing your stomach growl.

"What's my favorite cookie?" He asks, after a few warming up questions.

"That's not even a question, Brahim."

"You see this?" He asks the camera. "This is why I always say that you need to protect your hearts."

"It's the matcha one from that Chinese Restaurant, God damn." You laugh.

"Now, this is real love, people." He smiles. "Love you, baby."

"Love you too." You smile. "Now, if I was an animal fighting among the avengers, which animal would I be?"

"Who?" He stares confused at the camera. "Did she just made up the question?"

"I need to think." He says, waiting a few minutes before answering. "A crocodile."

"Yes!" You smile. "Love crocos."

"She also loves crocs." He smiles. "We have a matching pair."

"Now, back to the normal questions." You chuckle the questions. "Tell me the name of my favorite movie I was in?"

He looks at the camera, confused, looking like a The Office episode. "The marvels?"

"Wrong, it's was Neighbors."

"Tell me your favorite trophy I won."

"The Champions, because that day I surprised you when I told you I wasn't coming to the finals, and I did."

"Loved that," He smiles, getting closer to you, kissing your lips. "Now, who do I think would be the perfect 11 on a team."

"Qué caraj-"

"Amor, language."

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[ttngummybear]

The next time I go to try and ask for tech support from the revanced team, someone PLEASE just slap me so I don't do it.

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

[prokopetz]

"But doesn't having a notion of 'balanced' combat inherently imply that all combat encounters are expected to be fair and winnable" well, no – it implies only that the GM has the ability to know whether a given combat encounter is fair and winnable.

There's a story that's been going around for decades about a Dungeons & Dragons party who encountered a large room full of treasure while exploring a dungeon. Immediately suspicious, they asked their GM a series of detailed questions about the room, but no obvious dangers were identified. Satisfied, they moved into the room – and were immediately set upon and eaten by the dragon that had been sitting atop the pile of treasure the whole time, which the GM hadn't mentioned because the players never specifically asked about the presence of living creatures within the room.

While this is obviously an extreme and ridiculous case, it illustrates an important point: as GM, you're the group's eyes and ears. If you don't describe something, the player characters literally can't see it – that dragon was effectively invisible from their perspective. The trick is that active malice isn't the only way to invisible-dragon your players; a group can also find themselves invisible-dragoned because the GM simply failed to provide sufficient information for the risk in question to be identified. This can happen through neglect, but it can also happen because the GM themself was unaware that the risk was present.

Now, hold on, you might be saying: the GM "plays" the entire world. How is it possible for the GM not to know that a risk is present? Well, that brings us back around to the subject of combat balance.

A game in which "balanced" combat is a meaningful thing to discuss is typically going to be one in which both the players and the GM are actually making strategic, tactical, and/or logistical decisions, rather than merely producing a description of their characters making such decisions. Without a good handle on the interplay of these decisions, it's completely possible for the GM to be wrong about the level of risk the scenario they've constructed entails.

That's actually pretty critical, because even if you don't care about the game being fair and winnable (and that's a perfectly valid stance), your players are still depending on you to be their eyes and ears, and to give them enough information to make good decisions about whether the fight in front of them is one they can win. A game where not every fight is expected to be winnable needs to be a game where the players have the opportunity to walk away.

No matter how objective you try to be, your own sense of the answer to that question is inevitably going to colour how you communicate about it. You being wrong about the level of risk at hand inherently increases the chance that your players will make bad choices. The party eating a TPK because they made a stupid decision is one thing; the party eating a TPK because they made a decision that looked reasonable from their perspective based on your unwitting miscommunication of the level of risk involved is quite another!

Sure, once the dice hit the table I'm probably going to realise that I fucked up, and I can adjust things on the fly to bring the level of risk that's actually present in line with the level of risk I communicated – but that's extra work I don't need with everything else that's on my plate. And that's a best-case scenario; if I'm running the game for a hardcore let-the-dice-fall-where-they-may group (and such groups tend to have a pretty significant overlap with groups that are cool with not every fight being winnable), I may not be able to adjust the fight's parameters on the fly without violating the social contract of the table.

Basically, whenever I see an OSR game with tactically crunchy combat brag about how its author never even thinks about "balance", what that's telling me is that running this game is going to create a whole lot of extra work for me as a GM. This is not a selling point.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Babylon The Great Series Masterlist

Read on A03! - Listen to the Playlist!

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, severe mental health issues, self-harm and suicidal ideation, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, eventual happy ending.

Series Summary

There's something wrong with you that's not wrong with other people. You're a hunter, and a damn good one, but you might be a monster.

