#it's tiring but it's worth it

[unforth]

I've been trying for ages to figure out how to put something into words about The Youth In Fandom and I still don't think I've quite got it but I did reach an insight about it that I think is valuable enough that I'm gonna take a stab at writing it.

For starters, I want to make it clear, there is no "The Youth In Fandom Problem." Based on my efforts running the art sideblogs for danmei fandoms, I can say with a fair degree of confidence that a vast minority of people of all ages are antis, purity wankers, pro-censorship, ageist, etc. Even among people who mark their bios with their age, it's a shockingly low percentage of people under 18 who are being super weird about this stuff, and I think that's something a lot of older folks bemoaning The Younger Generation could stand to know and be reminded of. This isn't a majority, it's just a vocal minority, and tbh...that vocal minority has always been there, at least in my own fandom experiences.

That said, I've personally been the target of "y r u in fandom, old woman? Go take care of your kids!" bullshit, and yes it's definitely real and yes it definitely happens. (I am not old, I am not a woman, I was here before the people who said that to me were born, and I spend all the rest of my time taking care of my kids, so...).

All that introduction is to posit a theory:

The kinds of people who say "you should grow out of it, you're too old for fandom, etc." don't actually really...like what they like.

I know that sounds batshit. They're here blogging about it 24/7, of course they're obsessed! But I really genuinely find myself wondering...like...are they actually obsessed? Or are they just performing obsessed because that's what their peer group is doing? Are they just following along with their friends, mimicking their friends' enthusiasm, going with the flow because they're scared of what will happen if they say "actually I didn't think that show was very good"?

I ended up with this as a theory to posit because is to arrive at "you should grow out of it," you have to start with "I will grow out of it." And to get to "I will grow out of it," you have to start with "I may be into this now but I will definitely Change." And to get to "I will definitely Change," you have to start with the base assumption that loving certain types of media isn't just part of who you are, but rather a temporary persona you've assumed overlaying some deeper Self that will be revealed with time - or that's already been revealed and that you're deliberately masking for whatever reason.

Lemme put it less abstractly (but more longwindedly, lmao).

When I was 16, I was fucking terrified. There were all these things I loved - Star Trek, Hercules and Xena, Babylon 5, Slayers, Evangelion, Fushigi Yuugi, the Wheel of Time, many others - some I'd been into for years, some I'd only just discovered. And I looked at the adults in the world around me, who didn't sleep with stuffed toys, who got into long-term romantic and sexual relationships, who settled into careers that they stuck with for 20, 30, 40 years, who had heaps of responsibilities, and it was so frightening I literally had trouble sleeping at night. My senior year of high school, I trained myself to sleep with a pillow instead of a stuffie because "what would people in college think if they saw me snuggling a stuffed wolf?" That was something I was prepared to sacrifice to be An Adult (tm), something I was (irrationally) ashamed of, something that wasn't so much a part of my personhood that I couldn't give it up. When I left home to go to school at 17, I left my wolf at home. (I brought him with me a year later, and he's now on my bookshelf. Less disposable than 16-year-old me thought, as it turns out, but that's another story.) But there were things about myself I wasn't prepared to sacrifice to fit in during college. I still wore my Star Wars shirt. I still hung my anime posters. I still listened to J Pop. My roommate might judge me. My classmates might judge me. My professors might judge me. I didn't care. Loving those were part of who I was, and I wasn't prepared to give that up.

I found solace by looking at the adults in my life who hadn't had to give up their "childish fancies." I looked at my mother, who introduced me to Star Trek, and thought if she didn't have to stop loving Star Trek to be An Adult, then why should I? I looked at my grandfather, on whose bookshelves I first found the Lord of the Rings, and thought if he didn't have to give up LotR to be An Adult, then why should I? They might not wear fandom shirts, they might not go to conventions, they might not engage in the same way that I did, but they still loved these things, and it gave me hope.

When I was saw adults who still did fan things, who dressed how they wanted, who had cool hair styles or colors, who had tattoos, I thought "wow, what a cool person. I hope I get to grow up to be like them. I hope I'll be that comfortable in my own skin when I'm that age, because I'm sure not that comfortable in my own skin NOW."

