#is perfectly reasonable given the circumstances

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[ace-and-ranty]

Sidenote about the “cheating” thing, that goddamn Goodreads reviewer who called it a cheating plot had me worried for MONTHS that Naomi was gonna go down a “cheating bisexual” route. I cannot believe it. I was so goddamn worried. Un-fucking-belieavable. 

[tomwambsganshater]

Vinland saga gets a lot of criticism for being unrealistic and too naive in its pacifism but I feel like that's a fundamental misunderstanding of thorfinn's character. His ideology isn't supposed to be universal, he develops it because of his circumstances, he's killed too many people and inflicted too much misery to be able to stomach any more of it, to the point that defending himself disgusts him. It's not a method to live your life or to change the world, it's his specific emotional reaction to his experiences. He's not even preachy about it either, when he meets Canute he admits that he knows he can't change the world that way, and that he can't judge whether Canute's way is right or wrong. His vinland plan is an attempt to create a society from scratch based on his radical pacifism in hopes that it'll meaningfully stick and become a value for the next generations, and thus create a society where it's the norm, but as we can see in the story and just history, it's going to fail. I don't know how exactly it's going to end, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to be by telling the reader that "You should be a pacifist all the time and violence is never justified". The story's always been nuanced, Thorfinn himself is just incapable of stomaching it.

[tedoculus]

When you watch a movie in 2016 about a complicated emotionally abusive father and you related so strongly to the son who hated him so much he didn't want to go to his funeral and then you rewatch it again in 2023 and you lost all memory of who or how you related to the movie on the first watching and this time you're relating to the grief, loneliness, and financial destitution of the father and you simultaneously forgive your own father and dead step father

[moonfurthetemmie]

Moonfur!

I made this :)

Haha. Been emotional neglected until slash. Even if she was to hurt. She would tend wound even if it's for her own amusement and entertainment. She is gentle like a real parent

:((

Poor kid

[neraiutsuze]

“It was much better to imagine men in some smokey room somewhere, made mad and cynical by privilege and power, plotting over brandy. You had to cling to this sort of image, because if you didn't then you might have to face the fact that bad things happened because ordinary people, the kind who brushed the dog and told the children bed time stories, were capable of then going out and doing horrible things to other ordinary people. It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault. If it was Us, then what did that make Me? After all, I'm one of Us. I must be. I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No one ever thinks of themselves as one of Them. We're always one of Us. It's Them that do the bad things.”

― Terry Pratchett, Jingo

i wish ppl on this website, and within leftist circles in general, were a little less gung ho about making jokes or statements like "billionaires arent people" "nazis arent people" "police arent people"

there is no level of evil where a human stops being a human. if you decide to kill them for their crimes, then you are killing a human. and sometimes that is justified! oil execs and war profiteers have destroyed countless lives in service of their own sick greed, and given the chance to enact that same violence on them, id probably pop their heads like a pimple.

but it is important that we do not shy away from the reality of that choice. it is a human life that is being ended. a person with interiority, feelings, family.

if we stop considering any group as people, even a group defined by their own evil actions, then we are drawing a line to divide society into persons and non-persons, and stating that those non-persons do not deserve to live.

i hope i dont need to explain why that is a dangerous position to take.

these people and all of their evil, their greed, their hatred, are just as much a part of humanity as art, culture, language, food. they are a part of us that has grown malignant and cancerous, and like a cancer, they must be excised for the sake of the whole--but they are still a part of us, made of the same stuff as us, down to their cores.

evil humans are still humans.

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

[steakbones]

morpheus serving those daydreamer laby vibes yes king!!! live in a comfortable delusion instead of facing the harsh reality of the world!!

[sepiamestus]

This applies to non white characters too. Btw

honestly if you think the main female character of any show is annoying im going to need a list of at least ten cited reasons why and if any of those reasons piss me off i'll pull a lever and drop you in a pit of snakes

[lookingforhappy]

all the people saying stuff abt the deli being fives name

i dont think its his name, but i also think its a missed opportunity to do something fun

like. fives name has been a tua mystery since day 1, why doesnt he have a name, was it his choice, if so why stick to five, how were the others given names and is that why five didnt get one etc etc

and none of those questions have been answered within the show (they have been answered outside of it but the statements of the creators often conflict with whats actually seen in the show.. so not reliable info basically). so there is an opportunity here to do what we did with ben in s3 - show how much five changes across timelines.

and in one sense, they could be making a statement here. five, unlike ben, is commanded more by nature than nurture. he always ends up the same regardless of his circumstances.

but given the general lack of care seen this season i generally think that the deli and the fives are more so a display of a lack of attention. the reason they all wear the same suit and have the same hairstyle, and are all the same age with the same appearance, its the same reason five doesnt change outfits after 7 years in the subway. the creators didnt care.

so i think that this would have been a really interesting opportunity to explore who five could have been. bring back old five, show us apocalypse five, toddler five with older fives looking after them, fives who got to have a family of their own and fives who were never a part of reginald's adopted children at all. irish fives and american fives, maybe even jewish fives if we follow aidan's faith/ethnicity (?).

we could have seen fives at different stages, fives from s1 and s2 and s3. we could have seen how five from the phoenix academy could butt heads with five from the umbrella academy over whose siblings deserve to live more. we could have seen founder five, missing arm and all, before he founds the commission. five from the comics could have made a cameo.

we could have had fives with different names. fives who grew up in the academy and did choose names. fives who were named by their birth mother. max could have been a five name, along with a thousand other names, and it could have shown that fives name isnt about him needing a name but instead how his family has affected him and how he sees himself.

instead we got.. basically nothing

this post is not about brisket five hes perfectly wonderful as is

[eloise175]

I love these panels so much, I’m never getting over them not only because of how beautiful they are, but also due to their meaning and how it perfectly shows the characters' feelings.

