#i would be more than happy to answer any and all questions!!!

[poisonf0rest]

I saw the prof raf brainrot and now I have Thoughts about the others also being professors so uh I hope the shitty hc dump is ok

zayne is ostensibly a bio professor but I imagine he’d also be a good chem professor. like objectively the best one, takes everything seriously and pushes his students but doesn’t drop piles of work on them when midterm week rolls around, makes interesting labs, etc. everybody wants to work in his lab but like 4 people a term actually make it in

xavier is hard to think of but I feel like either astronomy (we all know why) or quantum physics (he can teleport) is his field. I hate to say he’s the worst prof but I just feel like he’s so much more into his research than teaching. notoriously hard courses but also very veeery interesting ones. I mean why pay tuition if you can’t get your brain melted by your phys prof

caleb is a mech eng prof, easy. curves grades and is very smiley, but leaves slightly sarcastic comments when grading your tests. and the tests themselves are probably pretty rigorous: not so difficult that everyone starts crying, but def very thorough. it’s fine tho cause you walk out of it with like a 94, a very very strong appreciation for the wonderful world of physics, and probably a godawful crush for the rest of the year

sylus is hard for me. I want to say literature. like his courses would hyperfixate on, idk, 18th century gothic lit. you’d go in with three pages worth of analysis on some obscure poem and then he’d systematically rip everybody apart, then you’d walk out a fundamentally changed person. But! For the purposes of humour, sylus is a CS prof (canonical programmer), which instantly drops any hotness factor he had by like 234322.

sorry sylus rip. sadly programming is the act of swearing at your screen at 2am while scouring the same 12 lines of code over and over for any kind of bug (you will find the actual source of the bug 100 lines down). not even he can make that cool

MHMMM ANON YOU'RE COOKING!!

Zayne is definitely an orgo professor-- everyone wants to hate him since they're failing his class and lab, but honestly he's just strict with the material and has little tolerance for error because error in the real world costs human lives. But should you come to his office hours with the intention to learn then you'll find he's actually a very patient, receptive, and likeable professor with an amusingly dry humor. Everybody definitely wants to work in his lab.

Absolutely agree with Xavier lol, his students hate him since he does NOT want to be there.

Caleb would be the type to answer stupid questions with a little more bite and subtle snark that makes any students who are actually paying attention snicker and hope not to get on his bad side. Would be the campus professor crush, no doubt.

HOW DARE YOU TALK DOWN ON CS PROFESSOR SYLUS- HEY, CS PEOPLE CAN BE HOT :( He absolutely would teach either machine learning or maybe game theory if not then a high level C++ class be so fr. He absolutely can make coding cool, if anything than for the fact that he has a stacked resume and single-handedly proving that you CAN be a CS major and still end up running your own company, marrying the love of your life right after college, and raising a happy family while still being a nerd. and taking more than regular showers

[slaymitchabernathy]

Doctor’s Orders

| this drabble contains sexual content ;) |

Some things are just unavoidable in life.

A breakup, a spilt coffee on a brand new shirt, or in Soarynn’s case, a visit to the doctor.

She has nothing against the medical world, nor the professionals who work in it. On the contrary, she’s glad for the Capitol’s doctors who keep her happy and healthy. It’s their big, pointy needles that she hates.

But one cannot exist without the other it seems.

This visit, however, will not require any poking or prodding, she was assured by the receptionist that it was strictly a routine checkup. And besides, Dr. Kyte is a phenomenal doctor, always making Soarynn feel more than comfortable while taking a glance at her most intimate places.

She bounces her knee up and down while sitting on the counter with a small cushion and paper that crinkles every time she moves. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, not that she has anywhere important to be but once again, she’s not the biggest fan of the doctor’s office.

She’s been having some nausea, back pain, and tender breasts. But she hasn’t gotten to that time of the month yet which worries her. She’s two weeks late.

Still a virgin but it doesn’t hurt to check!

There’s a knock at the door and she straightens up, “Come in.”

Soarynn is fully expecting Dr. Kyte to walk in with her light brown hair pulled back into a bun and glasses to be on the bridge of her nose. So when a man, a very handsome man walks in, she’s surprised, to say the least.

He’s got a clipboard in one hand and is wearing the standard white coat so he must be a doctor. Perhaps he’s in the wrong room. He looks at her with a polite smile, “Hello, I’m Dr. Snow.”

When he extends his hand, Soarynn does not take it. “Oh, um, I think you might have the wrong room,” she tells him with a hushed voice, “I’m here to see Dr. Kyte.”

Dr. Snow nods, shutting the door behind her, “Yes, well Dr. Kyte left about an hour ago unfortunately, there was a small family emergency so I’m filling in for her.”

Oh.

Soarynn is still like a statue while he scans over her file that’s on the clipboard, if she knew she’d be seeing a male doctor, she would have rescheduled. While he’s scanning her file, she does some scanning of her own.

Dr. Snow is very handsome. He has blonde hair, curls from the looks of it but they’re slicked back with gel. He had a sharp jawline and a prominent nose, with full lips. He’s very tall, even perched on the counter she’s shorter than him.

His blue eyes meet hers and she’s suddenly so embarrassed. He caught her staring.

“It says here that you’ve been experiencing a number of symptoms over the past few weeks.”

Soarynn manages to squeak out a response, “Mhm.”

Dr. Snow frowns, making his way over to her right where he pulls open a drawer, grabbing a pair of latex gloves to snap on. “These symptoms seem very common for women experiencing early stages of pregnancy. Are you sexually active?”

Soarynn blushes, dropping her gaze. With Dr. Kyte, she’s so honest and open. With Dr. Snow, she feels…nervous.

“No,” she says, barely a whisper.

He takes a step closer to her and she can smell the distinct scent of roses which is odd coming from a man but not unpleasant. “Ms. Nightingale, if you were the victim of sexual assault, I can assure you that this is a safe space to talk about it.”

OH!

Soarynn is more than quick to shut down any idea of being assaulted, "Oh goodness no! I swear nothing has happened to me. I simply wanted to see what the issue was, I assure you, I am not pregnant." That seems to make him feel a little bit better as he visibly relaxes, "Ah, good. When was your last cycle?"

Soarynn really doesn't remember Dr. Kyte asking all of these questions, even though they seem to be the standard procedure. It's not standard for a man who looks like a model to be asking them though. "About a month and a half ago," she answers, "that's why I'm a bit confused. I'm never late."

He eyes her curiously, she wonders how old he is. Is he married? Does he have a beautiful wife and children at home? She ever so casually glances down at his left hand, more specifically, his ring finger, and almost cheers when she sees that it's empty.

"I see, it could be a number of things, stress, diet, lack of sleep. I suggest we do the full routine checkup to ensure that nothing is amiss." Soarynn finds herself mindlessly nodding to his words, he could say anything and she'd go along with it, "Of course, I think that's more than reasonable."

Dr. Snow gives her a small smile, "Perfect, I'll have you get undressed then.”

What?

Soarynn blinks once, twice, three times before opening her mouth, “Pardon me?”

“I’d like to do a full body checkup,” he explains, “the nurse has provided you with a gown I see.” Soarynn had barely glanced at the pink gown the nurse left for her to change in. And it’s not like what she’s wearing is very practical for a checkup right now.

With her heels and tights, her skirt and blouse. No, this won’t do, changing is the best option but also the most nerve-wracking.

Dr. Snow must notice how nervous she is, “Why don’t I step out for a moment?”

She nods eagerly, grateful for the privacy, “That would be wonderful, thank you, doctor.” After offering her a polite smile, Dr. Snow steps out momentarily so that Soarynn can change and gather her thoughts at the same time.

Soarynn undresses in a methodical fashion, first her blouse, then her skirt, then her tights. Her hands slightly shake as she neatly folds them and places them on the end of the counter.

She's so nervous, why is she nervous?

Soarynn has never felt at home when visiting the doctor's office, it's so sterile, so strict. And now, so sexy.

There's a knock at the door and she almost jumps out of her skin, "Just one minute," she calls, fumbling to slip on the paper dress. Considering how much she pays for healthcare, you'd think they'd come up with some cuter clothes.

With the dress on, she feels better, safer, calmer.

"Ms. Nightingale?"

"I'm ready."

He walks back in, looking more handsome if that's even possible, "Have a seat on the counter and we'll do the full body examination." Soarynn does as she's told, careful not to tear her dress, at least she kept her bralette and panties on, wouldn't want to flash the man.

"We'll start with the eyes, nose, and throat."

Soarynn holds perfectly still while he checks her ears with one of the many instruments she knows nothing about. Soarynn tries to ignore how close he is, how if she turned her head, they'd be face-to-face, almost nose-to-nose.

Then he checks her nose, hopefully no bats are in the cave.

"I'm going to turn off the lights so I can check your eyes," he explains, going to turn off the overhead lights. Soarynn stares up at him while he shines a light into her eyes, trying not to blink. "Your eyes are a fascinating color," he tells her, going to turn the lights back on, "normally I just see blue, but you have quite a bit of gray as well."

Soarynn blushes at his words, "Thank you, my mother had the same color."

"She's no longer with you?"

"No," she says quietly, Soarynn never got to meet her mother, she died giving birth to her. Dr. Snow clears his throat, "Neither is mine, makes you want to do right by them, doesn't it?"

She nods, although she never met her mother, she still feels as if she met her in another life. According to many people who knew her mother, she could be her twin.

"Alright, now I'm going to listen to your lungs," he says, grabbing at the end of his stethoscope, "this might be a little cold" he warns. Soarynn braces herself for the cold but still jumps when the cold metal touches her skin, "Sorry," he mumbles, pulling it away, "let me try to warm it up for you."

Soarynn watches Dr. Snow rub the stethoscope between his hands in an attempt to warm it up for her. Is this what good healthcare looks like? "Here, this should be much better," he tells her, pressing it to her skin again. And it is much better.

"Thank you," she says. He simply nods, "Now take a deep breath for me." Soarynn does as she's told, taking in several deep breaths while he moves the instrument around her chest, pressing it onto the paper dress.

"I'm going to have you turn around so I can listen from the back." Soarynn awkwardly turns on the counter so he can listen to her lungs more, "Good," he says quietly, "just breathe in and out, you're doing great."

Soarynn didn't think she had a praise kink, but she might have just formed one. With this man exclusively.

"Well, your lungs are in perfect condition," he announces, making Soarynn sigh in relief, "now I'm going to have you lie on your back so I can complete the exam."

Soarynn knows about this part of the exam, where she gets undressed and Dr. Kyte momentarily pulls her panties to the side just to make sure nothing is amiss.

The hesitance in her eyes tells him about her apprehension, "If you'd like I could have one of the nurses conduct this part of the exam." Soarynn thinks about the cute lace panties she chose to wear this morning, completely oblivious to who would be seeing them right now.

"There's no need," she decides, going to lie down on her back.

He looks surprised by her boldness but it's about time she started acting more confident. "I'm going to untie your dress," he tells her, fingers methodically undoing the three ties in the front of her dress.

It only takes a moment for the cold air to fully hit her almost naked body. Soarynn stares up at the ceiling while his fingers ghost over the soft skin of her stomach, "I'm just going to press down on your stomach," he explains, pressing his fingers into her soft skin. Soarynn squirms a the touch, a giggle escapes her lips and she clamps her mouth shut.

"Sorry, I'm a bit ticklish."

He smiles down at her, "Me too."

Oh, well, in that case, they should just get married.

"I'm going to have you unbutton your brassier for just a moment so I can examine you for any foreign bumps that might be harmful to your health." Soarynn's hands slip under her back, skillfully undoing her clasp.

His fingers are cold as they gently slide her bralette down, baring her breasts to him. And it's cold, which means...they're cold. Standing at high alert in fact. Her nipples might be the death of her.

