#i also think i want to be involved in the real work as early as possible

[whentherewerebicycles]

question: when you're starting a new job, what do you most want out of your first week of onboarding? what's most helpful for you to know/understand upfront? also... what's not helpful? tell me your onboarding nightmare stories too lol

[httpstes]

* ˚ ✦astro observations VII* ˚ ✦

Links to other astrovations: Astrology observations l, Astrology Observations ll, Astrology observations lll, Astrology observations IV, Astro Observations V Astrology observations VI

✩ Aquarius and pisces moon's can get annoyed with others for no reason, they might even beat themselves up over it. I’ve noticed with these individuals (unless strong 4H placements are involved or cancer) that they tend to not like people who are constantly in their vicinity 24/7, especially friends or lovers, these people rlly enjoy their personal space and alone time so they recharge their social battery as well as their tolerance for others.

✩ Aqua and Pisces moons may also feel that they can’t be their real selves around others, this authentic version of them may only truly be revealed to family members or a very close friend or lover. This could also add to the need to be alone as they could feel no one will ever understand them, their mind, mannerisms and behaviour. It’s like they want someone to pick apart their brain and understand who they are at their core but at the same time they’re afraid of letting others into their internal world.

✩ North Node in the 7th house seems like a difficult placement for the NN to be in. NN in the 1st house would symbolise finding your direction in life independently, therefore being encouraged to rely on oneself. North Node in the 7th house is quite the opposite, in the worst cases, I've seen it manifest in individuals who feel like they're incomplete without a romantic life partner and never properly heal, jumping from one person to the next in order to not be alone. Positively, this placement can indicate being encouraged to work with other people and to develop deep connections to others as with SN in the 1st, you may be more inclined to do things your way. NN in the 7th pushes you in the direction of compromise and balance within relationships.

✩ Chiron and Neptune in the 3rd house can indicate troubles with speaking (speech impediment, afraid of speaking in front of a group of people etc).

✩ Chiron and Neptune in the 3rd can also show early childhood bullying or being purposefully left out/made fun of by other kids your age. I've seen quite a few people with this placement deal with this, and years later they develop social anxiety and in worst cases agoraphobia :(

✩ Going back to the first point of Chiron/Neptune- they may have felt stupid or "slower" than other kids their age when it came to school further adding to the sense of unease and anxiety when it comes to school or dealing with their peers.

✩P.S I love you Chiron/Neptune in 3H individuals ❤️, yall are so strong and you are smarter than you realise 🙏

✩Venus/Sun/Moon/Mars in the 5th house start getting into/doing more creative hobbies. Idc if it's music, writing, poems, acting, knitting, painting, dancing, fashion hell even sculpting and becoming a DJ, JUST DO ITTT. Trust you are blessed with a mind that inclines to the creative side, use this please esp if the moon is in the 5th house it will heal your inner child. Mars here could show you feeling energised from creative pursuits and hobbies, a creative career could be well-suited. Even if you don't pursue a creative career, or (from what some of these people have told me 😭) don't consider yourself creative, do anything where you can add your own twist and opinion to it. Even if you don't think so or see it yourself, others will definitely be able to see the emotion/innovation/vision in whatever you create.

✩Having a lot of placements in the lower hemisphere of the chart especially the 4th house can indicate having an introverted personality.

✩ Furthermore, this can also indicate an individual who has a lot of layers, and it takes a while to get them out of their shell. This or they choose who they want to see the real them, no matter the years you've known them or the closeness.

✩Martian ruled 12H (Scorpio/Aries) or Mars in the 12H can indicate having wild ass dreams. Might involve a lot of fighting, and chasing, honestly it's giving war-zone. Your dreams could be very, very vivid too.

✩ Martian-ruled 12H or Mars in the 12H can also indicate repressing your anger a lot. This could stem from childhood trauma and with Taurus/Sag in the first (Whole signs), you could've felt bad expressing your anger, being taught it's not a good thing to show outward. With Taurus in the 1st this could show developing a put-together and calm demeanor since a young age and not wanting to break that peace wall you have built up. With Sag in the 1st this could show wanting to or being taught to come across as happy all the time or only being positive. Sometimes I've even noticed these individuals would rather come across as wild, carefree and happy than ever admit or show their more...plotting side 😈 (scorpio12H)..ig you could say LMAO.

✩Saturn in the 6H could show an individual needing a routine to keep them mentally in check and sane. Without one, they may feel like their whole life is crumbling right in front of them.

✩9H/3H placements can get on with anyoneee I swear. Even if they don't think so or if they are more introverted in nature, others just feel they give off this carefree, relaxed vibe making it easier for conversation and getting to know them. (Unless there's like Pluto on the Ascendant lol or sumn, this placement by itself tho does give off carefree knowledgeable energy).

✩Venus conj Saturn can show your boundaries constantly being tested and the universe sending you the same people in a different font, testing your ability to blindly love others until you get it straight lolll.

✩Saturn conj Venus can also show; dating/attracting older people, those who fuck with you romantically get screwed over eventually #karma, and or being serious about love like only wanting/pursuing relationships that are long-term.

✩Saturn conj Venus can also indicate meeting your "true love" later on in life, and by later I mean whatever point in time it is societally deemed 'oh that's very late to get married' blah blah.

✩These individuals could also just have good standards for what they want from their partner/future spouse (love that for you guys)

✩Back to NN in the 1st, stop serving other people and be of service to yourself!! It's okay to be selfish sometimes.

✩Uranus in the 1H, Aqua asc, yall weird 🤓. You already know that but I just felt the need to reiterate it, love all your little quirks and hyperfixations tho ❤️

✩Mars in the 11H be up to some crazy stuff in the bedroom (notice the Aquarian themes here)

✩Saturn overlaying the 4th house in synastry, 4th house person may feel like the Saturn individual is their 4lifer and can see them staying in their life long-term.

✩Not an observation just a personal opinion, I love people's charts where their planets sprinkle EVERYWHERE in the chart, it's so cool IMO and these people tend to be very balanced and have knowledge on all areas of life. I also don't know why but these charts are rare for me to find. Individuals who have planets in nine different houses is crazy I wanna see your chart.

PS- The astrovations are so back 🙏

ღAll my notes are personal observations and thoughts. I am not a professional astrologer and like to have a sense of whimsy in my life by looking at peoples charts, thankyou.

[amazinglyashy]

Hi , I love your LADs works it fits the would be characters reactions according to their personality and I look forward to your work. Can I request a LADs men reaction to reader reading smut manga or BL smut , only if your comfortable with it. Thank you and All the best for your future endeavours 🥰

I have a tab I'm going through right now of a bunch of josei manga and then I open tumblr to this ask LMAO I feel personally attacked, so of course anon! Thank you for the sweet words, and for the request!

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to discovering you being an avid smut reader

Sylus -

He is such an evil person.

If he manages to find a physical copy that you own, he's going to read it and he's going to do it in his own time when he knows you'll be coming over soon. He times it just right where he'll be near the ending by the time you get there.

You walk in to him looking absolutely exquisite in reading glasses, a small smile on his lips as he leans back in his chair to ask you how your day has been- book in hand.

The embarrassment is real, even if you claim to not care about 'cringey' things and consuming them. Your love is sitting there with a smutty book in his hand and a knowing grin, and you can't help how hot your face is getting.

"You know, if you like something, you should just tell me, kitten."

Maybe he's referring to the contents of the book, maybe he's referring to your general enjoyment of the genre, you can't tell. He does mean both, though. He would buy you a library worth of smutty books if it made you happy, and he would get all the needed supplies to commit the same acts the characters do for you the next time the two of you have a session.

"Did you really think I'd be upset by something like this, sweetie? You're cute. I'm glad you found something you enjoy. In the future though, don't keep secrets from me. I want to know about you. Everything, about you."

Rafayel -

He will come up behind you to ask you something, and realize that you can't hear him due to being engrossed or having headphones in. He doesn't mean to snoop, but your screen is on display for him, and you don't know he's there.

Oh, he's so happy he decided to try and ask you something.

By the time you realize he's behind you, it's too late, and attempting to shut off your phone proves unsuccessful because he's already giggling.

"How much did you see?!"

"Not much."

"Liar!"

And you're right, because after a moment of silence, he will proceed to recite the last page you had been reading, ducking out of the way as you jump up, your face reddening, as you chase him around the room.

He doesn't care in the slightest. In fact, he will absolutely surprise you with shipping merch from whatever it is you've been reading, and remind you when new chapters are about to drop in case you forget due to stress at work.

Rafayel will also ask you how certain characters are doing, or how certain relationships are coming along. If you enjoyed watching soap operas, he's absolutely the one to watch over your shoulder and ask you questions to catch up.

He still makes rude quips here and there, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it, and the involvement is strangely comforting.

Zayne -

He's known for a long time. Benefits of knowing you when the two of you were younger, he has a pretty good read on the things you might or might not enjoy without needing an explicit answer.

That, and you left a doujinshi on his coffee table once after you used his spare key to break into his home to clean and surprise him with dinner after you had gotten off of work surprisingly early.

No, he won't let you live it down.

He will find a way to calmly bring it up in the most absurd and unnecessary situations. It's his own little running joke that makes you so adorably frustrated, he can't help but continue it.

He'll find other ways to tease you about it, much like how you occasionally tease him over his sweet tooth despite you loving snacks just as much as he does.

Sometimes though, he likes to throw you through a little bit of a loop.

"But also, if there is any content in what you've been reading that you believe you would enjoy, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"I enjoy all of it, that's why I read it, Zayne."

"I assume you misunderstood me, so allow me to restructure my sentence. If there's anything in what you've been reading that you would like done to you, I would like to know. I would love to do those things to you, whatever they might be."

Xavier -

He has purchased you some of these books and ebooks.

Probably the Li that would know the soonest out of all four of them aside from Zayne, just because he kind of just... assumed, much to your own mortification when he told you this fact months ago.

He doesn't give a crap though, it's something you like. He doesn't see any difference between it and the claw machines, even though there is an extremely stark contrast between the two. He used to see no point to the claw machine games you'd love to play, but quickly saw the appeal when he got to play with you.

Maybe he can't share your enjoyment for this, but he does love sitting in the same room as you, reading together even if the two books being consumed are vastly different in content.

He just enjoys your company, it really doesn't matter to him what you both do, or in this case, enjoy during that time.

He thinks its really cute and endearing, especially if you reach a point in whatever you're reading that gets you squealing out loud. Because not only is it absolutely adorable to hear, it's also nice because he knows it means you're comfortable enough to react out loud to your reading, even if it's a rare occurrence.

It's nice to know you're relaxed around him, in every capacity.

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Three-Month Rule.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: The first time you decide to skip the celebration and go to bed early, and the first time Spencer decides to drink and open his heart to you after knowing you're leaving for three months.

Words: 5,5k (very long).

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. spencer from the first seasons with glasses meow (my fav)+also he is a little drunk and lovesick puppy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: These two are probably one of my favorites, this felt so warm to write and before you ask, yep, I've been thinking about a part two (maybe even more, who knows).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

I. Moonlight ⏾

The night after closing a case with a positive outcome often involved celebratory drinks and lengthy discussions about everyday topics. For you and your colleagues, it was a rare opportunity for relaxation. It was a way to temporarily distance yourselves from the challenging situations you had encountered. A great way to relieve stress.

Typically, you would choose to remain in the chair situated in the center of the bar and sip your drink at a leisurely pace, allowing it to last all night as you chatted and shared lighthearted banter about various topics, though you would never discuss work. You were always smiling, as if nothing unfortunate had ever happened. And you always looked beautiful, so distant and impossible to catch.

Spencer always looked at you, biting his tongue to keep from sputtering out all the words that struggled to come out every time his eyes fell on yours. He didn't even take a sip of the drinks that were offered to him. As a rule, he didn't drink alcohol at all, and he liked it even less when he knew it could affect how he saw you. So clearly. So real. As if you were the most amazing work of art he'd ever seen, even if he wasn't very familiar with art.

Tonight, sadly, everything was different.

He had not been able to indulge in that particular pleasure of admiring you because you had chosen to return to your room rather than stay with the rest of the team at the hotel bar. It was a lie to say that it had not caught his attention. You had always stayed, even for a glass of water. But now you were...away from everyone. And then he was too.

The time passed rather quickly after he had a couple of sips of different fruity cocktails, which he didn't think would have any effect. Spencer was very mistaken. He found himself walking to the elevator before he had a chance to think things through. It didn't take him long to reach your hotel room. His footsteps were soft but urgent enough to go to the outside of the door. He just wanted to see you, needed to see you, and was already anxious about the reason why he wasn't allowed to do it now.

His knuckles knocked softly on your door with a certain caution, as quietly as possible, but just loud enough for you to hear, as he did his best to keep everyone else from hearing it as well. His hair was slightly disheveled, his glasses were out of place, and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones underneath.

“It's me. Reid.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, his voice slightly raspy but still as soft as ever. “Can I talk to you?”

The sound of his call echoed too loudly inside the empty hotel room. Everything in the place was silent, still, with no lights or air conditioning. The room was almost dark, except for the streaks of city lights filtering through the curtains that ran over the large windows. You had been lying quietly and staring at the ceiling for no more than a minute and thirty seconds, your eyes blank and fixed on the ceiling after waking up so suddenly.

You gradually rose to a seated position and proceeded to the door. Without hesitation, you opened it to find his eyes filled with concern.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Your voice was a little hoarse, and your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light in the hallway.

“I'm fine,” he replied, barely looking at your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy. He hadn't realized how late it was. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”

Yes, of course. It was two o'clock in the morning.