I'll have to change in some ways - find A Career, figure out this "attraction" thing everyone keeps fucking talking about, buy a house, all the rest - but I'll be able to love the things I love.

I will still be "me" when I'm an adult, just Me-Plus-More.

I wanted to grow up to be that adult. I was prepared to take figurative arrows, to fight, to slog through, to retain the part of me that felt most valuable - my ability to love the things I loved without apologizing for it. And I knew I could do that, because I already had. Man, the shit people gave me in middle school for being an out-and-proud Trekkie? smh. It was baaaaad.

Time passes. Now I'm 40, and yes, I have changed. I've had more than one career. I got married. I figured out I never did have to figure out that "attraction" shit because I learned asexuality existed and. uh. Oh. I had children. I bought a house.

And I still have a bookcase of manga and I still have a Tumblr blog and I've found new fandoms - many, many new fandoms - nearly all for franchises that didn't even exist when I was 16 and so so scared that I used to literally break down and cry over the prospect of "having" to "give up childish things."

I got myself through on the belief that I'd still be me, and I was right. More than 20 years later, I AM still me.

And that's what leads me back to "why do The Youth think they'll age out of fandom?" And it leads me back to "I can only assume their fandom participation is mostly performative." Because look. This is who I was when I was 10 and read Lord of the Rings, and it was who I was when I was 12 and I started watching Star Trek when Voyager debuted, and it's who I was when I was 17 and I pulled an all-nighter to watch the second season of Fushigi Yuugi, and it's who I was when I was 21 and spent my birthday totally sober and gaming with my friends, and it's who I was at 26 when I got buried up to my eyeballs in Supernatural, and it's who I was at 37 when I watched The Untamed and knew as easy as breathing oh my god I've found the next obsession.

If it's an embraced, realized, adored part of your persona, there's absolutely no reason to think it's going to go away. And there's no reason nor need for it to. There are always gonna be people who judge others for having passions, and there are always gonna be people who embrace others for having passions, and you just gotta identify and avoid the former and find and adore the latter. If you're young, and you love fandom, and you're afraid you, too, will "have to" give up childish things...congratulations! You've got nothing to be afraid of! You never have to change that aspect of yourself!

But...I know these teens on Tumblr who are bullying others already know that because they can see us everywhere. And instead of going, as I did, "oh wow, those older people who still love the things they love are cool! how reassuring! I can be like them!" they think "EW OLD PERSON NOT ALLOWED THIS IS MY ROOM DO NOT ENTER."

And that's weird. When I try to think, "What kind of mentality would lead someone to feel that way, act that way, etc.?" I arrive at: being in fandom is something that they're embarrassed about. Something they're ashamed of, that they think is shameful. Something childish and therefore only for kids, even when the media they're a fan of is entirely made for and by adults. Something they think is made for them in that moment but that they'll be able to easily discard when they move on to more important parts of their lives. Something they know in their heart is transient. Something they're just doing because their friends are doing it.

That's when they'd think "why would an adult still do this?"

When it's something you "know" will be "just a phase," you don it like you don the identity of "high school student," something that'll get shucked a minute after graduation.

And while I found the idea of giving up fandom terrifying, I again can only assume that for these type of person, NOT giving up fandom becomes something terrifying. "Of course this is transient. Of course I'm going to change. I can't wait to change, I hate who I am now! Why did these so-called adults not change? Changing to not like this kind of thing is a sign of Maturity and Adulthood that I am eagerly waiting for, because I believe there's something wrong with being this way, and therefore I assume the adults I see doing this are immature, have something wrong with them, are childish, cannot be Doing Adulthood Right, because they didn't give up the thing."

"I know, in my heart, that I can't WAIT to change, so if they don't want to change, if they haven't changed, something must be wrong with them."

And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is the only reason. People are way too complex for there ever to be One Explanation Of All. I'm sure some of the teens who engage in ageist bullying just think they're ~cool~ and ~different~ and their name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Others are just uncomfortable with adults, with or without cause, and think "you don't belong in the same space as me." Some surely have drank the conservative kool-aid even as they've tried to change and are pantomiming the bullshit they were fed by those around them in new and unpleasant ways. Some think "this media was made for people like me and anyone who isn't like me can't possibly be engaging it in the Correct And Proper Way."