His hands are large and he gently grabs her right breast, dutifully feeling for lumps before he moves to the left one, "Everything feels good," he informs her, "we can go ahead and put this back on."

A wave of confidence washes over her and she's speaking before she can even process it, "Or we could leave it off."

He looks down at her, blinking once, twice.

"Okay."

Soarynn's hands tremble when he moves down her body, stopping right next to her hipbone, "The last part of this exam might feel a bit intrusive, but it's only for a minute," he assures her, "I'll simply have you pull down your underwear, I'll do a quick inspection and you'll be able to get dressed again."

"Okay, Dr. Snow." Soaryn doesn't miss the way his throat bobs when she calls him that. "You needn't pull them down too far, I just need a quick look." Soarynn peels her lace panties down to about mid-thigh, farther than necessary but that's okay with her.

She doesn't mind.

His fingers brush against her folds and an involuntary moan comes out of her mouth. Fuck. Soarynn bites her lip to prevent any further noises from leaving her mouth, praying that she can get through the rest of this. His long fingers drag along her soft skin, not even touching her folds anymore but she's still so sensitive down there.

He presses against a pulse point, causing goosebumps to form all over her skin.

His hands are so cold.

"Alright, we're all done with the checkup."

Soarynn let out a sigh of relief, she didn't even know she was holding it in. "I'll step out again so you can get dressed, leave the gown on though," he says, already opening the door.

Soarynn nods and watches from her position on the cushion, waiting for the door to shut before she sits up. First, she pulls her panties back on, ignoring how there is now a wet spot forming between her thighs. Next, she puts her bralette back on, clipping it back into place before she begins tying the dress once more.

Another knock comes, but this time, she's ready.

"Come in."

Dr. Snow steps into the room with a smile on his face, polite and easygoing, calming her nerves instantly even though he's part of the reason she has any, to begin with.

"I reviewed your file mixed with the results from the full body checkup and everything seems to be in order. What I would like to recommend is a shot to help boost your hormones, it's possible that your levels have dropped."

Soarynn visibly pales at the thought of getting a shot, getting poked, a needle piercing her skin. And he seems to pick up on that rather quickly, "If you're not sure if the shot is necessary, we can always take a blood sample to see further into the issue."

Even worse!

"No," she shakes her head, quickly putting an end to getting her blood drawn, "that um, that won't be necessary. I trust you." Perhaps those aren't the most professional words to use with this man, but he does seem trustworthy, and if he just saw her hard nipples, there's not much else to hide.

"I'm just scared of needles," she explains, resting her hands on her thighs, "I usually need someone to hold my hand." Dr. Kyte always has a nurse come in to hold Soarynn's hand while she administers the shot, but she's not here.

He nods, looking down at the floor, he's wearing shiny black shoes. He looks very important right now.

"I see. Well, I don't think we have any available nurses at the moment, unless you'd like to wait for one."

Soarynn worries her bottom lip between her teeth, she doesn't want to seem like a baby, even though she definitely is one when it comes to shots. But maybe this can be a learning experience for her.

"It's fine," she decides, "I can handle it."

Dr. Snow grins, "Atta girl, it'll be quick, I'll have to inject the vaccine into your neck though."

Oh.

He needs to work on mentioning everything before she agrees to it.

Her voice cracks, "Okay."

Soarynn watches Dr. Snow pull open several drawers, pulling out a syringe, a vial, a wipe to clean her skin, and a bandaid.

At least the bandaid is pink.

"Which side of the neck?" He asks, looking left to right. Soarynn shrugs, it's going to hurt either way, "Right."

He nods, stepping forward but then he pauses, it's a bit of an awkward position that they're in. "Maybe I could just spread my legs," she suggests, batting her lashes up at him, "so you can get closer." Dr. Snow bites the inside of his cheek, gripping the syringe tighter, "Sure."

Soarynn does exactly that, spreading her legs so he can stand between them. The paper dress rides up on her thighs, baring her lace panties to him. His breath trembles for a moment, "Alright, is it okay if I rest my hand on your thigh?"

It's suddenly very hot in here.

"Of course, Dr. Snow."

He places his right hand on her left thigh, his fingers are still cold but she welcomes the sensation. They're also very close to her cunt. She chooses to ignore that part.

Soarynn watches from the corner of her eye as he brings the syringe up, their faces are inches apart now. She tilts her head to the side, baring her neck, "Is it alright if I push your dress down off your shoulders?"

"Mhm."

He gently tugs her paper dress down, exposing her chest once again and Soarynn closes her eyes, tensing and preparing for the piercing needle to penetrate her skin.

Instead, it's his fingers penetrating her cunt.

Soarynn moans, throwing her head back and arching her back at two of his long digits plunging deep into her cunt, pressing right against her sweet spot. "Oh," she gasps, her chest pressing against his, "oh please."

His breaths are on her neck instead of the needle, then his lips, sucking hard on her tender skin. His fingers thrust into her at a rapid pace, making it known how wet she was for Dr. Snow. It almost feels like a dream, a terrible, nasty, forbidden dream she should not be having.

"You like that?"

Soarynn whimpers, her eyes rolling back, "Yes," she whines, latching a hand onto his forearm, "yes Dr. Snow, I like it."

"I knew you needed something to distract you, to take your little mind off of the bigger things in life." Soarynn is at a loss for words, his fingers feel so fucking good. Her toes are curling and she can barely hold herself up so he removes his hand from her thigh to wrap his arm around her waist.

His lips travel from her neck to her jawline, then, to her lips.

It's a lustful, passionate kiss shared between them, a forbidden desire.

"So wet," he says against her lips, "so needy, so willing to take it, aren't you? Bet you'd spread your legs for anyone huh? A doctor, a lawyer, a President, anything and anyone to fill your greedy little cunt."

Soarynn tries to shake her head but it's pointless. He's right.

His fingers slam into her so fast, hitting that sweet spot every single time without fail. Soarynn shrieks when his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles to bring her to a delicious orgasm.

"That's right," he says, panting, "gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl huh? Can't take a shot but you can take other things right?"

Soarynn moans, her walls flutter around his fingers, and his words cause that wire inside of her to snap.

Dr. Snow doesn't let up one bit though, in fact, he starts going harder. "I can't," she whines, trying to push away from him but he's so much stronger than she is, bigger, taller, larger. His cock is probably huge.

"You can," he tells her, his voice laced with authority, "and you will. Be my good little slut and cum for me again Soarynn, I want this entire building to know what a slut you are for me."

His saying that reminds her of what a shameful, scandalous position she's currently in right now. Getting finger-fucked by her doctor at the doctor's office.

People are in the next room getting a prescription, she's in this room getting fucking pounded.

"Please," she mumbles, "please, please, please."

Her brain has been turned into mush, she can't think straight, talk straight, even look straight.

All she wants is another orgasm.

"Already dumbed down huh? Can't think about anything else but my fingers huh? That's all you want, all you need, isn't it baby? Just need to be filled all the time, keep your pretty little mind filled with pleasure and sex."

His lips are on hers again, this time more aggressively as he bites at her bottom lip. Soarynn gives him full control, letting him lead so she can mindlessly follow.

Her next orgasm is riding up on her and his fingers are going faster than before, her cunt is slick, making the most obscene noises right now in front of her doctor, a man who went to school for years. All for her to fall apart on his fingers.

"Cum for me Soarynn," he orders, his voice harsh, "cum all over my fingers like the little fuckdoll you are."

That's all it takes.

Soarynn sees white when her second orgasm hits her, her body goes limp in his arms, hoping he'll keep her upright while she moans loudly.

Soarynn's eyes begin to drift shut, growing heavier and heavier before they close and all she can think about is how he never gave her that shot.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn's eyes open, she's in her bedroom.

She looks to her right and finds a glass of water on her nightstand, along with a bowl of fruits. When she looks to her left, her boyfriend is staring down at her, a proud smirk on his lips.

"You really got into it this time," she mumbles, snuggling up to his side. Coriolanus has since removed his white doctor's coat, and the rest of his clothes for that matter from what she can feel, most likely just in his boxers.

Coriolanus chuckles, smoothing down her blonde hair, "You were much more confident this time," he replies, "telling me to leave your breasts exposed really threw me for a loop." Soarynn grins up at him, usually when they do these roleplay things, she's a shaking, timid, shy little thing. She's been a client for a lawyer, a secretary for the President, and now a virgin patient for a doctor.

It's a rush.

The first time he ever mentioned it, she hadn't been so sure about it. Pretending to be someone else? It was strange.

But then she learned to love it, getting to play around like she was someone else. And it was just extremely hot, the whole "forbidden romance" genre has always been a favorite in her books. Soarynn has read countless books about these types of relationships and now, she gets to live out her fantasy.

And Coriolanus gets to pretend to be powerful in every situation, holding power over those below him and thriving in his new role while fucking her senseless.

It's a win-win situation.

"I had to catch you off guard," she says nonchalantly, "and I thought you were going to fuck me, not finger me." He laughs, "Is there a difference?"

"There's a very big difference."

Coriolanus yawns, they always do these things late at night, and this time, they were in one of their spare closets, using spare counter space and floor space to create a believable doctor's office.

"Well that's because I plan on fucking you all night long darling, I'm still not done with you so I hope you're ready for an all-night affair."

Soarynn's eyes light up at the prospect of sex all night long, a weary concept to some people, but not to her. Sex with Coriolanus is amazing, whether they're playing pretend or being themselves.

It's always good.

"Is that so?" She murmurs, slowly pushing herself to sit up next to him, "I have to stay in bed with you all night?"

Even though they aren't pretending anymore, his throat still bobs. It's rare that she catches him off guard so she cherishes every moment she has of it.

But he recovers smoothly, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.

"Mhm," he responds, slipping a hand between her thighs. Soarynn sighs at the touch, always welcomed, always wanted.

"Is that an order?"

Perhaps next time he could be a Peacekeeper who arrests her.

The next words he whispers send a shiver down her spine.

"Doctor's orders."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[consume-cs]

valentina (02) ◯○ more than a midnight snack

deep down, when i face it all i want is you | japanese | 🌒 enhypen content | materialist

english isn't my first language. nishimura riki. non idol — both craving for a sweet treat at midnight ﷼

"𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙴? Can we do it?" You take a seat in bed while your boyfriend cross his arms behind his head, staring at you with a subtle smile as you look adorable to him.

“I don’t see any problem with it if we are quiet” He tells and you think about it until you say yes.

Once you’re out of his room, he holds your hand guiding you through his old house. Last night, you landed in Japan by yourself to visit his parents and you haven’t been there that often but the visits are getting more frequent, however, you still not used to exploring the house where he grew up.

It’s late at night and you couldn’t sleep because you’re craving something sweet to eat, and your boyfriend noticed you weren’t sleeping and that’s how you two ended up in the kitchen.

He turned on the lights and you cover your face due to clarity, following your boyfriend from behind as you still hold his hand. Niki opens the refrigerator and he takes out a small container with chocolate chips cookies.

“I knew this would happen so I bought it for you” He says casually with his deep voice, making you melt because you didn’t realize how much he knows you.

His cold hands find your waist and he pulls you up onto the kitchen counter. He makes sure to open the container with cookies for you and give you one as he takes one for him as well.

The silence is dancing around each other and you’re too concentrated looking around that you don’t notice him looking at you until you feel his hand in your hair, placing a piece of it behind your ear.

“Don’t you feel tired?” He asks quietly. He can see your tiredness in your face due to the jet lag but he wants to hear you.

“A little, but I’m happy to be here” You respond with a cute smile.

He’s still touching your hair, looking at you with his lovely eyes and you do it as well, feeling overwhelmed by all the love he’s expressing through a simple glance. This is when his playful side is hidden and this side of him comes out, which you don’t see often.

