#i simply think all signs point to it
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When you tell a milkvan that they used the score Eulogy (a song they notably use when a character is mourning a beloved characters' death) during Mike and El's fight in s4.
#byler#stranger things#like how can that be good?#how can that not be the epitome of bad news#if that happened to byler#i would wholeheartedly go out of my way to send other bylers#we lost#asks#bc we would deserve it#i've said it before and i'll say it again#i don't ship byler bc it's cute or bc it's two boys#i simply think all signs point to it#if i didn't i wouldn't be here#if i saw even half as much evidence supporting the possiblity of milkvan#i wouldn't be here#it's getting to a point where they're having to deny hundreds upon hundreds of things happening#in order to subscribe to milkvan#with the most superficial arguments imaginable#not only did they play a death song during el and mike's fight#they followed it up with mike saying it was a fight that you can't come back from?...#like let these bones rest in peace#let them mourn the death of their relationship#and move on#and be better off and happier for it
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Everlasting A5
#when I tried to post this tumblr signed me out of my account???#all that work and I wasn't even happy with it halfway through but now I love this thang. yay#X's clock hand has no gears on it for lore reasons and not because I didn't wanna draw it I swear#this is actually the first time I've drawn both Abram and Abel. Abram was a darling to draw and Abel had his face redrawn 14 times#I believe it's physically impossible not to make Adam look real pretty in literally anything. plus I took tattoo liberties and I like em#he's barefoot in my heart but unfortunately I cannot draw feet.#anyways. justifications:#Time Duck as an abno has its event centred around what one perceives it to be - a rabbit or a duck#this links to Fau in how it can be unclear when it is her and when it is the Gesellschaft. who she is at any one point is somewhat up to yo#and I think it links very similarly to the A5 - are they truly all one in the same#or are they different people with the same - or similar enough - starting points#especially for X - which is why he's the goopy-est - is he simply Ayin once again or has he changed to the point of being his own person#that goes for every loop's X as well. can the same shape change enough in ones eyes to become an entirely different animal#also the time theme and Fau's corrosion quote 'Thus. You cease to move. Trapped in the stopped time. For eternity'#is an obvious reference to the time loop shenanigans at L Corp HQ#they are all trapped by him in the same 50 days. never to move forward with the rest of the world. for a practical eternity#also doomsday clock on Fau's corrosion is a reference to how A and D keep paralleling eachother and probably know eachother from somewhere#the tremor on the E.G.O is like how each thing that happened brought him closer to the brink [aka the stagger threshold]#and the sinking on the gift [gestures at Abram]#plus the mechanical theme connects to how Ayin looked towards the seemingly infallible idea of the machine in his time of need#fanart#ayin lobcorp#abram lobcorp#abel lobcorp#adam lobcorp#x lobcorp#lobotomy corporation#limbus company#🌑🌘🌗🌖🌕#NEVER DRAW GEARS PLEASE JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE IT IS NEVER WORTH IT
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Look, her hair's a bird nest! Ha. Get it? Bird....
I'm trying to practice weird angles and poses rn I guess, well drawing as much as I can in general :D even though I hate I can't fully draw their outfits lol
These two HATE each other btw, if you're curious about lore
#i keep sketching and then end up getting sucked into it#good sign i suppose :D#this is way more rendered than i intended though 😭😭#i was simply sketching her face at a weird angle and then it progressed lol#id like to draw all of my god ocs like this#but i shouldnt act too hasty lol knowing me#but gah ive been thinking so much abt designs lately. i love them 😭😭😭 my babies#even to the point where im considering trying to get into character design again +#and finish the rest of the planets#having lots of thoughts abt jupiter and mars and earth who ive never really touched#so maybe ill post concept art if i actually get to it#idk. i havent created an oc since 2020 so it feels scary 😭😭#catie.art.#oc art
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yes, the plans that i could not share with you (because the haters would sabotage me) were that i was taking on LACC in my vash getup :)
i have so few pictures of myself but i got so many compliments (especially on my arm) and plenty of other people took pictures of me. and normally i don't like attention but i will be honest with u. under these circumstances i loved it. my arm held up really well through 8 hours on the convention floor and i have never been prouder of anything i've made. it's articulated incredibly well, no part of it gave out or required repair, it's never uncomfortable or a nuisance to wear, and i have enough range of motion to do relatively complex things like tying my shoes.
originally i was not planning to try to meet anyone famous because 1) it's expensive and 2) the lines are long and 3) i feel weird and annoying approaching literally anyone for any reason BUT. the spot where i met up with my sister just happened to be right next to johnny yong bosch's table. right when he started signing things. so i said LOL ok i'll do it.
it was super chill, i asked him how it felt to get the call that they wanted him to come back 20 years later for a trigun reboot and he said it almost didn't happen -- that since they recast everyone else for stampede they considered recasting vash as well (and i said WOW i'm so glad they didn't) and he said he really enjoyed getting to come back and explore a darker take (i forget if what he said was a darker take on vash's character, or just a darker trigun in general) but it was briefly surprising 2 me that he considered stampede to be a darker version but i get it, especially when u consider that there is not a lot of comedy in those 12 episodes to balance out the grief.