It’s the part where Penelope tells Callisto she doesn’t love him and his face crumbles, he’s so taken aback by it but for all the wrong reasons, let me elaborate;

(contains some novel spoilers!!)

From the beginning, Callisto knew that Penelope’s confession about how she fell in love with him at first sight was bullshit.

He knows she lied to him on multiple occasions but doesn’t mind at all; it’s stated later on in his pov that despite all the rumors and her deception, Callisto too found it surprising how he didn't get angry.

They also had this conversation in the cave and many other occasions when he teased her about it and she kept on saying that she wasn’t in love with him anymore.

However each time Penelope claimed to not be in love with him, Callisto was either amused or grumbled about it playfully.

It’s the setting that changes things. Back then it was all teasing and her getting fed up with him and his successful attempts at eliciting some sort of reaction out of her.

As the story progresses, their interactions become more tense due to the friction and tension being products of their feelings for one another.

We can see the first signs of Callisto ‘wavering’ during his birthday banquet as Penelope is about to reject him.

He looked crestfallen when she brought up love because he still can’t make sense of it, convinced that his feelings of fondness can’t be related to love—or more like, he’s trying to convince himself it’s like that.

Knowing what is about to come, he shushed her, while admitting to the fact that he knew she was going to reject him, hence why he told her to give him an answer on her coming of age.

It’s all because Callisto hoped she would change her mind and her answer would be the one he hoped for, basically her accepting.

Then in the greenhouse things become more serious. The talk about Penelope’s condition had an impact on the build-up of it.

Penelope is completely serious and firm about her rejection, she is more apathetic due to the impending deadline of hard mode’s ending and things falling apart continuously.

She doesn’t have any control of the things happening around her and it makes her grow more and more anxious, to the point where it all becomes too much and it leads her to resign to her fate.

Callisto’s reaction to it is so strong not only because Penelope kept on pushing him towards another woman (which he doesn’t even know) when all he wanted was to be with her, but because she disregarded his feelings in the process as well.

Penelope goes on to say that she doesn’t love him, and that’s the real nail in the coffin, Callisto is actually in love with her but fails to realize it, but his subconscious seems to be aware of it given his reaction.

It’s a “…she doesn’t love me?” slap in the face realization.

I’m saying this because later in the novel, Callisto reveals that he hid his desire to be with Penelope behind the guise of an arranged marriage because he was afraid to admit being in love with her due to what happened to his parents. You could say he has always loved her from the moment they first met.

➺ chapter. 201 from the novel:

Anyhow, Penelope talks about her circumstances and past, saying how while wanting love she also needs and wants someone to take her out of the hell she’s in.

She tells Callisto he’s not that person and he’s absolutely devastated by that statement. He even gets described as dazed in the novel when this scene happens.

It’s a point of no return for Callisto because he still refuses to acknowledge his feelings as love for Penelope.

He can’t have her unless he admits to loving her, but he’s afraid to do so due to his past, he's convinced that if he confesses then she would end up like his mother.

Callisto needs a push, and that push is the fear of losing her forever which comes in the form of Penelope’s poisoning on her coming of age ceremony.

It all boils down to “don’t make any assumptions about my feelings” and “you don’t know what/how I feel” but we don’t get that since Callisto is suppressing it.

He’s angry and rightfully so and Penelope’s earlier apparent indifference doesn’t help either.

But yes, Penelope’s rejection hurt him so much because loves her.

Callisto is conflicted and in denial. It’s like he’s already having an inner battle about his feelings and then Penelope comes and deals the final blow, stomping all over his heart while pushing him away.

"I chose you, Penelope Eckhart. Not your household." and “Does my proposal mean so little to you?” are so telling because it’s clear that he’s been strongly impacted by all of this.

Callisto genuinely wants to be with Penelope and get her to the safety of the palace but went about it the wrong way.

They’re so miscommunication, it will be so long before they get to talk properly about their feeling and we get that love confession I’m not okay T_T

Thinking about all the things that will happen before that is making my head hurt, I’m going back to reading my comfort fanfics…see y’all tomorrow when the beginning of the end begins with more yearning and angst as Callisto will come back :,)

[chilschuck]

ougghh these past few days i cant get this thought out of my head;;;; chilchuck with a tall-man clingy reader who's just wrapped around him at all times...

whenever the party takes a quick rest from walking they instantly have their arms around him. they r very short despite being a tall-man (lost the genetic lottery 😔 def not projecting) but still conveniently tall enough to comfortably lean their chin on top of his head

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS WAS SO CUTE ANON!!! i feel that so bad, it’s hard being short out here. :”)) i loved coming up with ideas for this, as i know i’d definitely be that way with him if given the chance!!!

— CHILCHUCK: x clingy tall-man!reader

꒰ warnings: ꒱ gn!reader and sfw as always! super fluffy <33

꒰ wc: ꒱ 528

✦ i hope this is okay!! like always i had so much fun writing it!! enjoy!! <33

✦ This first started when you found out just how warm the half-foot was. You were struggling to fight off the cold one night and had noticed how delighted Izutsumi had been when she held him. Curiosity getting the better of you, you shyly asked if you could put your bedroll closer to his. Unsurprisingly to anyone in the party, you ended up with him in your arms that night.