You continue to stare at each other for what seems like hours, but the time with him seems to be eternal and unforgettable. And suddenly, you feel his lips on yours, kissing you so gentle and warm.

Your cheeks turn red and you look away, being all shy by his deep look.

“Did you like traveling by yourself? I guess not because you can’t live without me” He asks with a smile, teasing you a little bit as he looks for your attention, wanting you to look at him again.

You take a bite of the cookie, without answering his question on purpose.

“I guess I’m right” And he’s right because you felt so lonely and lost without him by your side.

He kiss your forehead and pulls you closer to him, hugging your waist and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“We must go back to my room, it’s getting colder here” He says and he puts his hands on your thighs, carrying you in his arms about to leave the kitchen.

“Wait, let me grab another one” Niki goes back to the kitchen counter and let you take another cookie.

You two go back to his room and finally catch sleep until the next morning.

xoxo girl💋…

© consume_cs

[milkweedman]

Given your url, I've gotta ask-- have you ever tried to spin milkweed fiber?

Of course ! The type of milkweed native to my area, asclepias speciosa (showy milkweed) has two potential kinds of fibers--the bast fiber from the stem and the fluffy seed pod fiber. The bast fiber is typically used for cordage making rather than being spun, but the seed pod fiber can be spun, if you are very careful and patient. It's incredibly warm and soft and shiny. From what I read the seed pod fiber from most, if not all, other milkweed species is not spinnable as it's shorter and has more lignin, which makes it less fluffy and more stiff, although I would say it's worth a shot and would try other species if I found them. I did find that younger milkweed fluff spun up much easier, and I hypothesize that it may be possible to spin the bast fiber of milkweed if it were young enough as well, or perhaps just extremely well processed.

So, I've spun some of the fluffy fiber and have twisted some of the bast fiber into cordage. Unfortunately processing milkweed is very physically intensive and not something that my progressive disability is allowing me to do anymore. But I'm looking forward to spinning some more fluff if I ever end up getting cotton hand cards, as I think that would make it much easier to spin the fluff.

I'm by no means an expert on milkweed, but I'm happy to answer any other questions if I can :)

[spillthepuckingtea]

Hi sorry if this is a tad bit long, but

Toxic relationship anon here, so this is how I see this relationship with Sammy and Jack: in the beginning it most definitely was good, and you could tell at family skate he was happy and he genuinely looked happy, but after he got his shoulder surgery he was in a very vulnerable place and his mental and emotional health wasn’t the best, and Sammy knew that and took advantage of it, and in a way he feels like he owed it to her to at least try a relationship. Being in a toxic relationship with a manipulative narcissist is not easy, they gas light you so much and you don’t even realize it because it’s normal behavior. They blame you for fights and anything they can to not take blame theirselves. You’re friends and family can tell you they don’t like the person and they aren’t good for you because you see someone different than they do, you don’t see the toxic manipulative things they are doing to keep you around , because around you they are a totally different person. A person you think you’re happy with and a person you love . When reality they are the complete opposite.. they make you feel insecure no matter what it is but you don’t see it as that. They will make your confidence shit. But once again you don’t see it as that because you have rose colored glasses on and a part of you chooses to believe they aren’t a bad person but they belittle you like no other and you just go through a toxic cycle. Until you for yourself see someone for their true colors and intentions no one can convince you to leave the relationship.. your friends and family are going to be civil for your sake but they don’t like your relationship and how you’re treated . I finally for myself saw after 2 years, he wasn’t good enough for me and I was worth so much more.. with that being said Jack most definitely had rose colored glasses on , but I believe he’s slowly but surely figuring out the relationship isn’t what he thought it would be. He felt like he owed it to her, but to him it was never going to be anything long lasting.. I think he’s finally seeing her toxic behavior and her intentions. And maybe he’s a routine guy and doesn’t want cause more problems before playoffs so he’s waiting the relationship out… but him not getting her a wag jacket and not publicly claiming her is one thing I most definitely took notice of, because I was a wag in that relationship and he always made sure I had a jacket or whatever was made for said games.. so for him not to do that really speaks volumes… and just his playing lately has not been the potential of him as a player; people don’t realize when you’re in a toxic relationship it does affect your everyday life even if you try and not let it; and I think he’s going to notice that eventually.. I know everyone wants this relationship to end, but believe me he will get tired of the toxic behavior eventually… if you have any questions I’ll be happy to answer them ❤️

first off I’m sorry you even know any of this. It’s something that nobody should go through. What causes me the slightest bit of hope is that he did not get her a jacket which like you said speaks volumes it shows that slowly he’s starting to realize that she is not in this relationship for the right reasons and I don’t like to call people, toxic, or manipulative when I don’t know them, but all the signs are pointing to that because what kind of dies a human being goes for the brother of the guy that rejected you to spite him. I just hope he starts playing like he used to because I know when he’s back on his grind it’s gonna help so much with his internal turmoil and his confidence that he might actually have the confidence to realize what’s going on.

[vidavalor]

hi! had a question about book vs. show opening and i think i need a more experienced word nerd than i to handle this.

in the book, specifically on the copyright page, there's a line that says: "Caveat: Bringing about Armageddon can be dangerous. Do not attempt it in your own home."

however, the television at the beginning of the show (as said in the script book, i'm not sure if this is the exact wording) says: "Warning: Causing Armageddon can be dangerous. Do not attempt it in your own home."

I was wondering what your thoughts on why "caveat" was changed to "warning" were, or if there was any reason why it was changed at all?

Well, hi there, @the-ineffable-parker! 💕 This question is everything. I don't know if I'd call myself a more experienced word nerd but I'm happy to share some thoughts and, of course, your virtual snacks of choice. 🤗

On the caveat and what I think it has to do with the nightingales and the neato fan under the cut.

To see what the reasons might be for these particular word changes between the novel and the tv series, I think that we have to first talk about why both the Caveat on the copyright page in the novel and the War-into-Warning that opens 1.01 exist in the first place.

Why does the story-- in both book and tv series form-- open like this?

I think that the short answer to your question is that it's related to wordplay in different mediums.

What I mean by this is that when you write a very wordplay-happy novel like Good Omens, you can do some wordplay in the book that you cannot do as easily in the same way with a more audio/visual medium, like television. On the other hand, though? There are visual puns that you can do on television that you would not be able to pull off in the exact same way in a book.

Both the novel and the tv series are using the same core language but they're just presenting some of it differently in the tv show because there is a lot of fun to be had with having audio/visual possibilities to use to tell the story, too.

To give you an example, let's look at what the book did vs. what the show did with the errors pun.

One of the jokes in the book is that there is a passage in which the word errors is spelled as error's. Obviously, the humor here comes from the fact that there is an error in the spelling of the word error. This pun works great in the novel because it's designed to be one that can be read but what if you wanted to include something like this in the tv series, where the majority of the words that are heard are spoken aloud?

The answer is what they did in the 1793 scene, which is have Aziraphale say this to Jean-Claude:

"C'est une grande mistake... erreur."

The humor here is that Aziraphale blanks on the word for error in French and winds up saying the English "mistake" instead. He's made an error on the word error-- a very similar pun to the one in the novel-- but there's also the extra layer here too of the fact that the word he remembers a second later as being the French word for error is correct-- it's erreur. It's almost exactly the same word. It's basically the English word error spoken with a French accent. 😂 He's got the entire, more complicated, rest of the sentence correct but for the word for error, which is easily the easiest word of them all. It's both humorous and also highlighting that Aziraphale's just in his head with French sometimes and that's what causes the occasional stumble.

This erreur pun would work in written form in a book but it plays even better on screen and Good Omens is taking advantage of the visual component of the television series to do all sorts of fun visual puns and otherwise utilize the visual medium to help with understanding of all different sorts of levels of language use in the story.

Think about visual puns like Aziraphale telling Mrs. Sandwich she's a figurative "pillar of the community" while the two of them are standing beside the bookshop's literal structural pillars... or the kids! visual pun from The Flood, when Crowley says "you can't kill kids!" and we see that the group of living beings that he's looking at when he says this contains both tiny humans and baby goats-- both of which are called kids.

I think that there is a visual reason why the word warning was used in the opening of the series and not caveat-- even though a caveat is a warning. It's related to what the caveat in the novel actually is and how they can best convey that exact same thing to a television audience.

So, the real question is: what is the caveat, exactly?

Why does it exist? What's this thing on the copyright page of the novel, which is virtually unheard of? Why do we need this note at the start of the book and what is it saying?

To look at this, we're actually going to do it in true Good Omens style-- out of chronological order 😂-- and actually begin with the warning that opens the tv series because, while it's the same thing as the caveat in the novel, I actually kind of like the war-into-warning even better.

The very first thing we ever see in all of the Good Omens television series is a word.

Specifically, it's the word war-- and it is very large and very red and very capital letters shouted in our face.

This is so the very first thing that we see that, as you can see from the screenshot below, I don't even have time to exit to full screen once hitting play before this is what I'm looking at-- and it doesn't even stay like this long enough for me to be able to take a clean screenshot of it before it begins to move and give me more to work with when it comes to understanding it.

At the same time as the word war is shown visually to us and we're reading this word, the word is chanted once by an unseen chorus of people. This is very important and you'll see why in a moment.

From just this alone, we can learn a couple of things.

One is that the word war might as well essentially also be the title of this show, which will make sense to us when we learn that the show is about different kinds of Armageddon. The plot is about the threat of Biblical and global kinds of Armageddon but it's really about a person's own Armageddon-- their own mental health struggles.

But, before we even get into analyzing the word war, there's first the even more important matters of the way that word was delivered to us-- and why a word was delivered to us at all.

Almost immediately, the screen begins to move and we see that we weren't actually looking at just the word war... we were really looking at the word warning... and then, very quickly, we are shown two things rapidly at once...

The first is that that more words start to scroll beneath the warning and the second is that what we're looking at-- the source of all of these words-- is a television that is revealed to be floating in outer space.

So... we're watching a streaming television show that begins with a message delivered to us on a visual metaphor for streaming television-- a tv floating in space. This is pretty meta stuff, right?

This is showing that the warning on the television screen-- the words we are shown there-- are all a message that is related to our ability to understand the show we've selected to watch. Good Omens is opening with a warning to its own audience about the very wordy content within the program and the coded nature of it.

This is also really funny when you consider that tv content ratings-- which are consider warnings-- also appear at the very beginning of hours of tv. You can see Amazon giving me content warnings over the War/Warning in the screenshots above, as we've all gotten when streaming the show. I found this quite funny considering that this show would be TV-MA on Amazon without the cant and the novel would never have been published by a traditional publisher in the late '80s without it.

So, the network is warning for content but the show itself is giving content warnings of a different kind-- ones related to letting the audience know that they have decided to stream a show in which a word game is afoot... but what kind of word game?

The war-into-warning is a visual metaphor for that thing around which Terry Pratchett's Discworld was formed: etymology. It's about the history of words and their meanings-- or, why it is we say what it is we say and how we came to say it.

It begins with showing a core word-- war-- and then expands to show word evolution through its related word of warning. This is the reason why it's war/warning and not caveat, even though a caveat is a kind of warning, as we'll look at below.

It's because the word war living inside the word warning allows them to create a visual to show us word history right off the bat at the start of the series to convey that to an audience who isn't reading the story so much as hearing and seeing the story unfold before them.

Immediately, we are shown that this is a show that is obsessed with words because big, red, capital letter words are the very first things that they showed us. We know that looking at the connections between words and their histories and earlier meanings is something worth considering when we are listening to these characters speak.

But, maybe most importantly?

With war/warning, we are also given the very first Clue as to how to speak Crowley and Aziraphale's cant-- hidden there before, if the show is our first encounter with this story, we've even met them or heard them interact.