There might be something in you that needs to be put down. Something broken that can't be fixed.

It's why you've had one rule your whole life. The only thing your father has ever made clear is that, no matter what, you need to stay away from John Winchester. He can't even know you exist, or he'll kill you and never blink.

And when your paths cross a hunt, you should've run, but you didn't. You couldn't. Because you looked at Dean Winchester, and something changed inside of you. Something called you to him, and you can't figure out what it was, but you know it's strong. And you know that, whatever Dean's doing to you, you don't really care to fight it. Things are broken in you, just as much is broken in him, and you fit perfectly together in a way you'll never be able to describe.

But it's more complicated than that, though. The world pulls you and Dean apart again and again.

And you find your way back, again and again.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant rewrite, but primarily plot wise. Think of it as we're cooking with all the same ingredients (i.e lore, characters, setting, and backstory) but with one change (you) that gets us to a drastically different ending.

What the means is that there will be a lot of similar plot points to Supernatural, but the further we go through the story the more it will diverge. I've also take some creative labor with the reader, adding lore that's defiantly not a part of canon, but crucial to this story.

If you have any questions about this, feel free to ask! If not, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - In My Brain and In My Blood Chapter 2 - Under My Skin Chapter 3 - I Get A Little Dizzy Chapter 4 - You Bleed Like Me Chapter 5 - If You Let Me Chapter 6 - All The Noise Chapter 7 - Something I Can See Chapter 8 - Keep Us Far Apart Chapter 9 - Does The Feeling Haunt You Chapter 10 - Look and See Chapter 11 - You Might Drown Chapter 12 - Watch You Work The Room Chapter 13 - You'll Have to Believe It Chapter 14 - Water Is Forever Chapter 15 - Before It Falls Apart Chapter 16 - Try to Catch It Chapter 17 - You Come Back Chapter 18 - You Can Start to Make It Better Chapter 19 - That's Nothing New Chapter 20 - Wait for Me (5/8)

Pslams (In-Series Bonus Chapters)

Can You Hear Me - You sit on the roof of your car. Takes place a month after Chapter 15.

[coffeepaintwater]

shen yuan, luo binghe and shen jiu the most explosive trio to ever trio i fear (there are two duos in these trio and hint hint both of them feature sy lol)

also this is basically fanart for Shen Yuan of No Relation on ao3 by Gemi bc i'm binge reading/listening to it and it's so good!!! the characterisation is so on point it dragged me back into the svsss fandom by my hair. the character study tag 100% deserves its' place there.

notes, bc how could there not be??:

i saw a post that said that any svsss fanwork's inaccuracy to history can be attributed to airplane's lazy pidw world-building and. yeah. basically.

i was thinking what would the disciple robes look like to both seem regal to the commoners (as described in 99% xianxia novels) and good to train in and i realized that there shouldn't probably be more than two layers anyways because it isn't even really accurate. also, i like the interpretation that each disciple has a subtly different uniform, but i just can't picture how that would work???? 100% the rich kids and older disciples who can actually earn some money would add accesories to their robes, but for shen yuan and luo binghe, i just couldn't imagine where they'd get anything like that, besides the hair pins ning yingying made/gave them (sry if i mix some shit up, i've read 20 chapters in 2 days okey have mercy). plus, with a world that focuses on social standing as much as pidw/svsss does, i think that the sects would naturally aim to recreate that hierarchy in their own society.

with the example of cang qiong mountain, yue qingyuan would have the highest rank, and (as syonr showed!!!) probably boast the biggest estate on the peak, inheriting all the wealth the previous sect leaders had accumulated. and while from what i understand, being a sect-affilated cultivator means your payment is basically getting fed, clothed and having a roof over your head in the sect instead of idk, coin, yue qingyuan would still have monetary means because of, surprise surprise, inheriting it. so, clothes just on the better side from the other peak lords perhaps

next in the food chain would be the other peak lords, except that we see that even the peaks have different 'rankings'. so, while on the outside each peak lord carries the same authority, shen jiu would have been able to be as he was in canon (MASSIVE side eye btw) and no one would have been really in a place to kick him in the gut and say he was a fucking asshole, for example, besides yue qingyuan. that is, from a purely theoretical stand-point, bc all hierarchical order is sometimes broken but that's besides the pointttt. the point is, they would have freedom to dress however they wish and while i believe the disciple robes remain unchanged since the founding of the sect (bc svsss universe is implied to be a largely unadvancing society, regarding anything besides cultivation), the peak lords most likely don't have one set uniform, besides each peak being color-coded apparently??