ANYWAY he was impressed with my arm and i asked him if he would sign my coat :) so he signed the lining but he was also like u know what, i'm gonna give you a second autograph just because. so he signed a print for me as well (free of charge!!) and the print with the blue signature matches my famous paintings that i always film in front of (that's providence baybee)
other stuff from the con under the cut
cosplay notes:
i saw 3 other vash cosplayers (a 98 vash, a stampede vash, and a purple coat vash) and no shade but i definitely had the best arm build. peace and love to all of them though
i saw 1 1/2 wolfwoods. 1 was the aforementioned mullet wolfwood from yesterday's post (ww if you’re out there ww) and the 1/2 was the 98 vash cosplayer’s gf in some kind of goth-ish dress and she was carrying a punisher
mullet wolfwood if you're out there i regret not getting a picture with you so much. i am deeply ashamed and i have no excuse because i ran into you twice and both times i was too embarrassed to ask for a picture. i just want you to know that your punisher was swag and your earrings were yolo and we would look very good together
i expected to see a lot more trigun tbh. los angeles where u at. 4 vashies at a convention of 120,000+ people is nothing. one guy even walked up to me like wow i love ur vash, i haven't seen a lot of trigun at this con and i was like I KNOW i thought i'd see a lot more
theeeee costume of all time award goes to the cad bane cosplayer i saw on the balcony. spare hand in marriage dude (gn) you looked so good
second place for costume of all time goes to the other mother cosplayer who had button eyes and these crazy finger appendages and never once broke character even while waiting in lines
i took 100 points of psychic damage from this one guy who (and im not kidding) was at least 6’4’’ and wearing platform boots and was dressed as the mfing onceler. with the stupid top hat he was fr 7+ feet tall (i saw him duck to get through a doorway).
someone was there as the brawny paper towel guy?? just walking around in a beard and flannel carrying a pack of paper towel rolls?? go off king
i saw 5 nightwing cosplayers but only 2 were biblically accurate (had ass)
the nanami sweep at this convention was so real u all SHOWED UP. and everybody ate. i saw at least 12 nanamis and not one of them was a flop.
i have never seen so many spider-mans in my life
other things:
fig. 1: this extremely hot captain america on a very large poster was about 2 make me act unwise. hi gorjus................................. nice eyebrows
fig 2: i saw this sign a couple blocks away from the con and i did a triple take. 🔥🔥🔥TRIMAX MENTIONED🔥🔥🔥
fig. 3: i saw all 4 hobbits in panel and can confirm elijah wood’s laugh is ten times more infectious in real life. before they were even done sitting down, dominic monaghan switched around all of their name cards so that none of them were seated behind the right name. as u might imagine much of the panel's content was reminiscing about LOTR, but i heard some stories that i hadn't heard before. they also talked about video games, other projects they are working/have worked on, how their kids feel about their dads' LOTR roles, how much they love ian mckellen, and how they would love to see something happen for the 20th anniversary of ROTK this year. sean astin (the legend) took shots at the stranger things writers (basically said joyce could never be happy with hopper) AND EVERYONE CLAPPED LOL. billy and dom talked about the best food in NZ, their show billy and dom eat the world, and the unfortunate events that led to the friendship onion's hiatus. it was a ton of fun to just watch them be themselves with each other, you can tell that these guys are all so fond of each other and love each other so much.
and finally, fig. 4: i bought these beautiful prints from @/batinyourbelfry and the skeletal washi tape from @/skeletalacademia (both on IG)
#this post is all over the place but i want u all to experience this with me. baby's first convention#i didn't hate it like i thought i might but i am absolutely WIPED and will b perfectly content to not go to another con for several years#lacc#los angeles comic con#it's so funny walking around and just hearing someone go VASH and literally being like. who said that.#like there are 5 million people in this corridor. where are u so i can acknowledge you#my immediate defense mechanism is to toss up a peace sign so it's very convenient that it is something in character for vash#my favorite compliment was this one guy who was just like 'THAT'S FUCKIN SICK' from across the aisle and i was like 'YEAH!!!!'#long post#ackchewally the more i think about it. i do think sometimes people mischaracterize stampede as lighter than the other triguns#simply because the characters look more baby than their other counterparts#even though many elements of stampede are. truly so dark.#like we are not at manga-level-dark yet but HOO BOY i have no doubt we will get there#i'm dying to see what other horrors orange is cooking bc i KNOW they're cooking awful manga things (laudatory)#hot single dads in your area#my cosplay#this post has taken me hours to write. im so sick of it at this point begone from my sight i hate u
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Google how to make peace with the fact that you will always be vaguely to extremely uncomfortable (depending on the day) with your body and how others perceive it until the day you die and nothing you do will ever change that
#I almost wish I was much more masc leaning than I am#so the answer would just simply be ‘go on t’#I keep seeing so many posts that are like hrt is good! this is your sign to go on hrt if you’ve ever wanted to!#GOD I wish I were that simple#(those aren’t bad posts that’s not the point they’re just not applicable to me and seeing the sentiment makes me sad and a bit frustrated)#(cuz for me it’s not that easy)#like are there some things T would do to my body that I would like?#yes absolutely. I would LOVE a deeper voice and fat redistribution#but like. that’s it#I would not want it to do anything else#in fact that idea of anything else and potentially ‘passing’ as a man makes me VISCERALLY uncomfortable#I do not want to be a man and I do not want ppl to perceive me as a man#but the same is true for being a woman#I do not like a lot of feminine traits but I do not want to strictly trade them for masculine ones#UNFORTINATELY you cannot pick and choose the affects of hrt#there is no way to ‘look androgynous’ (which is what I want)#(yes ik you can use shapewear and makeup and contour and that can do SOME)#(but it’s A LOT of work and effort I don’t have time or energy to do every day)#(and there’s still some things about my body I wouldn’t be able to alter doing stuff like that)#and it’s like sure I could go on T. but I’d still have this problem just the opposite direction#and it. sucks#it sucks so hard knowing there’s literally no conceivable way I will ever just have a body#that correlates to how I feel gender wise and will get people to ‘gender me correctly’#just based on how I look#and it’s something I’ve been thinking about recently a lot and it’s making me FHDJDKKSSKKSKS in a bad way#I know it’s cuz it’s pride month and I follow A LOT of trans ppl#who are posting trans pride and hrt and surgery info and stuff#(and obviously these are all very good things as I said)#it’s just. because of my particular situation they make me feel… bad#because I won’t ever have an option to be comfortable and happy with how I look lol