✦ Soon enough, snuggling up beside him at night turned to you leaning into him whenever the party took a moment to rest. This grew into more of an embrace, which finally ended in you fully wrapping yourself around him every chance you got. Chilchuck wasn’t a fan of public affection, but for some reason, that soft spot he held for you let it slide. After all, it’s not like it was completely unwelcome…

✦ You weren’t very tall for, well, a tall-man, which meant you often rested your head on top of Chilchuck’s when you could. Pulling him into your arms and wrapping them around his waist, you nuzzled into the back of his neck and perched your chin atop his head often. This caused the half-foot’s cheeks to flush violently the first time you did it, but over time he’s gotten more and more used to the action.

— “Alright, we’ll take a break here and make something to eat.” Laios announced, the party breathing a sigh of relief at the chance to take a moment of rest. You immediately sought out Chilchuck, standing in front of him with your arms extended towards him. He let out a sigh, scratching the back of his head to disguise the heat rising in his cheeks. “C’mere…” He grumbled, hiding how his heart skipped a beat at your elated expression.

You sighed at having him in your arms, resting your head on his shoulder as his back was flush against your chest. He’d never admit it, but he had started to look forward to these little moments with you…

✦ Marcille couldn’t help but squeal with delight whenever she saw you hold him close, teasing Chil about how hard he had avoided forming a relationship. This would result in him barking out excuses about how you just used him for warmth, it wasn’t like that!! (Except it was, and everyone in the party was privy to the budding relationship between you two.)

✦ Especially when you noticed when Chil was exhausted, he’d wordlessly plop his head down into your lap, curling up into your side. He could be a bit clingy himself, given the right circumstances… Pet his head and run your fingers through his hair to practically hear him purr. (And to have him completely pass out.)

✦ Chilchuck began leaving room for you beside him, or even behind him, whether it was in his bedroll or when the party was taking a moment of reprieve. It became a common occurrence that there was a perfectly you-shaped space anywhere around him. Maybe soon he’d confess how he really feels, which we all know would only bring on more of the affection. (Which he couldn’t say he’d be disappointed in.)

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[year2000electronics]

does anyone have any thoughts or headcanons on how bill got his powers? i sure do!

in my mind, the euclydian massacre almost worked like how dropping experience might work in a video game. to use an example, im thinking of slither.io, where if you die, you leave these glowing orbs that other players around you collect to grow themselves.

(shoutout to that one bill cipher rp account on twitter who made exactly one in character post and then just kept posting his slither.io scores.)

so for bill to not only have killed EVERYONE in euclydia, but also literally destroy an entire DIMENSION and reduce it to an atom, that must have given him EXPONENTIAL power. that's how it works in my mind, anyways- it's a tradeoff. he lost everything he was to become who he is.

but that begs the question, why is bill considered a "dream demon"? destroying euclydia and haunting peoples' dreams have nothing in common. well, i think i have my answer, in that it's not necessarily bill himself that takes on these "dream demon" qualities, but it's because of his circumstance.

see, the realm he immediately hops into after he destroys euclydia is the nightmare realm! one described as being "in-between dimensions" and a place where "the physics work different" (all made clear in the book of bill). of course bill would be able to slide into that realm as this uber-powerful 2d being who entered a very 3d world.

but then you get to "our" universe, and the planet earth, which is an entirely 3d plane made of 3d beings. the concept of 2d exists for us, and it's demonstrably not something where alive beings can live or even move. so, in my mind, bill can't just "pop in" to our world. he needs a rip in space-time, exploding weirdness from the nightmare realm that makes the laws of physics just bendy enough so that he can manifest himself in there no problem. but if earth is 3d and he can't access it, how is he supposed to make that portal?

easy. what's a "world" where the laws of physics don't exist in our world? the world of our minds and dreams! our imaginations don't obey the laws of physics. one person might be able to "perfectly visualize" something in a 3d plane, but another might have aphantasia so can only read words in a book and understand them. and that's not even beginning to take dreams into account, who follow NO rules because theyre subconscious thoughts haphazardly stitched together!

tldr bill can exist in the mindscape because it's not a "3d plane" that obeys the laws of physics, and the reason he's known as a "dream demon" isn't because he has a particular affinity for dreams, but instead because that's the only place in our world he can appear! thats my headcanon for it anyways

[wellofdean]

I've been reading lots of commentary on my dash about Dean's apology to Cas in The Trap that is, in a sense, re-litigating who is most to blame for their rupture, and who should be apologising.

On the one side, Cas, whose drive to protect and save the ones he loves leads him to go it alone and keep vital information from them, and on the other, Dean, whose anger, however justified, makes him cold, hard and uncompromising. Cas, who left, or Dean, who didn't ask him to stay. And, I think: can't they both be in error and standing in need of compassion? Is love a thing to be earned and deserved, or is it like grace, which is free and unmerited and complete forgiveness?

For me, these are two characters who are under tremendous pressure and in repeated dire circumstances, and who have given each other that kind of grace over and over and over again for years, and who have chosen each other every time a choice was there to be made. In the The Rupture, Dean is too angry to make talking about it viable (and I am not blaming him, he has his perfectly valid reasons! But, that's a fact) and Cas is too offended, hurt, and too proud to stay and bear Dean's anger, so he leaves.

A few episodes later, in Golden Time, Cas is told Chuck is back and is reminded of what they are fighting for, and who they are fighting against, and realises that his place is in that fight, at their side, whatever Dean's feelings, and that he has to go back. But, the tension remains -- Dean is angry, Cas is aloof. They go to hell. Rowena says "fix it" and reminds them that they don't have time to waste on grievances, and then Michael says "Since when do we get what we deserve?" And looks them both in the eye. Then, they go to Purgatory.

What happens in The Trap, for me, is that Dean, thinking he has lost Cas, looks into his own heart knows that his anger kept them apart, and he gives Cas grace and forgivenes, because he loves Cas too much not to and it doesn't matter if Dean has a right to his anger, or what anyone deserves, because the apology is to satisfy his own soul, and his own need to be better. I don't think it matters who is right and who is wrong. I think they are both right, and they are both wrong. Cas did apologise, and Dean was too angry to let him, Cas coming back to bear that anger and help is a capitulation and an effort to do what is right.

I love that Dean forgives Cas before Cas can earn it with his 'win', and don't think it's a matter of anyone deserving anything. Dean's very nature is love and goodness, and the constant striving to act on it; his anger works against those things. There is no basis for them to talk about what ails them if he can't let it go. Dean knows it's doing him damage, and he apologises for it. His conscience demands it, and grace cannot be a thing that is owed.

I love that scene, I love that Jensen acts his heart out in that scene, and I think that scene is about Dean's heart, and not about anyone's culpability. Both of them are so broken down by their losses and have such brutal histories of trauma, and that's why they are both falling back on habits that don't serve them. Cas came back, Dean gave up his anger. Do the problems still exist? Absolutely. But nothing is served by being apart and angry.

[miabbh]

Pineapple Slice 🍍

Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: Following one of the latest dating trend has given you a story to tell: you crashed your shopping cart into the funniest and most charming man in the wine section, with which you ended the night sharing the pineapple that led you to this circumstance. Blessed are the pineapples!

(Immensely inspired by the Mercadona's matchmaking trend)

Genre: comedy & a tiny bit of thriller

You never imagined that your evening would involve grocery shopping with a hint of romantic intrigue, but here you are, in the fluorescent-lit aisles of Mercadona, holding an upside-down pineapple like it's a VIP ticket to a secret club. This is no ordinary pineapple, though. Oh no, this prickly fruit is your entry pass to a new and oddly specific trend: the supermarket matchmaking ritual. 

You'd heard the rumors, of course. It started as a whisper—something you caught on the lips of giggling friends or saw scrolling past your social media feed: "Mercadona matchmaking—just flip a pineapple upside down, and let destiny (or the shopping carts) do the rest." It sounded too ridiculous to be true, yet here you are, pulled in by the intrigue and the faint hope that this bizarre trend might lead to something unexpected.

It’s nearly eight. The night fell over the city, and the supermarket is buzzing with the usual after-work crowd. The familiar hum of chatter, the clattering of carts, and the soft overhead music blend together into a soothing backdrop as you roll your cart down the aisles. Nestled among the other groceries, your pineapple sits prominently in the cart, its spiky crown pointing defiantly downward. You feel a twinge of self-consciousness as you catch the curious glances of a few fellow shoppers, but even more of the discreet employees, who have probably seen this happening for weeks. 

You find yourself glancing around, wondering who else might be in on this odd tradition. A young woman nearby is examining avocados with intense focus, and you wonder if she, too, has a pineapple hidden somewhere in her cart.

The wine aisle, you’ve heard, is the designated meeting point for those participating in this quirky matchmaking ritual. You weave through the aisles with practiced efficiency, grabbing a few essentials along the way, all the while hyper-aware of the pineapple in your cart.

Finally, you turn the corner and find yourself facing the long stretch of wine racks. It’s still early, but there’s already a small gathering of carts lined up along the aisle, not not all of them with a pineapple. Frankly, just a middle-aged man, but it was lying on top of the bread packs.

You thought about turning around and leaving, but curiosity didn't allow it. You took a few steps forward, passing by the different brands of beer.

And then you see him.

He’s standing a few feet away, studying a bottle of red wine with the kind of concentration that suggests he’s either deeply interested in the vintage or just trying very hard to look like he isn’t here for the same reason you are. His cart is just beside him, with a perfectly placed upside-down pineapple perched on it. The sight of it brings a rush of relief and excitement—proof that you’re not the only one taking this odd experiment seriously.

You feel a little jolt of excitement, mixed with the tiniest bit of nervousness. After all, this whole thing is pretty unconventional. But as you watch him, you notice something else: He’s cute. Really cute. He has this boyish charm about him, with dark hair that falls just slightly into his eyes and there’s a playful energy about him, as if he’s someone who doesn’t take life too seriously. You can’t tell if it’s his relaxed stance or the way he drums his fingers against the wine bottle, but something about him immediately puts you at ease.

Taking a deep breath, you steer your cart closer, the wheels squeaking slightly as you approach. There’s an instant where you hesitate—what if this whole thing is just some kind of elaborate joke?—but then your cart bumps gently against his, and there’s no turning back now.

He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and amusement. For a moment, there’s silence—neither of you speaks, but the silence isn’t awkward. It’s more like the two of you are savoring the moment, enjoying the ridiculousness of it all.

"Looks like we've both been caught in the pineapple conspiracy…" he says, breaking the ice with a warm, teasing smile.

You laugh, the tension melting away as you mirror his playful tone. 

"I guess we have. I wasn’t sure if this would actually work, but here we are."

"I wasn’t sure either." he admits, setting the wine bottle back on the shelf and leaning casually on his cart. “But here we are. I’m Baekhyun, by the way.”

"Nice to meet you, Baekhyun." you reply, trying to match his easygoing vibe and giving him your name.

He smiles, repeating it as he nods. 

“So,” he says, glancing back at the wine selection. “Do you know anything about wine, or are you just as clueless as I am?”

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to ponder the question. 

“Well, I know it comes in red, white, and pink. That’s a start, right?” you say.

He laughs, and the sound is infectious. 

“Impressive. I usually just go by what has the coolest label.”

You share a conspiratorial smile, as though you’ve known each other much longer than the five minutes you’ve actually been talking. It’s easy, this banter, and you feel a surprising amount of chemistry sparking between you.

“So, what do you say we pick something based purely on the label’s artistic merit?” you suggest, half-serious.

Baekhyun nods, stepping closer to the wine display.

“Let’s do it. I mean, that’s as good a method as any, right?” he chuckles.

You both start scanning the rows of bottles, making lighthearted comments about the various labels—some elegant, some quirky, and some just plain bizarre. Your carts are still nudged together, the pineapples sitting in silent companionship as you and Baekhyun exchange playful remarks and the occasional brush of shoulders. It’s a bit surreal, how quickly you’ve settled into this comfortable rhythm with a total stranger, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

At one point, Baekhyun picks up a bottle with a particularly eye-catching label—an explosion of swirling colors that look like they were inspired by a psychedelic dream. He holds it up for you to inspect, his grin wide.

“This one.” he declares. “It’s bold, it’s colorful, and it looks like the kind of wine that would make a Saturday night way more interesting.”

You tilt your head, pretending to scrutinize the bottle with a critical eye. “It’s definitely eye-catching. And it would be a shame not to reward the winemaker’s creativity.”

He chuckles, tossing the bottle into his cart. “Exactly. Plus, if it turns out to taste terrible, at least we’ll have a good story to tell.”

Your smile widens as you realize just how much you’re enjoying this—how easily Baekhyun’s playful nature draws you in. There’s something about the way he engages with you, with just the right mix of humor and sincerity, that makes you want to keep the conversation going, to see where this chemistry might lead.

With your chosen bottle in hand, the two of you navigate back toward the front of the store, continuing your light-hearted banter. You learn that Baekhyun has a mischievous sense of humor, a penchant for spontaneous adventures, and a surprising amount of knowledge about the post bed time conspiracy documentaries, which he claims is purely for the sake of keeping up with the imagination and creativity of those who produce them (though you suspect he might secretly enjoy it). 

“So,” he asks as you walk down the fruit aisle, on the way to the checkout lanes. “What's the plan after this? You have any pressing pineapple-related obligations, or are you free to share this artistic wine with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes that suggests he’s genuinely excited about the possibility of spending more time with you. There’s an underlying excitement in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat! And truth be told, you feel the same. The invitation is casual, but the potential behind it is anything but.

“In fact, I can't even eat fresh pineapple like that. My stomach is sensitive to the acidity. I only eat canned pineapple…” you reply with a shy smile, putting the pineapple back in place. 

Baekhyun’s brows furrow in concern for a moment before his expression shifts to determination.

“Well, that won’t do. You deserve to enjoy your pineapple without any discomfort.”

Before you can respond, he’s already striding towards the canned fruit displayed on the other side of the aisle, purposefully scanning the shelves. He quickly finds a can of pineapple slices, holding it up triumphantly. 

“There we go.”

“You really didn’t have to do that.” You laugh, touched by the gesture. 

He grins, tossing the can into your cart. “It’s no trouble at all. Besides, I want to make sure you enjoy every bite.”

The cashier rings up your items, trying not to smile. It's definitely a joke to them. They certainly laugh at every person who passes by with a cart with a pineapple. Fair enough, though. You would probably find favor in the subjection of the romantically stranded to these strange circumstances if you weren't part of them…

As you bag your groceries, Baekhyun turns to you with a conspiratorial smile.

With your groceries in hand, you and Baekhyun make your way out of the store and into the cool evening air. There’s an almost electric feeling in the air between you—an unspoken acknowledgment that this night could be the start of something special.

“Shall we?” Baekhyun asks, gesturing toward the parking lot where his car is parked a few spaces away from yours.

You nod, falling into step beside him, your hands brushing slightly as you walk. The conversation flows easily, filled with teasing remarks and genuine curiosity about each other’s lives. It’s almost surreal how quickly you’ve settled into this comfortable rhythm, as if you’ve known each other much longer than the hour it’s actually been.

Baekhyun’s charm is infectious, and you find yourself laughing more than you have in a long time. Ah, if he at least made it easy, with that smile at the side of his mouth…

When you reach his car, Baekhyun pauses, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. 

“So, do you believe in fate? Or do you think this was just a well-timed coincidence?”

You consider the question for a moment, then smile.

“Maybe a little bit of both.” You say thoughtful. “I mean, what are the odds of two people meeting over upside-down pineapples in a supermarket? It’s too strange not to have some kind of cosmic influence, right?”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. “I like that answer. It’s just the right amount of romantic without being too over-the-top.”

There’s a brief pause, the air between you charged with the possibilities of the night ahead. You can feel the pull of attraction, the unspoken promise of where this might lead.

“So…” you ask, your voice tinged with both excitement and a hint of nervousness.

Baekhyun’s smile is warm and inviting as he holds up the bottle of wine. “How about we find a nice spot, crack this open, and see where the night takes us?”

You meet his gaze, feeling the thrill of the unexpected, and nod. “That sounds perfect.”

As you both look at each other, the scene subtly shifts. The parking lot, which moments ago felt like just another part of your ordinary world, begins to take on an almost cinematic quality. The streetlights above cast a soft, warm glow, and the city sounds seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you and the quiet, shared anticipation.

Baekhyun stops beside his car and turns to you with a grin that’s half-playful, half-serious. 

“This is where I’d offer you a ride, but that might be a bit too cliché, even for us.”, he says.

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Who said clichés were a bad thing?”

“Fair point.” he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I think I’ll walk you to your car instead. A gentlemanly gesture, if you will.”

As you reach your car, there’s a lingering pause, the moment hanging in the air with a kind of expectant magic. Baekhyun leans against your car, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Tonight was fun.” he says softly, almost as if he’s not quite ready to say goodbye just yet.

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. You weren't too.

“Yeah, it was. And who knows? Maybe this is just the beginning.” You dared.

“Actually,” he says slowly, pointing at your bag. “Why wait until later? We have the can right here.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, following his finger.

“You want to eat pineapple slices in the parking lot?”

He nods, already reaching into his pocket for his keys to pop the can open. 

“Why not? It’s a warm night, and we’re not in any rush, are we?” He smiles softly, asking for permission. 

You can deny his pretty eyes hidden in that dark brown hair.  What a situation! It will have to be kept very well, or perhaps it will be a story that your friends have never kept quiet about.

You nod, opening the bag and giving him the can.

Before you can think twice, the weight on your hand is relieved as he’s already opened the can and is fishing out a slice of pineapple with his fingers. He holds it up with a playful smile, the juice dripping slightly as he offers it to you.

“Here.” he says, his voice soft, almost teasing. “A little taste test.”

You hesitate for just a second before leaning in, your lips brushing against the cool, sweet pineapple. His fingers lightly touch your mouth as you take a bite, and the intimate gesture sends a shiver down your spine.

Baekhyun’s eyes darken just a bit as he watches you, the playfulness in his gaze shifting into something deeper, more intense. He brings the rest of the slice to his own mouth, finishing it off before wiping the juice from his fingers.

“Good?” he asks, his voice a little lower now, the closeness between you feeling more charged than ever. "Extra sweet?"

You nod, swallowing the sweetness of the pineapple, but it's the way he’s looking at you that really leaves you breathless.

“Very.”

He grins, but there’s a softness in his expression, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. 

You both pull back just slightly, the slice gone, but neither of you moves away. His hand is still raised, fingers hovering near your lips as if he’s debating whether to close the gap entirely.

“Pineapple in the parking lot,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Who would’ve thought it’d be this… fun?”

You smile, your heart racing as you meet his eyes, the flirtation between you now unmistakable. 

“I guess you make everything more interesting.”

His lips curve into a slow smile, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. 

Then, just as he leans in a bit more, the scene abruptly shifts. Without warning, a group of figures emerges from behind the parked cars, their movements eerily synchronized. Their faces are obscured by grotesque, animalistic masks—warped and twisted, like something out of a nightmare. The masks glint under the dim streetlights, and the air seems to thicken with a suffocating sense of dread.

A cold shiver races down your spine as they close in, their laughter echoing through the parking lot—dark, mocking, and full of menace. The sound is so jarring it feels like it’s digging into your skin. You glance at Baekhyun, searching for reassurance, but the look in his eyes stops you cold. There’s no trace of the playful warmth from moments ago; instead, his gaze is filled with something that chills you to the bone—an unspoken farewell.

You try to make sense of it, your heart hammering in your chest, but before you can speak, Baekhyun takes a sharp step back. His eyes lock onto yours for a brief, agonizing second—an apology and a warning all at once—before he turns and bolts, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

The masked figures, with their eyes fixed on their target, immediately give chase, their movements quickening as they pursue him with relentless determination.

The scene is chaotic and surreal. You stand frozen, heart pounding in your chest, as the group of masked figures races after Baekhyun, their footsteps echoing like a drumbeat of impending doom. Their cruel laughter fades into the distance, drowned out by the sound of their pursuit.

You’re frozen, caught between the urge to run after Baekhyun and the paralyzing fear. Your instincts scream at you to move, to help, but the terror that grips you leaves you rooted to the spot.

And then, the warm parking lot lighting shifts, transforming into the stark, bright glow of studio lights. The background blurs, and you hear the faintest hint of a director’s voice calling.

“Cut!”

You blink, disoriented for a moment, as the entire scene begins to dissolve. The bustling parking lot gives way to a filming set, complete with cameras, crew members, and all the trappings of a high-budget music video shoot.

Baekhyun walks back next to you, his laugh echoeing through the set. The masked men take off their masks, giving way to much more normal, smiling figures you know from some previous scenes.

“Looks like that’s a wrap for this scene!” he says, his voice still holding that teasing warmth, though now it’s accompanied by a knowing look that acknowledges the thin line between reality and performance.

You smile, slightly dazed as you realize what’s happened. It was all a setup—a beautifully orchestrated scene designed to capture the essence of a spontaneous, romantic encounter interrupted by a bit of terror. And all by his head!

But as the set dissolves around you, there’s still that lingering connection between you as the adrenaline runs through your veins, something that feels a little too real to be just another take.

“Good job, everyone!” The director calls out, clapping his hands as the crew begins to wrap up the scene. Baekhyun turns back to you, his eyes still sparkling with that same playful energy.

“Guess we fooled them, huh?” he says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing a secret just between the two of you.

You laugh, the sound a little more real, a little more genuine now that the cameras are no longer rolling.

“I guess we did. You’re quite the actor.”

Baekhyun shrugs, the easy charm still firmly in place. 

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s something to be said about real chemistry. What do you think?”

The question hangs in the air, both playful and slightly serious. As the crew begins to pack up, you realize that the scene may have ended, but the connection between you hasn’t. And as you step away from the set, Baekhyun beside you, you can’t help but wonder if this was just a scene—or if it’s the beginning of something more.

When you separated to enter your respective dressing rooms, Baekhyun calls you.

“The wine proposal is still standing.”

You chuckle as you look back, seeing him hanging on the stairs to the entrance of the white container. You nod.

“You can drive me, though." you tease. "Just please don't have any more crazy people chasing you!"

He laughs.

“As you wish!”

[ciciyup]

The Maid.

cw: nsfw, obscenity, cheating, blowjob, masturbation, dirty talk, slight overstimulation if you close your eyes, power imbalance.

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Standing on tiptoe you shake the shelf of the library that is quite high for your bad luck, at least this was better than cleaning in the kitchen. Being in the library was not so bad, it was quite quiet, you could work calmly without having to be rushed by the other servants or get so dirty. You stretch your arm a little further to get behind the shelf where there is a little dust and some cobwebs visible, your duster successfully catches them leaving the furniture cleaner than it seemed. You can feel a light scent of cologne flood your nostrils, you don't know it, but you know it is extremely expensive, a soft and pleasant aroma. You don't dare to turn around because you know that he is behind you, no word is said and his movements are as silent and fast as if he hadn't been there in the first place. Behind you he looks at your back and his eyes scan the worn maid uniform, did it look shorter today? Vincent smiles quietly to himself and the sound of his shoes hitting the finely decorated floor tiles can be heard all around the place. He carefully approaches the shelf you are cleaning on and places a red hardcover book along with the others following the pattern of books of the same size and color. His eyes observe you in detail, wanting to analyze you, his lips widen in a soft and reassuring smile, but the least you feel when you are near him is calm.

—Am I not interfering? —Vincent asks still looking at her with strangely kind eyes that do nothing but seem like he is hiding something. You quickly shake your head although you shake your head again this time with your voice not wanting to seem too rude to your master, after all he had given you a chance to work in his mansion, the least you could do was be polite.

—No, don't worry, Earl Phantomhive, I was just finishing up —you shake your head a couple more times before standing properly, your feet starting to hurt after standing on tiptoe for so long after cleaning that shelf.

—Excellent. You see, I need you to clean my desk in the office, it's a bit untidy underneath. Maybe after your main tasks —he asks, his soft voice echoing in your head.

—Of course, master —losing count of how many times you had already nodded, you do it again. You answer him obediently which makes him smile even more and now it's him who nods and then leaves.

You watch him leave with elegant steps, you observe his expensive suit and how well it looked on him, a perfectly ironed black suit without a single stain, you watch how he caresses his son's head affectionately before going up the stairs to return to his workplace and his son laughs jovially leaving by his side. For some reason ever since Vincent Phantomhive had hired you, after you had almost begged him with your words how difficult it was to find a job in your circumstances, as the days passed the tension between you was more than evident to anyone who paid attention, but most of the time it only came from him. Every time he was close he would very discreetly brush against you and he found a way to do it perfectly to end up apologizing as if it had been an accident or like when he watched you from afar while you were doing your chores, like that time at the family dinner when you had to help serve the dishes with other servants and when serving him his hand brushed your thigh or maybe the many times he spoke to you in a peculiar way that he didn't do with any other servant. You were aware that he had a family, two adorable children and a beautiful wife, but still your mind couldn't help but wander and imagine what it would feel like to touch his hands, they looked warm, kiss his seductive lips and other things that a lady shouldn't think about in those times. You push away any other thoughts before they get worse and decide to continue with your tasks. The bookshelf was already clean, the next thing that followed was… oh, yes, the kitchen.

When you knock on the door you can hear a “come in” from inside the room, with that signal you open the door and close it behind you, as you approach the desk you see Vincent sitting there reading some papers, you can’t understand what he says so you clear your throat before speaking and bowing slightly.

—Earl Phantomhive, I’ve come to clean your desk, I’m sorry for the inconvenience —you watch him and for a few moments his eyes don’t seem to leave his papers, but he seems to listen to you before turning to you and giving you a nod. Bending down to the level of the bottom of the desk, you notice the dust and small mold spots in some parts, sighing silently you grab a white cloth and begin to remove the stains, forced to go further into the back of the desk. You jump a little when you see Phantomhive's legs crossed in front of your face, his black, polished shoes make it so you can see part of your face in them, you try not to pay attention to that and continue with your work, you jump again when his legs separate and open a little revealing a not very marked bulge between his crotch, you swallow quickly and your body tenses when he says your name.

—Yes, master? —You turn to him and your head peeks out from under the desk as you look at him expectantly.

