#i bet that's half the reason they even brought his character back

[hollowed-theory-hall]

so in your fic there's Sirius/Barty Jr ship. i reread your analytics of their character and pretty understand the connection. but i would still like to read opinion about their ship 👀

Glad you enjoy my various writing!

Yeah, okay, so Sirius/Barty Jr is a little rare pair my beta reader and I came up with for a different fic that never really got written, but we liked it so much it made it into my current fic, A Matter of Chance.

I'll note that it's gonna take quite some time in A Matter of Chance until Sirius and Barty actually meet and even longer until they get together in any meaningful way (but also my writing plans are super vague, so I don't really know). So there's some waiting until that tag is gonna be relevant. That being said, why I ship them and my thoughts on the ship:

So, I wrote a bunch about Sirius, and a bit less about Barty, but they have, like, a lot in common:

They're both incredibly loyal.

They both suffered Azkaban.

The way Sirius described Barty's father always struck me as him being familiar with the situation: "should've spent more time at home" and might've been showing the bitterness towards Orion.

They both have reason to hate Crouch Sr for sending them to the dementors.

They both care about Harry (pretty shocking on Barty's part, but it truly seems like he does) and are as involved as they can be.

both of them are hands-on in their approach, of, well, literally anything.

I feel Sirius and Barty would get each other's sense of humor that's a bit on the crueler side too. They won't make the other feel guilty over stupid shit.

They also communicate in a similarly straightforward way. They say what they think pretty damn clearly when they're free to do so.

So, as you can see, they have a surprising amount of things in common. As for Barty being a Death Eater, well, I illustrated in my posts about him that I don't think he was that much of a loyal Death Eater and I don't think he tortured the Longbottoms (it's outright stated in the books he wasn't caught with the Lestranges, but with a different group of Death Eaters that walked free!). I think Barty was a Death Eater more as a teenage rebellion than truly believing in everything (though he likely isn't a fan of Muggles). Like, the way Sirius went all in on Dumbledore and the Order as rebellion, Barty did in the opposite direction.

I don't think Barty really killed and tortured many people, but unlike Draco or Regulus I think he could if he felt he needed to, he isn't as sadistic as Bellatrix (or Sirius, honestly). He's tamer but still colder and more willing to respond with violence than Draco or Lucius.

The main quote I'm basing this ship on is the entire conversation in which Sirius talks about Barty in GoF:

Sirius smiled grimly. “Crouch’s own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who’d managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.” “Crouch’s son was caught?” gasped Hermione. “Yep,” said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. “Nasty little shock for old Barty, I’d imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn’t he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . . gotten to know his own son.” He began to wolf down large pieces of bread. “Was his son a Death Eater?” said Harry. “No idea,” said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. “I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I’ve found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I’d bet my life were Death Eaters — but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf.” “Did Crouch try and get his son off?” Hermione whispered. Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark. [...] Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he sent him straight to Azkaban.” “He gave his own son to the dementors?” asked Harry quietly. “That’s right,” said Sirius, and he didn’t look remotely amused now. “I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . . they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in their sleep. . . .” For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius’s eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them. “So he’s still in Azkaban?” Harry said. “No,” said Sirius dully. “No, he’s not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in.” “He died?” “He wasn’t the only one,” said Sirius bitterly. “Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. [...] Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son’s body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it.”

Sirius talks about Crouch Sr and Barty's relationship. He knows a surprising lot about Barty's backstory and childhood for someone who didn't even know for sure if he was a Death Eater and only found these things out after he escaped. Like, where did he learn all this from (sure, he likely read old newspapers, but how much of this information is actually likely to be there?). He also talks about both Bartys with a certain familiarity "ol' Barty". He's dull and bitter over Barty's death, he watched the only "funeral" Barty got, probably the only "attendant" besides the dementors. And he talks about hearing Barty screaming until he died in Azkaban... Yeah, I like that angst, I'm so here for an Azkaban romance (and post-Azkaban romance).

And, like, Barty was in Regulus' year, they probably joined the Death Eaters around the same time, maybe even together. And Sirius probably didn't talk to Barty at all his own when they were in school, he had no reason to, but he knew his little brother hung out with him occasionally. And from the quote above it's clear Sirius felt sorry for him, felt sympathy for someone else he thought might've been innocent. Someone in the same situation as he is that he might've felt protective over, like he could succeded in saving Regulus this time. And Barty has no one, basically, no friends, no family, just haunting memories, a situation Sirius is so familiar with. And Sirius is like a sorta friend, he's basically Regulus if you squint (not at all but at first), they share an experience (and hatred for Crouch Sr) that could feel so isolating when speaking to someone who doesn't know. He's someone Barty could potentially trust since neither of them trusts the ministry, or Voldemort, or Dumbledore. They can be in their own little corner where they have no one (well, Harry is there, but no other adults. Remus has way more faith in Dumbledore than Sirius does)

So, imagine this: Sirius lost everyone, he lost James, he lost his brother, he and Barty are in the same boat. So, like, imagine them talking quietly through the bars, each treating the other as a Regulus stand-in even if their personalities are more similar to each other than to Regulus. This grows into somewhat getting to know each other, something that's almost friendship. A cold comfort in the coldness of Azkaban. Then, Barty seemingly stops talking to Sirius and dies soon after, and Sirius doesn't know what to make of it. After Barry dies, he starts staying in Padfoot form more and more.

And then, post-Azkaban, they gonna meet again and bond over escaping Azkaban and caring about Harry.

There'll be healing. There'll be bad coping mechanisms. There'll be a desperation for any familiar connection and a lot of dark humor. They're on the run from both Voldemort and the ministry. And, like, if anyone thinks Sirius Orion Black won't be willing to help get away from Crouch Sr's body, they don't know Sirius Black.

Like, I think they'd just get each other, but also keep making incorrect assumptions about each other at the same time all the while being desperate for what the other represents — people they lost, time they lost. I think it's a fun concept with angst potential.

They're also both incredibly intelligent and skilled wizards (Barty tricked the Goblet of Fire, which is no easy feat). I think they could see each other, eventually after they get over the initial mess of shared losses, as equals and partners in crime. They just have such a vibe, idk. Like, I imagine them pseudo-parenting Harry together, and all I can come up with would be hilarious, but also, like, surprisingly good for Harry. Harry needs more people in his life who would appreciate him for him, more people that'll raise his ridiculously low self-esteem.

Do you know who's the first character to tell Harry he has talents? Barty Jr.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” said Moody gruffly. “I don’t show favoritism, me. I’m just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is — play to your strengths.” “I haven’t got any,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “Excuse me,” growled Moody, “you’ve got strengths if I say you’ve got them. Think now. What are you best at?”

(GoF, 344)

Basically, I think they'd be messed up, but also make it work under their specific circumstances.

(Can you tell I love trauma bonding ships?)

[bluebellhairpin]

Tamed.

Kenny Ackerman X Reader

Summary: Working as a bartender you meet a lot of different people. Kenny Ackerman just happens to be one of your regulars. Maybe a friend. Perhaps more.

Warnings: Swearing. Kinda Perv Kenny (but he's a good Uncle so it cancels out ig). Canon Character Death. Reader; drinks alcohol, is called 'sweetheart', refers to themselves as ' the mothering type', otherwise is g/n.

Listening to: 'More Than a Feeling' by Boston - "So many people have come and gone. Their faces fade as the years go by yet I still recall as I wander on, as clear as the sun in the summer sky - it's more than a feeling."

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Slice of Life Collab

You’d been working at The Lake for two years. They would’ve been quite a pleasant two years working the local watering hole, if not for your own personal demon leering over your shoulder most nights. 

Kenny Ackerman. 

It wasn’t that he was an awful guy. His more sleazy words and looks were only ever that, words and looks. He dared never lay such sleazy hands on anyone - which was half the reason he had never been kicked out. It was mostly due to his endearing quality of how quick he was to throw hands with other patrons - the rowdy ones who deserved to be thrown out to begin with - and he almost loved doing the honours of telling people not to come back too much. 

Either way, he was more annoying than anything else. Plain old annoying. 

Kenny was so closed off that - even after two years of shifts that ended at 1AM where you stumbled out from exhaustion after closing, and he stumbled out beside you from one too many beers - you couldn’t even say you knew his favourite colour. But… 

You did know he rode a Harley Davidson which roared into the parking lot almost every night you worked. He’d tempted you with a ride home on it multiple times, and you’d yet to agree - and as much as you itched to take him up on the offer, the unspoken cat and mouse game you’d started wasn’t going to be ended by you. 

You knew he had a tattoo that stretched over the back of his shoulders - thanks to a New Year's bet that he wouldn’t completely strip and jump off the jetty into the lake (the one the bar was named after). He won over a hundred dollars that night, and promptly shouted everyone their next drink. The tattoo read ‘Ripper’ in big gothic block letters. Not that you remembered on purpose - anyone would remember a tattoo like that, you told yourself. 

You knew he had a sister - he didn’t talk about her much, but he brought a woman in with him once and told you “not to worry your pretty head” about it. She was a pretty little thing, with dark hair and eyes that matched his. She had a manner to her that spoke of a kind soul with thick skin. You liked her, but you’d yet to see her again. 

And you knew he was one of the only patrons of The Lake who could pull off a greasy mullet. Or sing Redgum karaoke while barely being able to stand and still make it sound good. Hell, that somehow made it sound more real, the guy had you almost pouring a martini through tears. 

You had guessed that tonight would be just like any other. 

It wasn’t. 

Thursday’s were about as uninhabited as The Lake got. On a night so humid, and with no reason to get out of the house, no one was around. A storm was smelt in the air, one evening spent at home wasn’t a worry for anyone, if only to save themselves from being caught in the rain. 

Hearing Kenny’s bike rumble into his usual spot was no difficult feat on a night so quiet. You’d just finished fishing out a new box of beer bottles for a fridge behind the bar that was lacking when he walked in. What had you stopping mid-step with your mouth open wide enough to catch flies was who he had with him. 

“Whose fucking kid is that Kenny?” 

Nothing but the sound of The Rolling Stones answered your question. “I could not foresee this thing happening to you.” The jukebox sang. 

Yet the state of the child whose bicep was in a vice grip between Kenny’s fingers only raised even more questions. His face wall sunken in, and eyes blown wide as if taking in the world for the first time. He looked awful. 

Kenny walked over to the bar, dragging the poor boy beside him and pulling him up onto a bar stool before sliding onto one himself. You sat the box down on the floor, looking at Kenny expectantly.

“What food you got?” 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” Kenny looked down at the boy, pointing vaguely. 

“Hasn't eaten in,” they both shared a quiet look, “A while.” 

“M’kay.” You ducked into the back room, telling your chef/manager/accountant/boss that an actual meal was needed tonight, then returned with a pre-made peanut bowl. You slid it down in front of the kid, turning again behind the bar to make up a glass of water and passing it to him also. 

Then you turned to Kenny. 

“I know you don’t like telling people stuff, but for that kid’s sake I’m gonna have to ask you what you’re doing with him.” You said, eyeing the boy as he plunged his hand into the bowl of peanuts. “You don’t really give off ‘dad’ vibes, deadbeat or otherwise, and I really hope you didn’t kidnap him.” He just scoffed. 

“Can I get a whiskey.” he said, looking up at you, “Or are you just good for not minding your business and looking pretty?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not doing bad guy shit. I can let the lewd comments slide, but if you’re doing stuff with a kid you’re not supposed to I’m gonna call the cops.” you said, “No need to be rude about it.” 

You turned to grab the top shelf whiskey as he lifted a hand to push back his hair. He sighed deeply and hunched over as you placed a glass in front of him. 

“He’s my sister’s.” Kenny admitted quietly. “She’s… Died. I’ve got him for tonight. At least.” His words sent a cold but quick shock down your spine. “One step better than government housing or wherever.” You recovered quickly even though his openness had left you grasping at straws for what to say next. It wasn’t like him to give away so much information. 

“I’m sorry.” you’d said, resting your hands on your workbench, then after a few long moments added, “What’s his name?” 

“Levi.” 

The boy lifted his eyes at the sound of his name, but otherwise didn’t move from his now highly converted bowl of nuts. From the way his hands cradled the bowl, it didn’t look like he’d be sharing them anytime soon. You looked at him, properly, and saw nothing but how sad he must be feeling. 

You didn’t know Kenny well, but you knew him. Enough to know that he was not someone friendly enough for some kid who just lost his mum - whether he was their uncle or not. But could you do about it? You weren’t exactly the mothering type either. 