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making posts about headcanons that have basically no textual backing makes me itchy but someday i should probably elaborate on my opinion that "mirabelle being aroace is the one thing keeping her oblivious to the fact that the dormont house of change is the religious coven equivalent to fleetwood mac"
#i was reading claude's pursual of euphrasie as cute but ill advised the whole time. like i was cheering for her but in the same way#you'd cheer for like. a vriska. as in 'you go girl i love your chutzpah but this is going to end HORRIBLY you shouldnt be doing it'#like i think i have a slightly less charitable reading of euphrasie's communication abilities than most. i think theres a lot of signs that#she. much like everyone else in the entire game. couldve done with perhaps talking to the people she was supposed to like. trust#a bit more than she did. she seems to keep a lot of secrets that maybe wouldve been helpful for people to know. like mirabelle#or maybe it simply was that mirabelle was uniquely uninformed. though that seems odd given her dilligence#anyway most of all i generally think that romantically pursuing your very tall and pretty HEAD BISHOP/BOSS when you are#EFFECTIVELY SOME KIND OF NUN is absolutely baller and i love claude for it but that's such a WORKPLACE HAZARD#IT IS SUCH A WORKPLACE HAZARD. THERE SHOULD BE SAFEGUARDS IN PLACE. GIRL.#anyway finding out that by Word of God they are in fact Gal Pals was a bit disappointing to me. i was enamoured by the chase#i wanted claude to be more tortured than she truly was i do suppose#sigh. such is the way of things. she shall have to live on as a total girlfailure butch in my mind alone... i also thought itd be cute if#she was crushing on mirabelle too but thats even LESS founded in the text so im zipperlips'd on that#lucabytetalks#dont pretend like you people are surprised by the tag ramble being 3x the length of the post by this point. thats normal for me
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Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman
part one | part two
#toronto maple leafs#HELLO EVERYBODY THIS HAS BEEN MONTHS!!! MONTHS IN THE MAKING BECAUSE i AM UNHINGED AND NEEDED THE PRECISE PICTURES THAT I KNEW I WOULD GET#like. seventy five percent of this has been done since the first time i posted this and while it has gotten better with time because#my narratives simply got more complex and there's so much of this that is For Me but don't worry i will explain but aLSO goddamn mitch coul#you have gotten married any later in the year. also willy you truly disappointed me by not getting an absurd haircut this year (now that#i've said this he's going to debut it on instagram like. tomorrow. but anyway that meant y'all got to enjoy my neuroses of#Loving Tyler Bertuzzi who is a goddamn leaf. the joys of having to wait to post this (was not a leaf at the time i started it) and anyway i#have at length i think had the breakdown about tyler in pigtails girl dad & how i got a bob & then tyler copied me which was rude. that's m#gender. ANYWAY starting from the top we got sheldon keefe documentation which was really just the personal decision that i wanted all the#coaching staff to be the markers in the poem/the bold & also at the TIME keefe hadn't re-signed &we thought it might be everybody out w/kyl#anyway the title of the scrap of an old lover's flannel is literally 'u think this is about sheldon & kyle NO it's about timothy liljegren'#bc. liljegren was on the marlies winning cup team & has had a contentious relationship w/keefe ever since & was healthy scratched in playof#& the narrative is sooooo. also at one point for the ryan o'reilly i was going to edit the stlb out of his grandma's shirt or cover it w/th#childhood dreams line but THEN i found the gio snapped stick one which was too perfect for 'crumbling copy' the ryan o'reilly To Me is so.#ur insane in ways u did not think for that one. like. how soft her hands were. his grandma you guys. he grew up a leafs fan. if he ever get#to lift the cup with her again i will lose my shit. the cup run a movie i remember nothing--OKAY the spezz one i knew i needed him stresse#but also i believe in the spezz/kyle narrative so. it comes up later don't worry ALSO SPEZZ FOLLOWING HIM TO PITT CAME AFTER I MADE THIS bu#the muzz tea one makes me a little sensy bc muzz was out with an injury for most of this season & it was a really scary spinal one & so yea#& then the simmer one just straight up makes me cry bc i love him so much & the work that he does for anti-racism in hockey means so much &#if you have that video open & watch it i promise you will cry i do every time it's so beautiful he had to be on comforted by beauty & sammy#boy is on the a man who doesn't know me because EYE remember the caps goalie tandems. baby lilya. the mo one is a little funny bc it is#solely due to wade's thread about mo rielly the coal miner homestead husband. that's why he moves to omaha also i think it suits him (quiet#OK NOW OLD MEN IN LOVE NARRATIVE this one's in contention for my fave bc it's spezz coping w/retirement fundamental meaningless of existenc#u heard abt tyler already that's for me the minchy picture was just too good i had found it earlier & i spent SO LONG looking for an empty#leafs rink picture for bathtub i have some cool construction photos but i wanted the melting ice ones (thought about tahoe lol) & the sprin#one i manip'd a lot bc i needed a spring picture bc playoffs clinch in spring & that one fit so coincidentally perfect bc it's 7 straight#seasons 7 guys so. :) & i KNEW i swore to god they did more milk advertising i knew i was gonna do this one from the minute i saw the poem#the milk patch & it took a hot minute BUT I FOUND THIS ONE this one's for funsies. AND THE PIC I WAITED SO FUCKING LONG FOR this is actuall#from kerf's wedding but i was like i know on god mitch is getting married this summer & that's about to be the drunkest shenanigans wedding#i'm waiting for the pics. & then i was BLESSED with this one which is beautiful & perfect & LOOK AT THEM. anyway the last one is bc