there was a post i was inspired by (https://www.tumblr.com/svsssfanonarchive/736782613008809984?source=share) that confirmed that the peaks (or at least three of them, but we don't get much of the others anyways) do in fact have the disciples wear robes of one color. qing jing favors greens and teals (see the post for more details pls pls pls it's so good) BUT i love adding white to my art bc i feel like a fabric this vibrant and light would fit the scholars there. also, white seems like the furthest one could get from the gutter to me, bc while it is the color of mourning, it's also the color of purity and shen jiu would take the chance to put one more barrier between shen qingqiu the peak lord and shen jiu the slave. don't ask why i put shen yuan in better robes; there's no reason other to make him more like a mini shen qingqiu lol

the head disciples could probably get modified uniforms or a layer more, to make them really stand out. and i'm not touching on the hall masters and senior disciples bc NOPE. not my problem for now

last thing, fu yue my love, my beauty, my life force, WHICH CHARACTER ARE WE TALKING ABOUT FOR FU?????? i decided on these ones bc there were the closest i could get to the meaning Gemi intended but :(( i have a gut feeling the first character is wronggg

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I'm sorry if this isn't the place to ask, but I'm kind of going through a bit of a hard time right now, I'm around 17 and I've somehow gotten every fucking paraphillia that gets you the straight to jail for even having stuff about it treatment (zoophilia, necrophilia, pedophilia) and I feel fucking awful about it, like I tend to keep a pretty strict moral code when it comes to this stuff, and I don't want to act on any of these urges when it comes to this, and I know I'm not going to.

yet I keep feeling this dread that I'll rape someone, kill someone and I don't know what to do, I don't want to be a monster but it feels like no matter what I do or say there's always going to be a part keeping me from ever actually being a person.

it feels like I have committed a crime, not one now, nor in the past, but on in potential, by even having the thought to do anything regarding these, it feels inevitable, like I'm going to do something whether I like it or not and I have to constantly be on high alert 24/7 lest I have the chance to even let my mind wander to far.

I don't know, I should be feeling ok with how my mind works, I know that what I'm in to doesn't define how I act, that I won't actually do it, just even then it feels like I'm set up for failure, you know? that my life is something that no matter what I do, or say or become, it will always have that stain that prevents me from deserving life.

ps. if this isn't anonymous, please don't post it off anon.

hi anon,

okay. deep breath. let's have a little sip of juice or something.

so, right out of the gate: you're not a criminal. thinking things isn't a crime. being horny isn't a crime. liking something that's kind of yucky isn't a crime.

also, hey, addition concept, because I have to say it: doing something that is classified as a "crime" is not what makes you a bad person. completely consensual gay sex is illegal in many places. collecting rainwater is illegal in many places. hell, in a great deal of places it's illegal to just lay down in a park and take a nap, even if you don't have anywhere else to sleep. what the fuck is up with that. just because something is illegal doesn't mean that people who do it aren't people or that there's something fucked up and wrong with them. let alone thinking about it!

okay, back to your main thing. listen. raping and killing someone doesn't just happen by accident. you have to work pretty hard to kill someone. like, there's a pretty significant string of active choices that have to happen there. (unless there's a freak accident, but oops - that's an accident! not something you did on purpose! different thing!) all of the stuff you're describing being into is stuff that you'd definitely have to Make A Choice to actually do - you're not just gonna fuck a horse or a dead body by accident, dude. where do you even find a dead body? there are SO MANY STEPS between you and fucking a dead guy at any given time.

and re: the pedophilia - listen, I get it. the thought of hurting a kid by accident is horrifying, right? but you can't accidentally molest someone. molestation and sexual abuse are activities that requite intentional behavior. the choice to abuse a child is a CHOICE, not something that happens on a whim. the only way that happens is if you're prone to, say, blacking out and behaving abusively, which, okay, that's a problem! but it's a problem because that's something that you need help with and in that scenario you also deserve care, dude.

there's nothing wrong with you; you're just into some stuff that freaks you out. hot tip: actively dwelling on how gross and fucked up and evil this stuff is isn't going to help you feel any more healthy or normal about it. you've got to practice just letting these thoughts happen and noticing them without recoiling from them or beating yourself up about it, like you would with anything else. "the sky's blue today. I want a latte. might be kind of hot to fuck an ostrich. need to pick up cat food. oh, shit, gotta answer that message." just let it slide on by without taking up all the real estate.

you're fine, you're not a criminal or a failure or stained or whatever. you're just a person who's a little stressed. be well and, per some gentle suggestions in the replies, maybe consider looking into the possibility that you may have OCD.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #9

"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.