It also happens to be the biggest and most important Clue. It's basically the Clue that, if you do nothing else but this, you're going to be able to figure out a fairly decent amount of what it is that they're saying. That Clue?

Is simply to look at the words within words-- which is also, subtly, a backdoor entrance into etymology as a whole because it's encouraging you to take apart the words.

I know that must be shocking since you messaged me with this request and my every other post is literally doing exactly this 😂 but, for the record! as I've said before, I didn't just make that up out of nowhere. I'm following the directions of the cant that I've found keys throughout the story and one of the biggest ones is this opening of the tv show where they're like...

So, you're about to watch a very wordy something in which it becomes pretty obvious pretty quickly that the main characters are speaking a hidden language and, if you want to understand that language, the biggest tip that we can give you to get started is to pay attention to the words that are hidden inside the words they are choosing to speak.

Remember when I said the fact that the word war was chanted was important? This is connected to that.

War is chanted... but warning is not. Why?

Because this is an example of one of the main ways that the cant works. Warning is the word that's really there on the surface level. It represents the word we'd hear them speak if only listening on the surface level. The cant, though, is hidden in the origins of the words they're speaking and in the words buried within those words.

Part of the game of this for Crowley and Aziraphale is to try to carry on an entire conversation that is happening on one, surface level but is really another conversation entirely in the cant. It's their flirty little birdsong. To do that, they're often intentionally choosing words based on the words that are hidden within them or based on the historical or alternative meanings of those words. In other words?

They're using etymology to code their speech.

This is why approximately 80% of the posts on my blog 😂 are taking apart the words in this story and coming at them from their histories and from the words that are within them. I didn't just randomly decide these were the wordplay rules out of nowhere-- I'm literally following the different directions that I keep finding in the keys hidden throughout the story.

So, war is chanted to highlight the importance of looking for hidden words and at looking at the etymology of words. The fact that it's chanted is awfully interesting because...

...the word chant comes from the Latin verb cantere, which meant to sing. Chanting is a spoken word version of music, right? You know what other cousin word to chant also comes from cantere?

Cant, baby. 😉

The word for the kind of hidden language that Crowley and Aziraphale have formed is etymologically related to the very first sound we ever hear in the series. The chanting of the word war is really the story chanting cant! at the audience.

So, the word that means a hidden language is a variant of the word that means to chant, or to speak-sing... and both words are from the same Latin verb for singing.

So, now, we just connected canting to music-- something that seems significant considering that the characters are birds and Nightingales, as we'll look at below, is the word that Crowley and Aziraphale use to reference their romantic cant.

Because canting is a big way of expressing love for one another, it is also somewhat synonymous for them with love and romance, which is how Crowley said "no nightingales" in The Final 15 and meant I was canting and you didn't hear what I was saying but *Aziraphale* heard that and took it instead as more like this isn't loving me-- you don't love me and started to cry.

Music is language. Singing is talking is canting.

This is also why, if you go to a church service, the person whose job it is to lead everybody in singing is called a cantor... which is actually the same word you could use to refer to someone who is speaking in a cant.

This is part of the humor when Crowley and Aziraphale are canting up a storm in St. James' Park in the first episode and Crowley jokes that there won't be anyone Up there for Aziraphale to cant/to sing with in Heaven (and to "sing with") because Up there, there's only...

So, if we take these clues from war/warning and we apply them to one of the biggest words in Good Omens when it comes to Crowley and Aziraphale and their language, we can figure out why the obsession throughout the story with the nightingales, right?

What are literal nightingales? They're a nocturnal songbird, right? They're birds that are up and singing and mating during the evening, when most other birds are asleep, which is in keeping with Crowley and Aziraphale's secret relationship and how they often meet up to spend time together during the night. They're nocturnal birds themselves. [This is also one of the main reasons why the Job minisode-- with the courtyard scene that sees them begin to form the cant-- is entitled "A Conversation with Owls", which are wise old nocturnal birds.]

Nightingales are called that because the night part is obviously related to the night and the gale part is from the Old English galan/galon, which meant to sing. Considering what we went into about singing and canting above, it makes for a good word related to the hidden language. So, what about the wars within warning here? What words are in nightingales?

Ale, which is a type of alcohol, which is sex in the cant, and the homophone for night-- knight, which they both once literally were. While knights were men, the word gal is also in there because they're all the flavors. Finally, a gale is a big storm, particularly one at sea, and the two of them have a long history of literal nights in storms together-- The Flood, Job, etc.-- but a storm for these two with their fish/the sea metaphor for sex seems also likely euphemistic/metaphoric for a passionate night.

The poetic name for the nightingale is the philomel, from the Greek philomela, and it has a rather perfect etymology for this conversation. Philos is Greek for a lover and for loving something. The -mel/-mela part of the word, though, has two, different etymological tracks. The Greek word melos means a tune or a song, which would make philomel mean "lover of song". However, the Greek mela is actually the word for the apple, which would also make philomel mean "lover of apples."

The evolution of -mel/-mela in words from Greek has a lot of overlap between the meanings of apples and songs to a point that it could, in all likelihood, easily mean both. The inclusion of apples also references what they consider the start of their relationship in Eden.

Nightingales are philomels-- lovers of music, of cant, of apples and of "apples." As many have pointed out, the French word for the nightingale is rossignol... but the birds are not the only thing that rossignol means.

A rossignol is also a skeleton key, or a master key. It's a key that unlocks all the other doors-- which is, functionally, what nightingales is in the series.

If you understand what a nightingale is, you've cracked the code enough to understand that there's a cant and you're figuring out how to speak it, which is also then how you can understand more about what you're watching through understanding more of what Crowley and Aziraphale are saying.

Rossignol became the French word for a skeleton key because of the Rossignol family, who created The Great Cypher that coded French state secrets for generations. It's a reference to a cant that was developed to keep France safe and Aziraphale plays on that when flirting with Crowley in S2.

"I went to Monsieur Rossignol's night classes in 1760."

"I went to" (past tense of to go to, euphemistic for to come) "Monsieur Rossignol's" (Monsieur is French for "my lord"-- this is "My Lord Nightingale's") "night classes" (night time; knights but lass in class = classy lass b/c Aziraphale's Lord Nightingale is Lord Gender Fuckery). French is also old slang for oral sex. Aziraphale learned how to speak it the hard way. 😂

Aziraphale's French flirtation to Crowley in this scene is also a riff on a phrase related to vocabulary, which, as we know, is what a cant is. He references la plume de ma tantes, which are those sentences you are taught when learning to speak a new language that are things you are probably never, ever, ever going to say in real life but which are worded in this way to teach you more vocabulary faster than you would otherwise learn it.

Frances McDormand's The Voice of God is largely reading passages from the Good Omens' novel in S1 and many of the things she is saying are la plume de ma tantes, as part of her job as a character is to help teach us Nightingales. Some examples: "He probably wins prizes for his tropical fish" and "The Russian cultural attache's black bread is particularly sought after by the more discerning duck."

Nightingales is then a word that references their cant but the cant is really two things. It exists to mask their speech in public so that they can really be saying sweet things to one another when sounding like they're bickering enemies on the surface but they also just love it. They love words and their history is also the history of words on Earth, as they're the ones who have been here since the beginning through these evolutions. They're walking, talking etymological dictionaries and wording each other is a literal love language. They use it in private, too, because they enjoy it.

A cant, fundamentally, is a private vocabulary. It's a type of dialect made up of giving existing words secret, private meaning known only to those who speak the cant.

If you have a partner or a long-time friend or family members where you have a series of in-jokes and references and words that mean something different to your small group than they would to outsiders, you actually speak a form of cant. This is called a familect and most of us speak at least one or two. Nightingales is a structured, secret code and it's a fun game that they love to play together but it's also just the private vocabulary of a couple.

This is where we're going to come back to caveat.

So, we can see why war into warning was a good way to signal the cant on television and start to explain it but what about how it was originally done in the novel? What's the pun there?

The book and the tv series have almost the exact same caveat/warning, as you pointed out. Other than changing the word caveat to the word warning in the tv series, the only other thing that's different is the very beginning of the second line.

The book is this:

CAVEAT

Kids! Bringing about Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home.

The tv series is this:

WAR... WARNING

Kids! Causing Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home.

As you can see, the only other difference is the 'bringing about' from the novel being changed to 'causing' in the tv series. It'll seem weird that I'm going to say that this is not that big a deal but it's not and the reason why is because they didn't actually delete it entirely. They just moved it into a different la plume de ma tante within the same episode-- one that helps to reinforce that Armageddon has different layers of meaning. The "bringing about" is here in this bit:

This leaves us with the change from caveat and the significance of that word. Like the quick war/warning in the opening of 1.01, we can now expect that the caveat is there to talk about cant, right? And, in fact, it very much is.

First off, the caveat is located on the copyright page of the novel, which is where all the info about the book is located. This is where we can mention that the words that are in the caveat and the war/warning are phrased in such a way so as to immediately invoke an informercial.

When you read them, you most likely think of the phrase: "Kids! Don't try this at home!", right? The phrase is synonymous with infomercials of the '80s and '90s, in particular, where how something worked was detailed in the commercial as part of the enticement to buy it.

While the television floating in outer space in 1.01 is a visual metaphor for streaming television, there was already this television reference in the caveat in the book back when it was first published because the language of that medium was being used in this little message on the copyright page previewing how the product that the reader had bought or was thinking of buying worked.

Caveat is Latin for a warning and translates to "let the person beware." You've probably heard of people saying "buyer beware" as a disclaimer for a product, yes? That evolved from the famous Latin phrase that meant that same thing, which was caveat emptor.

Caveat emptor was a phrase meaning that the buyer was responsible for doing their due diligence on a product before deciding to purchase and use it. So, the book opens with the word CAVEAT shouted at the reader and what follows is actually the warning that people would need to be fulfilling the idea of caveat emptor... and only the word caveat appears on the page. The space next to it is, um, empty. There's the first pun of the book and the first hint at there being hidden words... but this isn't even the best part of the choice of the word caveat to open the novel.

Arguably the most famous book related to cant in history is a book called A Caveat or Warning for Common Cursitors. It's a book that lives at the intersection of religion and cant-- which feels extremely relevant to Good Omens, no?

The book is a purported expose of and glossary of one of the most well-known cants in history, which is Thieves' Cant. The things you need to know about Thieves' Cant is that an absolute fuckton of words we use still today with regards to criminality originated in Thieves' Cant... and that Thieves' Cant is generally considered to have been almost entirely (if not entirely) made up by Thomas Harman, who is the author of the above mentioned book.

The first word in Good Omens-- which features a made up cant designed to help queer code the novel so it could be published and sold-- is a reference to history's most famous made up cant that was also invented to sell books.

Here's another reference to a commercial cant before I tell you more relevant things about Thieves' Cant... Gabriel and the neato fan.

Gabriel is using the first novel of Discworld as a literal fan and there's also the fact that the Discworld books do make neato fans-- as in, fans of the books. The other meaning, though, is that, in the Victorian era, there was this thing called Fan Language that was a secret language completely made up by a fan maker whose sales were dipping to sell more fans. It took off in public, though, and people started actually using it and a fan, as a result, is one word that can be used to refer to a cant.

Good Omens' cant shares foundations with how language is used in Pratchett's Discworld so when Gabriel takes a copy of the first Discworld novel-- The Color of Magic-- and is like "books are keen!" (kee, homophone: key) and starts fanning it in Saraqael's face and saying that Discworld can make a "neato fan"...

Gabriel doesn't know it, of course, but, on a meta level, he's telling everyone that the cant is the brainchild of Terry Pratchett and comes from all of the evident love of etymology woven throughout his Discworld novels. It's saying that Discworld is one of the keys that are helpful to understanding the cant and how language is used in Good Omens.