—There's dust on my clothes —His eyes look at you and then point to his pants, there were traces of dust on his thighs and legs, he seemed to have gotten a little dirty while you were shaking.

—I'm sorry, Earl Phantomhive, I... I clean it? —You ask with doubt and embarrassment in your tone of voice, which makes him raise an eyebrow and smile.

—Yes, clean it —he watches you carefully as you move closer under the desk until you reach his pants and carefully begin to wipe the dust with another clean cloth.

He seems amused, but you think the opposite, you are suffering an internal attack at this, but you decide to hide it with your modest facade. You finish slower than you thought and retreat from under the desk, straightening up you shake your uniform a little, removing the dust and dirt from the floor. You are picking up the cleaning supplies when he stops you dead in your tracks. Your name comes out of his lips again making your chest tighten.

—Come, come here —his voice seemed more melodious than usual, his eyes seem disturbing as he watches you from his seat.

—Yes, master? —standing in front of him you play with the tip of your uniform before looking at him again.

—I want you to do me a favor… I've been feeling quite overwhelmed with so much work, I need to relax, could you help me with that? —his eyes scan you as he leans his back against the chair.

—Do you need me to get you something? —you ask hesitantly. It's a stupid question, his eyes seem to want something more, it's always like that, it seemed like he was playing a game with you. Standing up, he takes a few steps towards you and looks at you with a charming smile.

—You're not silly, are you? —he asks, looking into her eyes, his smile widening even more.

—No, master —you deny murmuring, your gaze deviates for a moment, but remains with his.

—Then you know what I want —his voice suddenly rises at his words, he smiles when you nod. His hand runs along the bottom of your uniform and lifts it up a little before looking at you. You look back at him as you begin to squat down to unbutton his pants, carefully freeing his cock that seems to get bigger the more you touch him.

You hold him in your hands and pump him a little before caressing his tip with your fingertips, you stick your tongue out and lick around it, your hands carefully masturbating him while you suck on the tip, he tenses up even while standing and one hand rests against his desk. With more confidence you take as much of his cock as you can into your mouth sucking hard, your tongue makes small circles around the tip making him gasp and bring a hand to your hair caressing it. You spit a little to better prepare him, your head moves up and down with quick movements.

—T-that's enough —he stops you with a small low growl, as if it had been difficult for him to separate himself from the good moment. Grabbing your hand to stand you up and push you without so much force against the desk.

The tip of the furniture touches your stomach and you feel his hands on your back, shamelessly lifting the skirt of your uniform removing your panties and leaving them aside, he looks at your hungry and soaked pussy that seemed to clench with nothingness waiting for something. He takes two fingers gently caressing your clit and inner lips before inserting them one by one, moving his fingers in and out with ease. You gasp loudly at the feel of his long, warm fingers fucking your pussy. He plays with you, for a moment he is accommodating and then stops abruptly and goes heartbreakingly slow. You let out a moan of annoyance when he stops again and pulls his fingers out, stroking your clit a few more times to try and hold you back.

—You must be patient —he declares. Positioning himself behind you, he grabs his cock and runs it over your pussy letting it get covered in your juices, an obscene sound is heard when he enters and you feel like it could be heaven. His hands rest on your waist to guide his movements as he watches your pussy swallow his entire cock and your ass slam against his pelvis over and over again, a gasp leaving his lips at the sight as he begins to go at a faster pace. —Silence, do you want us to be discovered? Hm? —His tone of voice is more playful and he tries to silence you by squeezing his hands tighter against your waist when he hears your loud moan.

At this point it was inevitable, his cock was going in and out of you non-stop, his balls were hitting your clit, his hands were moving from touching your waist to touching your breasts carelessly, you felt like you were about to explode. What would happen if his sweet wife walked through the door and saw her husband with his cock buried deep in the maid's pussy? It would be a scandal.

—I'm going to fill you up, fuck, it must be lucky to have a little slut like you in my home. If you’re good, maybe I can use you again —he murmurs against your ear just before he releases his load and fills your walls with white.

You clench your pussy at his words as you feel his hot cum paint your insides and continue to fuck you even though he’s already emptied himself. You moan as your pussy tightens around his cock again and you cum hard, your orgasm sweeping over you leaving you lying face down against the desk. He pulls his cock out of your pussy, watching as his cum drips out of it and some of it falls onto the polished, shiny floor. Putting his cock away and buttoning his pants back up, he sits back down in his chair, not even bothering to help you, instead going back to arranging his papers and reading them. Your legs shake as you put your underwear back on and straighten your uniform.

—You must not question me here, understand? This will remain between us, without any indiscretions —he says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye while writing something down on a piece of paper. Your head moves slightly at his words, you don't get to nod but you don't ignore him either. —Anyway, your services have been very well received. Come back here regularly... —he falls silent at her last words and replaces them by quickly shaking his head —I'm going to need you for tomorrow, is that okay? —his gaze turns to you, this time giving you his full attention.

—It will be a pleasure, master. —you answer naturally, obediently, without protesting, not that it was a problem for you.

—You may leave now. —his gaze leaves yours, returning to the paperwork on his desk and with a bow you open the door leaving the place.

Vincent's smile never fades, even after you left the room, he continues to smile hiddenly against his papers. What an obedient maid he had at his disposal, hiring you had definitely been a good choice.

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🏹a/n: I don't know if it's what I expected, but I had it in drafts and I wanted to finish it.

—cici🏹