"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.

The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.

Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.

As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.

"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.

"I lied," the man says lightly.

"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."

"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.

"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."

"Jon--"

"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."

The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."

Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.

"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."

"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."

"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.

"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"

Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."

"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."

Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."

"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.

"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"

"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"

Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"

J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.

"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."

"Jon," The man says.

"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."

"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.

"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"

"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."

Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"

"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."

"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"

"You can't."

"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"

"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"

"I wouldn't,"

"You belong with your family,"

"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"

"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."

"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."

J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.

"You don't mean that," the man is saying.

"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."

The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."

"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.

"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."

"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.

"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."

"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.

J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.

"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.

"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.

"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."

"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.

"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.

The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"

"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.

"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."

"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.

"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."

"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."

"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."

The others are silent.

"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."

J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.

This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.

"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.

"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.

You will say nothing.

"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.

J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.

You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.

Part Two

[otrtbs]

saw a post recently describing the marauder’s era fandom as ‘the worst mass delusion since the dancing plague’ and i was wondering what u think of all that? i don’t think we give jkr more traction which is what the post accused us of so i was just wondering your take is. i saw so many ppl agree with it and i was so confused (i realise u prob won’t answer this publicly but i’m too scared to ask off anon and i’m sorry for polluting ur ask box with this sort of negativity) love ahb! it changed my life

hi!! you caught me at a time when i had my computer handy so we're gonna have a little chat. you are NOT polluting my inbox and i think that these are important conversations to be had, so i'm gonna do my best to articulate my thoughts under the cut <3

i haven't seen the post so i can't really get into the thick of what that person was saying, but based on the context you've provided me here, i do wanna hit a few points.

i definitely grapple with the fact that my participation in this fandom can/could/and does lead to more traction (increased relevance/visibility/revenue) for jkr inadvertently. i think that the very nature of being in this fandom, in whatever capacity, but especially for me as a fic writer, means that i cannot sever myself entirely from her views and actions and act as if i am operating in a sphere completely free from her influence and traction.

i can make my stance clear. i can denounce jkr and her views, i can take actions to counteract the harmful rhetoric and real violence she seeks to enact on the trans and other marginalized communities. i can use the power of my dollar to ensure that she never sees a single cent from me. not from merch sales, or theme park visits, or new book editions, or lego sets.

but, at the end of the day, i can't agree with the sentiment that "we don't give jkr more traction" because we do. and i see it happening all the time. people in the marauders fandom still go to the studios, still buy official merch, still give her money. and the part where i struggle a lot....is in the way that fics and fic reading has become more promotional in content w the rise of tiktok fandom spaces. which, inevitably, may (and does) encourage people who once liked harry potter to re-enter the fandom in a new capacity. and i can't control what they do and how they spend their money and where they go etc. all i can do is make my stance clear, and put my money where my mouth is.

but i am always aware of it. that i have a harry potter fic out there and it's an easy read and an au so not hard to get behind if you're new to the fandom. i'm not out here recruiting people into this space, but sometimes, with tweets and tiktok posts that anyone can view, i know that it happens. and if someone stumbles across my fic and gets into the marauders and decides to watch the marauders reboot??? that's not something i can control. but it IS something i think about. a lot. all the little ways that being in this fandom can lead to more jkr traction.

i would love to be like "no! fuck jkr and i wash my hands of it,,, i'm not giving her traction." but i think that would be disingenuous and superficial. just because *I* am not giving her money doesn't mean that the collective *we* aren't. because *we* are. and my fics may help that along in minute but unignorable ways. i do my best to mitigate and counteract the potential harm, i'm starting to add notes in my fics and on my navigation asking ppl to keep comments/thoughts/opinions in my tumblr ask box and ao3 comments only and off twt/tiktok/ect but i also cannot confidently say that my presence in fandom doesn't provide jkr any traction. i was talking to a friend abt similar topics a while ago (s/o rae) and they were like "in an ideal world harry potter fandom would be like a closed practice and die out eventually" and yeah. exactly. but as it stands today, it's not a closed practice, and i think it's important to be mindful always of the impact you're creating. i don't think most if any of us here sit down to "promote" harry potter or the marauders but obviously, with the reboot that's happening, there is some influence happening there.

i love writing in this space, i love writing in this fandom. i love this little corner of the internet that we've carved out, i love the friends i've made in it. the stories that are being created in this space are kinder and more diverse and more reflective than the source material, and the fandom has brought me and many others a lot of really great experiences. but that contradiction (i reject jkr and her politics but i still create fics/art/videos rooted in her works ... or even if you eschew canon and work strictly in au's you're using her characters from the original text) is always there. and there are always going to be ties back to her. and i don't think it negates the value of the stories we're telling, but i also don't think it's something we can just ignore and pretend to be be innocent/ignorant of either.

okay this was so long and rambly but those are my thoughts. i think the topic is messy to grapple w for me <- girl who is horrendous at being articulate but hopefully this lays it out somewhat?? <3 kk love you never feel bad abt sending me asks like this beloved <33

[tackykachowch]

Silco was set up to be Fishbones from the start

Disclaimer: I won't take season 2 into account At All, because it can't work with setups and payoffs even if its life depends on it.