Some will grow out of it - out of fandom, or out of thinking that being an adult in fandom is wrong/bad/inappropriate/immature/whatever.

A few especially unpleasant ones...won't.

Unlike young!me, who looked at fannish grown ups and thought "wow, I could grow up to be like them, they're so cool!", you think "ew, I hope I don't grow up to be like them, they're so weird!"

And if that's you...why are you here?

If you don't actually like who are you when you're in fandom, that's okay. You don't have to stay. If you lose your friends because your interests change, then those friends stink and you didn't need them anyway; people who actually care about you will always keep by your side even if your interests and theirs diverge. But just cause YOU are performing your interest in fandom...doesn't mean the rest of us are. Some of us genuinely like it here. And you might think that's fucked up of us, but it's honestly none of your fucking business. You do what you gotta do to grow up, and leave the rest of us already-grown-ups alone.

And if you do genuinely love it and you're just scared because you think you'll have to change - that you'll reach some mystical age of majority and suddenly wake up a different person...you won't. For better and for worse, you'll still be you, so if there's things about yourself you don't like, it'd be better to start working on unpacking that psychological baggage now, because there's never gonna be a miracle point where you Feel Better And Like An Adult unless you put in the effort to change.

Teenagers...you will not grow up to be a new person. You will never give up who you are. You will grow up to be You-Plus-More.

And if that's something you hear and go "omg that's great news!" then I'm glad to be the one who told you. Take heart. There's hope. You can be you and that WILL be okay. You can face up to and grow from the things about yourself you don't like. You can learn more about yourself. You have time, and you will be able to improve yourself, to become more like the parts of yourself you like and less like the parts you hate.

And if that's something you hear and go "oh god no that's the worst" then you need to stare that reaction in the face and understand that the only way change is coming is if you make it happen for yourself. No one is strong-arming you into being a fan. If it's not for you...then stop. It's literally that easy. But don't take out your uncertainty and fear on other random people who are more comfortable with themselves than you are. Most of us are not here because of fear. We're here in the face of our fear, as a fuck you to our fear, because we also grew up being told we'd have to give up so-called childish things to be An Adult, and it turns out that was a pile of bullshit and we can have careers AND anime posters. And we can afford more anime posters, cause our parents are no longer telling us how to spend our money.

If your participation in fandom is primarily performative...just stop performing. Be yourself, and find your OWN passion, and stop shitting on the people who have managed to be more true to themselves and their own interests. You're not cool and edgy and different; you're just an asshole and a bully, and I pity you.

Anyway as you can tell from this rambly mess of a post, I haven't really gotten my finger on my point yet, but idk. I've been thinking about this and I think there's something there???

[mischieviem]

That natural soup show or whatever

[wizard-laundry]

the text originally read "EGADS! DO MY EYES DECEIVE ME?"

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

he's squeaky toy. to me.

[hussyknee]

Your "non-confrontational" choices not to communicate hurt the people you don't confront btw. You're not a martyr for keeping everything inside and then running away when other people don't know what's going on with you. You just decided avoiding rejection and sparing your own feelings was easier than being honest and giving them the agency to respond and make their own decisions. You chose to hurt them so they didn't hurt you. You think your feelings are realer and more important than their own care and love for you. You were always just waiting for a sign to run.

"If they cared about me they would have–" did you tell them that? Did you let them know how you feel? How much importance you place on those requirements they don't know they have to meet? This secret criteria and secret signs for your secret feelings? Or are you making them play a game they don't know even exists?

Your choice not to communicate isn't cute. You didn't run because they didn't feel the same for you. You ran so you wouldn't have to risk rejection. You chose to prioritise your own self-protection over their trust in and love for you. At least own that.

[thevioletcaptain]

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

[chestnutroan]

waking up

[why-the-heck-not]

me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))

[spaltedrat]

cowgirl yuri for thy weary soul

[someonefantastic]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRUE HALLIWELL | October 28, 1970

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 5-11

1 - day 2 - truth - 3

[yayll]

~ a little something about Dazai's impeccable detective skills... only when it comes to you ~

"Uh-huh... And you said you were meeting someone last night?" Dazai pretends to jot down this information, his brows slightly furrowed as he scribbles into the notepad he conjured up from his long tan coat just a few seconds ago.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Ah, I see.. Fascinating. And how was it?"