[Some not at all subtle shade being thrown at You Know Who with this, as well. 😉]

This is also why the literal fans come out during The Meeting Ball when Aziraphale has taught the neighborhood a fan by miracling them all into having the ability to speak 19th-century styled Nightingales.

And, no, for the record, Ms. Cheng is not doing something with her fan that was an approved move in The Secret Fan Language of the Victorian era. 😂

The neato fan and fan language is referencing another cant that was made to use hidden language to sell a product to further the suggestion that Good Omens is doing the same. Another example of this, too, is in the references to The Maltese Falcon, which also used etymology-based queer coding to tell its story.

Crowley had a Maltese Falcon prop overlooking his communication devices (lolololol) in his flat in S1, where it was also positioned to create a shadow when the sun came through, having the effect of revealing a hidden pair of birds.

Back to caveat and the ties between Thieves' Cant and religiosity...

So, we all know from school who Martin Luther was-- he of the whole Protestant Reformation and eventual Lutheranism, etc.. There's a truly weird piece of his history, though, that relates to cant and also doesn't just go along with themes in Good Omens but has a disturbingly relevant connection to things going on in the world right now.

In the 1520s, Martin Luther comes out and starts telling anyone who will listen that even well-educated, Godly people like him can fall victim to thieves and be swindled. He claims that he's been robbed by a group of "vagabonds" who spoke "a secret dialect" to communicate between each other in a way that Luther couldn't understand. Martin Luther didn't just tell his friends about this-- he used his platform of that era to not shut up about it for quite some time.

Martin Luther went so far as to write the forward for the German edition of a book called Liber Vagatorum, which became known in English as The Book of Vagabonds and Beggars. It was a book that claimed to be the first glossary of what would eventually become known as Thieves' Cant (or Peddler's French). Liber Vagatorum was kind of an early days book on this subject, which involved the "culture wars" of this era.

Basically, during this time period, a few things were happening at once that made people like Martin Luther and other religious leaders very nervous. One was that, while books were still expensive, the population as a whole was rapidly becoming more literate. Religious fundamentalists do not like literacy because literate people are generally more liberal and much harder to control.

The other thing going on is massive wealth disparity causing there to be a large number of vagabonds-- people who are homeless and/or hungry, and whose only "crimes" are begging for money, loitering/sleeping in public spaces, and maybe some petty theft for food and medicine. They're not actually dangerous criminals but people who need help in a society with no social safety nets. Probably because of this wealth disparity, a thing called rogue literature becomes incredibly popular.

Rogue literature are stories about criminals. Some of them are about sympathetic, heroic, Robin Hood-type characters. Some of them are just about legit bad guys but maybe exploring areas of moral greyness or just having a villain for a protagonist. This is incredibly liberal storytelling for the very religious time period and popular fiction is exploding as a result. This world of more secular, more liberal imagination is threatening to those trying to keep their power through religion.

In order to thwart this, leaders like Martin Luther and others began to equate these "rogues"-- real and fictional-- with the demonic... and the vagabonds with the rogues. Stop me if this is sounding a little familiar, particularly if you're currently living in the United States.

Making this worse is that punishment for crime back then was fucking brutal. You could be hanged if you were caught stealing more than once. People were tortured-- the stocks, whipping people, all that stuff was commonplace. And there was basically no real separation of church and state so if the religious leaders said that things like hunger and homelessness made vagabonds as criminal as rogues and if those criminals were all demonic, then you can see the desperation happening here for social control, right?

Back then, as always, there some signal words that some thieves would use to know if they were speaking with someone who was friendly or to communicate without outsider knowledge but there wasn't this established, elaborate secret language that Martin Luther and others claimed there was. So, why did they claim that there was this thing?

They were looking to make rogues seem demonic and dangerous and empowering their flock to know how to fight the evil darkness living among them. Some believed that to be true but others were just drawn in because, ya know... secret codes and underworlds are kinda fun, actually? The church leaders told everyone that these rogues were all demonic and they spoken in a secret code and people got really into figuring it out. Most claimed they were doing it for pious, morally upstanding reasons... but everybody likes a good bit of hidden mystery.

The religious zealots of that time were trying to use this secret language thing to make rogues seem scarier and draw people closer to the church again and that probably worked for some but, overall, it pretty much backfired because people like a bit of fun mystery. It wound up making the rogue world all that sexier... whether everyone pouring over notes to decode it wanted to admit that or not. 😉

Think about references to other things like this in Good Omens... like how R.P. Tyler makes sure to watch all those "scandalous" programs on the BBC before he writes in to complain about them... because God forbid, he just admit that he likes a bit of spice in his television shows. Think about the jokes around The Velvet Underground which, before it was the tongue-in-cheek name of a brilliant rock band, was a bestselling book from the early 1960s that was a pearl-clutching "expose" of all the whole "secret world of deviant sex" that was existing all around everyone.

This is, fundamentally, all the same nonsense that was going on with the religious people going at those demonic rogues and vagabonds in the Thieves' Cant era and trying to shame people by saying enjoying popular literature was unholy. It's all about using religion as a form of social control.

There's always people who want to make a buck at the expense of others and don't really care about the morality of that, though, and this guy Thomas Harman saw an opportunity in 1566 to make some cash by publishing the book on Thieves' Cant (which he went full bigot on and also referred to as Peddler's French in his book.) Harman claimed expert status by saying that he had been taught the cant by an actual rogue but even plenty of people back then-- let alone pretty much every historian since-- thought that this sounded less than true.

Still! People like a secret code, man, and life was really boring back then. The book was a huge hit. Even writers of rogue literature who were pretty sure it was bullshit decided to put some of these words into their stories-- namely because many of their readers thought Harman's book was true and that this is how thieves'/rogues spoke so they were demanding "authenticity."

What happened is word evolution at its finest. As these books continued to exist into future generations, the cant Harman is thought to have personally invented to sell his book became the etymological origins of words related to criminality that are still really common in English. Amusingly, many of them have even been adopted by criminals themselves.

This is just a handful of words and phrases that originated from Thieves' Cant:

The mafia term "made man"; a fence being the term for a person who will sell stolen goods; the phrase die hard, which meant to face the gallows without fear; to flog meaning to whip; to grease (someone's palms) meaning to bribe them; to take a hike; to hoodwink someone; hush money; jail bird; to lift meaning to steal; to be left in the lurch...

This is only a sampling and it shows the impact of all of this well into today. The point is that Thieves' Cant is not just one of the most influential cants that has ever existed but it is also the most famous example of one that was not organically created. This guy sat down and wrote it in order to be able to sell a book.

The point in this reference here is that Thomas Harman was helping religious zealots in making up this cant to sell this book... while Good Omens is a satire of people exactly like Harman, Martin Luther, and these other religious zealots. The cant made up for Good Omens was done to queer code it so it could be published in a society that could barely tolerate the surface-level blasphemy of the book, let alone the queer romance at the center of the story.

Thieves' Cant was partially a tool of oppression while Good Omens' Nightingales Cant is a hidden language that exists to allow freer speech.

If you take the words-within-words rule and apply it to caveat, you quickly see the words cav, cave, and eat, right?

The eat makes sense to us pretty instantly because of all the food in the story and the role of Famine. Cav is a word related to horses (think: cavalier). So, now, we have food and horses, both of which aren't just euphemistic in Crowley and Aziraphale's cant but are part of the overall figurative language in the story and in things like The Four Horsepeople of The Apocalypse, whose job it is to start the war of Armageddon. Finally, and most importantly, there's the word cave.

Cave as a verb means to fall in. It's saying right up front that the story is about falling in all meanings of the word and that likely includes Aziraphale's fall here in the tv series. Consider the presence of the cave in the opening titles...

Caveat, as a word, shows what causes a person's own Armageddon, which is fundamentally what the story is about. It's famine. It's hunger. It's a lack of not just literal food but every kind of food-- it's lacking sustenance and satisfaction. It's when we push that away that The Four Horsepeople start to metaphorically show up at our door. That's when we're likely to fall-- to cave in, to collapse. That war within ourselves is for what the book is a warning.

I think that caveat has maybe actually found its way into the Good Omens tv series, if not quite at the start of the series. It's this visual warning in S2:

Kids! Causing Armageddon can be dangerous! Do not attempt it in your own home! There's some more things in here but just a quick look at some of these starter things here...

Kids!-- A note to pay attention to the multiple meanings of words, such as how kids is a word that applies to tiny humans and baby goats and, facetiously, people of basically any age; and also a note to be aware of wordplay using the animal kingdom.

Dangerous-- In the tv series, the word that basically single-handedly proves hidden language by how Aziraphale's use of it in the 1967 scene makes absolutely no sense without seeing that he and Crowley are speaking in a cant. ["I can't have you risking your life-- not even for something dangerous."] Take this apart and you find quite a few romantic things.

Do not attempt it in your own home-- One thing here is that this can be two, separate-but-related sentences: Do not attempt. It in your own home. But, if you look at words-within-words and homophony, this can also be a warning that seems true of many situations but also awfully relevant to the end of Season Two...

Do not/knot at tempt. It in your own home.

[rebelcracker-s]

hey!! this is chance and here’s week 5’s prompt. your oc suddenly gets transported to a mall. what store(s) would they go in? would they buy anything? what would they think? tell me about the experience.

hihi! thanks for the ask :3 i keep forgetting to do these i'm so sorry 😭 but i'm brainrotting about my ocs right now so im gonna do it now! >:3

for the mcs of my wip luminlost, i think it would be really hilarious if edith and margaret were dropped into a mall bc they're from the 1910s and they would be absolutely DUMBFOUNDED by the sight of it. they would wander around really confused for a while. they would get lost and end up in hot topic. they would have a breakdown in hot topic. edith would buy a mushroom cardigan. they would walk out very confused about everything. :D

zaara and emery (the blorbos ever!) from my other wip zaara & emery raise the dead would be menaces. zaara would run around EVERYWHERE and emery would just follow her around super calmly. they have a witchy academia vibe :3 so their top spots would be barnes & noble and lush, basically anything that can get them even vaguely witchy stuff! :DDDDD

[stardestroyer81]

Last July, I expressed interest in wanting to create arcade flyer-inspired character cards for the colorful cast of Rascal... and only ended up making one for the titular bunny boy. To make up for it, however, I think it's finally time to reveal Rascal's full cast...

... by way of a group shot and sprite showcase! 🍬🧡💙🧡🍬

[zipquips]

tbh i think i will always be extremely frustrated that one of my profs asks very open ended questions and then grades everyone exactly the same despite massive differences in effort

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀!

Sylus

Pairing: Sylus x f!Reader

Summary: You leave a memento for Sylus before your business trip

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), FILMING (aka they make a sex tape), Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Cockwarming, Nipple Play, Praising

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Sylus gets pouty when he realizes you’ll be gone for a week. He doesn’t know how he ever survived without you. The thought almost seems impractical now. 

The issue with Sylus is that you notice he’s upset, but nobody else does. Sylus successfully manages to suppress any and all of his feelings. To everyone else he looks normal, but you notice that something is off with him. His lips are slightly pursed together instead of being in their typical straight line. His eyebrows are more together than usual, and you can’t help but notice how he subtly wrinkles his nose when you mention that you’ll be gone for a week.

He’s upset, but every time that you mention it Sylus completely denies it. He typically laughs, as if you’ve told some sort of joke when you’ve simply pointed out your observations. He keeps up the facade that he’s a big and strong man that won’t get upset by his girlfriend leaving him; even if it’s with you. You won’t push the matter though, if he claims that he isn’t upset then he’s not upset.