Alrighty. As we've seen Season 1 paid a lot of attention to set up canon things from LoL into the show as naturally and logically as possible, and at least from my point of view, it handled the job with flying colors. Jayce's hammer, Vi's gauntlets, Vander/Warwick etc, nothing felt out of place. But how does Silco fit into this at all? Let's get down to business to defeat the huns

First of all, what even is Fishbones? In the canon of LoL, it's one of if not the most iconic weapon Jinx has. And it is not only a weapon to her, but a loyal and "beloved" companion, as it's described in one of her skins. She constantly talks to it, and in contrast to her chaotic and impulsive nature, Fishbones is very pragmatic and calm. Sounds like a certain someone, doesn't it? But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

But how does Silco go from being Jinx's father to one of her weapons? There are a lot of points that support that actually, I was surprised myself ngl.

- Silco is the only character in the entire series who is directly and tightly connected to water and underwater creatures. Silco was "reborn" in the water when Vander tried to kill him, the first office he had was placed under the water, with a huge observational window. Silco is also fond of underwater creatures, and while other people call and see them as monsters, Silco pays no attention to it, as he thinks that there's "a monster inside all of us". And here's Fishbones, who is designed after a shark, arguably the most famous "underwater monster". But what is more interesting is that it debuted is the finale of season 1, which is titled "The monster you created". Quite a throughline there.

- Silco was the reason behind Fishbones' creation in the first place. While it does seem that it all started with Jinx, who stole the hex gemstone on the Progress Day, we also need to remember WHY she did it. She did it to impress Silco specifically, to make him to be proud of her. This want was triggered by her screwing up the smuggling mission earlier that day, and while Silco didn't scold her for it much and only advised her to rest for a bit, she saw this as him thinking that she's weak. So, after all of this Silco asks Jinx to make a weapon with the use of gemstone. Not necessarily to use it against Piltover, but to have it as a wild card if his plans go wrong. Jinx agrees and attempts to reverse engineer it, but it triggers her memories when she killed Mylo and Claggor with her bomb, so she tells Silco that she can't do it. He then goes to the river he was nearly killed in with her, and "baptises" her to help her let go of her fear of pain. This seemed to have worked, at least for a little while, because she managed to finish the weapon. So, in conclusion: Fishbones' creation was triggered by Jinx's want to impress Silco, and he helped her with its creation on every step of the way.

- this point is somewhat meta, but I'll use it anyway. In previously mentioned episode 9 Silco tells Jinx that everybody around them betrays them, and they have only each other to love and lean on. He says, quote: "Everyone betrays us, Jinx. Vander, her. It's only us". At the same time, in LoL Jinx says this line to Fishbones: "It's just you and me, Fishbones!". Well.....it's certainly a callback if I've seen one. Like- it's not even funny. They couldn't have written this line on accident.

- now onto the most interesting part for me personally. We all now that there are no accidents in animation, like. At all. Even if there are this is extremely rare, as every frame is created intentionally. Now, we do now that there are quite. A few discrepancies between writers and animators of arcane, but I don't think this applies in this particular case. Now onto the actual point. So, in the finale of season 1 Jinx kills Silco, and it's shown to us like this.

He's turned with right side ("human") of his face to the camera, while the left side ("monster") side is hidden.

As Jinx fires Fishbones at the council

It's positioned with its right side to the camera, which alignes with Silco's "monster eye". Also, Fishbone's eye has a black scar pattern around its eye, which again, resembles Silco's damadged eye. That could mean that Silco is once again "reborn", and now continues to live on in the monster Jinx created.

And here comes the most awesome part in all of this. When Silco adopts Powder, he hugs her and tells her

Do you see how the frame is positioned? Exactly. It is exactly the same framing scene with Jinx and Fishbones has. And, most importantly, when Jinx pulls the trigger, we hear the exactly same line on the background: "We will show them all". It simultaneously shows: that Jinx's attack on the council is her way of dealing with grief of killing Silco; her way of honoring Silco's fight against Piltover; and a direct transition of Silco into Fishbones. Although he's dead in body, but Jinx's memories of him and his voice now continue to live in Fishbones, her new eternal companion.