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ocs
#angryborzoisart#oc#nonfandom oc#lansé is the one holding a peace sign#still havent decided on a name for the waving guy#in a nutshell theyre siblings though technically not related#lanse is the younger one but people think shes the older one#also im starting to think lanse is nb#maybe an amab she/they#anyways these two dont get along at all. they did at one point but well lanse is kind of a stuck-up jerk so..#not like anything major happened between them.. she just couldnt stand her brother's personality lol#not that he was a bad guy in any way (quite the opposite). lanse simply couldnt stand him..that was part of the reason for that matter#and also everything he said rubbed things the wrong way for lanse lol#yeah#and by “they dont get along” i mean like lanse completely ditched him lmao#told you shes a jerk lmaooo
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hey are you a terf ? you've been reblogging stuff from radfems ...
No, I'm not a terf, I support trans people 100%. Also terfs are uncomfortably cozy with the alt-right and that's uhhh... a whole other layer of awful.
But I think I may be following a secret terf? Tumblr keeps showing me these posts that are like "liked by someone you're following!" And I follow 4k people so I'm not like. Keeping track of anyone but my mutuals. And some of the posts tumblr shows me are obviously terfy which makes me go HMMMM but then some of them seem fine? So it's hard for me to tell the difference between "posts tumblr reccomends me that are normal and in line with the regular leftist and feminist things I'm into" vs like "posts tumblr reccomends me because they're liked by whatever secret terf I'm following and have suspicious undertones that aren't immediately obvious to me". I'm certainly not intentionally following any terfs or following anyone who publicly identifies as a terf* or puts terf shit on my dash but I'm apparently following someone who doesn't blog about terf shit but LIKES terf shit (and I think it might be a fandom blog so that makes it harder to identify) and then those likes show up on my dash and it's not always obvious that it's terf shit or from a radfem blog-- it's just a random posts from a url I don't know. And sometimes the posts themselves are fine on the initial read.
So pls let me know what the radfem blogs in question are so I can identify and remember them if they pop up on my dash again
*caveat that I've been on this website for 10+ years and follow 4,000+ people and it's theoretically possible that a blog I followed multiple years ago that I never see on my dash now publicly identifies as a terf, but I'm not gonna go through all 4k of my following to try and find out if any of them have become publicly shitty in a way that doesn't affect my dash in the years since I've followed them. People get unfollowed as they bring shitty views to my attention. Hence the conundrum with the undercover terf bc they don't post terf shit, they just like it.
#*but how do you not immediately recognize terf dogwhistles!* you may ask#well. I've found when it comes to any toxic community like terfs or antivaxxers or incels or qanon or antisemitic leftists or WHATEVER#familiarizing myself with the discourse to the point that I'm An Expert In All The Secret Signals is uhhh...#pretty corrosive for my mental health#I'd much rather know Enough to recognize more obvious and popular talking points but otherwise stay a billion feet away#knowing all the Secret Signals involves an engagement with the nuance of their arguments that i am simply not mentally capable of#like it is Too Distressing#and I've found that as long as i can still recognize the more well-known signs of toxicity and steer clear...#i usually successfully avoid coming into contact with the toxicity#and like. I don't think my disabled friend's lives would be better by me becoming an expert in horrific eugenicist arguments and their lingo#nor do I think my trans friends lives would be improved by me becoming an expert on terf language and arguments#total respect for people who do for the purposes of fighting the good fight and warning everyone else#but couldn't be me. I'm sensitive and any amt of cruelty virtriol and toxicity just really Affects me#and my parents are qanon conspiracists so I'm already over the limit from being forced to hear abt whatever new#horrible conspiracy is going thru qanon every week. last week it was that i should Stockpile Food for Sept and Oct bc#Something Might Happen and i should be prepared#and don't i know masks are poisoning the american people? 🙄#anyway props to people who know how to spot a terf from 100 ft based on how they walk#but it doesn't click for me until they open their mouths and start saying gender essentialist shit#(like. when i joined reddit in college I didn't know *gender critical* meant *terf* and was horrified to find out)#so no I don't have every radfem blog memorized so would appreciate warnings abt them#I've mostly been fairly happy in my non-hate-group tumblr bubble#asks
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thought you guys would like to know i got really frisky at our department coffee hour and had TWO cups ON TOP OF the double latte i got before work. lanie squirrel mode incoming 🐿️ also i accidentally scientistbaited this guy and i think he was about 2 seconds from asking what my research interests are before i backtracked and said [incredibly caffeinated] “IMNOTASCIENTISTBTW😅🤪”
#no sign of cute scientist girl but i might go to this cookout thing maybe she’ll be there 😅#that guy i think was chatting me up and im afraid i was simply using him for german practice bc i neverrrrr get to practice#so i probs seemed super enthusiastic to talk to him and he was nice and friendly and all but i was also just like…#omg finally i can put my bachelors degree to good use!#he DID get major points for knowing who martha argerich is tho. ill give him that
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Do people realize this isn't unique to Disney? Cuz this is not unique to Disney. Other corporations are already doing this and this isn't new. Wish there could've been this big of a reaction about it before someone actually died 🙃