“Is everything packed?” Sylus asks, staring at the pink bag that contains all of your stuff for the week. Sure, it’s big but not enough for a week’s worth of clothes and necessities. It surprises him when you nod. “Sweetie, I know you aren’t low maintenance…”

“You act like I’ll be gone for a month. It’s just a week, and I’ll mostly be in uniform.” You respond, and you watch as his face contorts. He’s upset. Your eye could twitch at his reaction– It’s not that you’re mad that he’s upset, you’re mad because he denies it. No matter what you say he’ll deny it.

“Right, it’s just a week.” He answers. Comforting yet distressful words. 

“But maybe you’re right, in case I need to stay for longer I should pack–” You begin but before you can even finish the thought, the man cuts you off.

“Why would you need to stay for longer?” His words almost come out jumbled from how fast he speaks. He notices how he acts and corrects his speech, “Doesn’t the association have other hunters? Why would they exclusively force you to stay?”

“I’m important at my job, Sylus.” You point out, getting pouty yourself. However, you should be happy. You can see the distress in his eyes by the mere suggestion that you might have to stay for longer. “And since you won’t miss me around, I might just stay longer.”

“You’re more than welcome to.” He crosses his arms, not willing to let you win in this petty game that you have suddenly created. 

“Fine.” You frown, grabbing your bag from the bedroom and heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” He questions as you begin to walk away.

“I’m sleeping in the guest room.” You announce, and you watch as he clenches his jaw; yet, he won’t say a thing. He nods. He’ll let you have your way.

You expect Sylus to be in your room within thirty minutes, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You know him enough to know that he’ll show up to your room eventually, you’re just not sure that you’ll be awake for when that happens. Your eyes are getting heavy, before you know it, you’ll be asleep.

Luckily, at thirty-one minutes, you feel a heavy weight settle in beside you. He’ll continue to deny that he’s upset. But he doesn’t have to admit that he’s upset for you to know– What difference will it make if he admits it?

“Are you asleep?” He whispers as his arm goes over your body, bringing you closer to him. You hum in response, quickly followed by a giggle from you. “Does that mean you don’t want to talk?”

“Will you admit that you’ll miss me?” You ask him as you feel his cold hand going under your shirt, looking for warmth. You nearly squeal at the cold hands, but you’re used to them. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, answering your question in the most unusual manner.

“Who’s going to warm me up?” He responds.

“Mephisto.” You joke, but he can’t find any humor in your words. He’s serious, yet you’re laughing.

“And who’ll keep me company?” He continues while your hand caresses his arm. He’s letting himself be soft, a pleasure that only you get to witness. He’d call it his weak side, but you think it’s his finest trait.

“I’m only one call away.” You remind him, but you understand that it’s not the same. You take his hand out of your shirt and turn on your side to look at him. He’s looking down at you with soft eyes, completely filled with worry.

“I want to see your face.” He says, and your hand goes to his cheek, pinching it. 

“Your phone has a camera, silly. You’re always calling me on facetime.” He’s finding issues with anything and everything, all which has a solution. Your lips land on the tip of his nose before you ask, “Is it because you’re going to miss my kisses and undivided attention?”

He stays quiet, and you peck his lips. You kiss him over and over again. You’ll do it until he asks you to stop, but Sylus is never going to stop you. As long as you’re all over him, he’s happy. 

“Kiss your hand whenever you miss me.” Your thumb caresses his cheek, and he looks at you with adoring eyes. You press your forehead against his, while his arm brings you closer to him.

“What if I’m missing more than just your kisses?” He asks, and your brows perk up. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s insinuating, but you choose to act stupid. You want to hear the exact words.

“Hmm… What do you mean?” You sit up, batting your eyelashes at him. A smirk comes to his lips, noting the mischief in your eyes. You get on top of him, knees on either side of him while his hands go to your waist.

“You know exactly what I mean, kitten.” He responds, his hands going under your shirt once again– This time, they aren’t looking for warmth; they’re being naughty and trailing up your skin. “What will I do when I need more than your kisses?”

“You have the internet.” You remind him, reaching into his pocket to pull out his precious phone. You input the password, one that so perfectly matches with your birthday, and open the browser on his phone. Before you can begin typing, he snatches the phone from your hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sylus’ eyes narrow as he stares at the tiny screen. You bite down your lip, suppressing a smirk. His eyes look back and forth between you and his phone.

“I was going to show you where you can go whenever you need a little bit more–” You begin, but he cuts you off. He’s almost offended that you were about to even suggest that.

“Why would I want to watch anyone that isn’t you, kitten?” He raises an eyebrow, and you feel your cheeks get warm at his comment. His hand goes under your chin, tilting your head to look directly down at him. “Do you understand my frustration?”

“It’s only a week.” Your words bring little to no comfort to him. 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds. It’s not just a week. “What else can I do? It’s my job.”

“I told you that you can always quit– But since you don’t want to do that… Nothing.” He ends up sighing. You’d almost feel bad for Sylus, if he weren’t overreacting. You’ve lost count of the amount of times the amount suddenly disappeared for days on end.

“You’ll survive.” You tell him, as your eyes land on his phone. An idea comes to your mind, but you don’t have the guts to outright suggest it. You peck his lips before you whisper, “If you tell me you’ll miss me then I’ll do you a favor.”

“Which is?” He questions, and he watches your eyes land on his phone. He doesn’t need to be told twice, or in this case, not even once. He moves your hair out of the way and kisses your forehead, lips moving down to the tip of your nose and then your lips. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“Now you can admit it.” You joke, lips landing on his, more intensely than any kiss you’ve shared tonight. His breathing gets heavy, body temperature suddenly rising as he feels your lips on yours. The moment an opening comes to you, your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his own. 

His hands roam through your body, going under your shirt and landing on your tits. Fingers circle and lightly pinch your nipples while his teeth bite down your bottom lip before pulling away. Sylus can’t properly enjoy himself before you push his hands away from your breasts,

You grab his phone, opening the camera and beginning the video, before forcing him to take it. You smile at the camera before your hands lift up your shirt, putting on a show for the screen. Sylus’ free hand can’t help itself, quickly fondling your chest.

“Make sure you get my good angle.” You adjust the camera before your body moves down. You begin to kiss his lower abdomen, moving down until his briefs stop you. Your finger hooks under the waist band, pulling down and freeing his cock from its restraints. 

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, giving it a couple of strokes before you spit on it. Your head moves down, tongue circling the tip of his dick, earning a groan from him. He tries to keep the phone still, not wanting to look back at the footage and watch blurry footage, but it’s hard to keep still when he’s so sensitive. 

Eyes look up at him as your mouth wraps around his length, taking in as much as you can. You slowly bob your head, each movement earning a sound from the man. You’re putting on a show for him– Making a memorable video for him. It’ll be his most prized possession, yet the most confidential.

“Good job.” He praises, almost out of breath as your mouth gags on his cock. Tears well up in your eyes, his dick too much for you to handle. You’re trying to outdo yourself for the audience, taking all of him while you know that you can’t.

“You’re such a good girl.” He tells you while you take your mouth off his cock, spit coating your chin as you gasp for air. 

“Is it good, baby? Will you be thinking of this while I’m gone?” Your eyes are focused on the camera, not even bothering on looking at your boyfriend. Sylus would complain, if his eyes weren’t rolling to the back of his head. Your lips kiss the tip before your tongue circles around his cock again.

His voice gets louder as your mouth sets just the right pace. His breath gets caught up in his chest, slowly losing control. Your hand massages his balls as you watch Sylus’ face contort with pleasure.

Sylus moans your name as his cum hits the back of your throat. He groans as he empties himself inside your mouth. You take your mouth off his cock, making sure to swallow every last drop of his cum and sticking your tongue out so the camera can see how much of a good girl you are.

“Good girl, making sure to not waste a single drop.” Sylus says, his hand going down to your mouth and wiping the corner of your mouth. Your face goes up, lips landing on his own, which he happily receives. When he pulls away, he reminds you, “You have to complete the show, kitten.”

“Put the phone on the nightstand.” You tell him, and while he tries to find the perfect position, you take off your pants. His hands get shaky, desperate to continue. It’s the last time he’ll see you like this for a week, and he’ll make sure to enjoy every single minute. 

“Fuck– Fuck!” He curses as the phone falls, something that he’ll have to edit out of the video– Is he seriously thinking about editing his sex tape? He can simply fast forward, but that’ll just ruin his mood.

“Will you hurry?” You whine, getting desperate to feel him inside of you. You can’t wait for him to find the perfect position. Just as he settles the phone down perfectly, you push your panties to the side. You align his cock with your entrance, and slowly settle down on his length. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock fills you up.

“Fuck…” He mutters, out of breath as he feels your cunt wrap around him. As much as he loves your mouth, it truly can’t compare. Oh, he could cry knowing that he’ll only have his hand for a week. He’ll make do with what you’ve given him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan, adjusting to his dick before you begin to move. You’re bouncing on his cock, setting a slow pace. His hands grip your ass while he lifts his face to bury it between your tits. He’ll make sure to enjoy his last few moments with you; it’s why you call him overdramatic, he acts as if he’ll never see you again. Though, right now you can’t complain about the way he acts. His tongue licks your cleavage before his mouth successfully latches onto your nipple.

Sylus moves his hips, moving much faster than you. You meet him half way, moans getting louder as his cock hits every right spot. Maybe you’re putting on such a show because you want the video yourself, you’ll definitely need it. You grab a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back which causes him to bite down before pulling away. The pain adds to the pleasure.

“You’re doing such a good job.” You talk to him as if he were a pathetic little pet. A tone of voice which he hates to admit he enjoys. “Are you my good boy, Sylus?”

“Yes.” He admits, sex brain getting the best of him– No, it’s something that he’d admit at any other time with you… Not with people around, but regardless, he’d admit it. “I’m your good boy, kitten.”

You smile, eyes darting directly at the tiny camera that captures the moment. Surely, he’ll deny that he ever said those words but luckily, you have an audience this time around.

“You feel so good.” He tells you, one hand going down to play with your clit. Your breath hitches, your hands wrapping to the back of his neck as your lips land on his. He’s met with pure carnal desire, a side of you that he rarely comes across with. A side that he thoroughly enjoys. 

“I’m gonna– Fuck–” You begin as you pull away, but you can’t finish your sentence. You begin to tighten around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching and taking over you. 

“Come all over me, sweetheart.” His eyes look down at his cock, watching as your pussy wraps around it. A sight that he’ll be thinking about for 604,800 seconds. His phone will do no justice. 

“Sylus– It’s so fucking good!” You’re practically screaming, surely making a spectacle of yourself. You’d make a great actress, that’s for sure. You throw your head back, mouth falling agape as pleasure consumes you.

“Good job, kitten. Good job.” He praises you as your orgasm consumes you and you make a mess all over him. He can’t help but grab the phone and practically show off to where your two bodies meet. It’s a sight that he never wants to forget about.

“Look at you, you made such a mess.” He clicks his tongue, but it’s a mess that he appreciates, especially with how your pussy feels around him. Your lips meet once again, while his thrusts become unregulated. 

“I’m gonna come inside you, okay?” He tells you, making you frantically nod in response. Before you know it, Sylus’ seed coats your insides. The man is unwilling to pull out until he makes sure that every last drop of his cum is inside of you– Though that’s hard as it drips out of your cunt and coats his cock. 

Sylus makes sure to get one last frame of your pussy, before panning the camera to your face. You smile at the camera, winking before you kiss the lens. That’s when Sylus decides to end the perfect video. 

“Is that enough for you?” You ask as you try to lift yourself up from his cock, but his hands hold you down.

“Let’s stay like this for a bit.” You swear you see a pout on his lips once again. He doesn’t want to let you go just yet.

“Fine.” You agree as his lips peck yours ever-so-lovingly.

“I’ll miss you.” He finally admits, and you smile before kissing him again. You had imagined the revelation to be more romantic… But this will make do.