I am at awe with the fundamental work that's been done with this setup, and although s2 never followed up on this, I still can get enjoyment from the clear intent creators put here originally.

[ataleofcrowns]

Hey! I love AToC and have been following its development for a few years now. But whenever a new chapter was released, and I sat down to read it, I often found it hard to carve out time to do so. So, it got me thinking - if it’s hard for me to read it consistently, how much more difficult must it be to write it consistently? It is admirable the act of writing this takes, And while I’m sure there are slower periods in the whole process, it’s inspirational how you dedicate time to writing. I write sometimes, definitely not a lot, and I want to dabble in a few short stories. So, how do you put in that time or really cultivate that habit of writing - especially when pesky "IRL logistics" get in the way? Are there any specific rituals or routines that help overcome such circumstantial challenges? I’ve been in a bit of a rut with the pen lately, and honestly, hearing anything - whether it’s how you approach sitting down to write or just your thoughts on the process - would be incredibly helpful at best and, at the very least, really interesting to hear! Appreciate you sharing your thoughts if you’re able :p

I take an ice bath, chug 6 cans of energy drink back to back, sit down and white knuckle my desk while yelling "LOCK IN" and write 10k words in one hour-

Ok but seriously, I appreciate the ask!! 💖

And honestly it's just a matter of forming the habit, at least for me. I try to write at the same time every day. For me that's in the evenings since I'm more productive at night, but other people might feel more productive in the morning or the afternoon, it all depends! Once it becomes a habit it's much easier to switch your brain to Writing Mode around the same time every day.

When you first start trying to form the habit, don't be down on yourself if you don't get a lot of writing done at first. Try to write things that pique your interest, even if the scenes or snippets aren't in chronological order. Getting something on the page is what's most important!

Also, don't be too hard on yourself while writing, and try not to edit while you write either. This is a bad habit I used to have that I had to unlearn because of my perfectionism, but it's perfectly fine to have a bare bones first draft that you can return to filling out later. Your first draft is not supposed to be perfect, so just focus on writing it first, and evaluating it later.

And write what you feel inspired to write! Like, sometimes I can't be bothered to write out descriptions or character actions, but I get inspired to write a certain conversation between characters, so I literally skip all the descriptive words and only write out the dialogue. Other times I feel inspired by worldbuilding that I want to add, or an environment that I really want to describe, so I write snippets for that, etc.

I also like setting wordcount goals for myself because I get a dopamine boost when I hit the target and it feels like I accomplished something. If you go that route, start out small! Like 250 words every day for example, and as you get into it, bump it up little by little. It also feels good if you go over your wordcount goal, at least for me.

Some other minor things that have helped me: putting on background music (ymmv), removing all potential distractions by closing everything on my pc and fullscreening my writing program, ensuring I have a place where I can write uninterrupted, drinking my favorite tea, motivating myself with rewards for once I hit my wordcount goal (snacks/video games/watching a show).

I hope any of this is useful for you!!

[xxgoldie]

went to karaoke and someone sang crush by david archuleta so now im thinking abt lighter romance enthusiast lorenz also listening to the most pining songs just the sappiest playlist known to man

as usual, i am Obsessed with lighter being down bad. he's such a fucking dork, i need him. have been listening to a variety of love song playlists for the last few days as i write this and its not helped the brainrot. cw: none, pure fluff, gn!reader wc: 444 (or 618 with the bonus)

when he's out and about, he tends to listen to metal and rock, the same kind of stuff that's in his demo trailer. it gets him in the right headspace for his champion duties. when he's alone, though? his headphones are playing exclusively sappy glitter-gel-pen love songs. he would rather die than let anyone know, he has an image to upkeep - wouldn't even put it past him to have a second spotify account, bc u know the girls will bug him to see his wrapped every year.

within the love song genre, his favourite songs are ones that remind him of you.

his listening history is an amalgamation of different musical styles, but what he really pays attention to is the lyrics; if there's a song that really captures the way he feels about you, or one where the singer describes their lover and they're similar to you, he can't help but put it on repeat. he also loves duets - just like with romance movies, he loves imagining its the two of you in that situation. when he's deep in crush territory, he'll even make a playlist of those songs (it's long - can't help that every other song reminds him of you).