Thunder cracked in the not-too-far distance as you poured the boy another glass of water.

You hadn’t seen Kenny for a week. 

That was unusual mostly because the longest he’d gone without frequenting your bar was about three days. If you’d known his address, you would’ve visited just to make sure he hadn’t died while looking after his nephew. 

When he finally showed up, you almost didn’t notice him. If it wasn’t for him tapping the bar - a way of asking for a whiskey on the rocks that only he used - he would’ve completely flown under your radar on that busy Saturday night. 

“And where’ve you been?” you’d asked during a moment's calm while the other bartender poured drinks. 

He looked up at you, slighting his hat up with a pointed finger so he could meet your eyes. He had been so quiet - and he looked so tired. It was no wonder you barely noticed him when he was so out of character. 

“What, missed me didcha?” But the snark didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

“At home.” he mumbled into his glass, tipping it up and drinking half in one go. When he met your eyes again you raised an eyebrow. “Not alone - I’m not that stupid sweetheart.” 

“I’m five minutes from the end of my shift. Buy me a drink.” 

“No thanks.” He scoffed at you. 

“That wasn’t a question.” You said, starting to turn away, “Kahlua with vodka, thanks.” 

Going back to work, you kept an eye on him. Watching as he downed the rest of his drink in (again) one go. He got the attention of the other bartender, ordering another whiskey, and a kahlua with vodka. 

When you returned to the front of the bar after ditching your apron, you found Kenny sitting with his back towards you at a table near a window, with both drinks before him. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me asking for a drink.” you said, patting his shoulder as you came around to sit at the seat across. He smiled a little - but it was nothing like the wide wolfish grins you normally saw. 

“You weren’t askin’, remember?” 

“You didn’t have to listen.” you said, sipping on your drink and taking a proper moment to look him over. “You look horrible by the way.” 

“Jesus, thanks sweetheart.” he said into his glass - but took a much smaller mouthful of his drink compared to before, “You know how to make an old man’s night.” 

“The kid’s been putting you through the ringer, huh?” His eyes met yours and you saw his shoulders slump - barely. 

“That obvious?” he asked. When you nodded he sighed, slumping back in his seat with his hands ruling over his face and into his hair under his hat - his gangly legs stretched so far under the table that they slid between yours. “He’s a downright brat. It’s ridiculous. Karma has it out for me, I can see it now.” 

“It surely isn’t that bad, you might just need to get used to it - it’s barely been a week -” 

“I found him standing behind me in the kitchen holding a bread knife.” Kenny said, leaning forward on his elbows to whisper. “I think he wants to kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t be the first.” you said, taking your turn to speak into your glass while you drank. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” you scoffed, setting the glass down again, “But after two years, I think I don’t want that so much - just give him time.” 

“You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me doesn’t want me dead?” 

“‘You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me does want you dead’? Listen to yourself Kenny.” You said, mocking him, but making him think seriously at once. “He’s lost his mum, you’re not so cold to think a boy would want to lose another relative again so quickly.” 

You felt his legs shift between yours - they pulled away, but not enough. You could still feel the warmth of his calf press against yours. “Anyways, with how you wave your pocket knife around so - he might’ve just been trying to copy you.” 

“Right,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips and casting a long glance out the window. “Kids do that, don’t they?” The conversation entered a lull as you both took turns sipping your drinks and staring at the lake lapping at the jetty. A comfortable silence if you ever knew one. 

The air around you changed as the jukebox started a familiar riff of AC/DC. “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I ever seen.” 

Kenny looked at you, downed his drink, then spoke. 

“Wanna take me up on that ride tonight?” he asked. You broke out in a grin. 

It was still warm outside, and the gravel car park crunched under your feet as Kenny led you to his bike. 

There was a thrill sitting hot and heavy in your gut. The fact you had said yes to Kenny to a ride home - perhaps more. Did you want more? He was attractive, in an older man sort of way, and despite all the gross things he could say sometimes he was still a nice enough guy.

Heaven knows you could both use a chance to get laid.  

“I was starting to wonder how much longer I had to work on you before you finally said yes.” he said, breaking away from your slide to throw a leg over the seat with a grin. His hand outstretched to offer help to get on behind him. “Lucky for you, I'm a patient man.” 

As you slid your hand into his, you climbed on - soon finding that in order to be comfortable you needed to be pressed quite close to his back. But you were feeling like being a tease too. 

“Maybe I’ve liked making you wait.” you hummed, chin pressed to his shoulder as you spoke into his ear. You felt him chuckle under your palms as he kicked the engine into gear. 

“Maybe I’ve liked waiting.” he said over the machine’s roar. 

[oscconfessions]

Tbh I really want to do a rewrite of Object Terror. I used to be a fan of it through like 2019-2021. I'm not a fan anymore because I realized just how bad the writing is. I feel like it could have potential if it wasn't so edgy and it actually fleshed out the characters.

Like wdym this new co-host, S'mores, is a demon? Wdym he's collecting souls for mf Satan himself to “prove his worth?” Why is he targeting these random ass contestants of an object show? Why not just go out and collect random stranger's souls off the streets? WHY ARE THERE DEMONS IN YOUR OBJECT SHOW?? And furthermore why is the elimination area hell itself? Why? How? Does this mean when the characters are eliminated via falling spikes they ACTUALLY die? That can't be because one of them, El Nudelo Spider, comes back. Unless S'mores somehow brought him back because they became friends in hell? Why? Does Satan know about that? Does S'mores have to get a pardon? Will he get in trouble if Satan finds out he brought a soul onto earth? There's just so much shit happening for no reason. It's unnecessary.

Don't even get me started on the characters. Literally half of them can be removed because they add NOTHING to the show. Plus they have like zero personality. We don't know a single thing about Skittle besides that she's nice and silly. Dude half your cast is nice and silly. Also this may be nitpicky but why is it such a sausage fest on the show? Out of 25 characters 19 of them are dudes. I'm not saying it has to be 50/50 with the gender but it's really noticeable here how unbalanced it is.

There's no reason for the show to have gore, either. The creator actually responded to this complaint with that the whole show takes place in another world and that the sentient objects aren't objects. Just ugly little creatures. Okay cool concept but 1. You don't have to have so much gore it makes the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise shudder, and 2. What?? If that's the case why does Beer shatter like a beer bottle should? Why does Magazine rip and tear like a paper? Why is it when Coffee Cup quite literally explodes, it's coffee? If they're ugly creatures shouldn't they just be flesh and stuff? Why does it change between objects dying like objects and them dying in the most gruesome ways?

The writing is absolute garbage too. It started off as a comedy but slowly turned into an edgy bloodbath with some comedy in it. Good lord, the comedy. Half of it is just screaming, and the other half is outdated memes. I mean it had the fucking mlg air horn in the first episode. It also had Beer and Trowel in episode 5 making out for literally seven seconds before it cuts to the Carpet and Stapler finding out and being shocked which like. Was that an attempt at comedy? I didn't find it funny at all I was hella uncomfortable when I first watched it (and now that I had to rewatch it again to see how long that was.) First off, why? That was completely unnecessary and the make out happens with no build up. Second what the fuck are Beer and Trowel? They're written as friends but then have a random make out session for no fucking reason. Shit I'm with Carpet and Stapler I was shocked too.

This was supposed to be a confession on how I'd write Object Terror but it turned into me complaining about it. Uh. Anyways What I'd do is remove some of the characters (ie Honey, Fart, Mint), give the rest personality and interests, get rid of the gore and maybe the demon shit. I'm tired this show makes my brain rot whenever I try to understand it. The demon and hell shit is what's bugging me.

I'm sorry for this long ass rant lmao I bet the people who didn't watch Object Terror probably think I'm insane

.

[bothwolvesandgirls]

So i actually wanted to wait before talking about how i feel about the JJK ending in case my thoughts changed because i tend to have emotional, knee-jerk reactions.

After waiting a few days; I still hate the ending

spoilers under the thing

Im gonna be nice and start with what i liked.

I love that the kids are (relatively) fine. Im glad theyre happy. Im glad theyre alive. They deserve the world. I love them.

I actually really, really loved Sukunas ending. Its easily the best writing we got in these last five chapters.

....and thats about it.

And, if im being completely honesty, Sukuna and Uraume having such a well written end kind of pisses me off because like... so it was possible for everyone else too? All these characters could have had meaningful endings? It was possible all along?

Because these last five chapters have been rushed as fuck and everyone can tell the pacing has been all over the place. There is a reason that the Dream Theory became popular, you can only explain inconsistincies with dreams/hallucinations.

These characters, these teenagers, just got out of the most traumatic fight of their lives... and they just carry on? Why aren't they given a moment to reflect? And I mean beyond their battle strategies and what they could have done better.

Why did no one talk about Gojo? Other than talking about how it was all his fault? Why was his death not acknowledged? His students love him, we know they do, why would they not talk about it? He was cut in half, he almost won, they bet on Gojo. He died.

And no, i didnt want a ten-page funeral or anything, but zero acknowledgement??? We get a blink and miss grave moment for tsukimi, also badly handled btw, but Gojo gets nothing?

Yuta fucking wore Gojo's corpse. Its not mentioned.

What is the point of having Yuta become a "monster", to have him not let gojo be the only one, if its not at the very least talked about. Yuta loves Gojo, this was a horrible thing to do, he said so, but we dont get a moment other than a quick (weak) explanation on how he survived when we last saw him it was in Gojo's failing body, on the floor.

Nobara just might be the only character thats brought back to life as a shock value and I love her more than anything but what was the point beyond shock?

Megumi gets the absolute worst ending in my opinion. He doesnt progress. We are told over and over again he has insane potential, he can be incredible, he can do so much... but the writing never allows him to progress as a character. He ends where he starts.

Characters were killed off as shock value and then we find out, randomly, they didnt die actually. We learn about new shadow style lore when it adds absolutely nothing to the story in the final five chapters.

And I will say it, Yujo was nothing more than a shock value moment. It cant be anything more than a shock value moment when its not acknowledge as one. It was shocking, it was there for a little bit, and then it ended randomly.

some ppl are acting like ppl are angry at the ending because Gojo didnt come back but the ending would be just as rushed and bad if he had come back.

(and my very personal thoughts on Gojo is that it would have been cool if he did come back. I dont see how his story can complete when gojo doesnt progress as a person either. He saw himself as a weapon and he died as a weapon and he was used as a weapon. Wouldn't it have been more powerful for him to learn beyond that? For him to learn how to make human connections? for him to finally stop chasings geto's shadow? It would have been powerful if the strongest sorcerer of modern age came back without his six eyes but whatever, i digress)

Im not even going to get into all the plot points that are just left in air because i dont think i have the time for it.

And no, an ending doesnt have to have every single little thing be explained in it to be meaningful, it doesnt have to have everything you want in it to mean something, but this is clearly rushed and it upsets me because i love this story.

I love jjk, i love the world, i love these characters, i think its super cool and it love it. But now all i can think about is the rushed five-chapter end.

It doesnt even end the way it pretends it does! The ending makes you believe the cycle of abusing sorcerers is over, that sorcerers arent cogs in the machine, that the shady HQ people are dealt with... but students finished a mission (easily, sure), higuruma isnt charged and he guesses because higher ups did something about it, and these kid-soldiers arent given time to reflect about what happened and carry on.

We have a whole arc called "premature death" like this. The cycle doesnt end, no matter what the ending wants you to believe. As far as the story is concerned, its going the same way.

Hell, the finger is placed in the same place it was originally stolen from. (Im not angry at that, its cheesy but thats it)

Look i dont hate gege. I think he's terribly burnt out and i sympathize with him because we know how the manga industry works. I just wish this could have been handled differently.

So... no, its not The Worst ending of all times. Gege isnt some demon.

Its just... disappointing, i guess, that this is the ending such an incredible story got.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 34- Part 8

Oh, Salazzle is the last Pokémon! Look at that, I guessed four out Aya's six Pokémon correct! And best of all, it seems like this Salazzle isn't holding an Air Balloon, so…there's nothing stopping Crater from using Earth Power on it! With Shimmer providing Psychic backup, of course.

Nevermind, only half that plan is working out!

Ah, okay, fair enough…and Nidoqueen’s just using Sludge Wave, that shouldn't do too much damage to-

…Wait, doesn't Sludge Wave hit all Pokémon? Even the ally? Wait, that means Salazzle’s gonna-!