#I remember like last year(?) or something McDonald's added the same clause to their app#and i think a bunch of other companies followed - I can't recall if Disney added theirs before or after McD's#i feel like it was after. but anyways. the point is - this isn't unique to Disney.#a bunch of other companies figured out they could do this shit and decided to sneakily add it into their terms and conditions#because “well if you don't agree to it then you can just not use the app :)”#which is bs. Disney makes it so there are shows only available on D+ with actual canonical implications to other media-#and then freak out about any and all pirating. so if you want to indulge in the Content™ you “have to” use the streaming service#and therefore “have to” sign the agreement.#the McDonald's example is especially heinous imho because in some places McD's was and still is the only place-#to be able to buy a meal with enough calories to last you a full day for cheap.#but then they jacked up their prices and made it so the only way you could still get a full day's meal for cheap is to use the app#which means they are specifically targeting the most vulnerable individuals-#by making it so you *cannot* use the app without agreeing to never sue them.#like literally even if you had the app for forever before they changed the terms and conditions#they signed you out forced you to agree to the terms and conditions before you could use the app again.#corporations have been doing this shit. folks tried to warn people about it back then but nobody listened until a woman fucking died#unfortunately as far as i am aware what corporations are doing is completely legal and this cannot be stopped.#you as the consumer are technically required to fully read the terms and conditions (even though no one does)#when you click “i agree” that is - as far as I'm aware - legally binding.#and these apps are technically not necessities so by all means legally the companies can say “well then simply don't use these apps”#so if you decide to use the apps or streaming services or whatever-#then you are also deciding “of your own volition” to agree to an arbitration agreement.#and then you can't get them in trouble for having the arbitration agreement by claiming ignorance-#because technically you said that you knew about it when you clicked “i agree”
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You should know I defended Wei wuxian for his act of Revenge on Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao all the time, and trust me, Sentinel getting ripped in half is a kid show of revenge act. But the difference between Wei Wuxian and D-16/Megatron is that Wei Wuxian knew how to stop (And the only one dared to protect the Renmants from the old regime because they were mainly elders, women and children, when everyone else wanted this group die), while D-16/Megatron though, yeah no sign of this mech would just stop from just mucking Sentinel and his lackies. I mean, this dude values power so that he can overpower others, (Like come on, think about that interesting conversation between D-16 and Starscream, that was a fricking red flag right there).
(People think it's out of character that Megatron would destroy Iacon. Well this mech's whole deal is brutally murdering Sentinel and probably destroying anything associated with Sentinel. D-16/Megatron saw giant ass statues of Sentinels, let fire it down and fuck any bystanders near by. Any buildings and Renmants of Sentinel? Let tear it down.)
(Though Transformers: One is a good movie, but its story just ass and childish compared to Mo Dao Zu Shi. If you want to see a hero committed brutal revenge
#Again may be Transformers franchise is US brand thaat wouldn't ever portray a violent revolution as positive#But at least with Transformers One there's some nuance to the whole “killing the dictator/violent revolution”#If you say Orion Pax showed no sign of punishing Sentinel and his minions#Then I can point out D-16/Megatron showed no sign of leading any revolution#Because all he had is killing Sentinel#And sorry that's not enough for a revolutionary leader#D-16 killing Sentinel felt more like killing my worst enemy than killing an oppressor of the people#Sorry D-16/Megatron but you are not revolutionary#You are a sad and traumatic boi with serious resentment issues that wanted revenge for everything#Wei Wuxian#Have to mention this best boi who got misinterpreted so badly#Simply people think morally grey is better (Bleh)
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i don't know where this idea that the originals would never interact with humans come from do you guys. think they exclusively talk to supernatural creatures? like that's the only thing they'll lie to and date and manipulate and fuck? genuinely i don't understand why . there's a huge ass thing about how "older vampires never date humans!!11!" whyyy the fuck wouldn't they. it would in fact make sense for the very manipulative older vampires to date or even just befriend (loosely) humans and turn or use them even if they didn't love them solely to have allies more than it would for them to NEVER acknowledge humans. they might not date them SERIOUSLY but they don't just write off humans entirely. y'all know that don't you. the originals especially have made a Point of treating the human faction as a serious ally. what is going on.
#it's just . odd LMFAO#like let me know if i missed that episode#i know kol's whole rah rah falling for humans is the first sign of weakness shit but like...#the others never implied they would never sleep with a human or anything like that#“there's no reason for them to have ever spoken to them!!!” i have some terrible news for you#people can in fact just speak to each other without it needing a nefarious plot#klaus? okay yeah most of the people he speaks to always has a reason behind it#but like .... not all vampires simply never interact with humans#matter of fact they sort of make it a point to blend in with humans as much as possible#i don't think they interact with humans EXPECTING a relationship out of it#but. they interact. promise you#y'all act like vampires treat humans like they have infections#it's insane#“why would they ever talk to--” because they're not fucking freaks like you antisocial fucks apparently???#that's where i think. a disconnect for me and other anti kl*roliners are at#y'all think he'd never speak to her if she wasn't from some super secret special bloodline#i think he'd find her annoying and of all the options he wouldn't choose that bitch#we are not the same#klaus#i ain't even tagging his whole name i do not need that#anti klaroline#just because. the tags. you know
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Soresu Negotiations
“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”
Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”
“What?” Palpatine asked.