You couldn’t hide the frown of confusion. It was late—far too late for a casual check-in—and yet here he was, standing before you with an air of unease that was so unlike him. “Don’t worry. What’s up?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to mask your concern.

Thousands of ideas crossed your mind at that moment. Maybe there was a new case, some new clue that would have reopened the four-day investigation that had just ended a few hours ago, or who knows what. The job was as unpredictable as your coworkers.

“I…” Reid’s words faltered before he even began, as if his thoughts were racing far ahead of him. His eyes flitted between you and the hallway, but he couldn’t seem to find the courage to make sense of his feelings, let alone speak them aloud. The alcohol was doing little to help his clarity of thought. It had been a few small sips; he had convinced himself, but now it was doing its work on his resolve. He was here. And he couldn’t walk away. “I was just…that.”

That's when you noticed something: he seemed a little off-balance, with a subtle flush on his cheeks and a lingering smell of alcohol. “Are you under the influence of alcohol, Dr. Reid?”

Oh. Oh. Oh.

If he was surprised to see you so sleepy, he got even more surprised by that question and by how close you've gotten to him. His eyes slightly widened at the close proximity between you both, his mouth slightly agape, and his brain almost completely frozen for a moment, before he shook his head quickly as an attempt to pull himself together. He cleared his throat before speaking, his words stumbling and incoherent.

“What? No, no, I’m not drunk.” He stammered, shaking his head as though trying to convince himself. “I just took a sip.”

Just a sip, two or three, after mentally rereading that ridiculous article about love he had read in one of the magazines in the lobby. The one that made him think about you and how you made him feel, the same one that revolutionized his emotions and his rational part to the point that he drank out of the wrong glass all night long.

“I see.”

Your gaze seemed to linger on his disheveled hair, unbuttoned shirt, mismatched glasses, and the subtle hint of color in his cheeks. You arched an eyebrow in response and took a small step forward to examine his face more closely. This was a version of him you were not entirely familiar with because Spencer Reid wasn’t a drinker.

“You seem a little nervous and flushed. Are you sure you're not drunk?” You asked with concern, noticing his demeanor.

Reid had to suppress a shiver when you moved even closer, nearly reducing his entire nervous system to a puddle of goo. He was incredibly aware of your proximity, like his brain had suddenly become hyperfocused on your existence and every move you made.

“Ah…y-yes, I'm s-sure I’m not-” He stuttered the words, feeling like a complete mess of nerves.

Something feels wrong…different.

You stepped forward, your eyes narrowing in on him, still uncertain but unwilling to leave him in such an odd state. “You’re sweating,” you observed quietly. “Come in. Sit on the bed. I have water.”

Without giving him the chance to refuse, you turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow. He didn't even have a chance to react before he found himself inside your room, feeling like he was in a whole different world. Even though he was familiar with the space, as his room was exactly the same, somehow yours felt more comfortable and cozy.

Spencer followed you to the bedside table, still feeling a bit shaky. The scent of your perfume and the quiet of the room made him a bit nervous, but before he could say anything, you offered him a glass.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the water and sitting on the edge of the bed.

As he sat down, the bed sagged slightly under his weight, and he felt a surge of nervousness. Being alone with you in your hotel room suddenly felt incredibly intimate, and he found himself taking small sips of water to keep himself grounded. The drink was refreshing, but it didn't do much to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He avoided looking at your figure standing in front of him, focusing instead on the glass in his hands, fidgeting and nervously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, I have to ask now. You showed up at my door out of nowhere, looking like you'd just run a marathon, flushed like a tomato, and reeking of alcohol to boot.” You said, sitting down on the bed next to him. “So what brings you exactly here?” Your voice seemed to ring in his ears.

You. Only you. Forever you.

“I, uh, I came here to...I came here to...talk. I wanted to talk.” He managed to stammer, his eyes fixed on the glass of water.

“To...talk?” You repeated, your voice bringing back his attention. He suddenly felt tongue-tied, like he forgot everything he wanted to say right then and there. “About what?”

You, again.

Reid fiddled nervously, bouncing his leg up and down, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull at his shirt, feeling his skin too warm and overheating under his clothes. Why did it suddenly feel so hot in there, in your hotel room? He found himself unable to maintain eye contact again, but this time he found bravery in the depths of his mind and he managed to speak.

“I, uh…” He paused for a moment, his words becoming shaky. “I just...I just wanted to talk about you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that answer. But before you could say anything, Spencer spoke again as his thoughts burst out unfiltered.

“You’ve been quiet. I mean, since the case, and you left the bar early. You’ve been...different, sort of...I mean, not different-” His stammering was cut off by a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He was rambling, and he knew it; he could feel how warm he was under the heat of your gaze, but he couldn’t stop his words from coming out. “I heard about the job offer in New York that you've accepted.”

In that moment, you frowned, confused by the drama that perhaps the influence of alcohol in his system was bringing. The job offer was more of an internship than anything else, something temporary, just for three months, not a permanent change of scenery. But for some reason, hearing his words made your heart sink.

You hadn't really expected anyone on the team to be so affected by your leaving for a while; everyone seemed too wrapped up in their own business to wish you anything more than a good trip. After all, the world didn't stop spinning, and serial killers didn't stop killing because you weren't around. You didn't consider yourself that indispensable.

“I just, I don't know...” He mumbled, rubbing his face again, tired of his own thoughts. “I just...I feel like...I might miss you a lot.”

His eyes closed for a split second in fear, but then he looked at you and saw that you were smiling.

“You really drank quite a lot today.” Your tone was gentle as you carefully adjusted his glasses and took the empty glass from his hands. He hadn't even noticed that he had already finished all the water.

The feeling of your fingers on his glasses made his brain buzz for a moment, and he found himself wishing it would last for just a few seconds more. But then the glass was gone, and he was left there fidgeting with his hands.

“I know.” He muttered weakly, feeling the heat and alcohol taking a toll on him. His mind felt foggy, his thoughts swirling around and getting more tangled by the second. “But that’s besides the point.”

“Spencer, you’re being impulsive and emotional.” You said it bluntly, leaning forward slightly. “You were drinking earlier; you're all sweaty, and you're rambling. That's what alcohol does to you…you get overly reactive.”

His gaze shifted to the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am being impulsive and stupid, but…it doesn’t make it any less true.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you. There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t seen before. You studied him for a moment—the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under some invisible weight. This wasn’t the person you were used to—the analytical, composed genius who always seemed to have an answer for everything. This was someone raw, someone caught between logic and emotion, struggling to make sense of it all.

“I’m sure you’re incapable of being stupid,” you offered lightly, your tone tinged with a gentle tease, hoping to pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

His head lifted, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I think I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a single breath, unpolished but heavy with sincerity.

Your heart stopped for a beat, your breath catching in your throat. “Oh.”

His confession hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the words settling like a weight in the room. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing the enormity of what he’d just said, but there was no taking it back now. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he awaited your response, his vulnerability laid bare.

“You can be stupid, then.” You say it in a kind of joking tone, trying to process.

Does he love you? The same person you were afraid to touch so much for fear of making him uncomfortable. The same one who looked at you funny when you tried to fall asleep on the jet after drinking too much tea and said incoherent things. The one who always questioned your words with his statistics and exact data. Does he really love you? Can he do it?

It was impossible. Completely impossible.

“You’re a little too drunk to be saying things like that now,” you added gently, a note of concern creeping into your voice.

Carefully, you stood up, moving closer to him, your heart softening as you saw the way his fingers gripped the bed. He looked like he was already treading on the edge of something, but you weren’t sure he was in the right state to navigate it.

His brows furrowed slightly, a conflicted look crossing his face. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though his words slurred slightly, and his eyes seemed unfocused. He shifted slightly but his balance was off, and his hand wavered as he reached for the glass that had once held water, only to stop and let it fall back onto the bedside table.

“No, you’re not,” you said softly, taking a step closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, but it only made you more aware of how fragile he seemed at that moment. “You’re exhausted, and you’ve had too much to drink. You need rest.”

He tried to look at you, his gaze unfocused and blurry. “I don’t want to sleep…not yet. I want to…I want to stay awake with you.” His voice faltered, as if the words were fighting to stay coherent. “Forever with you.”

Did you hear that right? He said…? Really?

“You’re not going to stay awake all night,” you say, talking firmly but kindly. You could see the drunkenness in his eyes, and you knew he needed more than just a glass of water or a few minutes to collect his thoughts. “And you’re staying here for sleep.”

His lips parted in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to argue. You led him to the bed, supporting him as he swayed slightly. He was too drunk to protest in that moment. Then, you helped him lie down, adjusting the pillows behind him so that he was comfortable. And you also took the time to remove his glasses and shoes, placing them on the bedside table and the floor.

“I’m fine,” he murmured again, but this time it was barely audible, and his eyes were fluttering closed as he relaxed into the bed, his breath evening out. He was fighting sleep, but the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to push back any longer.

After a brief period of reflection, you sit on the edge of the bed and observe him as he moves slightly. His face appears relaxed, and the tension from before seems to have dissipated. However, there is still a subtle vulnerability in his demeanor: open, unprotected, and exposed in a way you had never seen him before. This only serves to deepen your desire to care for him.

You gently reached over, tucking the covers around him and brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You’re too drunk to be making big decisions tonight, genius,” you whispered softly.

His eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his bleary eyes locking onto yours with a faint sense of clarity. “I didn’t…mean to make you uncomfortable,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “I care about you.”

A small smile appeared on your face, your heart aching as you brushed another strand of hair from his forehead. “I know,” you whispered.

His hand reached up weakly, grazing your wrist before falling back to the bed. He blinked a few times, his words coming slower now, as though the weight of sleep was already pulling him under. “I care about you so much,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, as though he were fading away in the middle of his confession.

You let out a gentle sigh, your thumb brushing his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “I care about you too,” you said, your voice calm but filled with warmth, though you kept your tone soft to keep him relaxed. “But right now, you just need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about all of this, okay?”

Spencer nodded weakly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay...” He murmured, his breathing muffled even more as his body relaxed on the bed and his gaze rested on you, on every feature of your face. “I think you're very pretty, and not just physically by genetics...you're very, very pretty. I could look at you forever, even if, technically, forever doesn't exist for humans.”

At any moment, your heart would leap out of your chest, or you'd probably vomit butterflies. It was too much sweetness in a Spencer way.

You remained by his side, sitting on the edge, keeping watch over him for a few moments. It felt strange, being so close to him in this way. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected his confession.

But for tonight, all you could do was let him rest and let him find peace in his sleep. You brushed one last strand of hair away from his face, then, with a soft sigh, you stood and pulled the blankets up around him.

The silence of the room enveloped you as you settled into bed, careful not to disturb him. You remained seated for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his features softened by sleep. In the darkness, Spencer seemed different, more fragile, more human. His usual confidence in every word that came out of his mouth, the brilliant mind that made him so formidable, gave way to something more tender.

You cautiously stretched out your legs and leaned against the headboard. Sleep still seemed a long way off, even though the fatigue of the long case closed in the afternoon weighed heavily on your body. But your thoughts refused to calm down and leave you alone for a moment. His confession kept repeating in your mind, driving you and your heart crazy.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a long, slow sigh, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. He stirred slightly, moving closer to your side as if subconsciously seeking your comfort and closeness. He tilted his head in your direction, a faint smile on his lips, and the sight brought a pang to your chest.

“What am I going to do about you, Spencer Reid?” You murmured to yourself, with a curious sensation in your chest.

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as the questions began to tumble one after another. What if he hadn’t been drinking? Would he still have said those things? Did he even fully realize the gravity of what he’d shared, or was it just a moment of emotional release brought on by the late hour and the relief of a solved case?

And then there was your own reaction. The warmth in your chest, the protectiveness that surged when you saw him looking so vulnerable—it wasn’t new. You’d felt it before in smaller ways: a fleeting moment of connection during a case, a shared glance that lingered just a little too long. You’d always chalked it up to admiration or friendship, but now…

Now it felt like the beginning of a bridge you weren’t sure you were ready to cross.

Another sigh escaped you, and you tilted your head to glance at him again. His hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, resting loosely against the mattress. Without thinking, you reached out and let your fingers brush against his, barely touching. His skin was warm, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to question.

II. Sunlight ☀︎

The first thing you noticed when you woke was the soft warmth of sunlight spilling through the blinds, bathing the room in a quiet, golden glow. It was a still moment, the world outside almost silent, save for the faint hum of traffic far below. For a second, you weren’t sure where you were. The unfamiliar bed, the softness of the sheets, the absence of noise..it all felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.

But then you felt it, a slight weight on your arm. You turned your head slowly, your eyes softening as you took in the sight of Spencer still asleep beside you. His face was turned towards you, half-hidden by the pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His hand lay just a breath away from yours; his body curled slightly, seeking warmth and comfort. The usual lines of stress and guardedness that creased his features during the day were gone, replaced by a peace you rarely saw. He looked unguarded, almost childlike in his vulnerability, and it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.

For a moment, you just watched him, your mind replaying the events of the night before. Especially the way he’d reached for your hand, even in his half-conscious state, like it was instinctive and natural.

And now, here you were, lying next to him, watching him sleep like it was normal and meant to be.

You shifted your position slightly, being careful not to disturb him, and sat up, propping yourself up on your elbow. The room was silent, except for the faint hum of traffic. That stolen morning moment felt intimate to you, and you found yourself wondering how much Spencer would remember when he woke up.

Would you regret it? Would you want to go back and erase it all? Would he stop talking to you forever?