"How was what?"

"Your date." He says, smugly. His head tilts in mock innocence, and his smile stays plastered on his lips while he watches you practically choke on your own spit. Now he's really going to start writing details down...

"Oh, no, it wasn't like that. Nothing that official, heh." You fidget with your fingers, looking down, and suddenly your shoelaces are the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You didn't think questioning would last this long, you weren't even involved in the crime, but this eccentric detective before you says all witnesses are vital for the investigation and you're just doing your civil duty as a valued member of society!

And this drives Dazai insane... how ridiculous that you don't have a clear standing within the life of whomever you were seeing. It should be a crime, really! If you were his, no one would ever hear the end of it. He hums to himself, nodding as if in deep thought as he draws a heart around your name in his notepad, adding his own name right under yours. He clears his throat and looks back up at you, making sure his knees don't give out at the way you seem so bashful around him.

"I beg your pardon? Do I hear that a young and beautiful person has not been swept off their feet successfully?"

Just before you can answer, a young man with white hair and a peculiar asymmetrical haircut runs to Dazai's side. He peers at his notes, and nervously chimes in.

"Er, Dazai? Mister Kunikida wanted me to come find you, but I didn't think you'd actually be working- Why are there so many hearts drawn-"

Dazai immediately moves his hand over the young man's face and comically shoves it away from his notepad, still smiling at at you. He speaks through gritted teeth and a nervous chuckle.

"Not now, Atsushiiiii, I'm working~"

This causes Atsushi to grumble, his face deflating into an annoyed sigh as his gloved hand scratches the top of his head.

"But Dazai, this is kind of important, and I really don't want to have to be the one to tell Kunikida that you're slacking off again..."

Dazai instantly snaps his head to look at Atsushi, pointing at you with dramatic flair, his voice reaching a mocking pitch.

"Oh, but I'm not, young Atsushi! I've come out here on pure basic instinct... I'm conducting a very serious investigation, and so unfortunately Kunikida and the rest of the folks at the agency will just have to wait for my genius intellect to come up with a tantalizing resolve. Get Ranpo to help. 'Kay byeee!~"

Dazai grabs you by the arm and though the gesture is hasty, he's surprisingly very gentle as he drags you away from the white haired young man. You're now standing outside a cafe and Dazai takes out what looks like a business card, presenting it to you. He scans your slightly confused face, and thinks about what other precious faces you'd make for him if he stuck around you long enough like the hound dog he is. He wonders if you'd let him touch your arm again, maybe even your hand... maybe even your-

"Are you okay, Dazai?" You ask in slight concern. Oops! He's been nonverbal for too long. He shakes his head rapidly and lets out a soft chuckle.

"Never been better! Here, take this, it's my personal contact. I think I've got all the notes I need to finish my work, but I seem to be missing one last thing-"

He proceeds to lean in a little, his now softened hazelnut eyes looking into yours intently, and his voice becoming drastically more serious. There's a glint of sincerity, and an emotion you can't quite place, but it makes your blood pressure spike and your cheeks flush at the casual intimacy of it all.

"... A time and date so I can see you again, perhaps?"

You feel yourself feeling giddy, and slightly stammer as your response flows out of you coyly.

"Ooh well, maybe tomorrow in the evening? I'll be off of work then. We can um, get coffee here?" You nod your chin up at the cafe sign, and flash him a soft smile. A smile that will keep him happily satiated until tomorrow.

"Ah, then it's a date! An official one..." He winks at you, and pats the top of your head, the feeling is light and angelic. By the time you recover, he's gone. You get a last glimpse of the way the tail of his coat swishes as he sharply turns the corner of the street, and you stand there smiling like a giddy schoolgirl. What you don't know is he does the very same thing, thinking about how playing with the fire of his own destiny is worth ruining if he could cement himself into your heart. In his adoring eyes, you could do no wrong. That's his job.

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[givemequeen]

lap dance: spencer reid x reader

a/n: another fic inspired by someone's (thirst) post. hope you enjoy it!

warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, lap dance, sex in front of a mirror

You were wearing just the white hotel bathrobe when Spencer knocked softly on the door. He had waited the usual hour after everyone said goodnight before sneaking towards you room.