when you're finally together, he's more open about his love of love songs. it may take a bit into your relationship, during some late-night conversation about your respective silly behaviours when you were pining over each other, for him to show you the playlist, titled with just your initial and a heart emoji. but even before that, if you happen to play any of the songs he secretly listens to, you might catch him singing along under his breath (lowkey this post every five seconds). you might chalk it up to him picking up the words of songs the girls listen to, but that's because you don't catch the way he looks at you with the lyrics on his lips.

there are other times where he'll slide up behind you in your kitchen, arms around your waist and head propped on your shoulder, the domesticity and the fact you're wearing his tshirt getting to him. he's not much of a singer, but he'll hum one of those songs in that moment (his voice has a lovely smooth n deep timbre, so his humming sounds Heavenly in your ear). he might get a little embarrassed if you recognise the song and start humming along with him, or god forbid singing, but he'll still sway the both of you along to the music. he's not much of a dancer either, but he can figure out a midnight slow dance in the kitchen for you.

bonus!! a few songs i think he'd listen to, tho kinda influenced by my own music taste (+ spotify links): kiss her you fool - kids that fly (he has it on loop when he's psyching himself up to ask you out) meteor shower - cavetown davy crochet - the backseat lovers (perhaps i'm biased on this one bc i crochet) stitch me up - set it off can't help falling in love - elvis presley cloud 9 - beach bunny ("even when we fade eventually to nothing / you will always be my favourite form of loving" really hits with his whole 'dying for love' thing) love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse paper rings - taylor swift jackie and wilson - hozier (there's a lot of hozier in his playlists, but he really likes the thought of a family with you, even if that's only a couple lines of the song) valentine - atlas sweet tooth - cavetown ("guess i must be satisfactory / you said you love me exactly the way i am" takes him Out i can just feel it) would you be so kind - dodie

[tyunni]

NISHIMURA RIKI B☆YFRIEND HEADCANONS...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤenhypen masterlist | library | ni-ki bf hc part 1

a/n: man when will it be may over riki era... probably never. anyways pt 2 to my riki bf headcanons post 😭 p.s. i DID post this on a side blog a while ago to try out tags so if u saw that no u didnt lol

genre: fluff ☝️ warnings: not proofread, kissing, if you want me to add anything please let me know!

idrk how to start this off so we're just gonna get str8 into it yeah lets GO

he is so whipped for you it's actually concerning. everyone can tell he is absolutely head over heels for you. from the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you to the way he can't shut up about you, it's just so obvious.

he adores you, honestly.

he can't help but smile when he sees you, always admiring you. doesn't matter what you're doing; be it you brushing your teeth, eating food, putting your shoes on, or sleeping. doesn't matter! he's watching you with hearts in his eyes and a grin spread across his face from ear to ear.

his heart swells whenever you hug and/or kiss him. he may not act like it, but he is so soft for you it's actually insane. he melts in your arms the second you wrap them around him. feels safe and content, closing his eyes as he buries his head in your shoulder.

physical affection is very very important to him, it makes him feel special. he enjoys it more than he likes to admit, to be honest!

he loves loves loves kisses!! you littering kisses all over his face? he's down. him littering kisses all over your face? he's down. a kiss on his cheek? absolutely! giving him a big phat smooch on the lips?? you just made him the happiest boy ever!!!!!

(more under the cut!)

if you cup his face in your hands and just enjoy the moment as you get lost in each other's eyes he will get all mushy and lovey dovey. it's moments like these that make him realize just how in love he is with you, how much he cherishes you, and how he wants to show you he appreciates you.

riki isn't really the best with words, it's a bit awkward for him to verbalize his feelings toward you... and also impossible as well, because he simply can not describe the overwhelming amount of love he has for you.

but whenever the time calls, he can list a thousand reasons as to why he fell in love with you. from your beauty to your personality, he notices things about you even you don't notice, and it never fails to make you smile (which is basically all that matters to him)

3AM dates with riki? 3AM dates with riki.

it's a must, honestly. whenever he can't sleep he almost always messages you. he doesn't like to bother you, but he can't help it! he's so bored and you're his s/o, who else would he spam at like 2 in the morning??

he's always amused when you answer him & complain about how you were about to go to sleep and how he disturbed you. but he knows you're lying by the way you're refusing to leave when he tells you he won't mind if you go to bed and that he can always just go back to scrolling through tiktok.