But then, it was almost as if he was meant to give you all those answers because he stirred. His hand moved, his breathing changed, and slowly but surely, his eyes opened. At first, Reid was dull and unfocused as he blinked in the morning light, feeling a sharp headache. Then, as he realized where he was, you saw his expression change: confusion, a flash of concern, and finally recognition.

“Morning,” you said softly, trying not to startle him.

He blinked again and frowned, feeling a twinge in his head. “Morning,” he replied, his voice groggy. He glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the tangled blankets, and then you.

You were sitting on the bed next to him—the first thing he saw when he woke up and the first person to greet him. It was just like the kind of dream he'd been having lately—only this time he wasn't asleep.

A brief silence fell as the pieces seemed to click into place in his mind. His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Last night…”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was racing, unsure of what he might remember, or worse, what he might regret. “You remember?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady.

His hand came up to rub his forehead, trying to shake the lingering fog of sleep. “I think so,” he said slowly. “We finished the case. We went to the bar.” His voice faltered, and his eyes dropped to the bed, as though searching for something solid in the scattered blankets to steady him. “I came here and said…some things, didn’t I?” His words hung in the air, filled with hesitation and a growing sense of discomfort. His cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away from you, almost embarrassed.

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “You said a lot of things.”

Spencer’s cheeks deepened in color, his hand dragging down his face as if that could somehow shield him from the weight of the moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

You frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for talking to me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face for any hint of reproach or discomfort, but all he found was warmth. Still, he hesitated, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. “I was drunk, and that’s so embarrassing,” he murmured, his tone tinged with self-reproach. “I don’t even know if what I said came out right.”

“It came out right,” you assured him gently, reaching out to cover his fidgeting hand with yours. The touch stilled him, his wide, uncertain eyes locking onto yours. “And it was just the alcohol talking…I know, don’t worry.”

He stared at your hand covering his, his throat working as if trying to form the right words. He didn’t pull away; if anything, he seemed to steady himself in your touch, though his voice wavered when he finally spoke. “It wasn’t just the alcohol,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to think that it made me say something I didn’t mean. Everything I said was true.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He held your gaze, his fingers unconsciously brushing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment.

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he continued, his cheeks still faintly pink but his voice growing steadier with each word. “I didn’t know how to tell you. And then last night, I guess…I couldn’t hold it back anymore.”

His honesty was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless and unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected this level of candor, not so soon, and certainly not first thing in the morning. You pulled your hand back gently, needing space to think, though the warmth of his touch lingered like an echo.

He really meant every word.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice cracking. You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I don't know what to say. It was all so sweet and nice to hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what this means, especially not with–”

“The distance,” he finished for you, his voice soft but resigned. He looked down, nodding slightly as though he’d anticipated this. “You’re leaving for New York soon.”

You exhaled slowly, relieved that he understood but also pained by the way his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. “It’s just three months,” you said gently, though the words felt hollow.

“I know, since I found out I did the math, and it's three months and four days.” He pointed out, almost not noticing that your cheeks had flushed slightly. “What I need to know is if you...if you have feelings for me, as more than friends.”

“Yes, I do.”

At that moment, it seemed that after almost a year of hiding his heartbeat for your sake, he could finally let his heart beat as much as he wanted.

But then you talk again.

“But it’s not fair to either of us to make any big decisions now, when I have to leave soon. I don’t want to risk ruining what we already have if we…if something doesn’t work.”

He looked at you, his expression serious. “But what if it works well?” Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no despair in his tone, only quiet hope. “What if it's so much better that we have between us now? Isn’t that worth the risk?”

His question settled between you, heavy and unanswerable in the moment. It wasn’t desperate or pleading—it was simply Spencer, laying his heart bare with a quiet hope that made your chest ache.

“I'm not sure,” you replied, your expression thoughtful. “Three months is a significant amount of time,” you added, striving to acknowledge his feelings while maintaining a degree of caution.

“I can wait if it's for you. I can.” He replied without hesitation.

The unwavering certainty in his voice and the calm patience he offered you were more than you expected. Perhaps even more than you thought you deserved.

“You shouldn’t have to wait for me,” you said softly, your gaze falling to the sheets. “It’s not fair to ask that of you.”

Spencer shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t ask,” he replied gently. “This is my choice.”

“What if the distance changes things? What if we lose this…connection?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “Like I said, it’s not like I haven’t done the math before. Three months isn’t forever, and if what we feel is real, then it won’t fade.”

In that moment, it was like a light bulb went off in your head, and the perfect solution just came to you.

“Exactly.” You pointed out with a small smile. “You know the three-month rule?”

Never before had you seen Dr. Reid confused, denying knowledge of any subject. It was as if the alcohol of the night before had caused a circuit breaker in his brain, or else you had no explanation for having to explain something he didn't know, and you did.

“A few weeks ago, I was drinking coffee and overheard a woman at the next table talking about how the first three months between two persons are enough to indicate whether they have a future or not.” You began to explain quickly, feeling a bit strange at how the usual roles between you seemed to have been turned upside down. “You know, if they're going to make it as a couple.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your words. “You mean…is like a trial period?” he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of nervous energy coursing through your entire body. “Yes, that's exactly it. So we don't have to put a label on it right away or rush into it. But we could call, text, talk, maybe visit...just see how it feels. And when I officially come back, we'll know if it's something we really want to pursue.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying yours as though weighing the sincerity in your suggestion.

“Okay,” he said, his voice soft but resolve. “Three months. We’ll figure this out.”

Relief flooded you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Three months,” you repeated, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “And we’ll talk. Be honest. No expectations and the assurance that we can be friends again if we want.”

Spencer’s smile grew a fraction, and this time, when his hand reached for yours, it was deliberate. “Honesty,” he echoed, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “I can do that.”

For the first time that morning, the tension between you eased, replaced by a fragile but undeniable sense of hope. It wasn't a resolution, not quite, but it was a step forward, a promise to try. And for now, that was more than enough.

Because night before, you'd gone to bed early, thinking you didn't have much of a future at the BAU. But now you had Spencer with you in a way you'd never thought possible, and everything feels right.

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 29]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

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Foggy never thought he would be babysitting Matthew Murdock’s kid.

As much as Foggy loves Matt - and it is a lot - he is the first to admit his best friend is more than a bit of a disaster. Matt is brilliant and kind and truly a good soul, but he is also a self-destructive idiot with more baggage than any airport in the nation. He always tries to do the right thing, but the right thing never seems to involve taking care of himself. And that doesn’t even include all the Daredevil bullshit.

If Matt had come to him a few months ago and told Foggy he wanted to be a father - to go out and have a kid at that exact moment - Foggy would have beat him over the head with the nearest solid object. Matt can barely run his own life - there was no way he could raise a child.

Matt was still working on even managing to have friends and a real life outside of his mask and his ability to balance it all had been on thin ice. Matt getting into a serious relationship had been a laughable idea and that relationship leading to a baby wasn’t even a thought. 

As far as Foggy had been concerned, as long as he was Daredevil, Matt was destined to be a bachelor. 

So, of course, God’s favorite punching bag was told he already is a father. 

The change in Matt isn’t what Foggy expected. He expected panic. He expected Matt to be in Church for eight hours a day praying for guidance while he had a crisis. He expected Matt to spiral.

He hadn’t expected him to take to being a father like a duck to water. He hadn’t expected it to completely rewrite his best friend’s DNA. 

It seemed like overnight the dumpster fire of a man he knew was replaced - born from those ashes was someone who Foggy almost didn’t recognize. 

It was a Matt who cares about himself. One who isn't being reckless. One who no longer hides things from Foggy and Karen, who lies about injuries and thinks he is a one-man army. 

In the office, if Matt isn’t working, he’s listening to self-help or parenting books. He talks to other people, and he actually makes an effort to not look like he’s getting abused. He’s focused in a way Foggy hasn’t seen since college and it makes Foggy so so happy. 

But it also terrifies him because he doesn’t know how long it will last. Is this a temporary change or has Matt finally learned he isn’t alone, and his actions affect others?

It is too early to tell and Foggy feels like a complete asshole for doubting his friend and waiting for the ball to drop, but he feels like he’s also being realistic. 

Matt has hurt him so much over their friendship - and Foggy has hurt him, too - and his sweet angel of a child doesn’t deserve to have that be a possibility for her. 

As far as Foggy can tell, Minnie inherited all the best parts of Matt - his smile, his charm, and his inherently good nature. He knows if Matt doesn’t manage to fuck it up - and Foggy prays he doesn’t - she is going to grow up to be a beautiful woman, heart and soul, with no reason to yell at God. 

He couldn’t ask for a better little girl to babysit. 

All she wants to do is watch Lady and the Tramp over and over and Foggy couldn’t be happier to oblige. It is easy to sit back and watch the movie - he hasn't seen it in a long time, and he forgot how charming all the characters are.

It is halfway through the third viewing of the movie when big brown eyes finally tear themselves away from the screen. Foggy watches curiously as Minnie slips off the couch and toddles over to her toy chest in the corner of the room. She methodically begins going through her things, lifting up each toy and giving it a good once over before setting it back down.

“What’cha doing, squirt?” he asks.

Minnie does not look back to him as she replies, her tone making him feel like it is the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m gonna make dinner.” 

Dinner was had before Foggy arrived for babysitting duty, so he guesses it is time for some make believe. He is very much used to this from watching over his nieces and he wonders what kind of play will be in store for him. 

The first toy she deems worthy to have a seat at the table is a Barbie and the second, almost immediately after, is a floppy looking bear that clearly has had another life before this one. The pair are transported to the coffee table and delicately sat down before Minnie whips her head around to look up at Foggy.

“They need says-or-eases,” she says seriously. He can barely get out a confused ‘okay’ before she’s scampering down the hallway to the bedroom. He decides to sit and wait to see what is going to happen. Moments later, the little girl is back in the living room with an armful of supplies. He can make out a lot of costume jewelry, and among the fake pearls and gems, a pair of fake glasses. 

It is all dumped in front of the table unceremoniously before she is off to collect something else. 

Foggy stays on the couch as markers and a variety of play food join the pile on the floor. He has no idea what could be going on in the mind of the toddler, but it is amusing that she is so determined in her task.

Finally, everything is gathered and Minnie plops down in front of her toys, mouth turned down as she focuses. She starts sorting through things, making multiple little piles, and Foggy can’t help but ask, “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m a Big Girl,” she replies factually, not even bothering to look up. She’s completely locked in on whatever it is she is doing, and since she’s doing nothing deemed risky, Foggy lets his eyes go back to the movie. 

As Lady roams the streets of some unnamed city, Minnie dresses up her toys. Barbie gets draped in so many necklaces her torso is no longer visible, and the bear gets the glasses. She hums and haws over the positioning on his muzzle for a good minute before she takes them off and disappears from Foggy’s eyeline. Her feet pop up a second later and he determines she is laying tummy down on the ground.

He checks his phone as she plays - replying to messages from Marci and Karen and going through a few work emails. 

He is in the middle of checking his calendar when Minnie’s curls reappear in front of him and she is back to trying to balance the glasses on the bear’s face.

Except, now, the lens of the glasses have been colored over in red marker and Foggy knows exactly who the floppy bear is meant to be.

“Is that your Daddy?” he asks, not at all containing the glee in his voice. Karen is going to Love this. 

“Uh-huh,” the baby tells him as she finally manages to get the accessory to stay on. She grabs the doll next and holds it up to show it off. “This is Mommy.”

“That’s Mommy?” Foggy confirms. He quickly switches his phone over to his camera app to start taking a million and a half pictures.

“Uh-huh. They are on a date. Like Lady and Tramp,” she explains, “We gotta make them dinner.”

His heart absolutely soars and he knows this is one of those stories he is going to tell everyone - Matt’s precious little daughter pretending her toys are her parents on a date, while her real parents are out on their first date. It is some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen and he’s glad he’s the one who agreed to babysit. 

He pushes himself up into standing, so ready to get in on this make believe action, “Of course. What are we making them for dinner?”

They spend the next five minutes rearranging things - the play kitchen set is moved into the real kitchen and Foggy drapes a throw blanket between two chairs so the dining guests can’t see the food being prepared. Mommy Doll and Daddy Bear get a plastic Pooh Bear plate between them, and an LED candle is scrounged up to give the date the right ambience. 

Foggy gets designated as the Waiter - he even slicks his hair back and lets Minnie draw a pencil mustache under her nose and she, of course, is the Chef, as well as puppeteer of the toys. 

Once everything is set up - the make believe begins.

“Oh, ho, hon,” Foggy says in a horrible French accent as he kneels beside the coffee table, a pad of paper and a pen in hand. “What a lovely couple! You are looking so beautiful this evening, mademoiselle!” 

“Thank you!” Minnie chimes, altering her voice just a little to be higher as she takes hold of the doll to make it bounce as it ‘talks’. “You are beauty-fulls too!” She then grabs the bear with her other hand and shakes him just a bit, making him sound gruff as he chastises, “What about me?”

“You are as handsome as ever, sir,” is his cheesy reply. With too much flourish, he brings up his pen and positions it on his paper, “What drinks can I get started for you? Water? Juice? Wine? May I suggest a bit of hot cocoa?” He over emphasizes the last word, making the little girl start to giggle.

“We don’ts have cocoa! Only water and appy juice!”

Foggy dramatically throws his hand over his heart, “My apologies! The chef has let me know our options tonight are Water de Aqua and Appy Juice.”

“We want appy juice!” Daddy Bear tells him, and he makes sure to write the order in nice big letters.

“A wonderful selection, sir! We get it from the finest grocer, and it is chilled to perfection. Shall I get you started with some appetizers?”