“I love you, Sylus.”

“I love you too.”

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

pillow talk - spencer reid x fem!reader

a night well spent fizzles out into soft words exchanged in pink sheets.

genre: fluff wc: 1019 warnings: mentioned sex, their first time together, casual nudity, inexperienced reader, insecurities, reassurance

It was soft, comforting even. Of course intense because how else could your first time together be? It was him, after all. As you lay, heavy pants finally returning to normal, steady breaths, a hand comes up to smooth down your hair and a kiss is gently pressed to your head.

"How do you feel?" Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

It proves to be a difficult question. A response seems counterintuitive, like it would demean the moment into something that has to be assessed. An answer has to come, nonetheless.

"I don't know." And it's the truth.

He hums thoughtfully and nods, running a hand down your shoulder. "Good or bad?"

"Good... like my brain's empty. If that makes sense," you answer.

Your head, on Spencer's bare chest, does, in fact, feel foggy. Before today, you were both too scared of the intimacy. Something changed the moment you felt him move his grip from your hip to your waist, like he was worried that he might make you uncomfortable. You didn't want that. It happened only after convincing him that you wanted to go further than the usual groping and hand stuff. Now you're unsure how you feel. Having someone you've been seeing for a while suddenly inside you is bizarre and always will be. You also can't seem to shake that voice that sounds a lot like your friends, telling you that he'll leave after he gets what he wants. Your mind is simply a flurry of everything that anyone has ever told you about intimacy. With Spencer, it was different, though.

Your hand finds his and you mindlessly toy with his fingers as you murmur, "you've done this more than me, correct?"

"Correct."

"How do people usually feel?" you ask softly.

"Everybody's different. You don't need to feel good." He takes a breath and explains in a matter-of-fact tone, his hand lifting above your shoulder to gesture while he talks, "the rush of serotonin and dopamine into our system can leave some people feeling sad or tired once those neurotransmitters decrease."

You nod, finding yourself understanding. It has been a while since you've engaged in any form of intimacy.

"That makes sense."

He nods as his fingers drop to continue the irregular patterns on your arm. His chin rests on your head. "So? How do you feel?"

Again, there's no correct answer to his question. It's a complicated experience with complicated feelings attached. But one thing is for sure, "I'm happy."

"I'm glad. I am, too," he hums.

A smile floats over your lips before a thought occurs and you have an inkling as to how he'll choose to reply to it. Your head lifts and you turn so you're now partly on your side, giving you a perfect view of his face in the soft glow of the afternoon. With the curtains closed, his skin was basked in pale yellow light, the pink of your sheets contrasting the pink of his cheeks.

"Did I do good?" you grin.

He finds you gorgeous, your sickeningly sweet smile making him gaze down at you in pure awe. It's the complete and utter truth when he responds with, "very."

You can't help but tease, "best you've ever had?"

"Yes. I don't think you could've fumbled that badge of honour if you tried," he smiles, his hand gently cupping your cheek, a rough thumb wiping away invisible tears.

Something about the sentiment gets to you. After all, you're nothing but a hopeful romantic. But you're also just a girl.

"So, even if I was bad, you'd still lie and say I wasn't?" you raise your eyebrows and bat your eyelashes.

His eyes narrow but the smile on his face shows you that he's not really upset. "No... I meant that I think I like you too much to not enjoy everything you do."

"Oh," you flush. Why does he have to be so perfect?

The hand on your cheek moves up to brush some of your hair back. "Yeah, oh."

Spencer's different than the guys you've interacted with. He's everything that little girls everywhere dream of. He's Prince Charming. That's why when your lips meet his and the sheet falls back, his eyes never once glance down. Perhaps he's an agent and an individual with three PhDs but he's a gentleman above all else. He never once wants to make you feel like he's not here for you.

When your lips break apart with happy smiles on both of your faces, you take in just how silly he looks. His hair is messy from your fingers, his cheeks are flushed and—your favourite of all—he's covered up to his stomach in pink sheets. The giggle that leaves you is unnecessary and unasked for.

He can't help the smile that comes from hearing your laugh. "What?" he mutters, brows furrowed.

"You just look... so very silly in my bed," you explain, a lovesick grin on your face.

"Oh. Well, I can't help what you choose as interior design."

You sigh dramatically, shaking your head like a disappointed teacher, "I suppose you can't."

The smile on his lips only grows as you act your ass off to seem sad by his comment.

"Perhaps I should also purchase pink sheets?" he suggests jokingly, tucking yet another stray strand behind your ear.

"I really think you should. It would complement your room and it would make you think of me so that's a bonus," you nod. You're unable to stay serious, though, the corners of your mouth lifting despite your efforts.

Spencer nods back, his bottom lip pushing up as he hums decisively. "I'm sold, let's go to the store," he says with an impressively straight face.

You laugh hard, beaming up at him with nothing but pure joy. You find his commitment to the bit amusing and, honestly, endearing. He points his thumb towards the bedroom door with his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Playfully, your eyes roll and rest your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll get pink sheets if you want me to," Spencer softly mutters.

[teaboot]

Got any tips for taking standardized tests? I would like to follow the patterns like a trained rat

Read the entire test before you start. This will give you an idea of what you’re in for, but in reading tests or literature exams, a lot of questions are answered by later questions. For example, “what is the setting of the story?” may later be followed by, “what may we infer from the protagonist’s description of 1880’s urban Westminster?”.

Strategize. If you’re a slow worker, maybe do the questions worth the most points first. If you’re not confident in your knowledge, maybe answer all the easier questions first, then leave the hardest for last.

In multiple choice questions, read the options before the question. Let them inform your assessment of the question itself.

In math, if none of the multiple choice options match your calculated answer, go with whatever is closest.

If you truly cannot figure out a multiple choice answer, start by eliminating the worst options and work backwards.

If all multiple choice options seem equally absurd, choose C. Assuming it gives you four options (average in my experience) this mathematically gives you AT LEAST a 25% chance of being right- slightly more, too, as C is statistically the correct answer slightly more frequently on average. Don't quote me on that though- the important thing is to “randomly” pick the same letter every time this happens, so at least 1 out of 4 works out.

Don't leave anything blank. Even if your odds of being right are one in a hundred, thats still better than zero.

For written answers, include the question in the answer. If the question is, “How are the blue curtains symbolic of the protagonist’s emotional state?”, rearrange the question as you present your argument. “The blue curtains serve as a symbol of the protagonist’s emotional state by…(supported argument here)”. Helps you structure your argument and looks tidier to the reader, but also if the person doing the grades is just skimming shit they may just see that you kinda get the idea and give you benefit of the doubt when marking.

I mean, in an ideal world all classes are taught for COMPREHENSION, as the lessons they teach have value beyond academic achievement and will serve you in many unexpected ways throughout your life beyond the academic, but seeing how standardized testing and AI cheats are flushing everything down the toilet as-is I’d be happy to see some more real and honest good old-fashion grifting tbh

[okwonyo]

CAN YOU SEE ME？ IM WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME ..

──── 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇.

bsf!enhypen x fem!rea 7OO non-idol au fluff potential future relationship ૮(^﹏^ ! skinship jealousy 【 MUSÉE 】

じや wrote this in a rush ! enjoy 🎀

rbs ✶ comments please + daily

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ｡ ｡ watches you from a distance. with his eyes wide as a deer caught in the headlights, he doesn’t say anything or does anything about it— he just watches. he can’t help but observe your movements, the way you laugh or how you tuck your hair behind your ear while you talk to the other man. he studies you, sadness in his eyes, trying to find out if you are interested in someone other than him or not. “what?” you ask him when you see the grimace on his face. instead of answering, he questions you too, “do you like him?” relief washes over him in a wave when you shake your head, “i thought we were just talking but he wanted more,” then you add, “i’d rather spend time with you”.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

𝐉𝐀𝐘 ｡ ｡ is always near you. in any circumstances, in any sort of place. if you are near, he is too— almost as if he was your bodyguard or, you as you prefer to say, guardian angel. any person that approaches you, approaches him too and needs to get approved by him to even talk to you. therefore, there is no need to explain that when a guy tries to talk to you, they get hit by a presence impossible to ignore right behind you. the menacing glares can make anyone pale and stumble over their words in front of you. and the funniest part, is that you are well aware of that but decide to act clueless— always shooting a fake confused look at him before smiling sweetly when yet another man runs away from you.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 ｡ ｡ as your known best friend, many people come to him when they wonder if you are single and try to find a way to ask you out. unfortunately for them, he is not only your best friend but also desperately and irrevocably in love with you. so, in lieu of giving proper answers and advice, he assures them that you are already taken, by no one else but him. and to be completely honest, it works quite well. he even likes to, just for the sake of the silly little lie— of course, be really clingy in front of others. you don’t mind, he has always been like that, and it makes him happy to touch you for a second and be your lover. even if it’s through everyone’s eyes but yours.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎�� ｡ ｡ he has a special radar for whoever has romantic interests towards you. i mean, he would know how having a crush ok you feels like. since he has been in love with you since primary school. so, where are both around someone who seems to like a you a little bit too much, he starts his extra-clingy and affectionate best friend act. draping his arm on your shoulders, talking to you nonstop and asking for your attention as soon as your eyes go on anywhere else but him. “are you drunk?” you laugh all of the time, not even annoyed in the slightest. he is drunk, drunk in love.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 ｡ ｡ he is unable to control his face when a guy comes to talk to you. he stares at him with a disgusted and utterly offended expression on the surface of his face. as soon as romance is being involved, he tugs you close without thinking— the petname ‘sweetheart’ even slip out. you don’t seem to mind, you only excuse yourself to your other interlocutor before focusing fully on your best friend. when you don’t look, he shoots to the flabbergasted man a very proud grin. he loves to be your favorite.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ｡ ｡ he is flabbergasted, took over by immense disbelief and utter shock. he just watched the cashier shamelessly flirt with you— right in front of hom, without decorum. yes, he is not your boyfriend, but come on! he believes that the cashier should have been a little bit ashamed at least. “please,” he pleads as soon as you get out of the shop. “don’t tell me you are going to go out with that guy.” you immediately smile, a teasing question already tingling your tongue, “why? are you jealous?” his heart drops, his face reddens and he starts walking as you chuckle.

𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ｡ ｡ uses all his strength to try to not be jealous— alas, he fails as soon as he even thinks about you and that ‘nobody’ together. he looks at you with sad eyes and a frown, as if he was a kicked puppy, whereupon you tell him you got asked on a date by the stranger. “wouldn’t you rather spend time with me?” he asks you, and you giggle. “what? this guy will be boring in two weeks but, i will be fun forever.” this idiot isn’t even able to contain his happiness when you tell him that he is right, that you will stay with him tonight. he is so happy that he hugs you, tight.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open & network : @sgz-net

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: I Wanna Be Yours - AGE GAP ♡

SUMMARY / You started to develop a crush on your college professor, but had to distance yourself from him when it turned into more than a silly "crush."

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, DOM/SUB dynamics, ANGST in the beginning, older!san (35), younger!reader (24), age gap, cliche student x teacher trope, soft dom!san, sub!reader, unprotected sex, vanilla vanilla vanilla, public sex? (nobody sees them but they're in a library), oral (f), praise, size kink, san is basically a gentle giant

word count ✩ 3,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Y/N? You're my highest ranking student. Do you know the answer?" San's voice cut through the dense silence of the classroom, his gaze landing on you. You felt your cheeks redden as all eyes turned to you. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you realized you hadn't heard the question. Panic set in, but you took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Um," you blink and sit up straight. "I-I wasn't--I wasn't paying attention." The words tumble out, and you can feel the heat spread from your cheeks to your neck. San's gaze lingers for a moment before he nods and moves on to the next student. You sigh with relief, dropping your eyes to your notebook.