“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.
Anakin groaned, then sat down.
“Here we go,” he said.
Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.
“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.
“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”
“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”
“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”
“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”
Dooku was silent for a moment.
“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”
“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”
He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”
“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”
Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.
“...no they don’t,” he said.
“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.
“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”
He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”
Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.
“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”
Palpatine blinked.
“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”
“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”
Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.
“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”
“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.
“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”
He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”
“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”
“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”
Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.
“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”
Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.
“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.
“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”
He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”
“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.
“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”
Dooku’s brow furrowed.
“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”
Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.
“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.
“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”
Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.
“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”
He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”
“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”
“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”
“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.
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The one where Toji gets a buzz cut.
Masterlist
-•-
You dropped the grocery bags on the ground when you were greeted by your boyfriend.
But not out of excitement or happiness.
“No! Your glorious hair!” You dramatically walked to him so you could take a closer look at the damage. Toji, being the evil man he was, laughed at your response. “What d’ya think? I hated my hair covering my eyes while I was on missions so I tried something new.”
“Something new? You look like a felon!” You groaned as your hands roamed around his scalp, hoping for a miracle that would grow his hair back.
“Alright, that’s too far. I thought chicks dug this look.”
“Not on you! Maybe some weirdo that doesn’t look like an assassin for hire.”
“But I am one.”
“That’s besides the point, Toji. You’ve hurt me. By cutting off your hair you’ve also cut off any ties you had with me.” You sulk.
Toji was starting to feel self conscious even when he knew the adjustment phase would go away. “Do I really look that bad, doll?”
“No, but-“
“There’s a but? Okay, that’s it, I’m not touching you from now on. Since I look so bad, you can come to me when you find me attractive.” Okay this was turned into a real argument and you started to get agitated too.
“Fine! Let’s see who’ll last longer.”
Toji simply scoffed and walked back into his man cave.
Who knows how long you guys were planning to do this for?
-•-
A long time. You both can go without touching each other for a long time. It had been a week and a half without any physical intimacy but the relationship was normal, you both spoke about anything and everything. Neither of you were showing signs of caving in (or were just that good at hiding it).
It was a quiet afternoon. Toji was out buying some last minute ingredients for dinner and you were starting to miss him. And as much you hated to admit, the buzz cut was growing on you. Just the other day you had to fan yourself when you saw Toji doing pushups where he looked like an underground fighter prepping for his next match.
To distract yourself you decided to spend your time calling your friend instead. You put her on speaker while you organized your closet.
“Girl, what do you mean it’s ugly? It’s all the rage right now.”
“I know. I hated it when he first got it and now all I can think about is pouncing on him. Ugh, I hate myself.”
“You live together. Just go touch him, you fool.”
“No, I’ll lose and I can’t lose to him. He’s always winning bets between the two of us.”
The conversation went on for a few more minutes until your friend had some urgent business to attend to.
You turned around to grab the rest of clothes and shrieked when you saw a tall figure standing in the door way.
It was Toji. “Did you hear everything?”
“I’ve been here since you admitted that my haircut was hot. Do what you will with that info.”
You sighed as you sat down on the bed. “I guess that means you win.” He could tell you were pouting even when you were turned away from him. He smiled at your childishness and gathered you in his arms and made you lay on top of him as he laid down on the bed. “There, you won.”
“No, it doesn’t work like that. I admitted that I wanted you first so you’re still the winner.”
“Then you’ll be happy to know I’ve been thinking about pouncing on you since the day I got my haircut. I wanted to do it out of spite cause I knew you’d cave in but then we made that stupid bet.”
“Ugh, I’m so stupid. You do not look bad at all, Toji. In fact, you look like a hot felon. The type of felon that has a girlfriend who visits him.” You mumbled as you played with the collar of his t-shirt.
“Uhuh, and does she do overnight visits?” He then started attacking your face with kisses as you start giggling.
It was you and your hot felon against the world.
#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji x reader#jujutsu toji#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x y/n#toji fluff#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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Lesson learned
PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.
Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but don’t worry he’s here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy
You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, you’d start to understand the twisted logic of a criminal’s mind. But you don’t. Not really. You’ve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense.
Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. It’s become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.
“I don’t get it,” you say. “The profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesn’t look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.”
Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. “It might not have been an act of violence,” he observes thoughtfully. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”
You furrow your brow. “If it wasn’t violent, then what was it?”
“The bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and there’s no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think there’s a chance the victims might have willingly participated.”
“Willingly?” Your eyes snap at him. “What do you mean, ‘willingly participated’? No one willingly gets strangled.”
He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. “I know it sounds unlikely,” he admits, “but not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.“
“Spencer, that’s exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.”
“Yes, but not immediately. That’s the point.” He turns towards you again. “The intention wasn’t to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.”
You let out a huff. “That’s insane.”
“It might seem that way to you, but it’s not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someone’s airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."
You stare at him like he’s just spoken a different language. “So, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?”
“More like they find excitement in giving up that control."