HAH! Don't need to worry about doing that with Telepathy, baby!!

Alright, Shimmer being poisoned still isn't ideal…but instead of keeping her in like this, I'm gonna switch her out. Looking at my current team…the best bet would probably be Wulfrum. Nidoqueen is either gonna use Stomping Tantrum on Crater, in which case I'm about to Super Potion her anyways, or it'll use some other move to finish off Shimmer, in which case Wulfrum should be able to tank it. 

Man- poor Wulfrum. I brought him to this fight as extra immunity against Poison shenanigans, and I ended up not using him at all. He's just been sitting there, in the back of the party, waiting for his moment to join the fun, and he only gets to come out at the very end.

Anyways, like I said, Crater's getting healed too-

And Nidoqueen used Sludge Wave again, perfect! So Crater will use Earth Power, and Wulfrum will…um…use Double-Edge, I guess??

Wow, Wulfrum’s really not allowed to do anything in this Gym. I was thinking to myself “it's really nice to have a Steel-type this time, I didn't have that when I fought Corey”, and I- I actually could have just done this with a team of five.

Aya's bluntness aside…it has been three thousand years since this has happened, but at long last, after everything the last few chapters threw at me and Xera, I have once again managed to beat a Reborn Gym on my first try! And it was a Double Battle too!! Now that's character development!

And another upside to genuinely being able to win first try- spiting Fern, who didn't! Take THAT, you foolish fool!

Oh yeah- and besides, isn't losing battles as much part of a Gym Leader’s job as winning? They like- test challengers to see if they're truly worthy of the Badge and strong enough to take on the rest of the League, that sorta thing.

…Man, why did my first first-try win against a Gym Leader in…quite a few chapters have to be against someone with such deep troubles as Aya? This just feels bad now! It's like I said earlier, it's like a hollow victory- and I was feeling good about the win at first, too…

Oh hey that's the title of Chapter 17! Fascinating that this chapter has so many callbacks to back then.

Cain’s the younger sibling? Huh- for some reason, I assumed Aya was the younger one. Probably because I mistook her for being closer to a teenager, but if she's older than Cain, that's obviously wrong too.

But then…how old is Aya supposed to be, anyways? And how old is Cain, for that matter? I've been assuming he and the other two rivals are around the same age as Xera, whose own age was vaguely listed as “Adult” at the start of the game, so like- who the heck knows at this point.

Previous

Next

[pink-bird-30]

Titans 4x10

SPOILERS AHEAD

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Oooooooohhhhhhhh what an interesting episode indeed!

I knew that we would get a fun episode when they decided to have a crossover with Doom Patrol.  I have not had the pleasure of watching Doom Patrol yet, but I have loved these characters since Titans season 1.

“Mowing Mother nature’s Bush”

Cliff lines are always out of pocket, but this one was honestly great.

I thought it was interesting how Gar created this “home” and made it half nature and pulled Cliff, Larry, and Victor into his version of Doom Manor.

But I was so happy for how excited Gar was to see Cliff and Larry, his little jump hop into Cliffs arms was too cute!

Oh, and the playfulness between Gar and Vic, it was really fun to see.  I felt like I was watching an episode of Teen Titans with those two.  I’m really glad we got to see them on the screen together, even if it was for a short while.

Okay, we gotta talk about Connor Luther, aka Anti-hero Era Connor.

I gotta say, I like that Connor was being straight forward with Sebastian, giving him an out from doing something that he doesn’t want to.  Although I for sure knew he had ulterior motives from the second he sat down at that table with Sebastian, but damn.  Anti-hero Connor is something else.  Straight up taking over Lex Corp, taking the throne as CEO…wow.

What a man.

But the next scene between Sebastian and Mother Mayhem was brutal.  We all knew she was using him since day one, but the hurt on Sebastian’s face when he hears her degrading words,

“You are nothing”

My soft spot for Joseph Morgan had me jumping from my seat ready to fight.  All I knew is that Mother Mayhem was NOT going to have a good mother’s day and I’m glad he burned her to a crisp.  She honestly deserves worse.

But ding dong, the witch is dead….at least for now….

As I have mentioned before, Bernard always has great one liners,

“Bald headed psychopath”

Too good.

The scene with Kori, Dick, and Rachel was interesting.  I think this is the first season where this trio sticks together the most.  But when Rachel tells Dick she was better off dying than Kori, and Dick saying no one is dying, does this mean Dick has finally comes to terms that maybe someone will die?

First it was him denying prophcies,

Then it was denying more prophecies,

And now he thinks no one is going to die.

My man, we have 4 seasons of batshit crazy situations, you’re telling me at this point where the Titans are on the losing side of things you don’t think that someone will not die? *eye roll

Now we have Kori entering Gar’s World and Dick and Rachel running off to dabble in dark magic.

What is this show?!

We have Kori entering “the red” and popping Vic in the face, which was hilarious.  I’m glad Gar and Kori reunited again, that made me very happy.  My little mother son duo back together again.  

But honestly, I bet when Kori realized she was stuck in another random place again, she must’ve been sooooo over it.  She just escaped Caul’s Folly and now she’s stuck in this house Gar created.

Can we agree that Vic is 100% smitten with Kori?  Like look at that man gazing at her when she hands him the bag go cold peas.

Same, Vic.  Same.

The conversation between Kori and Gar was important.  We can see Gar told Kori she was there for a reason and that there is something she needed to work through.

Alright,

The tennis scene, absolutely amazing.  Gar and Kori were kicking ass while Vic and Larry were struggling big time.

But they brought up that thing.  The thing in the DC universe that a lot of us don’t talk about because it is a touchy subject and has always been up for debate….

But why did Cliff need to bring up the p*nis debate, just whyyyyy.

Moving onnnnn,

Kori and Gar’s heart to heart,

“I love what he’s trying to destroy”

I-

I teared up, I won’t lie.  That entire scene hit me right in the heart.  Kori needed to forgive herself for not killing Sebastian and I’m glad we were able to acknowledge it.  I trust Kori’s judgement and her not killing Sebastian may or may not be the best thing, but I guess we will find out.

Now let’s go to the deep dark hell Rachel and Dick are dealing with while Kori and Gar are having a grand ol’ time.

First off when that witch says,

“Your weapon is your love for this child”

*Screams into the void

OOOOMMMMMGGGGG

LISTEN, THE UNHOLY SOUND THAT CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH WHEN THE WITCH SAID THIS UGH.

I ceased to exist.

And then the black goop that Rachel threw up and turned into a creature I’m pretty sure I’ve seen on Buffy the Vampire Slayer…girl.  I cannot.

We have Kori and Gar off in lala land, and Dick is fighting a demon, pure chaos and I am going to miss this so much.

Over at Lex Corp,

Sebastian tainted his game and now everyone is a martyr for his cause?  Bernard is in a coma from this game and I am unwell.  Poor Tim.

Going back to Kori and Gar.  When the room starts to close in on them, and Gar and Vic start to go at it, I had a moment where I was so sad that this was the only interaction between these characters.

Ryan and Joivan have such great chemistry, and I wish we had more time with them on screen.  But the few moments they are arguing and then bonding over a movie were awesome.

And of course, Vic saying “booyah” was icing on the cake.

Side note, does anyone else think Dick’s friend in London was Constantine? 

Anyone?  Just me?  Okay.

I love Connor’s face when he realizes he fucked up.  Like he is witnessing Sebastian take over the world and can do absolutely nothing about it.  For a hot moment, I really thought we lost Connor, but when Tim tried hacking into Lex Corp’s firewall, I was so happy Connor had enough sense to help out the Titans.  This gives me hope we will have Golden Retriever Connor back soon.

Also, the way Tim waited for Kori’s permission to commit a felony, top tier respect for mother.

Finally, Dick was able to slay the monster which woooo, but I cannot shake what the witch said to Dick about Death not forgetting him…I pray that is not foreshadow….

When Sebastian realizes the connection between him and Rachel is severed, 

“I can’t feel Rachel”

and then the words from Mother Mayhem echoing

“Without Trigon’s power, you are nothing.”

Shoooooo Today’s episode is going to be wild…

Let’s see how 4x11 goes.  And then there is only the Finale left, I cannot believe we have been on this journey since 2018…

Until next time, let me know how you guys felt about the episode!

[cheryls-blossomed]

I know you’re done with the show but wanted to say a few things if you don’t mind. I’m glad the show is over, it did limp to the finish line and I just wasn’t impressed with a lot of the decisions that were made for this final season but like you I’m moving on. I did want to comment on some things I did like and you mentioned one. That Barry stay giving no shits the minute Iris comes out of anyone’s mouth regarding taking her from him, heart to heart talking Barry goes away with a quickness. I love that they had Iris tell Eddie that it was always Barry, that he was right there was 3 people in their relationship back then she just wasn’t aware at the time, even though we been knew, still great to get that acknowledged on the show and I felt it was a closure type moment. I loved the scene with Barry and future Iris, I’ve rewatched that clip several times because yes, she knows her husband like no other and knew exactly what his younger self needed to hear in that moment. What were your thoughts on Iris acknowledging to Eddie what we all knew since season 1?

Aw, of course, I don't mind, nonnie! You're welcome to come by my inbox at any time to chat about the show. I'm never going to be done done with The Flash, because Iris and Westallen are so important to me.

I love how Barry goes from 0 to 100 with a quickness whenever anyone even breathes the wrong way in Iris's direction. It's happened so many times, and it's such a staple of his character. The biggest reason why Barry basically didn't even want to spend a minute talking to Eva, before entering into a rage, is because she had trapped Iris in the Mirror dimension. Barry tried to pep-talk Ragdoll, before Ragdoll brought up Iris, and then it was, "If you touch Iris..." Like this is a staple facet of Barry's character: will pep-talk anyone, until they breathe in the wrong direction as Iris, and then all bets are off. So, I love how we see that again in his interaction with Eddie in the West House.

I loved Iris acknowledging to Eddie that it was always Barry for her, because this has been clear since season 1, and honestly, when I heard that Eddie was returning as Cobalt Blue for this final arc, I was hoping that we'd get a scene where Iris would say this, and I am so, so glad that we did. In general, I really liked the scene between Iris and Eddie, because I never thought that Iris would be overtly emotional when she saw Eddie. Like obviously she's happy that he's not actually dead and would want to help him, but she's not super, super emotional about the fact that he's back, and that would be even more apparent for 2049 Iris. So, I really appreciate Candice's acting choice in this scene. I really like the moment when she instinctively snatches her hand back when he's truly delusional and half-corrupted by the Negative Speed Force and tried to ask her to marry him. She immediately turns around and tells him that he had said that there were always three people in their relationship, and he was right when he'd said that. Because it's always been Barry and Iris in their own world together, and Eddie knew that in season 1 while dating Iris. From the beginning, Barry and Iris's connection escaped definition. There was always this aspect to them that they transcend space, time, and universes from the very beginning. But it's also the little things to: the Jitters coffee dates, the unequivocal support for each other's endeavors, the wiping-ketchup-off-of-each-other's-faces-while-their-dates-watch-on, the fact that they literally had a dramatic break-up when they weren't even dating and were depressed about it and then like a few days later were like, "I've missed you so much," and just ease right back into their relationship. Barry and Iris are constant. Their relationship has always been romantic. Iris has said, "I've always been Iris West-Allen. I've always been yours." She drew upon their shared most visceral childhood memory to return Barry's memories - the night Barry came to stay at the Wests' house, and she hears him crying and goes to comfort him, and these two children gravitate towards each other's warmth and hearts and and fall in love in that very moment. Iris has known since she has allowed herself to reflect for many, many years that it was always Barry for her. But I've always waited for her to tell some version of Eddie, should he ever return, because it of course unequivocally states what the narrative has portrayed since season 1. I also like that Iris has always gotten the perspective on this both in season 3 and then in 9x12, as she should, especially when she was denied so much perspective on this in season 1. In this moment, Iris says, "It was always Barry. Even back then if I didn't realize it myself." She is stating unequivocally that for her it has always been Barry and it was always going to be Barry, and I love that moment not just because it confirms what we've been saying since season 1, but because it's Iris's perspective on her feelings for and her relationship with Barry, and I so wanted this in season 1 for her in all aspects, but she was denied so much of that in the narrative.

Also, same, I really loved the scene between Barry and 2049 Iris. It was really gentle and loving and romantic, and I just love that 2049 Iris told Barry exactly what he needed to hear - she made sure to answer his question, even after they'd been interrupted by the lightning storm, because she knew he needed to hear how happy they are, and it just... it really speaks volumes to how inherently in tune Iris and Barry are to one another.