Minnie squints over to him, tilting her head to the side and doing a wonderful impression of Matt as she asks, “What is an appy-tiger?”

“It is a snack you get before dinner, so you don’t get hungry while the Chef makes the food,” he explains in his normal voice. 

The toddler nods like she really understands what he means, then she turns her two toys to face each other. Mommy Doll is moved first, “Do you want an appy-tiger?” 

Daddy Bear’s head nods as Minnie grumbles out, “I want a cheese stick and ice-cream. Please, thank you.”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Mommy Doll replies. She is turned towards Foggy so hard her necklaces clatter together, “I want a cheese stick, too. Please, thank you.”

He writes down the request and promises, “That will be right out.” As he pushes himself up onto his feet, Minnie streaks past him to get to her kitchen before him. He purposefully takes his time, letting her get herself set up before he arrives. “Order up! We got two cheese sticks and an ice cream for the couple at table one.”

“Two cheese sticks and ice cream!” The little girl calls back excitedly. She moves to start digging through her plastic food, but then she freezes, and she gets a look on her face Foggy has seen so many times on Matt’s that he’s lost count.

She’s heard something. 

Before Foggy can ask what it is, the unmistakable sound of a fuse being blown fills the air and the power dies, leaving them in a deep darkness. A brief panic takes a hold of him - he’s been in far too many situations where this sort of thing means danger - but logic prevails, and he rushes over to the window to assess the damage. 

The neighboring buildings still have their lights on, so someone in the building must have overloaded something. It happens all the time in the heat of the summer and not a cause for him to go into fight or flight mode.

“Looks like it is just us,” he tells Minnie as he turns back to her. He can only just barely make out her outline - there is only one window in the room, and it faces an alley. There is next to no light filtering in and the only thing still going in the apartment is the weak LED candle.

He expects Minnie to be scared - after all the sudden lack of light is kind of terrifying - but she seems completely unaffected. 

“The tee-vee turned off,” is what she replies with, sounding annoyed as can be. 

“Everything turned off,” Foggy counters. “We’ve got no electricity. We have to wait for it to come back on.”

He hears her huff as he makes his way back to the couch. He’s careful as he moves, not wanting to accidentally crush any of the playthings that have been spread around. 

“Do you still want to play Dinner Date?” He asks. It is pretty dark, but if they just stick with going between the couch and the fake-kitchen, he thinks things should be okay. 

“No, I wanna watch Lady and Tramp.” There is a slight whine in her voice that makes him think this might turn into tears and his heart breaks a little. He doesn’t want to be the one to deny her anything. 

“The power is out, squirt. The television isn’t going to work. We have to do something that doesn’t require power.” 

“Why?” He can hear the underlying Murdock Anger in her question, and he notes it is something he’ll have to tell Matt.

“Do you know how it usually makes this sort of noise?” Foggy asks before humming. He can sometimes hear electricity, so he knows she must know what he’s talking about. She confirms with a little ‘uh-huh’ and he continues on. “Well, that means it is getting power and can work. It’s not getting power right now, so it can’t work.”

He hopes the logic makes sense in her little brain. 

She doesn’t respond right away and that worries him. He plucks the little LED candle up from the coffee table and holds it up like a torch. It barely casts enough light for him to see his hand and does nothing to help him locate the curly haired toddler. 

He walks slowly over to the kitchen, hoping to find her pouting by her toys, but the area is empty. He did not hear the pitter patter of feet and groans at the thought of another ninja in his life. 

Of course, Matt’s child would be able to sneak around in the dark undetected. Why wouldn’t she?

“Minnie,” he calls out softly, hoping this doesn’t turn into a game of hide and seek. “Where are you?” 

He turns in place, trying to remember if he left his phone on the table or on the couch. The battery is in the forty percent zone, and he’d rather save it than use it as a light source. He’s pretty sure he was told there are flashlights under the sink, but he can’t remember if it was the kitchen or bathroom sink. 

He decides to try the kitchen sink first and blindly makes his way there. He admittedly doesn’t have the best vision anymore and his eyes are taking forever to adjust to the meager amount of light, so he has to move slowly.

“Will you read me Lady and Tramp?” a tiny voice suddenly asks from right beside his knee and Foggy totally doesn’t scream.

“You totally need a bell,” he tells the child before rubbing at his face with his candle free hand. “If you help me find a flashlight, I can read to you.”

The noise of annoyance Minnie makes is right from Matt’s playbook, “why do you needs a flashlight?”

He wonders if this is the first power outage she has experienced, but if that was so, he doubts he would have been told where the flashlights were. Though, Minnie’s mom is a bit paranoid and anxious, so it could have been a ‘just in case’ thing, but who really knows.

It is a question for later. Right now, he has an annoyed toddler ready to bite his ankles over Lady and the Tramp.

“It’s too dark for me to read,” he tries to explain, hoping she will accept the answer. 

She doesn’t.

Instead, he gets sassed.

“It’s not dark.”

“It is, too,” he counters. 

He can perfectly picture little hands-on hips as she doubts him, “Not-uh.”

He resists the urge to say ‘uh-huh’ and attempts to rationalize with her, “Mouse, I can barely see past my nose. It’s too dark for me to read to you without a flashlight. Can you help me find one?”

He can just see her curly head of hair looking up at him and he doesn’t need to see her face to feel her judgement. With the huff so haughty it could rival Marci, Minnie plops down to the ground and drops something that sounds like a picture book in front of her. 

His suspicions are proved right when he hears the soft fluttering of pages. 

“El…ay..dee..why. El..ay..La! La..dee…Lay..dee..Lady!” Her little voice is full of frustration as she tries to sound out the word Foggy knows she can’t really see and his heart pangs in sympathy.

“Minnie, don’t strain your eyes. Let’s just find a flashlight, it’s too dark to read.”

“I want Lady and Tramp!” The little Murdock barks at him, “I can reads it!” He hears what must be her finger hitting the page and he pictures her trying to trace the words. “La..La..lady. Lady. wuh…wuh..double-you ay ess. Wuh…Wuh-ah…Wuh-ah..”

“Was?” he tries to supply, feeling so guilty. He should just step away and find the flashlight before she really hurts her eyes, but he doesn’t want to leave her when she’s getting into a mood, even if it’s a few feet.

Apparently, helping is not what she wants, because he instantly gets her tiny wrath, “I can reads it myselfs!”

Foggy’s hands shoot up in front of him in the universal ‘my bad’ pose and he apologies, “I’m sorry. Let me get the light and we can read together.” He decides, if anything, he’ll just go grab his phone and waste the battery. Anything is better than upsetting Minnie the first time he properly babysits her. She’ll never want to stay with him again and he’s pretty sure Matt would easily bend to her will. 

“But I can sees it!” She practically yells it at him, her voice getting wet and wobbly. There is a hint of desperation in it that makes Foggy feel like an absolute villain for not believing her. “I can sees it and reads it by myself!”

He gives up on trying to convince her and pivots to go to get his phone. As he carefully steps around her to find his way back to the couch, she picks up her watery ‘reading’ again.

“La..Lady wuh-was a…Lady was a..el..el you..el you see kay…”

Foggy locates his phone on the coffee table and it wakes up as soon as he picks it up. The light hurts his eyes, and he has to look away so he isn’t blinded by it. 

Daddy Bear looks up at him from his interrupted coffee table date, beady little black eyes hidden behind red lenses and so suddenly, with enough force to cause him mental whiplash, Foggy feels like a complete idiot. 

He turns to shine his phone on Minnie, who is hunched over her book, trying her very best to sound out the words. 

“See..Kay…Luh…Luh..see..kay..why..Luh see kay why.”

She is trying to read the word ‘lucky ’he realizes. He knows kids can memorize stories, but there’s no way such a little baby can memorize how to spell all the words and pretend to read them out loud. 

But this isn’t just any normal little baby. 

This is Matt Murdock’s little baby. 

Matt Murdock - who has enhanced senses and passed them on. 

Matt Murdock - who is blind and wouldn’t know what it would be like to have enhanced eyesight. 

“Holy shit,” Foggy says to himself. “She’s got dark vision.”

--

a/n :

i'm sorry, this chapter fought me so much. Foggy refuses to cooperate with me :( this is nothing like i was planning and I kinda hate it

--

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13 @hashcakes

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday @midnightwonderlan

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets @buckyssugarchick

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

[sttoru]

i think toji would definitely tease reader about her oral fixation… like he would take his c*ck out but won’t let reader suck it and shit lollllll

DO NOT TOUCH

sypnosis. toji decides to not let you have your way this time: no touching or sucking him off until he allows you to.

note. anon.. you’re sooo right, this started off as a drabble but it quickly turned into more than that mannnne toji fr got me in a chokehold istg, hope u enjoy though cus i added some more stuff + this is not proof read so excuse any bad grammar mwah

tags. dom!toji x female reader. age gap (reader early 20s, toji 30s), pwp, implied blow jobs, teasing, male masturbation, cum play, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl, doll,’ toji’s a real meanie :>

all you wanted was to give toji what he deserved after a long day at work: a good and stress-relieving blow job. you’ve always enjoyed pleasuring your lover since it gave you the satisfaction you longed for; to have his cock deep inside your mouth, sucking and slobbering all over it while his low groans and grunts filled the room.

and yet, there you were now, sitting on your knees in front of toji whose green eyes were glued to the television instead. there was a subtle, lopsided grin on his face as he acted like he didn’t seem to care about what you were needing to do.

that man knows how much you like to suck him off. you’d do it whenever toji gave you the chance—which was almost every other day. he can never say ‘no’ to your desperate begging and especially not if those pleas involve your nasty desires to satisfy him. it made you look kind of pathetic, but the good kind. the kind of pathetic that made toji’s cock swell in his pants.

on most days, he would let you get to work immediately and shove his cock all the way into your wet mouth, though today was different. toji stopped you mid-way before you could have any physical contact with his dick that was now on display—pre-cum just begging to get licked off.

toji told you to have some patience and let him finish the show he was watching. it wasn’t even a show he was interested in; he just used that excuse to tease you as you sat there, wiggling and squirming impatiently between his legs.

“toji, please?” you pout as you nudge his thick thigh, feeling the muscles tense up ever so slightly, “can i? please?”

“no is no, princess.” toji mutters absentmindedly, one of his hands starting to stroke his hard cock in deliberate movements, “let me watch my show and i’ll consider y’r offer afterwards, yeah?”

toji’s thumb slid over the tip, rubbing the slit a bit, spreading the leaking pre over the flesh while he continued to act like he was watching the boring show. truth be told, that man had been looking at you through his peripheral vision this entire time.

toji loved torturing you in such ways. it brings him the greatest of satisfaction since he’s able to witness how desperate you could get if he didn’t allow you to suck him off.

his elbow was propped against the back of the couch, head leaning on one hand while the other continued to touch his cock in painfully slow motions as if toji wanted to let you see every single detail— from how his cock twitched in his hand to the way his calloused fingers were gliding over the length.

“such a good little girl,” toji whispers in a low tone, eyes flickering down to look at you. you were so focused on his cock, mouth watering and eyes seemingly in a trance which you couldn’t break free from, “y’re patient, ain’t ya? i wonder if you can keep that up ‘til i finish.”

you shake your head twice and look up at toji with a pout, “wanna taste it, please? wanna have you cum down my throat.”

your dirty talk never fails to rile toji up, however the need to tease you overwhelmed his desires of letting you have your way. as much as toji wants to see you swallow all of his hot cum while your mouth was still stuffed full of his length, he also wants to see your yearning and powerless self.

“what if i don’t let ya?” toji mocks, using his free hand to lift your chin up, thumb rubbing over the skin so you could stare him, “what if i wanna cum on that pretty face of yours instead?”

his green orbs darkened a bit as the image of your cum-covered facial features flashed before his eyes. toji speeds up the pace and starts to jerk himself off even faster, wanting to make that imagination of his a reality. toji doesn’t care in the slightest that you were trying to sugarcoat him into letting you fulfill your own needs;

“mhm, but i wanna taste you.” you mumble as your gaze falls back down on toji’s fat cock, the tip swollen and the skin of it moving back and forth simultaneously with his hand motions.

toji simply grins at you. you were so insistent and demanding, yet also looked extremely submissive and powerless on your knees for him. it was cute to see you try and act like you were the one who orders him around.

“is that an indirect order that i hear, little girl?” toji hums in amusement as the fingers of his free hand brush over your lips, “i hope it isn’t, because i’ll do what i want.”

a small pause intensifies the tension between you two— the clash of desires visible in both of your lust-filled eyes. the older man licks his lips whilst scanning your appearance, his focus lingering on your small hands that were resting on his thighs, nails slightly digging into the skin to prevent them from reaching out to grab his dick and put it in your mouth.

toji would’ve never guessed that you’d be this needy for him when he met you a couple months ago. in his mind you were this younger, shy and innocent-looking girl that seemed like she didn’t have much experience in the sexual department. little did he know that the shyest people had the wildest thoughts.

“and what i want right now,” toji finally continues as he felt the pleasure building up to its peak, “is to cum on your face.”

protests were about to spill from your lips, however there was no time to do so as toji roughly held your face in place— grunting and groaning your name as his entire body tensed up to reach that release, “fuckkk— ‘m gonna cum whether ya like it or not.”

the moment you shut your eyes tightly, is also the moment it happens; you felt spurts of hot cum spill and coat your face entirely. the sticky fluid dribbled down your forehead, nose, cheeks and chin.

toji breathed heavily, chest heaving and dick still twitching as the long ropes of cum turn into small drops that trail down his length. and as expected: finishing all over your face was definitely worth it.