You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. “How do you even know this?”
The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. “I read,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You have a book on sexual asphyxiation?”
“It’s more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.”
"You’re telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?”
"I think of it as research,” he replies. “It’s part of understanding human behavior. You can’t afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."
"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? That’s not just trust that’s… I don’t know, crazy?”
His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.
“It's not crazy,” he insists carefully. “For people who engage in it, it’s not only about losing control. It’s about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.”
"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds… fun?”
“Well, have you ever tried it?”
“Of course not!” you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. “Why would I?”
“Then you wouldn’t know,” he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like he’s presenting a fact rather than an opinion. “You can’t really understand the mindset until you’ve experienced it. It’s not something you can fully grasp from the outside.”
"I don’t think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to trust.”
You scoff. “What? Are you offering?”
You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick “Of course not”, even some rambling about how he didn’t mean it that way. But when all you’re met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.
Spencer’s not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. He’s studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but there’s a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think he’s considering something else entirely. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s really thinking about the victims or the case at all.
Maybe you shouldn’t joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isn’t exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of you—he’s always been more of a peer than an authority figure—you wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.
Spencer’s eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe he’s not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.
“If I were to offer,” he says quietly, “Would you take it?”
His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You don’t know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?
There’s a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like it’s nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But there’s another part—one you don’t want to acknowledge—that can’t help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.
What if you did? you ponder.
What would it feel like to trust someone like that?
What would it feel like to trust him?
But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.
“Dr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.”
Spencer’s eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.
The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsub’s vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happens—sirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and it’s the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.
But today, you can’t find that peace.
Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. You’re left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. There’s a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.
It’s because Spencer is watching you. You don’t even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.
You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of arm’s length.
“Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”
You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.
“We didn’t discuss anything,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It was just a joke.”
“Was it? You don’t joke about things like that unless you’ve thought about them at least a little.”
You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. “I wasn’t being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.”
Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when he’s analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though he’s cataloging every twitch of your expression.
“Maybe,” he concedes, and takes another step forward. “But the offer wasn’t a joke, and you didn’t say no.”
Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.
“I didn’t say yes either.”
You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.
It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily he’s holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.
“You do realize what you’re offering?” you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. “What this means?”
Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “I do.”
“Do you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."
“I’m not taking it lightly. I’m acknowledging that there’s more to it than what you’re seeing on the surface.”
“And what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?”
He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. “I’m offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesn’t always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.”
You can’t quite decide if his words make sense or if they’re completely absurd. It’s like he’s challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, there’s a strange clarity to what he’s saying.
“Why does it matter so much to you?”
Because he’s your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?
“Because shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in… it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.”
Now that was something you didn’t expect him to say.
“I wasn’t shaming,” you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. “I was just…”
“Curious,” he finishes for you. “And curiosity isn’t a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if you’re willing to explore that curiosity, then I’d rather you experience it in a way that’s safe. That you know is controlled.”
“So what?” you snap back. “You want to prove me wrong? Show me I’ve been looking at this the wrong way?”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not playful. It’s gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he’s carefully weighing each word. “No,” he says softly. “I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.”
You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.
“You… want to teach me?”
“A lesson, if you will,” he explains, and the way he says it—so calm, so certain—makes your heart stutter. “Not to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about… control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.”
You don’t know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.
“A lesson,” you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.
He nods, and there’s no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. “But only if it’s what you want.”
You aren’t sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.
“It’s a lot to consider, and I’m not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands… whenever you’re ready.”
And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.
You’re pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so you’re back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.
You tell yourself it’s just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly what’s got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.
Spencer. And his damn offer.
You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesn’t land when it’s just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, what’s the harm in admitting the truth—to yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesn’t seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe you’ve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.
You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.
God help you, but you’re actually curious.
And that might just be the scariest part of all.
You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motel’s quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The team’s staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you can’t stand one more second of pacing back and forth.
Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencer’s room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didn’t walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.
Spencer doesn’t look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.
“If we’re going to do this, I have some ground rules,” you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. “I don’t know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.”
He closes the door with a soft click. “Of course,” he responds calmly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“First,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I’m in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.”
“Absolutely.”
“Second, I need to know exactly what we’re doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.”
He quickly nods.
“And third… this doesn’t leave this room. We don’t talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”
He takes a step forward towards you. “This stays between us.”
You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. “Okay,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what you’ve just laid out. “Those are my rules.”
Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent that’s distinctly him.
“Then those are the rules we follow,” he reassures you. “Your terms. Your pace.”
“Thank you.”
He nods his head again. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”
There is, actually. There’s a question that’s been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.
“Are we… are we going to have sex?”
He holds your gaze. “Do you want to have sex?”
You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply. “No, I don’t.”
“Then we won’t. There’s more to explore in this than just sex.”
“Right, that’s—good.” You clear your throat. “I have… one more question.”
He gestures for you to continue.
“You’re not going to fire me for this, are you?”
His soft chuckle fills your ear, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile tonight. “No,” he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us won’t affect your work, I promise.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.
“Okay, so… now what?”
“Now,” he says gently, “We take it slow.“
He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.
“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, turning slightly to face you. “I want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what you’re thinking. ”
“That’s… it? We’re just going to talk?”
Spencer’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yes,” he confirms, “If that’s what you want. There’s no pressure to do anything else.”
The idea of just talking feels safe, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity that you can’t quite shake. You shift on the bed.
“What if I want to do something more?”