[x-aileen]

Looking at T'Challa

There is one character compared to all the rest where I feel confident to give a front to back detailed analysis and feel intrigued as well as passionate to write about. That being T’Challa from “Black Panther”. After his fathers death, T’Challa becomes the new king to the throne leaving him to balance a life between a king and protector of Wakanda. As stated from Marvel.com, “not only did the throne of Wakanda pass to T’Challa, but also the full weight of the Black Panther’s responsibilities” (Marvel.com). No matter the situation, T’Challa dives head on to challenge the problem making sure the solution not only favors Wakanda’s best interest for its people and helps those outside of Wakanda. 

T’Challa played the role of a king and a hero. A king who wants to follow in his fathers footsteps and is loyal to his country. And a hero who is responsible for making sure his people and those he loves are safe. Becoming the new king of Wakanda and the Black Panther marks the start of T'Challa’s story. To prove to his people that he will be a great king like his father, he seeks to find the thief that stole vibranium and bring them both back to Wakanda to avoid getting their country from being known to the rest of the world. For years now Wakanda has lived in isolation from the rest of its world to keep their most important resource that brings them technological advancements from being used by anybody else in the world for bad. Outside of Wakanda, T’Challa comes across his long lost cousin Killmonger who was in compliance with stealing vibranium from the museum. While he does fail to bring him to Wakanda, Killmonger arrives in Wakanda unannounced to claim his chance to the throne with the goal of wanting to sell vibranium outside of Wakanda for war. T’Challa essentially “dies” from his defeat with Killmonger but meets his father one last time in the spiritual plane and makes a decision that will forever change Wakanda and its traditions. Reborn again, T’Challa battles Killmonger for the safety and the throne of Wakanda. Then the movie ends with the life changing, problem solving, and tradition breaking decision from T’Challa. 

Throughout the whole movie, T’Challa was so focused on doing things that his father would have done rather than doing things that felt right to him. He viewed his father to be a courageous, wise, and flawless king. Even coming back from the spiritual plane after seeing his father he promised to keep things as tradition follows. Taught to him by his father, he believes and values that Wakanda remaining in isolation is what is the right thing to do. T’Challa’s goal in the first half was to resolve his fathers failure of bringing justice to the man that attacked and killed many people of Wakanda and has stolen vibranium from Wakanda. With the chance of seeing him in person, T’Challa faces solving his 2 most prominent goals as the king of keeping Wakanda isolated by retrieving the stolen vibranium and resolving his fathers failures by killing/capturing the man. One of the turning points for T'Challa character motives and roles was when he discovered Killmonger was his cousin who came to Wakanda unannounced. From him he learned that his own father had killed Killmongers father. This reshaped the way he viewed his father, the goals that he’d have for himself and for the state of Wakanda. After his defeat with Killmonger for the throne and left for “dead”, he confronts his father in the spiritual plane about the abandonment of Killmoger. The reason he is the way he is is because of him being abandoned in the apartment, not even being brought back to Wakanda to get to know his people. T'Challa, upset with how his father handled that situation, lets go of his idealization of his father who could do no wrong. In an interview with BET he say, “There is real life when you find out that your father is not perfect, that he makes mistakes….T’Challa is coming into his own in this movie and trying to figure out what type of ruler he is supposed to be. He has to use his father’s successes and his failures and come to terms with the fact that he can challenge even the greatest of his ancestors” (Father Stretch My Hands: 'Black Panther' & Raising Our Sons To Shine). Not only that but rethinks the way vibranium can be shared outside of Wakanda, something the kings of the past have feared of doing. He makes a new goal that he will now do what he seems is best for his people not based on his father.

After the climactic battle ending with Killmongers death it changes T’Challa. He learns that Killmonger never had a community he can rely on or have opportunities he can look forward to unlike those in Wakanda. He just wanted to fight and help those who are suppressed in the outside world. This moment was the push T’Challa needed to make the life changing decision that he made at the end of the movie : to reveal Wakanda to the rest of the world and help those in need with the abundance of vibranium and technological advancements that they possess. Despite knowing that it might bring danger to his country, T’Challa commits to challenging the past to build a better future for Wakanda. 

T'Challa's development revolved by letting go of past ways and focusing on building a new future with new terms. Stray away from traditions to better himself and for others. He's passionate to keep his country and people safe but also caring about helping those outside of Wakanda.  While I myself am not Black, I would consider T’Challa a hero not only in the movie but to black people who watched the movie. He is able to represent black power to cinema and represent change and growth within the movie to inspire those who watch. Continuing with the same old ways won’t lead to any difference rather change is needed to grow. An idea that can be taken into context inside and outside of the movie. 

[vidavalor]

<<There is evidence of Jesus and Lucifer swapping places. Of God being a demon. Whether you agree is a separate question.>>

Could you show me where you see evidence of these things? I'm asking honestly as I'm afraid I don't really see what you're saying here. I guess one of the reasons why I hesitate at the idea of the idea of God being a demon is that I think that a show that has spent time establishing that demons are angels who ran afoul of a fascist regime and that, with the exception of Satan who is, ya know, the literal devil, most of the demons are actually just the originally anti-fascists... which is also why they all hate the Nazis in 1941... and then makes a point to show that angels can do "demonic miracles" and that demons can do angelic magic so the differences between them basically amounts to hellfire/holy water and different colored feathers... the point of all of that to me is showing that there is no such thing as a demon really at all. It's something made up to "other"-ize angels to help The Metatron keep power. The demons are tortured angels and I bet that the concept of a demon is going to be eradicated in S3.

Shadwell even said how someone might do that back in S1 (and yeah, I know, I'm taking this from Shadwell lol but he gets to be accidentally right as much as the other characters and this scene was Very Important) and that's that you exorcise demons by "bell, book, and candle."

I don't know about you but I just saw Aziraphale light candles and ring a bell in his bookshop before he went with Coffee Dude in a parallel scene to the one where Shadwell brought up how to make demons disappear from the plot so hmm... I'm willing to place a bet on The Marvelous Mr. Fell's greatest trick being making the idea of demons disappear in S3.

In support of this? God referring to Crowley as a person alongside humans when discussing the nature of people in the baby swap and Her narrating the S1 ending in a positive way while explaining nightingales to the audience as the song plays and the lyric is: there were angels dining at The Ritz... The song and God are both calling Crowley a person and an angel in S1 so it's winking at the idea that demons are a made up thing that don't actually exist.

<<Frankly your "God is good" is the standard religious defense of the Christian god. GO is a satire of all that,>>

Whoa, hold up lol. In no way did I say that God was good. I just said She isn't evil. God is a cheeky bitch in her narration and I don't necessarily think all of what precious little we've seen Her actually do is positive. All I said is that what She has done correctly, in my opinion, is the big thing She needed to which is to be on the side of free will for Her creations and doing nothing to get in the way of ensuring that they have it.

There's also nothing "Christian standard" in believing in a God that advocates for free will and actually supports the positive stuff Jesus said to do. You are correct-- the show is a satire. It's making fun of religious fundamentalists who use Christianity as an excuse to hate and who take The Bible literally and who are incapable of critical thinking. That's half the joke with The Sound of Music and the parallel of fascism, like the lack of critical thinking in the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters.

God is Frances McDormand on Good Omens. God has She/They pronouns on this show. Her presentation is part of the satire of fundamentalists, not necessarily religion itself.

Also funny? I'm an atheist so I'm amused if you think I'm defending God from a Yay!Religion standpoint (on my Good Omens blog lol) when I'm pretty much the definition of raised-Roman-Catholic-and-now-is-basically-a-humanist-who-mediates. 😂 I think the single greatest and most bold lyric ever written is "and no religion, too" so I'm sorry for any confusion but I'm definitely not saying that God is Great because I'm defending Christianity. I'm just talking about Good Omens' God, specifically, and I can explain why I think that God can not be a villain on Good Omens and how that can fit with the elements of the show you're talking about.

What makes Good Omens work, imho, is that it's not just a sharp satire. It's about magic. It has a heart to it. It's warm and it's romantic. This means that there needs to be some possibility of the unexplainable or of destiny that probably lingers past the end of the show. There's not an Ineffable Plan in the sense that God's creations are following a predetermined path. She believes in them having free will and making their own choices. But, in Good Omens, God is, to the best of our knowledge, the creator of all of the other characters. Did She maybe stack the deck in the favor of Her creations a bit by making them as wonderfully imperfect as they are? Did She maybe make them with hopes that they'd find each other a bit? Is there maybe not predestined outcomes but a sense of destiny?

I don't think Crowley is wrong when he says in Tadfield that everyone in The Universe has free will... but I also don't think he's wrong in feeling that love is the kind of magic that he-- a literal sorcerer-- cannot fully explain and that, because there is magic in the world that he doesn't understand, he wonders about a sense of destiny or fate in a romantic way that he ascribes back to his creation.

Crowley believes that the same God who he believes (erroneously but he doesn't know that yet) is responsible for his fall made he and Aziraphale for each other. Let's say he's not wrong about that. Let's say there's even some subtle evidence in S3 that he might be right or it's left open a bit. Either way, it wouldn't make the show any less of a satire. I don't see the show as being a satire of spirituality so much as it's a satire of fundamentalism.

Maybe it's just my soppiness showing lol but I don't even believe in God and this was romantic...

...I'd be fine with a wink to the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale are fated and wouldn't find it incongruous with a show that balances dealing with darkness and its skewering of religious and political extremism with a soft heart and romance and magic.

<<because there isn't a binary between treating people like dolls you should have total dominion over, and letting your child eat bleach.>>

You're arguing for God's dominion if you believe that it's Her role to "stop the children from eating bleach" by keeping Armageddon at bay. It's not. Her creations are autonomous beings. They don't need Her. They have moral compasses of their own and can look after one another and hopefully will choose to do so. Why would God make beings that look to Her for guidance? Who is She to tell them what to do? She made them to be able to do for themselves, not blindly look to Her for everything. It's the religious fundamentalists the show is satirizing who say that God is in everything and God has a plan and it's all God's will and just pray. God isn't responsible for the bad decisions of Her creations-- they are. Blaming God is the same thing that the people the show is satirizing do instead of taking responsibility for their own actions.

<<A promise not to drown everyone again isn't kind, it's deranged. You know what kind of person says shit like that?>>

Yes. The Metatron. As I mentioned above, there's no evidence whatsoever that God ever said that. Aziraphale has simply heard that God's "a bit tetchy" so his orders came from another angel, who got them from? The Metatron.

Just as there's no evidence that God wrote the permit to take all that Job owned. The God of S1's narration is not a God who would believe that Job owned his kids but The Metatron would view those kids with the patriarchal sense of ownership which which he views all of the angels. Again, I'll say I believe the character that's credited as The Voice of God over the character who claims-- with zero evidence-- to be the one who can speak for God any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

<<An ineffable plan that does not exist is not evidence of good, it's a different kind of immoral: did you plan to let your kid eat bleach or did you sit there with glee claiming you wanted him to do the right thing and couldn't possibly tell him anything because that would "violate autonomy"? Again, ignorance isn't bliss: that's the point of the apple.>>

It's a little frightening that you think that what would make God not be a villain is for Her to exert control over adults. God's creations are not four year olds with bleach. That's not a viable comparison. You are advocating for Her to control autonomous beings and make decisions for them. That is not freedom. Freedom is having the choice to make mistakes. Adults don't need God, just as they don't need their parents to intervene because they're adults. You are equating adult beings with small children who need minding and that's a little scary.

This show that has themes of autonomy and its relation to freedom has plenty of villains already. Heaven and Hell are stealing memories, inflicting trauma, endless verbal and physical abuse. It still, though, would very much be in violation of the character's autonomy to show up and take over and do all the work of Her creations for them. Why would She want to do them more harm and take more from them?

<<You can, however, eat your cake and have it too, if "cake" is not cake but the same thing it represents in the Lockdown audio. That cake is not destroyed in its eating, continuing to exist for another round. Infinite rounds, one could even say.>>

"Cake" is masturbatory fantasies in Lockdown. Can we at least agree on that? 😂 I'm sure he did some literal baking, too, but everything Aziraphale's telling Crowley that he has been "baking" with inspiration from the "cookbook sextion section" of the shop is euphemistic for a particular type of fantasy he was using to get himself off since he and Crowley last spoke. When Crowley suggests he "slither over" and watch Aziraphale "eat cake", he's expressing interest in watching Aziraphale masturbate. So, I guess, if we're on the same page about that and that's what you meant, the infinite rounds you mentioned are theoretically possible but in the interest of keeping this from becoming a debate about refractory periods in supernaturally human bodies, I'm going to just kinda leave it here and wish you a pleasant evening. 😂🤗

if the fly was outside the box when aziraphale went to pick it up. and the fly is his "him". do you think the fly lead him to aziraphale? from where ever he was before?