“lick it off, doll.” toji commands through a mean grin and you instantly do as told. you stick your tongue out, gather any cum that got on your lips and the corners of your mouth before using your finger to collect all that’s left over.

“that’s enough of a reward for ya.” the older man adds as he quickly grabs a tissue from the nearby coffee table to clean the mess between his legs—not even giving you one since the scene in front of him was too pretty to erase.

toji lifts his boxers back up, sighs in relief and focuses back on the television screen with a bored expression. you frown as you licked the last bits off your fingers and helplessly tug at toji’s boxers; a futile attempt to get his attention back. toji wasn’t going to give you any of it until he decides to.

and right now, all he cares about is catching small glimpses of your pretty, cum-covered face every now and then. your lover had zero intentions of allowing you to suck him off. in fact, he might even start masturbating to the sight of you once more, just to tease and drive you insane;

“how ‘bout i cum on your tits this time?”

maybe he’ll stuff your mouth full afterwards. just maybe.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

So, concept for a dark SBI au with that trope I mentioned about SBI literally 'humanizing' Techno.

All of SBI are superheroes. They work for the hero association.

Phil is the oldest on the team. He joined the hero association very early on, wanting to be part of something genuinely exciting and new. And he got to witness firsthand how the association started out with such good intentions, but quickly went the way of all operations that have government and money involved. Despite this, he stays on. Because he wants to make a difference.

Wilbur, his only son, followed in Phil's footsteps. He's a bit of a 'the ends justify the means' guy and does the hero work mostly because he thinks it's fun, but Phil is just proud his son is having a good time while also helping people.

Tommy, youngest on the team, is a real hero. He wants to save people. He's excitable and eager and quick on his feet, and was put in the team because he needs more experienced heroes to balance him out and learn.

And then there's Techno.

Techno is a little different, in that he never chose to become a hero willingly like the other three did. He was raised to be one (think baby experimented on by the association to give him powers, or perhaps just an orphan who was taken in by them when he showed potential). Techno doesn't mind being a hero, he's good at it. He has a strong sense of justice, he's competitive, he likes the hero work itself. It's just that being a hero is also all he's ever known.

The association raised him to be their strongest weapon, their greatest asset.

SBI is pretty insubordinate at times, and cut corners when it comes to the association's protocol. While they deliver good work they also like to do it their way. The association places Techno in their team as the fourth member, hoping that Techno's general sense of duty and calm-under-pressure attitude will do SBI some good.

They will come to regret this decision.

All four of them grow close, and over the span of a few years turn into more of a found family than coworkers. And as this happens, it becomes impossible for SBI not to notice how the association treats Techno differently. He's often pushed harder, and reprimanded worse when things do go wrong. He overworks himself and has been taught to never ask for help, preferring to deal with stuff by himself, even when injured or sick. He's stubborn as a mule too, so he'd never admit this was an issue. When Techno isn't working with them, he's either doing other stuff for the association or training. Techno has no life outside of hero work.

Techno does admit sometimes in conversation that there's other stuff he'd like to do. Maybe in another world where he does not have these powers, he'd be a history or English major. He'd like to try fencing, or gardening, or the violin. He'd read more.

But it is what it is.

SBI disagrees, and try to push Techno (unsuccessfully) into thinking about himself more. The more they start to see Techno as a person, the more it seems like the association doesn't.

Eventually, Phil even goes all the way to the top, complaining to the higher-ups about Techno's situation. They smile wryly, and suggest that maybe Phil has reached an age where hero work isn't for him anymore. He should take their offer of early retirement, before an incident happens and forces Phil to be dishonorably fired.

Phil is outraged, but he does take the offer because he has no choice. Wilbur and Tommy quit on the spot, equally pissed. They want to find Techno and convince him to do the same, but there's a small issue.

Techno doesn't have the same type of contract as them.

While SBI can leave, Techno can't. The hero association owns him in all ways that matter.

Obviously, the association is also quick to kick SBI out and cut off all contact. They tell Techno that Phil asked them to retire because he didn't want to be a hero anymore. And that Tommy and Wilbur chose to quit, not wanting to be on the same team as Techno without Phil around. Techno is very confused. Especially as not long after, SBI returns... as villains.

Now Techno feels confused AND betrayed.

Meanwhile, SBI will stop at nothing to get Techno back, even if it means gradually slipping further and further into villainy. They're completely disillusioned with the hero association anyway. Techno is strong, outpowering even all three of them. It takes a lot for them to finally kidnap Techno after several failed attempts. And when they do, Techno is going to fight them every step of the way. Not to mention the hero association is not going to let them take their treasured weapon easily.

Techno keeps insisting that they're in the wrong, that he'll get away from them, that being a hero is all he's good for, all he's made for. As long as he has these powers, he has an obligation to use them and be a hero.

SBI agrees.

As long as Techno has these powers, he will never be free. He'll never stop seeing them as a duty, and the association will never stop trying to take Techno from them.

Good thing that they've been working on a little something. A serum that will nullify Techno's powers forever. And then he doesn't have to worry about a thing anymore. SBI will take care of him.

Losing his powers is the only way Techno will be happy, even if he doesn't realize that himself.

As they prepare to inject him, they tell Techno what they're about to do. Techno is angry and horrified, and tells them that if they do this, he will never forgive them.

Phil just smiles and says that's a risk they're willing to take.

[thenationofzaun]

Flashbacks in Arcane

Remember the flashback cold opens in many episodes of Arcane Season 1? Each flashback was focused on a specific main character, and it provided further context for the character's arc or their storyline in that particular episode. Examples: Episode 1 - Vi and Jinx on the Day of Ash, Episode 2 - Jayce and the mage, Episode 3 - Silco drowning, Episode 5 - Caitlyn and Grayson, Episode 6 - Viktor and the toy boat, Episode 8 - Mel and Ambessa. The only ones that didn't have them are Episodes 4, 7, and 9. What's interesting is there was originally supposed to be a flashback of young Ekko attempting to rescue Powder from Silco, only to discover she goes by Jinx now and doesn't want to leave him. This flashback was cut and instead, we got the Misfit Toys music video in episode 7. Little did we know this was foreshadowing for Season 2 doing away with flashbacks completely and going full throttle on flashy musical montages at the expense of storytelling. So here are some flashbacks I would liked to see in Season 2:

- That same Jinx and Ekko flashback. Since they removed it from Season 1, they really should have included it in Season 2. Rather than an AU episode of Ekko romancing a different version Powder, he should have had more organic development with the Jinx we actually know. Grappling with the past of her rejecting him for Silco, then the present of her warring with Piltover and gaining followers, and debating whether he should ally with her against topside. Whether he can bring himself to after everything she's done. Give the Firelights a voice too. Have them all have differing opinions, with some of them taking Sevika's stance (topside is the real enemy) and others being more reluctant (Jinx has killed too many of us, we can't ever forgive her). Of course, this would require Ekko to be involved with the sisters' and Piltover vs Zaun storylines rather than fucking off to deal with the Hexcore and multiverse mumbo jumbo.

- Caitlyn and her mother. Considering how much grief over Cassandra plays a role in Caitlyn's arc this season, there should have been scenes of them actually bonding. All their screentime in Season 1 showed a strained relationship with not a single happy moment between them. Then in Season 2, she only tells Jayce about how they used to go to their secret garden together and it's one of the few places they never fought. Would have been nice to actually see that.

- Vi's time in prison. For a character that was going to join the enforcers and throw other Zaunites in jail, her own past of being imprisoned by an enforcer should have been relevant. I would have liked to see a young Vi fresh after the events of S1E3, thrown into a cell and desperately fighting to get out. Show us a time lapse, how after multiple escape attempts and the subsequent beatings and torture, her resolve broke. Show how present Vi is actually affected by prison trauma. Show us how she reconciles her past with becoming an enforcer in the present. This show acts like Vi went on vacation to the Bahamas during the S1 timeskip. That's how irrelevant her time in prison is treated.

- Jinx being raised by Silco. Jinx spends this season mourning Silco and debating whether to continue his mission of fighting Piltover for Zaun's independence. Would have been nice to see her reminisce on her past with him - him lecturing her about the Nation of Zaun, encouraging her to keep developing her talents, telling her to believe in her own strength, reassuring her that she isn't worthless. Was thinking it'd be cute for it to take place in his underwater lair with him showing her the shark-like monsters and telling her how beautiful he finds them, then cut to her holding Fishbones in the present.

- Jayce and Viktor's bond. This was the season of Jayvik divorce and remarriage. Also the season of Hextech Getting Out Of Hand. Would have been cute to see their past working together on the early days of Hextech. And how for a long time they were the only ones who understood each other and each other's only real friend. "Remember the Innovator's Competition?" :')

Of course for all this to work, a lot of shit would have to be cut from this season and the plot would have to be focused on Piltover vs Zaun.

[wisteria-lodge]

And now for a HP fandom question - do you have any thoughts on queercoding in the series and if JKR ever actually intended it, and then backtracked, or if it was always completely unintentional? I'm thinking specifically about Lupin and Tonks (as individuals, not as a ship) Inspired by your post about the intention vs how fans perceived Draco Malfoy. Thanks!

So the first thing I want to do is make a distinction between femme-coding and queer-coding. They're tropes with very similar histories, and a lot of works treat them as the same thing. But Harry Potter doesn’t, and I think we can chalk this one up to JK Rowling’s habit of grabbing aesthetics and visuals without really thinking through the history behind them. 

(Like - the goblins. She says she didn’t mean to write an antisemitic thing, and I actually do believe her. But did she use a lot of tropes and images with a long history of being tied to antisemitism? yes.)

So when I say “femme” I mean giving a male character traits stereotypically associated with femininity. Heightened sensitivity/emotionality, an interest in hair, clothes and being attractive, a love of lace/pink/frills, a dislike of violence and physical confrontation, and a preference for the soft power of manipulation, character assassination and poison - versus the hard power of direct confrontation and physical prowess. Are these things super stereotypical? Yes. But they’re ALSO traits you see all the time on male villains, especially ones that you don’t want to seem that threatening. Femme-coded villains show up a lot in children’s media, or as the Big Bad’s #2. They’re not meant to be heroic or sympathetic (since all these feminine traits are not desirable, especially for guys.) But they also aren’t scary, and you can pretty much always play them for comedy. 

For example: see almost every male Disney villain. And JKR was writing children’s literature in the 90s, so of course she’s pulling from the same zeitgeist as the Disney Renaissance. 

JKR loves herself a femme villain. The absolute gold standard is of course Lockhart - who wears pink, wants to start his own line of hair care products, is self-centered, vain, obsessed with popularity… but he sucks in a fight. His entire MO involves manipulating people into thinking he has these traditional masculine qualities when he just doesn’t. But there’s also fussy, prissy Percy wearing his prefect badge on his pajamas. Bitchy, emotional mean-girl poisoners Draco and Snape (especially early book Snape - which is Snape at his most villainous.) Draco, Percy and Snape are also unusual for being male characters who we see crying for reasons other than grief (apparently the only truly acceptable reason for masculine crying). 

Lucius Malfoy is an interesting case because he starts off quite masc. He’s threatening to curse people, the governors are scared of him, etc. But, as the books go on… and he gets less powerful… he also gets more femme. When we meet him in Book 5 he’s no longer threatening people, but bribing them, spreading rumors, and giving interviews to the Prophet casting Arthur Weasley in a negative light. He's also getting really into peacocks. In Book 2 he was a major threat, but as he gets recast as Voldemort’s #2 he becomes a more femme, soft-power villain. When he leads the attack on the Department of Mysteries, he absolutely bungles it, which defines his character (and relationship with Voldemort) for the rest of the series. And it makes sense that Lucius is given this kind of treatment! It’s a way of communicating that there's a new villain in town, a real villain. 

So, are any of these femme-coded villains additionally queer-coded? I’m actually going to say no. Queer-coding is (like it says on the tin) finding ways to imply that your character is specifically gay. Like maybe giving them a same-sex relationship that is written romantically, but not explicitly called out by the text. Or pairing up all of the characters except them. Maybe have other characters joke about them being gay, and use that as a way to talk about the subject with some plausible deniability. Or they could just play suggestively with a cigar, or a walking stick. There are different strategies.  

But Lockhart doesn't get any of that. Honestly, I think that if JKR actually thought of him as gay, she would have been a lot more wary about a scene where he keeps Harry alone with him in his office for way longer than he’s supposed to. And she might have skipped this joke: 

“Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf (...) “Nice loud howl, Harry — exactly — and then, if you’ll believe it, I pounced — like this — slammed him to the floor — thus — with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat (...) he let out a piteous moan — go on, Harry — higher than that — good —” 

Like. At least she would have picked a different word than “moan,” right? Which unfortunately has slightly sexual connotations. Especially if she wanted to keep Lockhart a buffoon, to properly set up the twist at the end. 

Slughorn also gets femme-coded in a similar way: he loves his candy, his parties, his smoking jackets, his lilac silk pajamas, his web of connections he can use to get stuff (Lucius style.) We are introduced to him squatting in specifically a “fussy old lady’s” house. He’s also unusually emotional, getting weepy at Aragog‘s funeral. But I don’t think we’re meant to read him as actually gay, or else his relationship with Tom Riddle might’ve read a little too close to Tom seducing/trying to seduce him. Which is a beat JKR does subtly play out with Hepzibah Smith, but idk. by that point at least Tom is a legal adult.

(As a side note - the Harry Potter series got so lucky that all of its adult characters are played by absolutely top-shelf actors who are aware of the connotations and history behind various symbols, and do consider these things in their performances. Kenneth Brannagh and Jim Broadbent are good enough to make sure there’s not even a hint of iffy subtext when they play Lockhart and Slughorn. Also, Emma Thompson took the potentially very problematic character of Trelawney and made her cute and sympathetic… and not Romani in the slightest.) 

Draco, Snape, and Percy all have a case of the not-gays. Percy has a girlfriend (we don’t really see her or anything, but we’re told she’s there.) Snape of course gets his whole thing with Lily, and Draco… after one too many beats where it’s clear that Pansy is into him, but he’s not into Pansy…  gets a scene where he’s talking to his buddies with his head in her lap. (JKR uses “no one‘s good enough for me” beats with Blaise, Draco and Sirius, and the idea there seems to be more that they have undeservedly high opinions of themselves, and less that they don’t like girls.)

But, I do agree that a lot of JKR's characters do come across as a little more queer than intended. It boils down, I think, to the general lack of any kind of romance in the Harry Potter books and JKR being generally bad at/uncomfortable with writing male attraction directed at women, BUT being perfectly happy writing attraction directed at pretty guys. And because of that… yeah, it can sometimes feel like maybe Harry has a thing for Cedric. Especially when Dudley goes on to tease him about Cedric being his boyfriend, which I believe is the only actual mention of gay people in the entire series.  

So is there any intentional queer-coding in the book? It’s really subtle, but yes. I think Dumbledore is queer-coded. He is unusually emotional/cries unusually often for a Rowling guy. He is also given a scene which emphasizes his “flamboyantly” cut plum-velvet suit, and his relationship with Grindelwald is implied to be romantic for one book and two movies before being actually confirmed in Fantastic Beasts 3. (With the line of dialogue “I was in love with you.” Big step up from “We were closer than brothers.” which is an odd thing to say about someone you are interested in romantically.) 

But you brought up Tonks and Lupin, two characters very commonly interpreted as queer. So let’s get into that. JKR has said that she considers Lupin’s lycanthropy to be a metaphor for stigmatized diseases like AIDS. And… as incredible as it is to say… I actually do not think that she made the jump from there to thinking that maybe the character suffering from AIDS should be gay.

Because the narrative places so much weight on Lupin being bitten young and then on maybe not being allowed to attend school, I’m pretty sure that he’s not intended to be queer so much as he’s meant to be Ryan White, the literal poster child for AIDS activism who got infected via blood transfusion when he was two. Tragic, absolutely. But not gay. Honestly, I hope JKR was thinking of ‘lycanthropy’ as a metaphor for stigmatized illness in the abstract and not as a comment on gay people specifically. Because otherwise, Greyback’s thing about biting children becomes a mash-up of two of the biggest homophobic boogeymen from the 80s: gay men infecting people with AIDS on purpose because… idk, they hate the world or something. And the influence of gay men somehow “turning” children gay. Both absolutely real, if ridiculous, moral panics.

On top of that, Remus and Sirius do get a pretty clear case of the not-gays early on (“He embraced Black like a brother.”) Buuuut Alfonso Cuarón did think through those implications for Movie 3, absolutely saw Lupin as gay, and directed David Thewlis to play him accordingly. No reports confirming or denying whether Alfonso Cuarón ships Wolfstar, but I think that if I’m an actor trying to make sense of Lupin’s motivations… and I know he didn’t show Dumbledore the Marauders’ Map and didn’t tell anyone Sirius was an animagus… and then I’m told my character is gay… well. Anyway, I think there are absolutely hints of Wolfstar in that performance. 

And there's Tonks. Tonks is introduced during a very spooky segment in Book 5: Harry has been going through it, been left alone at the Dursleys while having what sounds like a depressive episode. It’s dark, he hears intruders. It's a really good piece of writing. But JKR knows that it’s the good guys who are coming and thinks, okay. Let’s make that as clear as possible from the word go. And so the first thing Harry sees is Tonks' pink hair. And what kind of person has pink hair? A young adult. A punky young adult. And what power would a teenager think was cool? Well, the ability to change the color of their hair at will. That, by itself, would have worked perfectly fine for this character.

But then (for reasons best known to herself) JKR goes further. Even though Tonk’s hair changing color is easily 90% of the transformations we see and there is no plot reason her appearance needs to change more than that, we see her drastically change her age and body type. When you think about this power for more than five seconds, it becomes kind of OP. For worldbuilding reasons alone, my instinct would’ve been to tone it down a bit. 

But no, we have this counterculture character who seems interested in her career and not in a relationship, who can easily change anything about her body, and (if her ability works anything like Polyjuice) that means she should definitely be able to change her gender. Cool.

Then, in everyone’s least favorite romance, Tonks and Lupin are paired up. I have heard the argument that this was meant to walk back queer-coding, or to punish people who thought they were queer... but I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t think JKR expected these two to be fan favorites, and then was kind of surprised when everyone wanted to hear about their continuing adventures. 

(There are a handful of characters who JKR clearly really enjoys - and really enjoys writing - that fandom honestly could not care less about. Mundungus Fletcher and Ludo Bagman spring to mind. But the reverse is also true. She had one story for Lupin and people wanted to see more. Tonks is probably supposed to be her comment on immature young adults: she is loud, in your face, causes mild destruction and is “a little annoying at times.” But the fans fell in love with her.) 

So JKR has these two fan favorite characters and nothing for them to do. A romance is something for them to do. JKR also has a kind of weird pattern where good people need to either have kids or take care of kids. It’s not good to be a woman who isn’t involved with taking care of children in some fashion: see Rita Skeeter, Dolores Umbridge, Bellatrix Lestrange. This is also (I think) why Harry names his kids specifically after Severus, Sirius, and Albus. Since they’re good men, JKR had to find a way to give them kids after the fact. 

So yeah. I think we were meant to read Tonks and Lupin having a kid as kind of a reward, or at least as proof of their intrinsic goodness. There also just isn’t another guy in the right age range to ship Tonks with. The only other option is Sirius. 

(Harry in the books and Lupin on Pottermore both suspect that Tonks/Sirius is a thing. Completely forgetting, I guess, that they're cousins.)

[sunshine-zenith]

I mean. If A New Wish takes place roughly 20 years after the original series (which seems to be the case since Vicky was 16 in the original and is said to be 36 here), then wouldn't Peri be RIGHT at college age?? Why is he immediately going into childcare instead of spending some time partying at the club.

Like I kind of get why he keeps getting distracted by his parents- he literally hasn't seen them in years and there doesn't seem to have been any contact between them during that period. Who was raising him while Cosmo and Wanda were gone. Is he still the only fairy born within the past ten thousand years. Did he cope at all with suddenly losing his brother forever, or is he just repressing it like he's apparently subconsciously been doing with Vicky and who knows what else. Peri and Dev can go to therapy together

This ask got me seriously thinking about the timeline between FOP and FOP:ANW, especially in relation to the Cosma-Fairywinkles

So Wanda and Cosmo’s ten thousand year long vacation obviously involved time travel, and from how both Wanda and Peri words things, it sounds like he wasn’t there with them, at least for the last part of it — she specifically says they lost track of him during those ten thousand years and he specifically call it their (his parents’) vacation, not our vacation. That said, this trip, again, obviously involved time travel, meaning that while ten thousand years passed for Cosmo and Wanda, they might’ve only been gone for a few months for Peri. While that’s still a super long time, given how old Cosmo and Wanda are, it might not be that long for them (ex I was talking about school timelines with an older coworker, and she said that while an extra year is a long time for someone in their 20s, like me, for someone in their 40s-50s like her it’s nothing)

That said, even if the vacation wasn’t that long from Peri’s perspective, Peri specifically notes he hasn’t seen them since they got back from it — we don’t actually know how long Cosmo and Wanda were living as a “normal retired human couple” but it’s been long enough that they at least know some of the local celebrations (the lightbulb-ice cream parade)

Wanda and Cosmo don’t seem like the type of people to abandon/neglect their kid, especially after something as presumably tragic and traumatic as their sibling completely forgetting about them, so I’m just gonna assume that they either didn’t start their vacation until Peri was old enough to be on his own, or that they took Peri with them and Peri broke off from them early on when he reached the age of majority

Cosmo specifically notes the year 2001, which is a reference to when the original show started airing. This also technically establishes 2001 as the year Peri was born, since Timmy doesn’t age over the course of the series (ignoring timeline shenanigans from later in the series that ended up being reversed anyway) (also Peri is officially Gen Z rep)

I’m gonna say that ANW takes place in 2023-2024, since that’s when it was animated/aired, so about 22-23 years from the original series, which works with Vicky being said to be in her late 30s-early 40s and AJ looking to be in his early 30s (plus for all the fantastical elements these shows include when history is concerned — ie every they do with dinosaurs — this writers do seem fond of establishing political events in the series as matching the real world — ie Cosmo getting emotional over Obama and wanting to go back to those days. Establishing the show as being 2024 instead of 2021 gives enough distance in universe from quarantines that the writers can get away with not mentioning it. If it was meant to be set in 2021, I feel like the writers would include some kind of reference — a throw away line establishing it as something that did/didn’t happen in universe)

We don’t know how fairies age, how long it takes them to reach the age of majority, but yeah, Peri just feels very Young Adult coded, and him being 20-23 just kinda works with his character. He comes off as someone fresh out of school working their first real job and being blindsided by how different it is from what he expected/studied. Assuming that he aged like a human up until adulthood and assuming that Cosmo and Wanda waited until he was old enough to study on his own (18) in a safe environment (a fairy academy presumably), that means it’s potentially been 2-5 years since he’s seen them and that he spent his adulthood/adult education without them — no wonder they still see him like a kid while he wants them to treat him like an independent adult, he was basically still a kid going off to school when they last saw him while he had years of his own to give the adult thing again (again, in a hard but semi-sheltered environment that would be a school in fairy world). It’s possible Cosmo and Wanda are overcompensating for the thousands of years they missed (for them)/missing important events like graduation (for Peri)

It makes me think of the fact that the writers specifically named the robots that care for Dev and fulfill his demands (ei what ends up being Peri’s job when he comes along) “au pairs” — an au pair is basically a cross between a foreign exchange student and a nanny, someone (typically a young adult) from a different country who moves in with a local family and helps take care of the children and house in exchange for a living situation, and many au pairs specifically take on the role while studying at a local university. That’s not too far off from what Peri/a Fairy Godparent’s role is

All that out of the way… yeah Peri should be in the club. BUT who would he even go out with? Yes he had similar aged peers in the original series (Foop/Irep and Goldie), but we don’t actually know if fairies started having kids again after he was born. If he had classmates as an adult, they would likely be fairies much older than him returning to school, so people he might not easily relate to

Thinking about it, it starts to make sense why Peri was given such a hard case for his first godkid — fairies can chose to go into retirement but for the longest time couldn’t have children, so there wasn’t anyone to take up the jobs they leave behind. In the original series there was a fairy godparent shortage that probably only got worse as fairies working that job got to the point of “okay, this is my last child, I’m done after this.” Peri was possibly one of the only fairy godparents available (who else would go to Dev? Cookie? The fairy still pissed off at Cosmo and Wanda and going after Hazel? Please, she’d probably refuse before even looking at Dev), plus he didn’t have anyone experienced to give him advice going into things, so he couldn’t, say, negotiate for an easier kid to start with or something before taking up the job

Peri is a young adult with almost no one to relate to, choosing a career that he views as “the family business” to make his parents proud, choosing a career he automatically has a unique relationship to because of the timing of when he was born and who he grew up with, who has a strained relationship with his parents because of years of (unintentional but still) no contact (not to mention the very real family loss of having their other kid/his big brother basically go away forever and completely forget about them in the process, which can’t be easy to navigate), who’s working a hard job with no experience and seeming no resources

He really was doomed from the get go, wasn’t he

[cypher-writer]

Yandere Emperor ✷

Male!Emperor x GN!Emperor!reader

Reader/Y/N refered to as They/Them but also as Emperor

Warnings: not very detailed gore, swearing, blackmail, manipulation, depictions of self harm (hair tugging from reader), yandere themes

Y/N is "insane/crazy"/mentally ill (Y/N is not in the right headspace throughout this entire story. They have multiple violent thoughts and outbursts and similar symptoms that could warrant in mental illnesses such as IED, BPD, PTSD or ASPD ((I am not a mental health professional)). If you have thoughts such as these depicted in the story try to reach out and talk to someone about your experiences and search for help! This story is not a diagnosis or confirmation that you have these mental illnesses either as these symptoms can be common in 'normal' life as well. Consult a professional for genuine concerns.)

Word count: 3.3k

There are books written of the unbelievable and inspiring rise of the L/N empire.

The way it was starting to diminish after it fell in the hands of your fathers rule and how every other land was already eyeing up the land you've harbored after many centuries of growing.

You remember sitting on a chair in the ballroom as your father swindled other women right in front of your eyes, partying as if everything's alright while you watched and could only count the days till some foreign kingdom wagered war and took over everything you held dear. The days were nigh, you knew it. But back then all you could do is sip tea and keep face.

Your poor mother had it the worst, gosh, you love her so. She was the best mother you could ask for and more. She spent her entire life caring and doting on you, raising you to be your very best self. You learnt from her and looked up to her. Something you wouldn't ever even think of doing to your father.

It was even worse knowing that that excuse of a blood relative would woo other women even if your mother was in the vicinity. You hated him. You hated him so much there isn't a word that could describe how much you truly loathed him, how much you wanted to strangle him every night for putting anyone in such pain.

In his eyes, it was fine, he was emperor after all, no?