Spencer’s eyes search yours, and he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. “If you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.”
Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. “Like what?”
“Something small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.”
You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly… reassuring. There’s comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like there’s nothing to fear.
“Okay,” you agree softly. “Let’s try that.”
He moves a little closer to you. “We’ll take it slow,” he promises. “Try to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.”
You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.
“Take a deep breath,” he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.
“Good. Now let it out… slowly.”
You follow his lead, exhaling, and you can’t help but notice he’s mirroring your breathing—his chest rising and falling in time with yours. It’s oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.
“Again,” he guides. “Deep breath in… hold for a count of three… then let it go.”
You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.
“You’re doing really well,” he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “I’m going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
“Can I touch you?” he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. “Just on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.”
Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.
“You’re tense,” he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.
You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. “It’s kind of hard not to be,” you admit. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”
“That’s okay. It’s completely normal to feel nervous.” He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like he’s considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when you’re feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which we’re already doing. But there’s also physical touch."
"Physical touch?”
"Kissing, for example," he explains, “can actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."
Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"
A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but it’s only helpful if it’s something you feel comfortable with.” He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Would you like to try?”
You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Yeah… okay. We can try.”
Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if he’s making sure you’re comfortable. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kisses—gentle, thoughtful, deliberate.
But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heart’s doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mind’s racing to catch up with what your body’s already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because there’s a part of you that’s actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.
Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. “How are you feeling?”
It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. “Uh... yeah, good,” you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than you’d like to admit.
“Do you want to keep going?”
You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.
Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.
Just when you think you’re getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restricting—just enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.
“Are you okay?” His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. “I don’t want to push you, if it’s too much—”
But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. “No, I… trust you.”
His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. “Would it be okay if I touched you more?”
Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm you’re sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. “…yes.”
“Do you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?”
You feel the heat travel along your veins. “I think… that would be good.”
Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesn’t crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.
“Remember, focus on your breathing,” he reminds you. “The way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.”
His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. It’s barely a touch at first, like he’s testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you don’t tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.
“Is this alright?”
“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. It’s more than okay—it’s… unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.
His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.
“How about this?”
You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.
Spencer’s lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.
Oh. Oh.
Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.
“Still with me?”
You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesn’t shock you—you know understand how being touched like this will make you wet—but what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.
Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.
He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. “I want you to feel the difference,” he explains. “The pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”
You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “I’m good.”
His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. “Do you want me to continue?”
“…yeah.”
His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. “Should we get rid of these?”
You don’t have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.
“You can take them off.”
Spencer’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.
“I mean, it’d feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still… you know, fully dressed on top.”
His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, you’re lying naked on your boss’s bed.
Or, technically, the bed he’s been sleeping on these past couple of days.
Spencer’s eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like he’s taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.
“You’re so pretty.”
Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like it’s more than that. Like he’s seeing all of you, the parts you don’t often reveal, and he still thinks you’re beautiful.
And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that you’re lying naked in front of him.
“I can’t believe we're doing this,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
His hand brushes along your arm. “You don’t have to overthink it. You’re in control here. We can stop whenever you want.”
“I know.”
He tilts your head with his hand. “Is this okay so far?”
You offer him a smile. “It’s okay.”
His other hand lands on your knee. “Can you spread your legs for me?”
You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but there’s also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.
His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, there’s no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.
“Does this feel good?”
You nod. It’s more than just good—it’s everything. The way he’s paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.
The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didn’t even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.
He takes your response as a sign to continue.
"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.
"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.”
He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.
“By limiting the blood flow like this,” he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush you’re feeling? It’s your body chasing euphoria."
Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isn’t just pleasure, it’s a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.
He’s unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.
You need more.
“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.
Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. “Too much?”
You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.
“I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.” His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. “The more you control your breathing, the better it’ll feel.”
That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than you’d care to admit.
"That’s it, keep focusing on your breathing."
You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. You’re not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way he’s looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.
Spencer knows you’re close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.
“I know, I know, I've got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever you’re ready."
You can’t decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. There’s a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. It’s as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it would—a surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.
Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and it’s only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.
Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”
When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.
“How are you feeling?”
You don’t know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.
“Like I’m about to pass out.”
“What?” He looks at you in alarm. “You are?”
You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just… it was really intense.” But the worry doesn’t completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. “Good intense. I’m okay, I promise.”
He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I take it you liked it?”
A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you can’t quite meet his eyes as you nod. “Yeah… I did,” you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “Go ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.”
Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. “It was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this… it’s hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.”
“I wasn’t judging,” you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.
“Maybe not intentionally,” he says thoughtfully. “When it comes to BDSM, there’s a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, it’s really more than just control or pain. There’s trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, that’s what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.”
You’re quiet for a moment, processing what he’s saying. “Are you suggesting I could be into all of this?”
“Not necessarily,” he replies carefully. “But I think it’s possible that there’s more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and that’s the most important part. That’s where it all starts.”
You chew on his words for a second. It’s not something you’d ever considered before, but now that he’s brought it up, you can’t deny that the thought has sparked something.
“So you think I might want to explore this further?”
His lips curl into a soft smile. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what you want. If you’re curious, then we can explore it together.” He leans in slightly. “Is that you want?”
The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels… possible. Safe, even.
You feel a tightness in your chest.
“I think… maybe, yeah.”
His smile deepens just a fraction. “We’ll take our time,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. “We can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.”
You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. “Can I stay here tonight?”
His chin lands on top of your head. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”
What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.
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