"oh you're sleepy? okay 👍 i'll just go back to tiktok then" "NO DONT GO IM NOT GOING TO SLEEP YET"

and when he offers to go snack hunting at a 24 hour convenience store, who are you to refuse? and even if you were to refuse... too bad he's literally at your door right now, open up y/n <3

sometimes he doesn't even message you beforehand, he just randomly shows up at your house and the next thing you know you're taking a walk while everyone else in your neighborhood is sound asleep.

tries his best to be super cliche romantic with you. says he does it only cuz he knows you want him to do it, when in reality a part of him has always wanted to recreate those overused cute scenes in romance movies.

he will never admit to it, but sometimes he purposefully sets your dates on the days he knows there will be rain. he checks the weather beforehand just to make sure it's a rainy day 😭

but why? you may ask...

so he can take off his warm jacket and drape it over your figure when he notices you shaking and shivering beside him. so he can pull out his umbrella - specifically the smallest umbrella he could find at the dorms so he has an excuse to pull your body against his side and protect you from the rain droplets that slowly fall onto the top of your head.

and most importantly, so he can walk you home, discard the umbrella once he reaches your doorstep, watch as the rain drops glide down from your head to your face. and then he leans in and gently wipes them away from your features as he smiles softly when he notices your breath hitch at the close proximity. his hands then find their way to your cheeks, thumbs wiping away more droplets as the rain gets heavier and heavier. and at this point neither of you care that your clothes are basically drenched. all that you can focus on is how he's so gently holding your face in his hands, how he's looking into your eyes with so much love and adoration, and how he is so close to you that you can admire all the pretty moles that are scattered across his face, thinking that it's impossible for him to get any closer. but when he tilts his head and somehow shortens the proximity even more you can't help but flutter your eyes shut as you feel his lips lightly graze over yours. but he doesn't kiss you. he simply smiles before completely pulling away, grabbing his umbrella and walking off.

Yeah HE'S ANNOYING 😑😑😑👎👎👎

and when u run inside your house pull out ur phone and proceed to spam him telling him he can't just do that & that if he pulls that shit on you ever again ure gonna break up w him...

yeah he just smirks 🧍‍♀️ bcuz he knows u dont mean it- OF COURSE U DON'T- he's got u wrapped around his finger, there's no way out, i fear...

but let's not pretend he's not wrapped around your finger... cuz he is.

if you suddenly call him to hang out or tell him you miss him he is basically running to your location!!

but not before pretending that he's too busy and complaining about how you're so "needy" and "obsessed" with him, but in a lighthearted manner obviously.

he would rather step on a bunch of spikey nails with his bare feet than upset you with his words. and if he feels that his words affected you in a bad way he will kiss you all over your face and reassure you that he didn't mean it like that

he's soft but just for you 🫰

well... maybe not just for you but he's definitely the most comfortable showing you his soft side 🫶 you're basically the only one he doesn't feel awkward sharing his lovey dovey mushy thoughts with

even though he's confident now, just like the first few months of your relationship, he still gets shy around you. he thinks it's embarrassing, but you think it's cute :)

for example, when he tries to call you new pet names that you two aren't usually used to.

the second the word sweetheart left his lips he immediately turned away from your figure, hid his face in his hands and cringed at himself for even contemplating calling you that. you had to practically beg him to turn around because he was refusing to look at you for a good 5 minutes 😭

"that was so bad, y/n. why did i say that?"

and then he whines about it to you so if you want him to shut up you have to hold his face and give him a quick kiss

one time you tried shutting him up by putting your hand over his mouth... but it backfired. he licked your palm 🧍‍♀️ so naturally, you used his shirt as a tissue and wiped your palm on him while complaining about how gross he was

yeah... a kiss it is.

speaking of kisses, he loves them

more specifically, he loves catching you off guard with them.

you two could be play fighting with pillows, watching a movie, bickering, cuddling, simply talking and suddenly his lips are on yours?

mostly he pulls this on you when you two are playing video games and he feels that there's a chance he might lose to you

he puts down his controller, gently grabs your chin, squishes your cheeks so your lips pout and gently puts his plush lips on yours.

inevitably, you close your eyes. biggest mistake you've ever made.

with one hand still squishing your cheeks and his lips still moving in sync with yours, he uses his other hand to pick up his controller and beats your ass in the game

when you hear the victory cheers coming from the TV you quickly open your eyes and gasp in shock at the sight of the screen.

you call him a dirty cheater, which is true...

but is it really cheating if he's kissing you?

"you cheated!! you were kissing me just to distract me, what the hell?!"

"it's not cheating if you don't get caught 😁"

"that doesn't even apply to this scena-"

boom! he kisses you again.

he's a shithead. but he's your shithead.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @krewified @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @yyx2 @koishua @kac-chowsballs @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @liz-riz @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @enhasimpeu @sieuneo @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.