That title he took for granted so easily was ripped away from him just the same. The same way his heart was ripped out and left beside his empty beer jug in a bloody mess that one night after he got too drunk to stumble back into his bedroom, landing in the gardens and perishing somewhere in the dusk. Truly devastating how the murderer was never caught.

The title would have then fallen momentarily onto your mother, but she took a bit of a mental hit from her husbands death (even if he was cruel) and just couldn't rule while grieving at the same time. There was an uproar of doubts from the townsfolk as they panicked of who would take care of their land next? You wondered the same, till everyone's eyes landed on you.

You, back then a teenager who did not plan to take over so early, but didn't mind in the end anyways.

You took the reigns as fast as possible and finally fixed what your father was too 'busy' to care about mending, upgrading the army, listening to the people's pleas and of course, continuing to progress in the growth of your empire, spreading further and further.

In no time you were known as a crazy tyrant, taking risks that have never been even thought of that before. Although, that wasn't the crazy part of 'crazy tyrant', no, the crazy part was that it all actually worked. Every chance was in your favor, somehow. You didn't know why either, but to be fair you did not care. If good luck was on your side you did not wish to bother it with endless questions.

The tyrant part was mostly a fancy noun to add onto the crazy. You weren't a cruel leader to your people, you cared for each one and took real responsibility in everything you had to he involved in, but you sure as hell were cruel in war. You didn't hold back, you didn't second guess. You took your sword and used the mastery of your hand to gain back the land that should have been yours already.

Emperor L/N, that was you. It was your title. It was your Empire, the biggest in the Fucking world.

And it might have gotten into your head a bit. Not as much as your father, but enough to make you crave the taste of another battle, the sound of swords clashing and the smell of blood. It made you giggle with only an itsy bitsy bit of insanity, nothing too dire, nothing your mother couldn't scold you back into a clear mind for.

Truly, it didn't matter how crazy you were on the battle field or what edgy names the people outside gave you, what mattered was that you were successful and could handle your temper just enough. And you could.

...

Till that bastard came into picture. Little Emperor Kingsley. The Nepo baby of the millennia. He was the golden child in everyone's eyes, the angel of our poor, unpure world. He had everyone around his finger, it was fucking ridiculous, really.

He grew up being perfect, so much so that his people thought he was some sort of Christ. He was worshiped. He was loved. And when he reached of minimum age, he was crowned emperor. Why? Because the people— and not just the townsfolk or anyone like that, multiple, whole empires— believed he would grace everyone with his touch and make the entirety of this shity world virtuous and moral again.

But when that letter came to your throne, that elegant writing stating:

"Dear L/N,

It is with the upmost kindness and hope that we ask you to join the newly forming union of 'aureum annum' —the golden year— to aid us in-"

You didn't read the rest as you ripped the letter up and told one of your servants to throw the shredded pieces into any furnace or campfire. You had your experiences with people who think too highly of themselves. And you don't want to meddle yourself in those affairs again. So, with your own better judgement you decided to just never respond. They should get the hint.

And it seemed for a little that they did... Till Kingsley informed that he wishes to visit and talk to you about Aureum annum. You scoffed, rolled your eyes, groaned and sighed as you held back to tearing this note up as well. Your mother strongly advised you to at least talk to them, what's the worst that could happen?

So much.

With annoyance and another eye roll, you replied with a sugarcoated reply:

'Dear Emperor Kingsley,

Why yes! Come in! Why don't you come here and let me tell you in person how much I want to shove that shit eating good for nothing perfection of yours up your a-'

yeah, in conclusion you were not happy and your mother wrote the letter instead.

You counted the days until the foreboding meeting, exhaling in irritation when you realize that, unfortunately, time will not freeze and delay the eventual rendezvous. The only thing you could do is slump slightly as you kept your mind distracted by training with your trusted and iconic sword.

You really don't have a good feeling about this. You really don't.

"Today's the day." Your mother's soft words broke the silence, her hands trailing over any creased surface of your fine clothing, smoothing them out and making sure they're up to making the best impression they could. You couldn't help but chuckle at your mother's worry, trying to hide it under her facade of cleanliness.

"Mother, something tells me you're more worried about this meeting than I am." You looked down at her, trying to comfort her with a gentle smile. She retracted her hands and clasped them before her chest, sighing as her gaze lifted to yours. "I only wish this meeting goes well and doesn't end in violence, Y/N."

Your mother has strict opinions on warfare and things alike that not even god could change: unnecessary and disposable. You respected them, but couldn't help the thrill victory gave you.

You placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to ease her thoughts. "I promise to be on my best behavior, I don't want this to end in anything bad either." You did your best to reassure her that you'd play nice, pretend to be kind and not what everyone assumes you are. Are you?

She reciprocated with the same feather-light smile as her hand traveled to the side of your face, eyes proud yet almost sad. They were like that since your fathers death, you can't blame her. You never can, you never would. You just wanted to make her happy and to take her out of the constant mild pain she's in; never too big to care, but not too small to ever ignore.

"You best go now, dear." She spoke, turning away. "It's best to be there early to greet the guest."

You watched her leave and huffed. You truly don't know how this will go. You don't know much about Kingsley even if there's countless praise on him in multiple books and stories. Because that's all it is, praise. Praise isn't the truth, even if it holds some real significance. When people describe you, they'd say you were a victorious monarch with a skilled swing, but you're also crazy and cruel in battle. Your flaws spilled like ink over every page. Kingsley, there was not a single bad word you could find in the thousands of words he was talked about in. He's not human if there's nothing bad about it. Do they really want you to believe he's never had a single bad thought in his life? Not a single flaw? Inhuman, that's what he is.

Walking down the halls of your huge castle gave you time to think over how you'll act. Should you shake his hand? Should you bow? Should you just glare? A frustrated humm left your throat as you made a turn to head towards the grand entrance of the palace. Should you put up an act or just be casual? He's definitely heard of you so it'd be much more suspicious if you were suddenly this sinless soul. Might as well just blend you personality with whatever his was. A balance of good and… yourself.

You suddenly realised you were at the main gates, standing next to the guards and servants that have come early as well, making sure to impress Emperor Kingsley with their service and punctuality.

"Are you ready, my Majesty?" Your personal servant stepped to your side, one arm bent behind his back as the other was fixed in front, a white napkin draped over it. You scorned and nodded. "As ready as I can be for mr. Perfect, I guess." Your butler only replied with a smile before resuming looking forwards, his back straightened. You mimicked his posture after realising that you were slumped over.

"They're arriving!" You heard a distant shout, presumably one of the guards that inspect the people entering your empire. You inhaled deeply, keeping the breath in as you saw the grand carriage move towards you and the group of people surrounding you. An unexplainable anger surged through you for no reason before disappearing as the barouche halted. The driver who once reigned the horses stepped off, chin high as he maneuvered to open the little door facing you. You stared as it was opened and a cloaked figure step close. You were quick to come close and offer a hand of help which the person accepted with a smile, making an exit out of the carriage with your assist.

"Emperor Kingsley." You greeted, bowing slightly, guessing that it's the most appropriate action in the moment, also making sure that your tone was sweet.

"Emperor L/N." Kingsley returned, bowing the same way. You noted his elegant clothing; gold and white tones complementing each other with its intricate embroidery, details that one would appreciate. You bet each stitch was sewn in with precision you could not care for, it was futile if it was gonna get ripped out in battle. But Kingsley did not engage in battle. You did wonder why he was cloaked, you could barely make out his face, only the lower part of it. Makeup was delicately painted on his face from what you could see, his lips having a slight golden shimmer to them and his cheeks having some sort of design on them. From the sides, blonde hair poked out, silky and smooth. You can see why people called him an angel, but was he really one or was it just an act?

Moments later, you found yourself leading Kingsley towards a room specifically prepared for you to talk about whatever he was here for. Pulling a cushioned and royal looking chair for him to sit on before going to the other side of the rectangular, short table to sit yourself.

"Well then,-" You spoke first, wanting to seem engaged even though you wanted him to leave as quickly as possible. What if he was here with mal intent? What if he wanted to murder you, or worse your mother? "-I suspect you have matters which you wish to discuss with me."

Kingsley nodded, finally taking off the hood. Grey eyes peered into yours, almost looking right through you. "Yes, Indeed I do."

His voice was soft like butter, smooth and calm. "I wish to talk about aureum annum. Specifically the event of your rejection to join."

Ah, you guessed this was about that. You couldn't avoid it any longer. But in all fairness, you thought they didn't have the courage to come up to you, especially not when you have the all too known title of 'Crazy Tyrant'.

"Oh, yes. Well, I am sure you have great and ingenious plans for the union but I prefer to rule over my empire without the need to talk to others and see how it affects them." You explained with the most docile voice you could snatch out of yourself, you shouldn't need to explain why you don't want to join. You just don't want to, end of story. "And I have already so much to worry and pay attention to that I fear having more responsibility might break me." You joked, earning a small chuckle from the man opposite of you.

"That is understandable." He hummed, nodding. "I should have guessed that a ruler like you would already have a lot on your shoulders. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, hm?"

You smiled, confirming this kind-heartedly.

"Though it'd be a shame if somebody found out about the true cause of your fathers death.."

What did he just say? are you mishearing?

"…What?"

He smiled. It wasn't kind or angelic, it was sinister, knowing, threatening.

"I know what really went down that day of your fathers unfortunate death, perhaps I should jog the memory, hm?"

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, dread overtaking you. But along the dread, anger started boiling inside your chest, burning at your heart. He couldn't know. How could he?

"You hated him didn't you? You absolutely loathed him. You couldn't handle the way he was neglecting his kingdom and going of drinking with other ladies." You couldn't hold back the scowl that etched onto your face as you listened to every honeyed word he would say, gripping the dagger you've attached under the table for emergencies.

"So, that one day, you decided that it was over with him. You lured his intoxicated self to the gardens and carved his heart out, ruining the inside of his body with that sharp sword you can't seem to let go these days, leaving him gargling and pleading for mercy. Of course, you were too far gone to hear them, weren't you."

You stood suddenly, fists slamming on the table, violence flooding your mind that you somehow held back by not strangling the last breath out of him and hanging his head above your fireplace. "Shut up! Shut-"

"You were scared afterwards. At least you convinced yourself to be, you didn't feel guilt or sadness, pain or remorse. No, you forced yourself to feel the ghost of them because your mother took the blow of the emotional damage." He continued to speak. His once butter smooth voice turned to that alike of a fork scratching a plate, or a grater trying to shred metal. Your hands went to your hair, tugging at the ends harshly, you grunted at the pain that failed to ground you.

"Y-you bastard! You sick fuck!" You shouted, closing your eyes for just a moment, only opening them when another pair of hands enveloped yours and forced them out of your locks. You looked up to see Kingsley, glaring down at you. "Stop that." He said sternly.

You grunted angrily as you shoved him away from you, breath uncontrollable and out of rhythm, eyes glazed over and threatening to fall. "Get away from me! What makes you think that just because you're some worshipped little cunt you can walk in here and say that stuff to me!" You shouted at him, pointing a finger at him. "I'll have you fucking murdered! I'll let your parents watch as I behead-"

"You think that'll work out for you in the end?" His voice returned to that irritatingly calm sound. "The kingdoms that have joined my union will cause an uproar and potentially wager war on you… Think about your mother, how would she react?"

She'd be devastated. She would cry and beg for you to resolve this like adult humans and not animals, she can't go through such an even again, knowing you might not come back that one time after riding off on your horse into battle. One day that sword will have your blood on it. And she would snap, break and then in the end whittle away into a shell of what she once was. That's how she would react.

"What do you want from me." You demand, hands falling to your sides and your shoulders tensing up as you made direct eye contact with Kingsley. He smiled, hands joining behind his back.

"All I want is for you to join the aureum annum…" He replied, an innocent grin on his face. "And I want to take your hand in marriage, Y/N."

Was he being serious? You could understand the aureum annum thing but marriage? Why does he want to marry you? To control you, to diminish whatever power you have and use it all for himself? No way, not again.

"You're joking." You scoffed, truly not believing his words.

"I'm not." His voice dropped and the genuinity of it frightened you, making your hands tremble in anger. "well then, dream on. You're more insane than me if you think I'd ever agree to your idiotic terms."

"Then I guess you also don't care if the news of how your father was murdered spread, right? I mean, I'm sure that you don't actually care what others think but what about dear mother?"

There he is using the 'think about your mother' card again. You hated how it worked. You hated how you know she wouldn't look at you the same. Would she loathe you the same way you loathed your father? would she refuse to acknowledge that you're her child?

Kingsley was no angel, he was no god. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing; a demon with clip-on angel wings that he so kindly decided to take off in front of you. He was your demon.

You glared at him, thinking of a loophole or a way to wriggle out of this situation but none came to mind, especially not when it was clouded with fear and rage. You were huffing and puffing, breath too heavy to ease.

"OH fine! But utter a word about this to anyone and I swear I'll call god herself to help me slay you!" You took hold of his collar, pulling you towards him. He was as nonchalant and as calm as ever. You wanted to murder him so bad right now, but the terrified face of your mother kept invading your mind.

"As you wish, my dear.."

This might get a part 2 if anyone asks for one, but for now this is just this :) If I made any mistakes in the story pls tell me because I am not a native english speaker! I also accept asks and requests so don't be afraid to ask anything :P have a great morning/day/afternoon/night <3

-Writer/Cypher

[sirfrogsworth]

I have a favorite photo.

It's the one I am most proud of.

It involved a lot of luck, but also required a lot of effort to capture.

I use it as the header for this Tumblr.

It was a foggy morning and I thought it looked spooky. My instincts were telling me I could get a unique image. I dragged out my lighting equipment and had Otis roam around in the yard. I set up my shot in an area I knew he would pass by. I didn't have wireless flash triggers yet, so I was using the little flash on top of my camera to trigger my big flash. But that doesn't work great outside. Typically it is meant to bounce off walls and ceilings so the external flash can see the light. I was trying to use a tiny mirror in front of my little flash to direct the light towards the big flash. But I kept getting the angle wrong and my flash was only firing once every few shots. I also kept missing focus as I was concentrating on too many things at once.

By all accounts, it would take a miracle to get the shot.

I should not have gotten a good shot.

But for one single frame... the fog, the sun, Otis, and my flash all cooperated.

I didn't even realize my efforts had worked until I loaded the files onto the computer. And the second this image popped onto my screen, my jaw dropped.

Up until this point I had never captured an image of this quality before. This was very early in my photography journey and I was still figuring things out. And I think seeing what was possible—what I was actually capable of capturing—that was the moment I was all in. The moment I wanted to be a "real" photographer.

This is the RAW file. The side of his face was a bit dark, but that is why you shoot in RAW. That is recoverable.

This is my original edit in 2013. The biggest thing that bothered me was the ear tips. I always wish I hadn't cut those off.

But thankfully technology has advanced enough that I can give Otis his full ears back.

And here is the remastered 2024 edition...

I used other images as reference to make sure the ear shape and size was perfect. And I also used another image of his Super Otis badge facing forward and comped that in.

Otis has a very specific shade of orange fur and it is very sensitive to editing. If you make him brighter, the orange changes to the wrong orange. If you make him darker, same thing. But I am hopeful I got that lovely orange fur pretty close to his actual coat.

I don't know if I would have fallen in love with this artform without this image. Or without Otis. He gave me so much in his short time in this world. I can never thank him enough for that.

[lurkingshan]

Hi Shan

I've been watching your commentary on Peaceful Property with regard to its mishandling of its class conflict themes and I have to admit that I'm coming to agree with you on it.

I had to basically go "Welp, I can't see how they get out of the mess they've made now - I guess I just have to give them a pass on the grounds of found family?" in order to keep enjoying the show, which did let me do that but also left a bit of an icky taste in my mouth.

So I guess I wanted to ask - do you think there's a way they could have handled the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully within the show's narrative? And also whether there are any QLs you would recommend that do handle the topic to your satisfaction? I could use something good to watch!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I feel like you always make me consider topics more deeply and reflectively, even when I don't agree with you.

Hi, thanks for dropping in! I feel you on this, and I want to be clear that my criticism of the show is not criticism of people who still like it despite these failures. If you have still been able to connect to the friendship and family themes without this getting in the way, that's great and I'm glad for you. Just because the show is doing one thing very poorly doesn't mean there's nothing of value in it.

That said, you're right, they've passed the point of no return on their missteps with the class disparity themes. Early on in the show, after several episodes in a row of ghost stories involving poor or working class folks harmed by Home's wealthy real estate developer family on top of the class disparity between Home and Peach/Pang, I said I was confident that the show had something to say about this issue. And that was true! Unfortunately, what it had to say was garbage.

To your first question, I actually think it would have been very easy for the show to handle the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully, and that's a big part of my frustration. They had all the ingredients--a family history of exploitation, a ghost busting team including working class folks to shed light on the family's sins, and an ignorant grandson uncovering wrongdoing case by case and learning that there was always a price for his privilege. All the show needed to do was allow Home to come to some natural realizations about his family's treatment of others, via both the ghost case work and his relationship with Peach and Pang, and then use the power and resources he has to take accountability in the form of restitution and reparations to the people and communities they harmed. My ideal story line based on what they set up in the first half of the show would have had Home setting out to right his family's wrongs and take real steps to restore the communities they harmed. Even if a full on wealth redistribution narrative was too much to hope for, at the very least Home should have been made to reckon with what his family did and set out to do better in the future, both by Peach and Pang and by his family's countless victims (including Kan).

But that's not what we got. Instead, the narrative tried to sell us on the idea that none of this is anyone's fault, and that any harm that came to people at this family's hands was the result of a "curse" or one bad apple's wrongdoing. Instead of saying anything meaningful about systemic inequality and the responsibility of the wealthy and powerful to avoid extractive and exploitative practices, they painted Home's Gramps and family corporation as benevolent, concluding that they destroyed a bunch of people's lives by accident and without intent or even knowledge. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how utterly absurd and insulting that is. On top of all that, despite Home being the one with the most power in this little friend family and making some very serious mistakes that caused harm to the others, the show consistently centered him and his feelings in all conflicts, including Peach's near death and the death of Kan's father and destruction of her community. It also ignored the very real stakes it set up for Peach and Pang's dire financial situation whenever the plot demanded. The second half of the show became all about the poor people Home and his family have harmed forgiving him without any accountability because they felt guilty he was sad, and then those same people spending their time and energy fighting to save this rich family's reputation and livelihood. That's not me offering an interpretation, that is what literally happened on our screens!

So yeah, it was bad! It was clear weeks ago that it was not going in the right direction, but I understand holding out hope that they'd pull a rabbit out of a hat or look into the camera and say sike. But that ship has sailed at this point, and Peaceful Property becomes another in a pattern of GMMTV shows that try to incorporate class disparity in their narratives and get it very very wrong.

Which brings me to your second question: are there any QLs I recommend that do this better? Yes! Here is a short list for other Thai shows that have genuinely done this better:

Moonlight Chicken: not a class disparity narrative, but the only GMMTV show to date that has depicted working class people with full dignity and empathy

Dark Blue Kiss: the only GMMTV bl to tell a romance story that involves class conflict and not completely bungle it (snaps to TayNew for having another show that did better on this)

My Ride: a slow burn romance between a doctor and a motorcycle taxi driver that gets the way their class disparity would shape their relationship right

Love Sea: this one isn't perfect (I think the working class character in the pair gets too little narrative attention relative to his rich counterpart) but it does take the class disparity seriously and ensures it informs the relationship the whole way through

Laws of Attraction: don't laugh at me, I'm serious! This show is mostly absurd but the core narrative is all about class conflict, and it informs the romance quite thoroughly, too

The Loyal Pin: including this one on the word of @twig-tea because I haven't watched yet, but I understand it's dealing with class very directly in its core relationship (with the disclaimer that it still has two episodes to go so something could go sideways)

I'd also throw in some shows that aren't really about class disparity but do include it as part of the narrative background to inform characterization and plot like I Told Sunset About You, Love By Chance, Khun Chai, and 3 Will Be Free

Outside of Thailand, South Korea is always a safe bet for strong class disparity narratives, and in QL you'll find the best examples in Hwang Da Seul's works (Where Your Eyes Linger, Blueming, To My Star 2, and currently Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo). Japan and Taiwan actually don't do much of this, because most of their shows are about middle class and working people as a rule. Miseinen, a Japanese BL that just started airing, looks to be tackling a class disparity narrative, though, and doing it well so far (not a coincidence that the source material is from Korea). And We Best Love is a classic Taiwanese BL with a significant class disparity informing the romance conflict. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is a currently airing Chinese BL that is doing a class disparity romance and has been killing it so far.

So there is my incredibly long answer to your questions! Thank you again for sending me this kind note; I'm so appreciative that we can chat about this stuff and still maintain our love for these shows. I hope you find some things you like on the rec list, as well. :)

[aliesbienish]

Love at first swipe

Benedict Bridgerton x fem reader. Modern Au.

Warnings: Cheesy AF. Innuendos.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cute smile. Check.

Kind eyes. Check.

Well written profile with no misogynistic undertones. Double check.

This guy must be to good to be true. Definitely a bot. Or married and cheating on his poor wife. Plus what girl hasn’t been screwed over by a ‘Ben’, maybe he’ll be yours.

Still against better judgement you swiped right on Mr. cute smile, and then called it a day. Closing tinder and setting down your phone, reluctantly getting up to make yourself dinner. Honestly having a partner to share the cooking load was just as appealing as the romance at this point.

Basic spaghetti made and glass of wine in hand you plopped back onto the couch to continue your next rerun of pride and prejudice, the tv show of course. At least you could always day dream of life with Mr Darcy, and if he was always looking like he just emerged from the lake then so be it.

Grabbing your phone to enter into some simultaneous mindless scrolling you saw a notification from Tinder pop up. Oh boy a new match. Maybe you needed more wine.

Of course you couldn’t help being intrigued, so you opened it up to see a new message from the definite robot himself.

Ben: Good evening [y/n], to what do I owe this pleasure?

You: Bit early to determine I’ll be a pleasure isn’t it?

I’m actually only here because I am convinced you are a bot and honestly chatting with a bot is almost guaranteed to be more exciting than chatting with a man.

Ben: I’m nothing if not optimistic. I promise I am not a bot. And before you say it; I know that it’s exactly what a bot would say but it’s also exactly what a human would say.

You: Touché. Alright Ben, prove it.

Ben: Do you interrogate all your matches or am I special?

You: You’re special. But don’t get sappy about it, I’m just suspicious that your profile doesn’t have a photo of you fishing or in front of a car.

Through many years of observation I’ve hypothesised that each human man must show one or the other.

Ben: And have you hypothesised why that may be?

You: It’s almost certainly something to do with their hunting and gathering skills. That or compensation.

Ben: And how was this concluded?

You: Well fishing is obviously a modern (and frankly boring) man’s hunting and gathering.Least amount of work and blood involved. These men want to prove they can provide, but will likely never actually do the real hunting and gathering ie. Grocery shopping.

Ben: Science seems sound. And cars?

You: Well that’s obvious. The bigger and shinier the car the smaller the 🍆.

Ben: I quite agree…but that might be because I own a mud covered beetle.

You: Haven’t you heard it’s best to keep expectations low?

Ben: And risk losing out? No thank you.

You: If you’re real, which the jury is still out, I’m sure that’s not an issue.

Ben: Still? I’m flattered. And while it may not be an issue let’s say why would I settle for bronze when I can have gold?

FYI that’s me saying I think you’re gold

You: thanks for the clarification. You’re really into calling this early aren’t you? 10 minutes and you’re obsessed.

Ben: It’s actually been about thirty minutes if you count when I first came across your profile and haven’t stopped thinking about you since.

You: That is either incredibly honest or an amazing line.

Ben: Oh it’s both. But first and only time I’ll use it, cross my heart.

You: So what next?

Ben: Coffee, tomorrow hopefully if that’s not too soon?

You: Tomorrows great. Meet in the city? Say Leicester Square at 11am?

Ben: Done. I look forward to it.

You: You’d better be real or I’ll hurt you.

You were standing in the square outside of the cinema, your agreed meeting place. Despite the anxiety in you wanting to call the date off you’d made it. It was likely a good thing you only had 24 hours or so to think about it. Ben had been funny and endearing and so damn sure he wanted to meet you. He seemed so lovely that it defied belief, but you were willing to suspend reality.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you spun around to come face to face with Ben. In the flesh, as handsome or in fact even more so than his profile photos.

You meet his eyes and suddenly you felt lost in them.

“Hi,” You muttered, a goofy smile plastering your face. “I’m [y/n]”.

“Hi back. My real names Benedict. But Ben is fine. Long story. It’s lovely to meet you properly.”

“Thank god we’re both real,” you laughed.

“To be honest I never had any doubt. When you know you know.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Maybe I’m just trying to manifest my own luck on the dating apps 🤷🏻‍♀️

[yuurivoice]

A few folks seem very intrigued by the somewhat vague pre-BitterSweet ideas I had for Seth I was discussing on stream last night (and a few times before that) so I'll share in my own words here as well!

Seth's embryonic stage was straightforward.

Create a sexy rival for Alphonse who shares a criminal history with him, and wants to use Boo as a means to fuck with Al. Biker bad boy who fucks. That was all there was in the beginning.

From there I considered doing the Good End, Bad End approach that would expand on a concept I tried out with early Alphonse, where Boo and him hooking up on their first night was a non-canon bad end. This would have been more of a Bad Path rather than just an end, a few audios where shit just gets real wild.

I don't remember a ton of specifics now, but long story short after meeting (not the same as episode 1 of BS) Seth would be a lingering menace stirring shit and taunting Al/Boo before ultimately kidnapping Boo and luring Alphonse to a remote location, something similar to a trainyard or warehouse, like the settings seen in BS3. The climax involved a gun, and an ambiguous ending where we're not sure who got got in the end.

Then, after I sat with it for a while and started hammering out what I wanted his introduction to look like, Seth was not becoming that character. I held on, thinking maybe it'll take shape, and then the "THEY WERE LOVERS!?" bit hit me and it really started to get some movement...and nowhere near the direction of Seth really being a menace.

Also, I find the whole thing so overplayed and cliche in the ASMR roleplay niche that I did not think it would be wise in the long run to introduce even the optional Bad End thing because a lot of people cannot grasp the concept of "this is just a spicy branching alternate story for fun".

And honestly, I don't find it all that fun. A by the numbers kidnapping plot for the folks who enjoy that sort of thing would not have been the level of work I'd go on to do, nor would it have created the long lasting emotional attachment to Seth we have today.

Also, knowing your audience fucking matters. That era of the my audience had people freaking out at the idea that Alphonse might leave Boo. They were not prepared for that kind of content whether it was clearly labeled non-canon or not.

I'm pretty happy with where we ended up, and I am much more equipped to tell a story involving a fucked up asshole causing problems on purpose now than I was all those years ago.

But I hear the folks who want various boys behaving badly, and perhaps one day Seth will have a bad dream about what could have been. 🙏