You were only in your 20s, while San was well into his 30s so close to being considered middle aged. Even though, some people consider 35 middle aged, so it honestly didn't matter to you.

Every time you would do as little as fantasize having a life with him, you knew it would never happen. Why would he even date someone that much younger than him? And, even if by some miracle he did, you were his student. It was wrong, unprofessional, and you weren't ready for any rumors to start flying. Plus, he had his career to think about, and you had your future. You had to maintain a respectful distance.

So, one random day, you decided to distance yourself from him and you went as far as to drop out of his class. You switched your major, hoping that would help ease the ache in your heart, but it didn't. San's influence lingered everywhere, in the corridors where you heard his laugh echo, in the library where you had studied together, in the cafeteria where you had shared a table, and even in the quiet solitude of your dorm room where you had dreamed of a life beyond the confines of academia.

And here you were, eating by yourself in the empty library café, surrounded by the ghosts of your past happiness. The scent of stale coffee and dusty books filled your nose, a stark contrast to the fresh scent of San's aftershave that had once made your heart flutter. You pushed the textbook away, unable to focus on the words that blurred before your eyes.

"Y/N?" San's voice called out from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen him since the day you dropped his class, and now here he was, standing in the library café, looking more handsome than ever in his tweed jacket and glasses.

"P-Professor-?" you stutter, your voice shaking slightly. You swivel in your chair, trying to compose yourself, but your heart won't cooperate.

"I've been meaning to talk to you but it feels like you're…avoiding me?" San's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation. You felt your throat tighten, unsure of what to say. The truth felt too raw, too embarrassing to admit.

"It's just…I needed to focus on my studies, Professor," you managed to say, hoping the lie wasn't too transparent. "Switching majors has been a bit overwhelming."

"Then why not stay with me?" San asked, his voice gentle but firm. "You had a knack for my class, and I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd go."

"I-It was something personal…" you murmured, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you knew you had to protect him and yourself from the mess your feelings could create. San took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

He sits across from you, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with care. You nod, trying to keep your composure, but his closeness is too much to handle. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I can't say, it's…" You stop mid-sentence, the words lodging in your throat. San's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might see the truth. But instead, he offered a small, understanding smile.

"You can tell me anything." San's hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you had to resist the urge to pull away.

"…I-It's you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush even hotter.

San's hand stilled on yours, and he looked surprised, then a soft smile spread across his face. "What do you mean, 'it's me'?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I mean… I had a crush on you," you blurted out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. The words hung in the air like a confession in a quiet church, and you waited for his reaction, bracing yourself for the worst. "Well, I thought it was a crush until it got…worse."

San's expression grew serious, his smile fading slightly. He removed his hand from yours and leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Worse?" he repeated.

"I know it's inappropriate and wrong," you rushed to explain, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't help it. I had to get away, so I switched majors. I'm sorry if I disappointed you or made things awkward."

San leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background. "Y/N, it's not awkward. It's…unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a hint of something you hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "But it's not unwelcome."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

San took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean that I've noticed the way you look at me, the way you hang on my every word. And I've felt something too." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he was sharing a secret.

The confession hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Could it be possible that he felt the same way?

"I've noticed it too, Y/N," San continued, his voice soft and measured. "But I never acted on it because I knew it would be wrong. I've always respected my students' boundaries, and I respect you more than anyone."

"San, please." You whispered his name, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I don't care if I'm your student."

He leaned back again, his gaze dropping to the table. "But I do." His voice was firm, yet tinged with sadness. "It's not just about us. There's the university policy, our careers, and-"

"I've literally fantasized about you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt the air thicken around you. San's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression softened.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and careful. "You know I care about you. You're an incredible student, and as your teacher, it's my job to support and guide you. But these feelings… They're complicated."

"Do you or do you not like me back?" You blurted out, unable to contain your emotions any longer. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for him to confirm what you hoped was true.

San's gaze remained on you, his eyes searching yours. "I do," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "But we can't let it affect our professional relationship."

"Then it won't, but please. I don't care if I have to date you in private." You looked at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for some kind of connection.

San sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's not that simple."

You sigh and nod, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I understand," you say, trying to sound firm despite the shakiness in your voice.

He reached across the table and grabbed your arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, sit." His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You sat back down, your heart racing.

You snatch your arm away and walk around the table so you were face-to-face with him, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say it," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Y-You want to stay professional so if all I need to do is stay away from you then I will-"

You were interrupted by San's hand, which he placed on your cheek and before you knew it, he was kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but filled with so much passion and longing that it stole your breath away. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The world outside the library faded into a distant memory, and for a moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours.

He pulled away for only a moment, his eyes searching your face, looking for permission to continue. You nodded, your eyes brimming with unshed tears of joy. San leaned back in, his lips meeting yours again in a kiss that spoke of a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

The kiss grew more intense, and you felt your knees tremble. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, and the reality was so much better than any fantasy. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The scent of his cologne, something you had secretly come to adore, filled your senses, and you knew you never wanted to be anywhere else.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling his hands slide down to your waist as the kiss deepened. His fingers traced the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve. San's eyes searched yours, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

"Sir," you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. "W-We're still in the library-"

"And it's empty, right? No one's around," San murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. He took another step closer, his body now pressed against yours, leaving no room for doubt or fear. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it might just burst.

He lifted you up without effort, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to a quiet, secluded corner of the library. The soft cushions of an old armchair were a welcome relief as he set you down, his hands never leaving your body. San's gaze was filled with desire, yet tinged with caution.

He started kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body before grabbing your skirt and lifting it. You felt the cold chair against your bare skin and shivered from the excitement. You didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted him.

San's hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of your panties. You gasped, your eyes snapping open. The reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower. "W-What are we doing?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled back, his gaze searching yours. "I couldn't help myself. If we do this," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "we can't take it back."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his words. Your mind raced with the consequences, but your body craved his touch. "I know," you murmured, nodding slightly. "But I don't want to take it back."

San studied your face, his eyes filled with a mix of want and hesitation. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in and claimed your mouth again, his hand moving to cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping you. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and his hand moved to caress the soft skin, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt a warm wetness spread between your legs.

You reached your hand as far as you could, tugging at his belt and the buttons of his pants. San's hand moved from your waist to your wrist, stopping you gently. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged. "Let me."

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed your skirt higher and slid your panties aside. His touch was featherlight, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he kissed and licked at your inner thighs. You whimpered, the anticipation driving you wild.

Finally, his mouth found your center, and you gasped as he took you in. San's tongue danced over your sensitive flesh, tasting and teasing you until you thought you would lose your mind. Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles white from the effort of not pushing him away.

"O-Oh my god, San-" you breathed his name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You felt your core clench around nothing, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before. His movements grew more deliberate, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

His hands caressing your thighs, his eyes remained locked on yours, watching the play of emotions across your face as he worked his magic. You squirmed, unable to hold back the moans that bubbled up from deep within your chest. The warmth of his breath and the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot had you teetering on the edge of a cliff, desperately craving release.

"Mmmh!" you gasped as San's tongue worked its way inside of you, stroking you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. Your legs tightened around him, and you threw your head back, unable to control the sounds escaping your mouth. The pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt, and you knew you were close to climaxing.

"I-I'm close," you tug at his hair, making sure to avoid his glasses. "Right there, fuck!" You didn't know how to be quiet, the pleasure was too intense. San's eyes flashed with something primal and he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver.

With a final flick of his tongue and a suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm crash over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you rode the peak. You clung to the chair, your nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure washed over you in waves. San didn't stop, instead, he kept licking and kissing until you were panting and begging for mercy.

"Please," you gasped, your voice hoarse. "I can't-"

"One more," San murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he slid a finger inside of you, curling it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. The sensation was exquisite, and you could feel yourself climbing again, your muscles tightening around his digit. He watched you, his eyes hooded and focused, as he brought you closer to the brink once more.

With a final, deep thrust of his finger, you came again, your body shaking and quivering as the orgasm ripped through you. San sat back on his haunches, his face flushed with arousal as he took in the sight of you, sprawled out on the chair, panting and glowing.

"W-Where'd you learn to do-" you pause, pointing below. "…That…"

San's eyes crinkled at the corners with a hint of amusement. "Sweetie, I'm ten years older than you." he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I've had time to learn a few things." He leaned in, kissing you gently before sitting up.

He undoes his tie with swift, practiced movements, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You feel your heart race faster, his words a sweet aphrodisiac.

"Forget what I said earlier about staying professional." he almost growled, fiddling with his belt now. "I could give you everything you need."

You nodded, feeling your own need pulsing through your veins. "But we should be quick," you managed to say, though your voice was thick with lust. "Someone could come in."

"Then you're going to have to stay quiet," San warned with a smoldering look, his eyes dark with desire. He stood up, his pants now unbuttoned, revealing his erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening.

He pushed his boxers down just enough for his cock to come out, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of him. San was well endowed, and the way his cock stood proudly before you was incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, and you reached out tentatively to touch him.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so big," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. "And so…strong."

San's hand covered yours, guiding you in a gentle stroking motion. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll be gentle."

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. He stepped closer, his cock now brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness. He moves it toward your entrance, and you grip the armrests of the chair tightly, bracing yourself.

"Ready?" San asked, his voice a low growl. You nodded, unable to speak as he pushed into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You felt a slight burn, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He was so much larger than anyone you've been with before, and it was a bit terrifying but mostly exhilarating.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. You let out a soft whimper, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The gentle gesture helped to ease the tension in your body, and you started to relax into the sensation.

"You feel amazing." San whispered against your lips, his eyes searching yours as he began to move his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he filled you completely. His movements grew stronger, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

The sound of the chair creaking under the weight of your passion filled the quiet library, the only other noise the muffled sounds of your breathing and the occasional soft whine that slipped from your mouth. San's grip on your hips tightened, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the moment.

"F-Fuck-" you try your best to stay quiet, but it's getting increasingly difficult as San's hips piston into you. The chair squeaks underneath you, and the thought of getting caught is almost too much to handle. You lean back, arching your back, giving him deeper access. San's eyes never leave yours, his strokes becoming more and more demanding as he chases his own release.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The added sensation was too much, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm began to build once more. San's eyes widened at the sight of you, lost in pleasure, and he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent.

"Fuck, I love you," you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden. San's eyes flash with something akin to surprise, and then his expression softens.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. His thrusts become more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he drives you closer to the edge. You feel your body tightening around him, and you know you're about to come again.

"I-I can't-" you whimpered, your voice strained as your second orgasm built up. "Too much-" San's eyes never left yours, his movements becoming more erratic as he felt your muscles tighten around him. You felt his cock swell inside you, and he groaned against your neck.

With one final, deep thrust, San came, his warmth filling you completely. He stilled, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps. You felt your own climax peak and crash over you, your body quivering in his arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the beating of your hearts.

San leaned in and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips. "I didn't mean to go that far. I really just…couldn't help myself."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "I didn't either."

"You're, uh, on birth control right?" San's voice was filled with concern, breaking the momentary silence.

The reality of the situation washed over you, and you nodded. "Yes, I am."

San let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth of him leave you and immediately missed the connection. He bent down and kissed you softly before helping you to stand, adjusting your clothing with gentle hands.

"You, um, really love me?" San's voice was a mix of shock and hope. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. The question was a knife to your heart, but you couldn't lie, not now.

"Yeah," you whispered, the truth finally out in the open. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't anymore."

San's eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed happily. "You're adorable." He kissed you again, a smile playing on his lips. "But we have to be careful." He pulled away, looking around the library, reminding you of the precarious situation you were in.

"Whatever, old guy." You playfully punched his arm, trying to lighten the mood. San chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.