"Hey there." he whispered as he entered your room. "Did you just step out of the shower?" his hands were on you the second the door closed; both hands on your waist, squeezing you against him,

You pulled him down for a kiss "Mmhm." you hummed against his mouth.

He was still wearing his work clothes; brown trousers, light blue shirt, and dark blue tie. He had rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his arms and all the veins that popped out.

Fuck, he looked sexy.

You stepped back, getting a good look at him, and, pulling on his tie, walked backwards towards the armchair situated in the corner of your hotel room. Grabbing his shoulders, you sat him down. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What's going on?" he asked, adjusting himself in his seat. He was relaxed, his arms resting on the side of the chair.

You said nothing. Slowly, you tugged on the robe's belt. Spencer watched as the white garment fell to floor, pooling around your bare feet.

"Oh." he breathed, sitting up straight. He reached out, his warm hands flattening against your hips, and pulled you towards him. His mouth was on you in an instant; kissing your stomach, your breasts, your thighs. Anywhere he could reach.

"You look perfect." he groaned. "Is this all for me?" he tugged on the band of the black, lacy lingerie set you had bought last weekend.

"Yeah." you finally said. "Do you like it?" you knew he did, it was dumb question, but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Like it?" he scoffed. "I love it." he let go of the thong's strap, it snapped against your thigh. You let out a small moan at the feeling. "You like that?" he said, his words echoing yours.

You nodded.

"Turn around." he leaned back on his chair, the removal of his hands hand in hand with the loss of his warmth.

You did as he asked, turning around to give him a full look of your set. He whistled, clearly approving of your outfit choice.

"Shit, you look amazing." he swore, pulling at the knot at his neck and undoing his tie. He reached out to grab you once more and moved to pull you onto his lap.

You obliged, sliding against him like a puzzle piece snapping into place. He was already hard and you could feel him pressing against your legs. You rolled your hips, moaning at the feeling of him. He kissed you, hard.

Spencer took your lower lip between his teeth, tugging at the soft flesh and the swiping his tongue over it. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly just how he liked it. He placed his hands on your ass, kneading it.

"Wait." you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled away.

"What is it, babe?" he asked, chasing your lips.

"I have a surprise for you." you got off of his lap and stood in front of him.

"Another one?" his tone was eager.

You nodded and walked over to your phone that lay on your nightstand. You hit play; a low, seductive song began playing high enough that you two could hear it but low enough that your hotel neighbours wouldn't.

You reached down and pulled on your left tight that had rolled downwards. Spencer licked his lip, eager for whatever was about to unfold.

You stepped towards him, swinging your hips and fighting the urge to cover up. He wanted this, he loved your body. And if him telling you so didn't convince you, the raw lust and hunger in his eyes surely did.

When you were stood in front of him, you spun around and lowered yourself onto his lap. He placed his hands on your hips, not guiding you, just resting there. You rolled your ass on his crotch, feeling your arousal grow at his very obvious one.

You placed your hands on his knees, spreading your legs wide. Your back arched, pressing yourself further into him. Spencer groaned, moaning your name.

"God, you're an angel." he whispered.

You pushed off of him and spun around. You placed your right leg on his left knee and made a show of tugging your tights up, snapping the sheer, black material against your thighs.

"I've been waiting for you all day, Spence." you said, keeping your voice low and steady. "Been thinking about you all day. About what you would do to me." you leaned down and kissed him, grabbing his cheek.

When you pulled away, he leaned forward, cashing your lips.

"What do you want me to do to you?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Lots of things, Spence. Dirty things." your placed your hand on your breast, your finger tracing circles around your nipples. Slowly, you slid your hand down your body, stopping at your belly button. "I want you to touch me. Here."

"What else?" his eyes were getting darker. You could see how he was holding himself back, his arms gripped the chair.

"I want you to fuck me." you said innocently. "Hard." you added. His eyes sparkled.

"How?" he asked.

"However you want."

"I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me, darling?" he leaned forward and grabbed your waist.