[theresoneicouldcallking]

rich dotcom and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

[fruitcoops]

Hi hi Eve! I hope you’re good! For some reason I can’t get the Lions as kids out of my head lately, I bet they were the cutest ever! So I wanted to ask if you could write something with the Lions firsts at hockey when they were little, maybe Leos first time in the goal or Logans first hat trick, Dumo learning to skate, Finns first goal ever or something along those lines? Please and thank you! ❤️

Fic O'Ween Day 12: Trick or Treat! In the wake of the newest Vaincre chapter (which left me screaming, crying, and shaking in my boots), here's our favorite Frenchie's first hat trick <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Skates scraped on the ice as the players found their spots. Logan bent, keeping his stick close and ready when the time came. The boy opposite him was shuffling a little to keep his balance—he favored his right side. Logan made a mental note to move left while the referee skated over.

“On three, oui?” he announced. A small chorus of ‘ouais’ answered, but Logan kept his eyes on the ice between them. His feet were steady. His muscles were starting to get sore from standing still for so long. Maybe that squat competition with Noelle had been a bad idea.

“Go, Lo!” Sydney cheered from the bench. Logan’s neck heated under his pads; didn’t she know how embarrassing that was? He was almost eight. He didn’t need his sisters yelling for him like he was a baby.

“One, two, three!”

The puck made a satisfying clack on Logan’s stick when he snatched it out from underneath his opponent and made a break for the goal. It was easy to swerve around their first line—that kid was tall, but skinny. He yelped when Logan’s shoulder found his rib, too slow to grab at him before Logan was well out of reach.

His shot sailed in perfectly, because of course it did. A wave of cheers went up from his side of the bleachers. Logan smiled.

--

One night, Logan had been up past his bedtime and heard his dad on the phone in his office. He had stopped to listen and heard words like prodigy and talent and prospect, in a couple years. The pieces weren’t hard to connect after that. Whoever was on the other end of the phone liked his skating—there had been similar conversations about Noelle two years ago, and now she had scouts at every single game.

Logan wasn’t a hundred percent sure what a prodigy was, but it had sounded good when he whispered it in the darkness before scampering upstairs.

It sounded even better in his head when he tapped the puck between the bent legs of a smaller boy and snapped it across the ice to Peter, who passed it just before bouncing off one of the other team’s enforcers. Logan pulled it back to himself and looped around the back of the goal for an easy tip-in. His lungs burned with the sparky, wonderful feeling being on the ice always brought, the one that made him want to stay there forever.

“Deux!” Noelle hollered, pounding on the glass while their sisters cheered and their mother shook her head with a smile. “Un autre, LoLo! Un autre!”

Coach patted the back of his helmet when Logan swung back to the bench. “You know what a hat trick is, Tremblay?”

“Ouais,” Logan panted around the spout of his waterbottle.

“Ever gotten one?”

Logan shook his head, pushing his helmet up when it slipped.

Coach raised a brow, then tilted his head toward the glittering, perfect ice. “Wanna try?”

--

It was a little unfair that one more goal was so hard to score. Logan wrinkled his nose when another shot went wide—they had swapped their goalie out, and the new kid was a whole lot better. He met Logan’s glare with one of his own and settled into a crouch. Logan’s scowl deepened.

Marc slipped him a quick, sharp pass right near the crease and Logan went for it, but the puck bounced off the goalie’s left blocker and was gone in half a second. “Merde,” he hissed. One of the other kids gasped and he ignored them; it wasn’t his fault other people didn’t have sisters to teach them fun new words. That sounded like their problem to fix.

There wasn’t much time left. He had seen it happen on TV a million times, three gorgeous goals and then a rain of hats coming down, but he had also seen the disappointment on players’ faces when they got so close but still not there. Logan wanted it. He wanted it bad. And that goalie wasn’t going to give it to him, prodigy or not.

Sirius Black got a hat trick when he was seven, he reminded himself as he hung back, away from the muddle of players tripping over each other in front of the goal. Sydney had warned him against that: don’t play bunchball, LoLo. The puck will go to whoever can catch it when it tries to sneak away.

Their dad liked to keep tabs on all sorts of Quebeçois players for them to watch; Black was a growing favorite, but Logan was pretty sure nobody would ever be better than Dumais. At only 26, he had been skating longer than Logan had been alive, and was already becoming a hockey legend. Logan loved watching him play. It was like seeing a magic show.

But—but maybe it wasn’t fair to compare himself to Black and Dumais. They were older, after all. Dumais was a professional. And Black was better than everybody at everything, always had been, probably always would be. Logan hopped back onto the bench when the whistle blew, out of breath and overheated.

Coach tapped his shoulder with the edge of his clipboard. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.” Something in his chest hurt when he thought about his earlier goals. They had felt easy. Why was this one so hard?

“Need a breather?”

Oui. Logan bit the inside of his cheek. “Non, I can keep going.”

“Have some water, kiddo. I’ll put you in for the last shift.”

He made a face at the floor, but didn’t protest. Arguing with Coach never ended well. If he wanted a chance at that hat trick, he’d have to keep his mouth shut for just few more minutes. Begging for shifts would get him nowhere fast, and sass would make sure he was benched until he left Juniors.

Stupid goalies.

--

24 seconds remained on the clock when Logan was finally allowed to skate again and he hit the ice running, sliding right up against one of their D-men for a good shove to take the puck. They fought for it—Logan was littler than most of the kids his own age, let alone the ten-year-olds on the verge of aging out—and he dug his elbow into the bigger boy’s side. A yell, a flinch, and the puck was Logan’s.

Marc caught his eye and then his pass, carrying it past two more defensemen before Logan shouted for it again. Fifteen seconds. So close. He was beginning to understand what announcers meant by ‘puck-hungry’ players, because he could feel the need in the pit of his stomach.

Ten seconds. Logan reached the blue line and went for it, eyes trained on the sliver of space between the goalie’s glove and the post.

He didn’t make it.

The goalie’s gaze locked on his own once the puck was knocked away and Logan saw him grin, smarmy and mean behind his visor. Some furious noise slipped out and he lunged for the rebound. Mine. The goalie braced. Sirius Black liked sneaky, perfect shots. Pascal Dumais was the master of wraparounds.

Logan reeled his stick back and slammed the puck into the net as hard as he could.

“OH MY GOD!”

He could hardly hear the buzzer blare around the shouts of his teammates and his sister’s shriek still echoing in the rink. He managed to stumble free of the huddle and scrambled toward the bench, launching himself over the side and into his mother’s waiting arms. Distantly, he remembered they were supposed to shake hands with the other team, but Logan was sure he was about to vibrate right out of his skin while his family yelled a million and one perfect things directly into his face.

“—great look—”

“—that’s three!—”

“—proud of you, mon cher—”

“It’s a hat trick!” He grabbed the front of his father’s coat, giving him a clumsy shake. “Papa, that’s a hat trick!”

The whole world went dark in the depths of a thick wool sleeve; Logan let himself be hugged so tight he could hardly breathe, feet dangling off the ground, every muscle worn out. “You did so good,” his father whispered. Logan pushed his face deeper into scratchy fabric and listened to his own heart beat rabbit-fast in his ears. A big hand came up around the back of his head, trembling slightly; he felt a bump on the top of his helmet, like someone’s chin resting on it. “Oh, Lo, we’re so proud of you.”

Logan wanted this feeling forever. The rush and burn, the fight and the sweet, sweet victory. His teeth chattered at the flood. He felt like he could skate forever and ever and ever and never stop again. It was so much and yet he still wanted more.

“I want this,” he said when he could breathe again. His hands were still clenched tight in a coat that smelled like home. His father’s dark eyes were so very bright when Logan looked at him. “I want this, papa.”

A slow smile spread over his face and he heard his mother chuckle. “Oh, god,” his father laughed, squeezing him once more. “Of course you do. Three out of four. Just our luck.”

Logan couldn’t wait to see how far he could go.

[freewilllife]

Lol imagine nitpicking the author's words to only see what you want to see. She literally adds the words 'wouldn't be too much dispute between them.' It possibly could not be that maybe Lwj excels in virtue or WWX in character, or that both of them have highly idealistic traits to have, no? Just because she tells us to be like Lwj in virtue does not mean WWX lacks virtue, that's your own incorrect assumption.

Look if an author makes a certain distinction, you can bet that she or he thought something about it, because a good author, like MXTX, knows how to use words. It is that easy. And if she merely pointed to Lang Wangji regarding his virtue and not Wei Wuxian, you can bet that there was reason behind it.

Run, where exactly? Literally where could he have run where he would be safe, and live in hiding for the rest of his life? Like a coward?What would running away have solved? The Wens would still be killed, with the added knowledge that WWX abandoned them to their fate. Nothing would have changed for the better. WWX did everything he could to peacefully protect the Wens and himself, that's the point, peace was no longer an option. There was nothing else he could do.

So you think murdering people and dying was the better alternative? Wei Wuxian was lucky that somebody wanted to use him and brought him back. Or else he would have stayed dead. Wei Wuxian could have lived and found out more about the situation. Living is always better than giving up.

When he came back, he literally hid from the world until he could no longer deny who he was. It is not that Wei Wuxian is beyond such measures. I mean he is the person who had fun pretending to be crazy.

Wei Wuxian most likely did not think very deeply about his situation then and reacted before he knew it. And so he killed a great bunch of people.

I can assure you that he would have rather killed himself than hurting his sister, a person he deeply loved.

No, WWX did not destroy the seal because he felt he was wrong. He destroyed it because he realised that it was too dangerous a thing for those bloodthirsty sects to have, too much power for one person, and it was mostly likely to fall in their hands after his death, which would certainly be a disaster. As evidenced by how half of it ended up in XY's hands and the Jin clan was all too eager to pardon his numerous crimes so that he could fully restore it for them to use.

Wei Wuxian certainly felt he was wrong in the moment his sister died because of his reaction. You do not make sense...if it was right for him to use it, why was it too much power for one person?

Please show me the scene where Wei Wuxian proclaims he felt he did nothing wrong here. I am quite excited to read it.

True, Jiang Yanli dies but how is that his fault? He did not deliberately kill her, first it was her choice to run out to an open battlefield without any support, and then sacrifice her life for him. Her death was a tragic accident. Also I couldn't help noticing that she sees the thousands of these cultivators attacking a single man, and asks that man to stop defending himself. Smh.

It is astonishing that you proclaim that Wei Wuxian did nothing wrong, even here. Yes, she wanted to protect him, but if he had not started it, she would be still alive. That from the person to tells his nephew that "thank you" and " I am sorry" are very important. One of his journeys goals was to come to terms with his later deeds. Sure Wei Wuxian was treated unfairly by others, but he himself also is not without fault. He himself also killed people. Even in some cases where he did not intend to kill them, it doesn´t matter, because the person is still dead. Jing Ling has unfortunately nothing from an explanation like this.

So you really do think that killing people senselessly like Wei Wuxian did here, is justice?

He did not take revenge, as the real culprits were still alive and stayed unharmed.

It was also not a develish plan of him, but rather a reaction from a person that was already at a very dark place.

'He merely escalated the situation-' even if that's true he still played a major role in the kingdom's downfall. It was entirely his fault, not XL's. He even goes out of his way to hinder XL's efforts to provide relief for his people, multiple times in increasingly drastic ways.

You do not make sense here. If he merely escalated the situation, then the situation was already bad to begin with and might have also come to a certain point without his intervention. There were occurences, where Jun Wu did not need to intervene.

Xie Lian could do nothing against the drought as a martial god. The people of Yong´an would have come either way. They were refugees that needed help, but the king of Xianle did not know, how to solve this issue, though there would have been some measures.

There was still much corruption in this country that hindered actual help for the people of Yong´an.

The people of Xianle would have still considered the people of Yong´an beneath them.

Jian Lan would have been still kidnapped and raped by one man of Yong´an without Jun Wu. Jian Lan lead protests against the people of Yong´an for them to be exiled.

All Jun Wu did in the beginning was using three puppets for the last spark that turned the already bad situation in an open revolt against the royalty of Xianle.

Lan Ying , whose son died, would have also existed, that would later acquire the "aura of a king".

The other countries that helped the rebels would have been also around.

The rebels were problematic for Xie Lian, as he understood them, that is the reason he did not kill Lan Ying, when he should have done it. The "aura of a king" prevented even a god, to harm Lang Ying later. The uncertainty was already in Xie Lian back then, all Jun Wu had to do, was taking care that Xie Lian was driven mad.

So the human face disease came along and Jun Wu used people that already existed for this...when I remember Xie Lian discovered that Lang Ying intervened here as well. There was probably a curse put on the corpse of his son. Jun Wu tested Xie Lian if he rescued his own people and committed a great sin for this: the genocide of the people of Yong´an. He did not and Xianle fell.

Xie Lian´s self-confidence was damaged severly.

Even if Jun Wu had not intervened, the problems would have still persisted. Desperate people take desperate measures. It is funny, if the author literally let some people spill that out in another account, when the ill people suffering from human-face disease burned the faces of the disease from their body parts.

Another instance that desperate people take desperate measures and a revolt would have happnened eventually:

A revolt might have still happened and then Xie Lian would have been forced to beat down people that were actually just desperate. Xie Lian would have also not wished to extinguish them and then the rage hidden inside of the people of Yong´an would have still lasted as even now the gods are against their wellbeing. Another revolt would have been just occured after some time.

Xie Lian learnt during this time enormously, how much he did not know about people and his own country. The former Crownprince and now god had actually made assumptions that did not hold true at all, later. And that would have been still the case even without Jun Wu.

"It began with a natural disaster, but was deteriorated by human actions."

The family was merely a catalyst...not the only cause of the revolt.

The matters they had to think about was a lil bit more complicated than Xie Lian had previously thought.

What use was that help? It was that XL's intentions matter here, not his actions. Take a look at this passage

Good intentions are nice, but idealism alone doesn´t save anybody. People need bread, water or help as long as they live. As they are people of flesh and blood.

In fact as the state preceptor states here...good intentions can even be harmful.

Because it was a failure...Even if we count in Jun Wu´s intervention in the matters of Xianle, Xie Lian did not understand much about the worldly affairs and did help both sides, even though it was clear that they would have never shaken hands afterwards.

At least he should have exterminated Yong´an´s people if he wanted to save Xianle or let the natural decline of Xianle occur. Gods aren´t almighty beings and neither is Xie Lian.

I think one can even make the argument, that the state preceptor, even though he soon guessed that Jun Wu was "his prince", was correct here. Xie Lian caught Jun Wu´´s attention due to his actions and words...and it provoked the evil part of him to bring Xie Lian down. Surely it was unintentional by Xie Lian, but nevertheless the outcome is the same.

That is why the tale with the "second cup"...third option...is a fairy tale...a part of this fiction that demonstrates how utterly naive Xie Lian was in the past. Good intentions are not enough.

Xie Lian realized again and again...that gods cannot give " a second cup"...a third option...they are not almighty.

He realized it, when he cut the food of that man that once gave him an umbrella in order to save him...

Here it is even directly in the texte. Xie Lian has no other option, even though he is a god.

Xie Lian realized it when he could no longer kill Lang Ying...he had hesistated too long.

Yes, it's true that FX and MQ are highly incompatible but again it doesn't fall to Xie Lian to make them get along. He still tries though, because he's good at it. He's able to calm FX down before he jumps to accusing MQ of something and ask him to first listen to what MQ has to say when he will not speak up, as well as remind MQ that FX is not capable of scheming against him as he will just silently brood in his head about him conspiring against him. They would truly not be friends without XL.

I disagree, he is very well responsible as he chose them as his servants, so he was also responsible for make it work. You literally complained of them arguing, so you are aware that it did not work out.

In fact Feng Xin always declined everything Mu Qing suggested, sometimes really diminshed him. Even if Mu Qing meant well, like he often did in the past - in contrast his later god form. Xie Lian had no better concept than distracting them, but he had no longer the strength to do so after the fall of Xianle.

'Did not want to eat the food offered to him-' ah I see you're the type of person who takes the characters words at face value and ignores their actions and what the narrative is saying. What does this passage say? That Xie Lian had only been in a mortal body again after a long time and forgotten that he needed to eat to sustain it? And not that he was being picky about food, or going on a starving spree to throw a tantrum about poor food? But we see how MQ here assumes the worst of XL as he often does all throughout the novel, because of his own resentment towards XL? There are many such examples in the book.

I´d wish you would actually look at the texte and understand the meaning.

He is still picky about food, if even his mother told us so, but I at least give you this, that he might be not used to the experience.

Xie Lian finally understood being picky about food after months of having barely food, was not a good thing. That realisation came to him directly before he tried to rob people. That means he must have been picky before, or that passage here would be senseless.

No, Mu Qing just had most likely less patient with Xie Lian as they lived literally a miserable life and he was the one caring for everybody else, doing chores and work with the other two on top of it. He had more workload than anybody else and nobody considered to help him.

It is not that hard to imagine that Mu Qing is overworked having double the amount of work as the other two.

He is losing it, when they lose their money, after the other two joined in a fight due to people making fun of the statue of Xie Lian.

They turned everything of his suggestions down to make their precarious situation better, he had double the work than anybody else and it just got worse and worse. Honestly, they should have ignored these people and just forget Xie Lian´s pride that was still far too important. I understand that a Crownprince still needed to adapt, but it happened unfortunately far too late.

After the fight, Mu Qing must have felt so at the end of his wits, that he just saw one possibility: to leave...I am not sure, if he had really intended to go back, but I do understand, why he left. It is important here, that Mu Qing left directly after they lost money again and Xie Lian said nothing and Feng Xin didn´t want to face the truth.

I also do think his reasons to leave were reasonable: He had cared for his mother since he was a child and he could see no other way.

Even the way Mu Qing left is a great example of the servant-master relationship between Mu Qing and Xie Lian.

Xie Lian commands "enough"..Mu Qing bowed deeply and walked away.

Sadly, Xie Lian could not imagine, that maybe they could have made his life a lil easier by sharing Mu Qing´s responsibilities or maybe showing him that they all worked to get better...But by refusing to actually address their problematic situation, nothing would be solved.

The crux is that neither Mu Qing, nor Feng Xin were his friends. They were his servants. So Xie Lian is departing reality here and bad living conditions are even a reason for couples to break up. I mean Xie Lian is refering to fairy tales here.

Here is another instant that makes it painfully clear, that Xie Lian is only fooling himself about the truth of their relationship: Feng Xin and Mu Qing were his servants, not his friends. The former master and Crownprince wonders, what Feng Xin thought about his treatment.

Xie Lian was afraid the last of his remaining servants would leave him too.

Unfortunately Feng Xin was completely unaware of Xie Lian´s feelings and expressed what he thought.

Xie Lian is then "paying" Feng Xin in order for him to stay...It is an expression of their master-servant relationship, but also of Xie Lian´s fear to be left behind.

Don´t misunderstand me: Xie Lian is a kind person, but he certainly had too much pride after the fall of Xianle and did make mistakes, like everybody else. And he was also idealistic and kind..that´s a difficult thing to be, if you are poor.

Bit by bit, the realisation how dire their situation was, came slowly. After months they finally basked, like Mu Qing suggested. If they had done so months before, there would have been likely three people and not just two.

Really tired of constantly seeing posts declaring that everyone in MXTX novels is complicated and 'morally grey' and that's what makes her works wonderfully written, and that everyone else who doesn't see that is stupid, or is 'demonising' characters and bashing them for rightfully criticising their shitty, very much unjustified actions.

And ironically it seems so simplistic to just declare that, because yes her stories are wonderfully written and complex, but not for that reason. You're clearly not reading her works and only spouting what you think her stories say. There are many morally grey characters in morally complex stories out there, but MDZS IS NOT ONE OF THEM.

NONE OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS (i.e protagonists and their male leads except for LBH maybe) ARE MORALLY GREY OR MORALLY COMPLEX.

THEY ARE ALL MORALLY RIGHTEOUS.

Just take a closer look at their actions compared to the actions of literally everyone else around them, it's not that hard to see.

Not to mention that MXTX herself literally says that WWX and LWJ are both morally ideal and that ahe hopes her readers can be like them, but people seem to have no respect for the word of authors in the name of their self projection onto the characters being contradicted nowadays 😒

(also saw someone dismissively say that HC may think that the world revolves around XL or whatever, but others don't and they're right??

First of all, did you even read the novel? HC made his judgement based on how others treated him versus how XL did when he was a CHILD. And how XL continues to treat others to this day. He is well within his rights to think the world of XL, especially since XL suffered more than every other person and still doesn't succumb to evil, despite having every right to do so, miles more than others. He all but regards XL as his moral compass, because he's proof that truly good people do exist in this world, and not ONE other person in the novel is shown to be as good as him.)

One of the reasons why I really don't like the Xianle Trio is this; neither FX nor MQ seem to regard XL as his own person with his own agency, who is capable of making his own decisions initially as HC does, and only near the end of the novel do they let up a bit when their asses had to be saved by XL multiple times. (especially considering what fools they made of themselves in that spiderweb cave lmao)

Both of them try to enforce XL ALL THE TIME ("Your Highness don't do this or don't do that or don't say this or don't go there or don't talk to him"), as if XL has not survived perfectly well on his own without them FOR 800 YEARS.

The difference between them and HC is clearly spelled out when FC asks HC about why he is not stopping XL, and HC replies that while he may not agree with some of XL's decisions, he would never force him to do what he thinks is correct, something both MQ and FX are CONSTANTLY shown to try to do.

Like please. Xianle Trio who? More like suffering XL and his pair of nuisances who think themselves to be his babysitters. And most of the time he's the one babysitting them.

Another thing that irks me is that their frequent arguments are often played off for laughs, but XL is truly a saint, because if my friends were constantly bickering over petty things all throughout our dangerous journey and giving me nothing but headaches, especially in survival situations, I'd given them the boot a long time ago.

[rcksmith]

Distracted — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “shit, i forgot. I'm the one who asked for smut prompts #30, #31, #61 and #96. Could you write them for Five Hargreeves? Thank you! So sorry to spam you with the asks X-X”

Smut prompts :

30. “I’d hold on to something if I were you.”

31. “Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.”

61. “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

96. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem! Reader.

Warnings: smut heavy, NSFW, dirty talk, swearing, degradation. (I was in a bad mood hkjskjs)

Word count: 4k

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. It was explicit, hanging from his chest on a giant sign that said: “ABANDONATE THE HOPES IF YOU ENTER HERE.” And he knew that.

Inside his body he housed a sarcastic, explosive and sulky soul, with no patience for half the world. Everything about him exuded a dangerous, authoritarian, arrogant energy, mixed with distilled look that have always been able to subdue anyone.

Five is the type of man who, while everyone dreams of easy solutions, he knows that if he wants something to be done he will have to do it himself. He likes a hunting, taking the lead in any situation, having no problem breaking rules to make things happen.

And he was perfectly comfortable with that. Taking control of his world. Until, of course, you show up. Taking the key to his Olympus as if it had always belonged to you.

You were the one thing that Five Hargreeves couldn't subdue. He was unable to impose to you his reputation as a man who should not be challenged. Because that was exactly how the world saw Five. Like a man you don't challenge. Even his siblings realized, after a certain point, that it was not advisable to play with him.

But, apparently against all common sense, none of this had an effect on you.

You were not afraid, or pondering your words. You rolled your eyes at the things he said, mocked his arrogance and always looked at him with a combination of a smile and a look that, holy mother of God, Five hated. It was the typical expression that said: “ I know a lot more than you do, but I will be quiet because you are not worth my time.”

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But you raised it to stratospheric proportions.

It was completely exasperating, outstanding, you were a brat who didn't hear the voice of an adult, so used to being daddy's little girl. Because that was how he saw you. You were only 24 age while he was 30. It was expected that you heard him! But no. You did not give a damn.

“If you listened to me and chose the Colombian, that wouldn't be so bad!” Five scolded again.

This was the twentieth time he had said that to you.

There was a routine with the Hargreeves siblings: you brought coffee on Mondays, since you passed a great coffee shop on the way. Diego was responsible for bringing Japanese food on Wednesdays, Luther for Indian food on Fridays and Klaus for pizzas on Saturdays. It was a banal thing, but it brought a comforting feeling of, no matter how not anyone would admit, tradition.

But it was obvious that you had to piss Five off on that too.

“And I already said that they don't do the Colombian before ten in the morning.” You passed the page of a magazine you were reading, ignoring his tantrum.

“And you can't wait ?!”

This time you looked up at Five, giving a mocking expression.

“Oh, forgive me, your majesty. I will delay my journey just because your eexcellency wants Colombian coffee.” You laughed, turning your attention to the magazine.

Five felt the tips of his ears heat up, the fingers of his hands go white from the force that he clenched his fists. You were so fucking annoying!

"You are unbearable." He said, because he saw no other way to express the hateful little monster you were.

You looked up at him again. “Serious? Me? You are the one who is complaining about not getting your blend coffee.” You turned your attention to the magazine “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

What?! Fucking what?!

Five opened his mouth in bewilderment, now anger rising up his neck. How dare you, fuck?! You were younger than him!

"What did you say?!" He repeated, his voice low but deep, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

You didn't take your attention away from the magazine by replying: “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

Oh, no. Oh fucking no.

Five slammed the coffee travel cup on the kitchen counter, walked over to you and closed your magazine brutally. You looked at him indignantly.

"What a fuck ..."

But Five didn't give you time to finish. He stuck both hands in your arms, forcing you to get up from the chair so quickly that the object fell to the floor. He pushed you back, lifting you up and making you sit at the wooden table, his eyes still on fire with your words.

"Child, isn't it ?!” He snarled, spreading your knees with his hands, settling his body still standing between your legs.

You were wide-eyed. Looking at him in amazement. Your heart was pounding in your chest so hard that you thought Five would be able to hear it, while your breath had been lost somewhere between the path from your lung to your nose.

Holy shit.

It was no secret that Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. This was not an opinion, it was a fact. With midnight hair, emerald green eyes and alabaster skin, it was not surprising that he was able to steal his breath wherever he went. And you were not immune to his charm. To be honest, you never thought it would be.

But the difference between you and the girls who fell at his feet was that ... well, you practically lived with the guy every day. You had been friends with Klaus for two years, and as a result you ended up becoming friends with the brothers and captivating them. It was almost atypical that you weren't with them. So, as a result, you ended up having time with Five too.

And, truth be told, it destroyed your will to want to impress him. As was common whenever see someone beautiful. Five Hargreeves was, in every way, arrogant. Irritating. Unbearable. Maybe it was your lust mixed with irritability, but you decreed that you didn't like him. That you would never want to fall into his bed.

Well…until now.

Until he accommodates his fucking tall, lean, firm body in the middle of your legs. Until his hands are glued to your arms in a touch of fire. Until your heart was racing like never before.

"You called me a child, didn't you?"

You wouldn't be able to answer anything in that second, even if your life depended on it. So you just nodded, a slow, cautious nod, like prey looking at hunter.

"I will show you my age!"

Five kissed you. In a way that no one had kissed you before. It was something hungry, angry, full of lust and with a desire that made you sigh softly. His hands were still on your legs, coming down to the back of your knees and pulling you firmly forward, sticking your whole body against his in a possessive way. His tongue invaded your mouth without waiting for an invitation, renouncing everything you had to offer as his.

That was a really kiss.

You put your hands on the back of his neck, running your fingers over the silky, black strands, letting your body be pressed against his as if you had been waiting for it a lifetime. Five pulled your legs closer, guiding you to close them around his hips and, once you did, his hands, determined and hungry, roam the sides of your body possessively.

"Five ..." a groan cut off your speech when his hands clung to your waist, pressing the hard and firm member to your core covered in the thin legging pants you wore.

"You already moaning and I haven't even touched you yet." His voice was overwhelmingly arrogant, full of amusement and convincing.

You were going to answer, because you weren't the kind of girl who kept quiet with a tease, but Five's hands made your waist roll around handily against his member, and a louder groan interrupted any line of reasoning you had.

“Oh, how adorable.” He scoffed, lowering his mouth to your neck and closing a hickey where pulse was “I wonder how the moaning will be when I do ...”

His right hand moved up to the inside of your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles until he got to where you needed it most. “This.” Then he forced the movements where your clitoris was covered.

Your groan was louder than you would like to admit. The air became caustic, rarefied, the atmosphere became something breathtaking, claustrophobic, poignant. And, before you know it, it was already a wet clay in his hands.

Five Hargreeves had won. He had you exactly where him wanted.

Your moans grew louder when he tuned his thumb movements together with his pelvis movements against you. Your hands tightened on the back of his neck, your teeth closed on your lower lip in order to contain the volume, and your breathing was shaky. Your hips pushed against him, the thin leggings being smeared by the arousal that oozed from you, and as soon as his hand was only an inch away, you followed it with your hips.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” Five played with the voice at the bottom of your ear.

You pulled the air against your teeth, whimpering, wanting anything he could give you.

“I bet ...” his lips slid under your skin without kissing, just making you wish, up to your lips and hovering there, a sigh away “If I asked you to take your clothes off and let me fuck you in this table like a good whore, you would gladly do. It is not?”

His free hand went to your face, taking a stir of your hair out of your eyes and placing it behind your ear. You were unable to contain the moan, closing your eyes tightly for a second, trying to contain how much your body screamed.

"Y-yes." You whined.

“Good." Five sprinkled a kiss on your lips before walking away.

You opened your eyes, your chest rising and falling with your heaving breath, your legs shaking. Your body screamed in protest at the separation, and you sent him a confused and inquiring look.

“You will learn who is in charge here." Five gave you a sly smile. "I'm only going to fuck you when you understand this."

Then he turned his back on you, took the coffee and disappeared in the blue flash.

This son of fucking bitch!

- - -

You were angry and frustrated. To say the least. Your body was on fire and mind replayed that day over and over in your head. It had been four days since Five's little exploits in the kitchen, and, to be honest, not only had he started the teasing.

Five gave you malicious and discreet smiles, gestured a lot more with his hands when he spoke just to remind you of what they could do. He hovered his body close to your whenever possible, brushing his shoulder against your, his hand gently on your back when he needed to pass beside you. His fingers even slid under your thigh under the table when you were having dinner. It was always like that.

And you were already crazy.

In the beginning, you sent him and their little game go to hell. He was not going to get what he wanted. But as the days went by, and Five started to touch you more often, the fire inside you burst, and it felt a lot less... torture if you just... gave in. The thought of sleeping with someone else just to appease that didn't bring you the same euphoria, you didn't just want sex, you wanted Five.

You knew he was playing with you. Just wanted you to give a sign that you were surrendering, so that he could give you what you wanted.

And after seven days, you gave in.

It was Monday, your mood was already an angry monster, but this time, you arrived a little later.

“Y/n, you are lateeeeee.” Klaus sang from the kitchen, biting off a large chunk of whatever it was before he sat down.

Vayna, Luther and Five were also at the table. Vayna and Luther talking about nothing important and Five reading a book under metaphysics.

"Traffic."

You lied, placing the tray of coffees in the middle of the table. Five and Luther were the first to get, Vayna still getting used to coffee addiction.

“Allison and I are going to watch something today. Why don't you come with us? ” You sat next to Klaus, throwing one leg over his.

"Is it going to be in the cinemove?”

He denied “In the living room, you can sleep here after."

You shrugged. “Okay.”

"Did you go to a different coffee shop?" Luther raised his eyebrows, having just swallowed his coffee.

“No, why?”

“It tastes different.” He drank some more.

“It is Colombian.” You put the cards on the table, in a game that only you and Five knew.

You didn't look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you and a sly, malicious smile brushing the right side of his mouth. That was the only interaction that you felt Five driving you that day. The hours had passed and it was already one in the morning when the movie in the mansion's ended. It was not atypical you slept in the mansion, the guest room was almost called “your room” at that time. But there was… there was something different this time.

As you unbuttoned your pants, with the night breeze coming in through the window, you thought that maybe it was because you never slept there having feelings for one of the siblings. So impure feelings. There was something about sleeping under the same roof as Five that made you ... nervous. But as soon as you removed the piece and placed it on the bed, the blue flash flashed behind you.

Your whole body went tense, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your heart was racing as if, suddenly, you had just returned from a marathon. You swallowed, the heat of his body hitting your back, while his hand went up your arm gently.

"You are such a good girl." Five's voice made your legs tremble, the butterflies in your stomach roll.

In this moment, feeling things that you never thought you would be able to feel, you wished always were a good girl for him.

"Did you do that for me?" His mouth joined the pice of your shoulder and neck.

You knew he knew he did, but the bastard wanted to hear it from you. Five wanted you to confirm that he had won.

“Yes” You whispered, the moonlight allowing you to see when his hand went down to your belly, playing with the cos of your dark blue panties.

"I knew you would be a good girl for me."

Then, taking you by surprise, Five pushed your chest onto the bed, bending you over, pulling your hips towards his with the other hand. You sighed when you felt his already hard member hit your pussy just covered by thin panties, now wet with your mess. Your hands closed on the sheet, your heart almost screaming in relief at the contact of his body behind you.

God, you wanted him so fucking much...

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Hargreeves reflected on a rhetorical question, his hands sliding over your surrendered body, squeezing your flesh with a force that would leave marks.

You whimpered, rolling your hips over his member. "Please"

“What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” Five slapped your left cheek.

You moaned softly, tightening the sheet, your body refusing to remain an inch away from him. Your hips needed more from Five's, your whimpers increasing as he took off your panties and ran his fingers through your wet folds.

"Five!" You moaned louder, biting your lip as he played with your entrance.

"Should I just fuck you with my fingers?" He caused your entry with two digits "Or with my dick?"

You were an incoherent mess, days of denial and desire that burned arthrosis in your body.

"Answer me!" Five slapped you again, this time louder, more grotesque, making you cry out.

"Y-your dick!" You tried to say, “P-please. Fuck me with your dick, please. ”

You were desperate, that was the truth. Desperate for contact, desperate for touch. Desperate for anything that Five Hargreeves could want from you. Anything he wanted to give you.

"Hard?" His voice was now dark, slightly wicked.

“Y-yes! Please!”

Then Five stuck his hand to the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and pulling your face up, making you face the ceiling as he leaned over and snarled at your neck:

"How hard?"

"Give me all!" You begged “Please, Sir. Give me all."

That title seemed to drive him out of his mind. Because the only thing you had in response was the sound of his belt falling to the floor and the rustle of his pants and boxers down, his right hand never leaving your hair. You groaned in anticipation, tears pricking your eyes from the desire that had accumulated so long when you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance.

Five lowered his mouth to your ear, holding his hand more in your hair as he said: "I’ d hold on to something if I were you. "

Then he entered you. Hard, rough, wild. Opening all your walls and spreading your abundant liquid all over his dick. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, your nails etched hard on the sheet, tears streaming from your eyes without warning. Five gave you just a few seconds to settle for his size, starting to beat inside you at a relentless pace.

This time you screamed. Your heart pounding in chest, your pussy pulsing around Five with so much desperation that you heard him moan and curse behind you. The pace was rough, heavy, wild and full of lust. He fucked you like a rabid animal, devouring everything you had to offer, filling every last inch of you. The sound was of pornographic moans and bodies clashing with arrogance, filling the entire mansion with sounds that would not be forgotten.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, pushing your ass to Five at the same rate, making he hit the deepest spot inside you.

“Fucking such good slut!” He dumped one more slap on your ass, freeing his hand from your hair and joining both of them at your waist, pulling you towards him in an heavy rhythm.

Each thrust was an electric current poured into your body, excitement running down your thighs and melting both of you. Five groaned louder, leaning over and biting your shoulder, clenching his fingers aggressively against the innocent skin on your waist.

“I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.” Five blew in your ear, receiving a loud groan in return, as yours tears flowed.

Your pussy tightened around his dick, pulsing in such a tight way for he.

"Oh, would you like that?" He teased you, feeling your walls tighten again. “I bet you would love to everbody see the slut you are to me. ”

"Sir!" You screamed, throwing your head forward, pressing your forehead to the sheet as you sobbed.

"Answer!" One more slap.

"Y-yes! I-I like could show that I'm your slut! ” You sobbed.

Five came out of you, making you whimper loudly in frustration. He turned you over on the bed, placing you in the center as he climbed on top of you, settling in between your legs and entering without warning again. You screamed, sinking your face into his neck as your legs closed around his waist, pulling his deep into you.

"Such a good bitch."

Five felt your limit riding fast, leaving you more breathless, tearful and desperate. You no longer measured the volume of your moans, your hands clenching your nails on his back, your waist rolling around to make him inside deeper.

"S-sir!" Then, without being able to control yourself anymore, you exploded. Came in long streams of broken moans and shaky breathing.

Your head fell on the pillow, your chest arching while you were on top of the climax. Five groaned at the scene, his limit being your expression of pure ecstasy. He sank in you as anatomically as possible, filling you with the hot liquid that overflowed from inside you.

You were both panting, sweaty and tired. Five let himself relax on top of you, partially loosening his weight, still stirring a few strokes to ensure that you had welcomed all his cum.

"Good girl." He praised you, giving you a small kiss on the neck, stepping out of you and rolling to your side on the bed.

"That was ... wow." You laughed softly, trying to catch your breath.

Hargreeves laughed too, taking the time to get out of bed, looking for the boxers and pants. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly not knowing what to do or what to say. Your heart sank at the thought of him leaving, and your mouth was faster than your common sense in saying:

"Wait!"

Five turned to you, his brows furrowed in question as he buttoned his black pants.

"Can you ... could you ... stay?" You took a chance, your cheeks quivering under Five's intense gaze that never left you.

But, instead of the denial you were expecting, his eyebrows furrowed even more in doubt.

“But I am not leaving.” He said it as if it was obvious.

Did you blink a few times “No?”

“I was just going to get a towel to clean you up. There are certain things that I don’t like do naked.”

You opened your mouth to answer, a little shocked, but Five disappeared in the blue flash only to appear a second later, with a towel in hand. You sank into your own shame, muttering softly to yourself in incoherent sounds, you let Five clean you up.

“Did you think I was leaving?” He scoffed when he finished, looking at you with that smug look.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the side on the bed, your back to him.

"No." You mumbled.

Five laughed, settling better on the bed. "Come here." He said, patting his chest.

And, well, as much as you would like to consider yourself a rebellious girl, you did. Turning to him again, you snuggled into his body, laying your head on his chest while Five pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you.

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But at that moment, with you, you did not fail to notice the lazy and caring circles he made on your shoulder with his thumb.

Tagged: @bubblegumflamingos

[beneathashadytree]

Hii! I saw requests are open, I was wondering if you could write for Yuumori oneshot where (Y/N) is part of morigang and bonding with everyone especially after William's return? I'm craving for the found family comfort and I imagine (Y/N) helping Moneypenny with the housework now since everyone lives under the same roof and listen to Herder talking about his inventions (╥﹏╥) I'm not sure if there's character limit for requesting but if there is, just Louis, Fred, and Moneypenny(or William) would work fine. I'm sorry this came off too long, but if you decided to take in this request then thank you so much!💕

TO COME HOME - LOUIS MORIARTY, FRED PORLOCK, MONEYPENNY, AND WILLIAM MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : this is platonic and not romantic, this is once again not proofread, some mentions of knives, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic found family fluff <3

Word count : 1.3K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! I was a little confused as to how to format this, and decided in the end to stick to mini drabbles for each character! I added William as a bonus because I’m so soft for him🫠 I hope you enjoy this! 💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

The house had been so empty for so long, despite having been quite full of people for the most part. But the absence of three people who’d poured their hearts and souls into it meant that everything was far less livelier without them.

But now that they’re back, Louis had once again slipped into his role, taking the reins and directing everyone to ensure that this would become a perfect evening. Watching him put a smile on their face and a warmth in their heart—one that still remained even as they pushed through the crowds.

“Let’s not get separated,” he’d gently nudged them, encouraging them to hook their arms with his, and though they knew that his reasoning was sound, they understood that he simply wanted them close.

Humming as a familiar feeling of happiness enveloped them at the thought of picking out ingredients to cook a feast that gathered them all at the table, they couldn’t help but grin widely as they saw Louis frowning at the produce, as though demanding the freshest to show itself.

“It’s good to see you worrying about making hearty meals again,” they spoke their thoughts out loud, and Louis looked up with a blank, slightly confused expression.

They leaned in, thumb reaching out to smoothen the crease between his eyebrows, before picking out the vegetables they needed in a bag, elaborating as they did, “You’ve had a lot on your shoulders without them there, and now it’s relieving to see you worry about more mundane things.”

A slightly embarrassed flush made its way on his face, though his no-nonesense manner remained as he looked down, pretending to busy himself with doing the same.

“It’s a force of habit,” he cleared his throat, before falling silent for a moment, a softer look crossing his eyes, and he glanced at them, “It feels more like home when there’s good food.”

“And good company,” they added, as they both paid for their picks, before entwining their arms once again, squeezing his fondly, as he nodded in agreement, a half-smile on his face.

“And good company.”

“Do you need any help, Fred?” they asked, poking their head from behind the door to watch as he brought in bags teeming with the ingredients he’d been tasked with buying.

He gave them a small smile, making his way over to the kitchen counter and setting the bags down carefully, “No, thank you.”

“It’s been a while since you last shopped for so many people. I bet you’re tired,” they kindly patted his back, ignoring what he’d said and rolling up their sleeves as they switched the faucet on, “Could you just dry the fruits after I wash them? That way we could get done with this quicker. Louis said he’d make an assortment of fruits pie.”

Giving up on trying to get things done on his own, his body visible relaxed, nodding along to their request and taking position beside them.

“This routine’s nice,” he softly admitted, his sweet smile warming their chest inside.

If there was anything they’d missed more than anything, it was the way Fred tended to smile to himself when his self-fulfillment demanded that he take care of others in his own small ways that always amount to something larger than could ever be expressed in words. With the house turned into a home once more, they knew they’d see more of that content expression.

“It is, isn’t it?” they chuckled, rinsing another apple and handing it to him to towel it off, before wrinkling their nose as the next think they picked up was a bag of fish, “I’d almost forgotten about William’s… odd… fascination with fish-containing desserts.”

Fred blinked, a look of mild horror on his face, realizing that Louis had specifically requested these for his older brother’s favorite stargazy pie.

“I don’t think I’ve missed that,” he mumbled under his breath, not-so-discreetly shoving the bag to the side, not even sparing it another glance—and they couldn’t help laughing at his rather endearing put-off expression.

“Would you be a darling and help me out over here?” Moneypenny’s voice came from behind them, and they turned to see her rolling up her sleeves and tying her hair back in preparation for a proper day of extensive washing, “I can’t reach the curtain rail without using a chair, and all of the sturdy ones have been taken out for the dinner party.”

“Sure thing, Penny,” they nodded as they made their way over, before getting down on their knees and hoisting her up with their hands respectfully settled on her calf and shin, “Should I lift you up higher?”

“A little, yes,” came her voice from above, a bashful blush dusting her cheeks, “Sorry to be a bother. I normally do this myself, you know, but given the current circumstances…”

“You could never be one,” they kindly replied, a mischievous smirk making its way onto their face soon after, “And now that Moran’s back, you could always bully him for his height into doing more chores around the house.”

After being set back down to the floor, Moneypenny let out a chuckle of her own, “He’s got years to make up for. I won’t be letting him off easily.”

“I can’t imagine you would,” they happily agreed, wordlessly beginning to help her pick off the pins from the curtains, turning their head for a second to listen to the horrified yelp coming from the kitchen, “I think he’s found Albert in the kitchen again.”

Moneypenny blanched at their words, “Oh no… I don’t think I’d be able to take another round of food poisoning. Best let Bonde take the reins.”

After they’d both finished their ends, they plopped the curtains down in the laundry basket. Looking up momentarily, they shared a knowing smile as the ruckus from the kitchen only grew louder.

“It feels like home again, doesn’t it?” she pensively said, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

They could only swallow thickly, fondness tugging at their heart strings at the familiarity of it all; the sense of completeness that washed over them.

“It does indeed.”

William heard the footsteps long before he felt their presence behind him. A faint smile made its way onto his face as he diced the carrots to his best abilities, pretending he hadn’t heard them.

“You’ve gotten better with a knife, William,” they commented, a slightly cheeky smile on their face as they peered at his handiwork, “Did it take you three years to perfect it?”

His crimson eye twinkled with amusement as he set the knife down, “Hardly. Two and a half, actually.”

They let out something between a laugh and a sob, and William felt his heart pound in his chest. He knew exactly what they were feeling; what everyone in the mansion was feeling at the moment—that sense of comfort and familial affection that they’d missed too much to ever be able to express.

Still, it surprised him to feel a pair of arms slink around his waist and tentatively hug him from behind. Startled, he was thankful that he’d had the common sense to set the knife down beforehand, because now his reflex was to stiffen momentarily. As their cheek pressed against his back, he relaxed, a soft smile making its way onto his face, as his vision blurred with unshed tears he tried his best to blink away.

“Welcome home, William,” their words came out muffled and wobbly against his shirt.

The blonde couldn’t help but affectionately pat their arms and squeeze them just a little tighter in response, his heart swelling in his chest ten times bigger. His family wasn’t made of 3 anymore, and he mattered to them so much more than he’d ever dared to allow himself to wish he did.

“I’m home,” came his reply rather belatedly, but the words that he’d been wanting to say for years had already been cast, and they settled over them like a well-loved, warm blanket.

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[chekovs-merkin]

like lucasfilm have created this weird paradox where every character death generates speculation bordering on expectation that the character will come back somehow, and so being put on a bus has literally become a fate worse than death in that the audience is being trained to see it as character retirement*. If a character is put on a bus, the creators probably don’t know what to do with them or have had their ideas barred higher up, which is a sign of poor planning from folks who like to make it look like they have years and years planned ahead. and when permadeaths do happen, their impact becomes hollow, with a side of immersion-breaking, because much as the invested audience mourns the loss of the character, they know that the only thing that makes this particular death permanent is that the creators need it to be so.

to put it in examples, why did Wrecker and Reva survive when Tech and Kanan (or worse yet, Qui Gon, though he’s not from this era of canon and should probably remain out of this argument) didn’t?

Maul’s survival is accepted by (most of) the fandom on the sheer luck of the posterior use of the character being arguably some of the most interesting stuff to happen in modern Star Wars and his arc is now done and any new maul content should be about his crime syndicate era do not bring him back again

Ahsoka was saved from what would have been a very fitting death (I’m not complaining too hard, but it would have been fine if she’d stayed dead too) and the mental gymnastics to justify her seeming passiveness in the years before her appearance in Mandalorian have been pretty much award winning, because she could not have been around for the OT but Papa Dave couldn’t stand to kill her like he did Kanan**. And that was in fact neither the first nor the last time she was put on a bus but nvm the other ones (the first was necessitated by clone wars being cancelled, and i’m holding judgement on the second for now)

Most of the above goes too for Boba Fett and Fennec Shand, though in those cases I believe the responsibility lies with Favreau and to a lesser extent Rodriguez

Ventress was brought back from her always-intended death and appeared in an episode of tbb For No Reason basically, which felt to me like just rubbing salt on the wound tbh, and was really just a teaser for some future story which should involve quinlan ffs

Kino Loy will apparently be back in Andor for no reason other than Andy Serkis is a fucking delight, which, I agree with the sentiment, but his character came to a very natural end as it was

The s3qu3ls are a very bad offender for this, and one could even argue that they started the trend, but we don’t discuss those in this house

Don’t even get me started on schrodinger’s Moff Guideon, wanna bet he’s back soon?

For the worst offender of Bus worse than Death, I have only a question: WHERE IS KORKIE, DAVE?

There are probably other examples that i don’t remember now, but this took me longer than expected already so anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

*this is also inconsistent, i.e. why does hunter’s age signify his retirement when rex’s doesn’t? the watsonian explanation, of course, is that it’s their choice, and not even clones all have the same health, given differences in experience treatment environment etc and that goes doubly so for cf99. but from a doylist perspective, it’s probably because omega is destined for live action played by keisha castle hughes and ain’t nobody paying for temuera morrison to play half the characters on screen, much less for the makeup and sfx needed. And, like, that should be fine, except Star Wars has pretty much given up on hiding the hand behind the curtain so to speak, and I’m tired of that.

**this is not a filoni-bashing post. man’s done a lot of good things and the way he’s filled in ahsoka’s missing time is not entirely bad, though some aspects of it make me quite irritated. Also, he was involved only in a supervising capacity with tbb, as a consultant in Andor and Obi-Wan, and even less so with the s3qu3ls

my bad batch hot take is that wrecker should have died