"Yes. I'll do anything for you." you leaned down and finally kissed him, relishing in the way he hungrily kissed you back. You moaned against his lips, he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

You rolled your hips against his erection, hands frantically reaching for his belt. Quickly, you undid it and with some struggle, you pulled down his trousers and pants. Your fingers quickly undid his shirt, leaving it on but exposing his chest. You went to take off your own underwear but he stopped you.

"No." one of his hands wrapped around both of yours. "It stays on."

You swallowed and nodded. His hands slid over the curve of your ass, guiding you towards him. He reached between you and pulled your underwear to the side. Once you were lined up, he pushed the head of his cock into you.

"Fuck." you hissed, gripping onto his shoulders.

"C'mon baby, I know you can take it." he looked up to your eyes and raised an eyebrow, daring you to prove him wrong.

You looked into his eyes as you relaxed and slid him into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bottomed out. He stretched you in the nicest way possible.

His hands were on your waist, guiding you as you rocked your hips against him. He tugged your left cup down, revealing your breast. His mouth on your breast was like heaven. His tongue and lips skilfully licked and sucked just where you needed him the most.

Your head fell back, eyes closed tightly. You bounced on his cock, your grip on his shoulders was so tight you were scared it would harm him. But Spencer only encouraged you, praising you.

"You're doing so well." he moaned. "Fuck, you do it so well. You take me so well. I knew you could."

His words only made you go faster. Your tits bounced as you sped up. Your hand reached between the two of you, quickly finding your clit.

"Are you close, baby?" he asked, his hands on your waist helping you as you bounced on him.

"Yes, fuck." you rubbed harder. "Are you?" you popped open one eye and stared at him.

Spencer was looking down, between the two of you, as he slid in and out of you.

"Shit. Look." he ordered, slowly you down. "Look at how well I fit inside of you. Look how well you ride my cock." he grabbed your chin and made you look down.

You moved your hand and watched as his cock slowly slid in and out of you.

"Spence." you panted. "The bathroom. There's a mirror." you gestured behind you with your head, towards the open bathroom.

In one swift move, Spencer hooked his arms around your thighs and picked you up. He, while still buried deep inside of you, shuffled over to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter.

"Shit. You look so good." he rolled his hips against you. "Your ass looks amazing." he grabbed it, squeezing it gently.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking you quickly as you both chased your high. From this angle, he could reached between you; you always preferred his fingers.

The pad of his fingers pressed against your clit as he quickly fucked you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. Your torsos were pressed flush against each other. You rested your head on his shoulder, biting down on it and you got closer and closer.

Spencer was looking over your shoulder, staring at your ass as you moaned his name.

"Fuck, yes, I want to hear you moan my name while you come." he leaned back and stared into your eyes. "Are you close?" he asked.

You bit your lower lip and vigorously nodded. You were so close.

"Come for me." he sped his movements. "Look at me." he said when your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Say my name."

You didn't need to be told twice. You moaned his name like a prayer as you stared into his deep brown eyes. His pupils were blown wide, eclipsing the familiar colour.

"Fuck me. Shit. Don't stop. Spencer, fuck-" you moaned, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave.

You pressed your lips against his, teeth clashing, as fireworks exploded behind your eyes. You squeezed his cock, pushing him over the edge. He pushed into you once, twice, three times, as his cum filled you.

The heel of your foot pressed against his lower back, keeping him in place even after you both came down from your high. You pulled back from the kiss, panting, and smiled.

"That was so good." Spencer whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. He gave you a small kiss and began moving backwards.

You wrapped your legs around him tighter.

"Wait. Not yet." you said, not wanting to feel that overwhelming sense of emptiness just yet. "Wait a minute."

Spencer laughed, a deep rumbling laugh, and kissed you gently.

"Anything you want, baby."

[kafus]

dot experimenting with clothes 🩷✨with a hint of likodot because you know how i am LOL

[2aceofspades]

HAPPY 3K EMD!!!

I won't even lie, it took me over a week to think up something special to do to celebrate but aaaaa-!!!

And I won't get too sappy, I promise..But!

I do want to say that I am constantly inspired by and proud of the lovely artists that bring this story to life. Thank you Somni and Teaa for sharing your amazing au 💖 and congratulations on hitting 3k! 🙌✨!!

(: