#lots of self promotion here

[windor-truffle]

5/6 chapters done for the first arc of Two Hearts Could Be One!!!!!!! The last one is still missing a lot of scenes but at this rate I *should* be able to meet my self-imposed June deadline :) Playing the remaster has definitely helped too, since the beginning of my fic is more similar to canon than the eventual divergences. aaaaa I hope I can post it soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[musicalmoritz]

I want to make it very clear that I do not have writers block, the only reason I haven’t finished that Aoinene fic yet is bcuz I’m lazy af. And because my sister keeps asking to hang out every time I sit down to work on it and I can’t break the sacred bond of sibling time🍎

[tonariofjananda]

This was my participation piece for the @yuriolympics2023 ‘s first prompt, “Memory.”✌️

The fic covers things that will happen in Season 3 (including a theory that I’m treating as 100% canon tbh, lol) so if you’re not caught up with the manga, please keep that in mind :)

[hug-your-face]

via @swatercolour here on Tumblr and also on [insta]

EDIT: I do not interpret "just managing" as "just suffering, just enduring, curling into a fetal position and waiting for it to be over." Managing is an active process.

So I'm using this post as a platform to make the reminder that "the power of the people is greater than the people in power," and we all are cordially invited to:

Take good care of ourselves. Mental, physical, emotional health. Hydrate. Move if we can, get outside if we can.

Keep up a routine. Remember quarantine and we all had to find a routine? This is the same.

Be intentional in our news consumption. Let's not stick our heads in the sand but let's not doomscroll either. Get an RSS aggregator. Subscribe to WTF Just Happened Today, Yoour Local Epidemiologist, Fix The News (for some inspiring hopeful news!). We'll check our feeds a few times a week, but no more than once a day.

Connect with friends and loved ones. Remind ourselves that while SOME people are horrible, for the most part people are awesome... if complicated. Share our fears but also our hopes. Eat together.

Now that we're keeping healthy, safe, sane, and hopeful... now we also fight. Quietly if we prefer, loudly if we prefer. But sustainably. I hate that I had to live through three rounds of this nonsense where a few people use half of us as tools to fuck over ALL of us, but here we are again. So let us take just one moment every week or so to...

Use 5calls to keep blowing up our reps phones. Tell them to either break ranks with the Orange Administration, or to stand up louder than just matching outfits and signs. Or to THANK them for standing up.

Use Vote411 to find elections before the midterms. A lot of villages, cities, townships etc have local elections that will affect where we live... and more importantly, the people in office there will affect things upwards too.

Use Ballotpedia to know exactly what's on our ballots ahead of time.

Protest, because it actually works.

Use Vote.org to make a plan to vote in the midterms. Make a plan that is immune to voter suppression tactics. Get our documents in order. Reach out to our friends to go to the polls as a group. Plan to livestream our visit, up until the point we have to turn our cameras off.

Make and share memes that promote hope, organizing, solidarity, and/or resistance.

Get involved with an action network like Indivisible, MoveOn, or Working Families Party.

Go to a local town hall meeting. Speak up.

Heck, start our own local activism networks, letter campaigns, call campaigns, or fundraisers with Action Network.

And we will remember our self-care. We will remind ourselves and each other that they want us scattered, focus is how we resist.

It IS coming back. Things ARE going to get worse. The world has become a place where a very few people are pulling levers and pushing buttons that are actively destroying much of what is good about living in a society where people care for each other.

Many others are in shock, sputtering "but can they do that?" MANY many others are waiting for someone to come save us.

But there are those who are actively, loudly, opposing.

And there are more people speaking up, acting up, every day. More people saying it's time to get scrappy. It's time to get into some good trouble. The shock is wearing off.

Yes, it's gonna get worse before it gets better (the long-term damage of the acts of the past momentum of all the damage that has been done will take that long to be felt -- but it WILL get better.

If WE will it.

[phantomrose96]

When people join self-improvement or even hobbyist communities, there are some absolutely critical skills of fundamental skepticism they need when going in. I think most people who get into these communities aren't aware of these.

And just, as a fundamental few:

Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

These are absolutely rife in fitness, nutrition, and financial-advice communities and they often receive very little scrutiny except among those who already "got out." Because from the outside, seeing someone get into fitness is a good thing, good for them, glad to see it, look at that dedication, happy for them. Same on the other categories, and probably numerous others I haven't seen.

---------

Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

If the answer is yes, that does NOT mean "immediately abort", it means keep that in mind when you're interacting with their content.

This nutrition influencer has given you some great recipes for free, and now they're promoting a "really fantastic" brand that they have an affiliate link with? Their motivation isn't to be your friend and helpfully clue you in on a great product. It's to make money off you.

You really like this fitness influencer's work outs, but she gets MORE interaction and MORE viewers the skinnier she gets? She CLAIMS she's been losing weight naturally with healthy eating and exercise, and she's still full of energy, and You Can Too. This is not your friend. This is not someone who knows you. This is someone under large financial and social pressure to do everything she can to put out her best appearance and her happiest appearance, and your attention and belief in the appearance is where the money and clout come from. You really need to remember this in the same way you remember to look both ways before crossing the street. You can cross a street and you can follow a fitness account, but protect yourself when doing it.

---------

Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Communities stay strong if they retain people. There are a lot of fine and positive ways to retain people, but it's often easier to retain people by instilling them with a sense that they must be here. They should feel bad if they lapse or if their attention drifts. What they were before was inadequate. Everyone outside this community is inadequate. Do you want to go back to inadequate?

Is that financial subreddit that taught you valuable lessons about 401k's, index funds, and budgeting also quietly pressuring you to always do more? Are the top posts from extremist examples of people living in destitution so they can show the most extreme screenshot, and curate the envy of everyone else who ought to be ashamed of not doing as well as them?

Is that fitness community that got you into jogging also putting you in the mind that the truest and best people exercise 7 days a week? Never miss a metric? Never compromise on their dedication?

Is that person who "cut out all sugar and feels amazing" informing you that you should never have another cupcake in your life? And if you DO it's because you're BAD and DON'T WORRY, you'll get RIGHT back on the horse after. Shame will motivate you to come right back, and stay with the community, and never leave.

As long as you stay, the community grows. As long as you stay, the ad sponsors and the endorsed products and the influencers can benefit more and more. And sometimes, there's perhaps not even a malicious force behind it. It can happen from evolutionary pressures. The communities that survive are the ones that retain people. A community that trips accidentally into a model of pressuring people to stay is one which retains people and thrives.

-----------

Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

You joined because you wanted to learn to cook for yourself. And this community has been helpful! You know how to make some delicious things. You've tried vegetables you've never tried before. And maybe you needed some convincing that brussel sprouts can be yummy, but what do you know, turns out you like them roasted.

But what else is being said? What things are being said with more and more frequency? Is it that "humans don't actually need any sugar, and it's a poison being sold to us?" Is it that "seed oils are toxic for you"? Is it that "pasteurization is bad"? Is the raw fruitarian convincing you that cavemen lived exclusively off fruit and you can too?

They'll have sources sometimes. Check them. Are they cherry-picked? Are they from an insular echo-chamber? Why isn't the mainstream literature aware of this? And if the answer has anything to do with "because mainstream wants to TRICK YOU and you're actually BAD for ASKING" then don't engage. Disregard. Take the recipes if you must but apply your skeptical filter to all the parts that are snake oil.

Sometimes it's that another community is only a stone's throw away. That person with a great financial portfolio has only good things to say about crypto, and what they're saying is making sense (average person [not smart] [poor] [bad money skills] laughs at crypto, but you're smarter. you're on the in-track). That amazing bodybuilder is pulling the hottest dates, and he says it's about male-confidence, and he says there are good support guides on becoming a respectable masculine man, and all you need to do is reclaim your masculinity in a society that wants to steal it from you.

In any place like this, come up for air. Come up for air FREQUENTLY. Talk to regular people and engage in academic literature outside this circle. Conspiracy thinking wins if you draw all your information from the entity trying to sell you on the conspiracy.

------------

And I hope this is clear but my message is not "never join a community." My message is know danger when you see it. Recognize when you're being used or pressured. Don't fall for conspiracy thinking. Protect yourself. You can use a gas stove to cook meals but don't touch the flame and don't burn your house down. You can cross the street but recognize the signs of a car coming down the street.

And I'm making this point because so many people just don't know. ...Because getting into fitness is "good" and "self-improvement"! So is nutrition. So if financial responsibility. People walk into it and the extremism can make them feel accomplished, and admired, and like they're a part of something, and maybe even like a proper self-punishment for their own inadequacies. And people on the outside won't save you because "Wow! He spends 3 hours at the gym every day! I wish I was that dedicated." is a common attitude, and will push you deeper into what has its claws in you.

Everything I'm saying is not because I'm so much smarter and so much holier-than-thou for knowing this when others don't--I'm saying this because I was in it. I fell for it. Not all the examples above, of course. But I recognize the machine in them. It is highly appealing to run farther and fast longer and overload your class schedule when you don't feel good enough and want to prove something, and so many communities will sell you on the idea this IS an accomplishment. Then once you do, you have to do it forever. Or else you'll go back to not being good enough. And since fitness is "good", and weight-loss and good grades, no one can save you but you.

The answer was not to give up on the hobbies I was doing. I cook for myself most nights. I run and bike as regular parts of my routine. I like new recipes and I like half-marathons. But these are just positive additions to my life and they do not define my worth. If I miss a work-out it's whatever. If I order take-out it's whatever. I fundamentally do not care about the influencer with the washboard abs, and if I try a work-out from her, I have no loyalty to it. If the new recipe I try mentions "clean eating" I'll roll my eyes and just figure out if the recipe seems good. If the recipe is botching itself to avoid certain scare-words I will simply find something else.

There is absolutely a reasonable place for challenging yourself and trying things outside your comfort zone. The internet is full of resources to do so much more than you currently know how to do. And if that community is an oven, recognize it's an oven. Wear oven mitts. If it's actively on fire, leave. You're the only one protecting you. Stay safe.

[mynqzo]

reposting this information to it's own post because asker was a racist.

What's going on right now in the Republic of Georgia / Sakartvelo? A new legislation just passed that official bans - human rights essentially, gay-marriage, gender-firming care and surgery, any 'promotion' of queer identity. Soon after this legislation passed, trans model Kesaria Abramidze was murdered as a direct consequence of this.

Why is this super extra bad? Besides the several many lives at stake, the safety of queer families and the lethality of hate crimes, Georgia's wish to enter the EU is falling to a complete simmer due to this, soon to be extinguished completely. Here is an article about the international reaction to this legislation:

What can you do to help? The biggest thing we currently rely on is international push back especially from the EU members and the possible overturn of this in the upcoming election. It does not help that this law is implemented due to greedy fucks and Russian puppets in Georgia who benefit from this. source:

You might hear many refer to this as 'Russian law' which is due to the fact that Georgia, under this puppet-leadership mimics Russian laws like the 'Foreign Agents Law' that was put into work only a few months prior the law assumes 'only receiving foreign funds makes an organization a foreign agent.' and I don't think I have to explain how horrendous that is.

We also rely on our president to veto the legislation before it goes into 'full effect' (though the consequences and effect have already begun) but even with this the political party which instated this legislation argue to over-ride her veto in parliament. source:

The most important thing right now is vocal pushback, and public support of the queer community. with what happened to Kesaria (may she rest in peace) a lot of trans people are fearing for their lives, and queer families no longer can remain in their own country if they want to continue to be themselves in any way.

Spread love, a lot of it like as much as you can offer to queer Georgians everywhere.

[once-upon-the-earth]

I love this concept so much lmaoo

I wrote a fic for it last summer! Hastur's Very Bad Not Good Day, it’s the entire trial from his perspective

Do you think Hastur has nightmares with Crowley saying "Do you feel lucky?" after he saw said individual bath in a tub of Holy Water. Holy Water that was used to threaten him while he thought the freak was not immune to? But turns out (he thinks) Crowley is? Do you think he saw his life flash before his tiny black eyes when Crowley asked the Archangel Michael for a towel?

[goorgeousz]

bed chem | aaron hotchner

after hours au

bed chem | aaron hotchner

after hours au

18+ MDNI

summary: you just moved into a new city, finally getting a job promotion. when you visit the bar near your new place to celebrate, you didn’t expect to walk out with company.

pairing: aaron hotchner x female reader

content/tw: smut, female reader, p in v sex, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), (very VERY self-indulgent, honestly), dirty talking, filthy words, hotch eating reader out from the back (!!!!!), reader riding hotch, mentions of morning sex,

word count: 4.6k

a/n: this is the first time I write on tumblr (hopefully not last) and the first time I write about criminal minds! English is not my first language so keep that in mind… i’m on season 11 and ugh I have so many ideas all the time, I just had to let it out! I planned this to be a series, I’m super excited!! hope you enjoy :)

after hous au masterlist

main masterlist

You regretted going out as soon as you stepped into the bar. It was a sunday night, for christ’s sake, you should be doing your skincare, maybe watching a crappy reality show, getting ready for your first day at work.

But the moving in really caught up to you, and you didn’t have any time to celebrate your promotion until now. And if there is one thing about you is that you can’t not celebrate big or small accomplishments. 

This is why you found yourself in an unknown bar near your new apartment, in your new city, ready to get a drink and celebrate your promotion. Alone.

When you opened the bar's glass doors, the place being as crowded as you’d expect a bar on a sunday night to be, a loud and dramatic bell rang, making everyone look at you. Most of them didn’t keep they’re glance for more than a second, but it was enough time for your face to heat in embarrassment.

The bar was dark, most of the illumination coming from the led decorations on the walls and ceiling. Some booths on the corners, a few tables splayed across the place and the bar in the center, with some barstools displayed in front of it.

Not wanting to seem lost, you directed yourself to one of the barstools without hesitation. Sitting alone at one of the tables would seem much more lonely. Placing yourself in one of the furthest barstools, you fixed your black leather jacket on your shoulders, still feeling cold from outside.

“What can I get you, sugar?” the badman asked immediately, throwing a cloth over his shoulder and resting his hands on the counter “Can you get me a scotch, please?” you asked “Yes ma’am.” he nodded, leaning down to grab two whiskey glasses “Look, seems like you are matching.” he smiled, handing you one of the drinks and the other to the man one seat away from you.

Only then you paid attention to said man. He was older than you, his dark hair reflecting the colorful leds on the wall. His face showed tiredness, contracting with his tailored suit perfectly lined up, not one single wrinkle. His brown eyes shone, you realized when you exchanged a glance, analysing each other.

You measured each other for a while, until he surprisingly raised his glass, in a silent toast. You smiled at that, mimicking his gesture. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in an almost smile while he brought the drink into his mouth and took a long sip, without taking his eyes off you. 

You weren’t ready to admit that his gaze warmed you up more than the strong liquid you had going down your throat.

“It’s my first time here” you said, feeling the subtle need to start a conversation. He arched an eyebrow in a mix of surprise and encouragement for you to keep talking. You decided to keep going before the liquor courage slipped away “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not much.” he answered, finishing his drink. His voice thick and low made your eyes lower to his lips still wet from the drink, like you were intimidating it to keep talking. You gulped down your drink, trying to distract yourself from the staring, not wanting to look like a creep. Realizing he had to be a little less stoic if he wanted the conversation to keep flowing, he continued “I’d usually be at home, but work…” he took a deep breath “It was a stressful week.” you nodded in sympathy “You too?”

“Not really. I’m celebrating. Just got promoted.” you explained, smiling. He gave another of his almost-smiles, but a little less unexpressive.

“Good job.” he said, and you couldn’t pretend his praise didn’t get to you “Can I buy you a drink? To celebrate.” he suggested, his serious expression just slightly suggestive. You agreed before he could finish asking. “Only if you drink with me. Doesn’t seem like a celebration if I'm by myself.” you flirted bluntly.

Then he really smiled. Although it was a rather discreet smile, it was enough for you to spend the rest of the night finding reasons to get him to smile again, making you have to fight the urge to just jump in his bones right there when he did.

While he ordered you another round of drink, you moved from the seat next to him, his side pressed directly to yours, the heat suddenly so high you had to take off your jacket.

His gaze wandered to each inch of your now displayed arms and shoulders, slow, hungry and warm, stopping at your face. Deciding to distract yourself with the first thing that came to mind, before you devoured him, you introduced yourself with nothing but your first name – yes, that intimate – offering your hand for him to shake.

Which turned out to be a terrible idea, because when he did, his hand, large, warm and calloused, wrapped almost completely yours, turning you on even more.

“Aaron.” he said, mimicking you and going for first name basis “Aaron” you repeated instinctively, needing to taste the sound of his name from your mouth “Mhm” he murmured, his gaze fixed on your lips almost predatory. Before he could say anything, the barman came back with your drinks, sliding them to you with a knowing look “To your promotion.” he offered, raising his glass towards you. “And to the next week. May it be less stressing” you added, making him chuckle.

The rest of the night was a blurry. Neither of you discussed anything personal, with you being new in the city and him being a stranger – a very hot, sexy, strong stranger, but still – it was best to avoid. You, more than anyone, knew how far man could go.

Despite all this wisdom, nothing stopped you from letting him caress your thigh softly between one topic and another.

A couple hours passed by, the alcohol and his smooth talk already vanishing any hesitation about that being a  good idea. The bar was starting to seem too hot, the group of people sitting in one of the booths talking loud enough to be a bother, and, truthfully, what you wanted to do to Aaron could never happen at that bar in front of that many people. Unless you wanted to end up handcuffed beside him.

Which didn’t seem like that bad of an idea, you thought.

“You're staring” he stated, looking at you with a barely-there-smirk. You were already outside, after he – very discreetly, mind you – covered the bill with a tip so high that made the bartender howl.

“Am I?” you asked, a predatory smile spreading on your lips “Does that bother you?” he narrowed his eyes “Some people may find it disturbing” “Do you?” you blinked lingeringly. He approached you, his lips almost connected to your ear, his breath warming you from the cold outside “Looking at me like that, I can’t imagine something you can do that bothers me.”

“Aaron” you practically moaned, begging for something you still didn’t know what it was. But apparently he did. His name on your lips, your voice hoarse from desire, was almost like a curse, a spell. He was a goner as soon as he heard it. With a steady but gentle hand, he grabbed your chin, angling your face towards his.

As soon as his lips connected to yours, it was over.

Ignoring the annoying little voice in your head that reminded you these being your first days in the city and you shouldn’t bring a stranger back to your place, you told him you lived only one block away, a clear invite implied.

In what felt like 1 minute and 3 hours at the same time, you arrived at your building, luckily getting the elevator empty. Not even waiting for the doors to close, Aaron backed you up on the corner of the elevator, his tall and strong body pressing your back to the wall while his mouth worked wonders on your neck. Any good manners you may have turned into far memories while he drags moans out of you with every touch, kiss and breath.

His hands left the deathly grip on your hips and took hold of your jacket, taking it off of you. He groaned when your shoulders were back on display, his mouth immediately connecting to them. The leather of the jacket slided though your arms, and he picked it up before it hit the ground.

The elevator doors opened, and you walked out together to your apartment. You got the keys in the hidden pocket of your jacket, which he held out in a politeness that was almost comical if compared with the brutality of you making out just a few seconds before, and tried to open the door with shaking fingers.

It was a hard job, honestly, but the attentive gaze he fixated on you and on each one of your movements made you more uneasy than if he was touching you. He chuckled when you almost dropped the key, which embarrassed you and turned you on simultaneously. You silently thank god when you finally manage to unlock the door, getting in and letting him follow suit.

You locked the door while he placed your jacket on a chair. You fixed your dress, which under his attentiveness felt like three times shorter, and wandered towards the dinner table, subtly feeling shy.

“Do you want something to eat?” you offered, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. He tilted his head to the side, a smirk slowly growing on his face “Yes. Bend over.” he nodded towards the table behind you, and your breath hitched.

You didn’t feel any shame at how fast you turned away from him and bent over your dinner table, submitting to him and his orders.

Aaron grazed the tip of his fingers through your covered back, his tough somehow feather-like and firm at the same time. You held back a moan because it would be pathetic being so turned on by that.

He moved your hair to the side in a swift motion, finding your zipper on your upper back. While he unzipped your dress in a torturous-slow pace, he left open-mouth kisses within every inch of skin that got exposed. You stopped fighting against the sounds that threatened to escape with every touch of his.

When he got to the very end of the zipper, on your lower back, he lifted you off the table by your waist just enough to slide the dress off your legs. The strangled sound he made when he saw you lying on the table, nothing on your body except for your blood red lacy underwear and high heels, made your legs shake.

He approached you, gripping tightly on your hips and massaging your ass-cheeks like it was a play toy. He squeezed you, lifted you and pressed you against the table, manhandling you at his own wishes. Your moans were nothing but a fuel for him to continue the erotic exploration through your skin.

“Aaron…” you murmured, begging. “Mhmm” he agreed, not needing any other incentive to remove the last piece of fabric you had on. Despite the slow and tortured manners he used to take off your dress, he got rid of your underwear urgently and hungrily, throwing it across the room without another thought.

He stepped back to watch the mess he made without even having properly started with you, proud of himself. Your body displayed across the dinner table, your back arched as much as possible and your stomach pressed against the cold material. Your ass thrown back, your legs slightly parted and your heat open and wet, daring him to come closer.

You looked back, the lack of his body heat pressed against you causing you literal pain, and the way he stared at you, his pupil dilated and a evil smirk dancing on his lips, was an entire foreplay on its own. Your naked self displayed like a meal in contrast with his perfectly straightened suit was a sight so obscene that it should be a crime.

Not wanting to be entirely submissive, you swayed your hips, throwing them even more in his direction, which immediately wiped the smirk off his face. He stepped closer so fast that you only registered the slap he gave you when you felt the hot ache on the flesh of your ass, hoping the bruise of his large and calloused hand turned a tattoo on your skin.

“Nice mirror.” he murmured, referring to the long and asymmetrical mirror on the right side of the table, reaching the ceiling. For a moment you forgot about it, still not used to your apartment, so looking at the sight of you two almost drove you insane.

Aaron distanced himself just enough to manage to swipe a hand between the two of you, gently caressing your folds with his ring and middle finger. He groaned, his hand already slippery from your juices.

“Please.” you begged. His feather-like touches were better than nothing but far from enough to give you any relief “Use your words, dear.” he said, somehow sounding tender and sarcastic at the same time “I need… You…. Do something, anything… Whatever you want, just… Please” you panted, his hand gripping your hip tight enough to keep you from moving. “Hmmm” he agreed, finally satisfied with your answer. You almost screamed when you saw him kneeling down through the mirror, his face directly aligned with your open folds.

“Oh my…” your words turned into a yelp when you felt Aaron’s tongue lick a stripe down your folds, from your clit down to your hole, and you shake in anticipation. He alternated between wet kisses, the same way he did with your mouth, and caressed his fingers, using the same two he used to tease you to penetrate you.

The squeal you let out when he pressed his thumb on your clit was loud enough to make him stand up, stepping away. You turned your face to him desperately, making him chuckle. “Calm down” he snorted, staring deeply at your eyes as he undid his tie -the first piece of clothing he let go. Instead of getting undressed, he crumpled the thick and expensive-looking fabric and shoved it into your mouth, which for some reason was slightly opened while you watched him. “You’re being too loud and it’s already too late.” he explained, his smirk showing how much he was enjoying degrading you like that -you were too. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and he leaned closer, tugging your hair to place your head against his shoulder. “If someone interrupts us to complain about the noise I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

With your mouth being full, you only managed to moan in response – not that you would be able to form anything else even if you could. He just chuckled and kneeled down again.

Now he wasn’t exploring you anymore: he was fully devouring you. He knew exactly where to touch, where to bite and where to lick to make your legs shake and gave out. You drooled on his tie, your moans and yelps muffled with it. Your brain was partially melted, your instincts almost animalistics while his wet kisses quickly – almost too quickly – worked you up.

He felt you clench around his fingers, penetrating you skillfully, letting out a strangled groan  while he curved his fingers in a hook inside you and sucked on your clit. You didn’t have an ounce of shame inside of you, only desperation while you rubbed yourself on his face, chasing the relief you knew it was about to happen.

And it did.

Your vision blurred, and as much as you wanted it, you couldn’t keep your eyes opened. Your legs gave out and if it weren’t for the strong grip of Aaron you would’ve probably hit the ground. He didn’t stop his kisses and caresses, just making it more gently, helping you ride out your orgasm as long as possible. When you started to get too sensible he stepped back, licking his fingers and murmuring in content with your taste. The fact that he did that for himself, not just to tease you, was enough for the heat on the pit of your stomach to come back as strong as before, having to fight the urge to throw your ass back at him again.

Before you could actually do it, he stood up and helped you to climb off your heels. He held you by your hips and spinned you around, planting a kiss on your forehead. He smirked when we saw this tie still properly stuffed on your mouth and took it off “Good girl.” he winked, leaning to kiss you on your partially numb mouth. His praise made you unconsciously push your hips against his, feeling his hardened crouch poking your lower back. The evidence of what you’ve done to him gave you pride and confidence, all you needed to take control of the situation – at least as much as he was willing to give you.

“Come to my room” you whispered, looking at him with your eyes slightly wide “I wanna ride you on my brand new bed” you blinked, a smug expression on your face. He seemed lost for a second, recomposing himself almost immediately and pulling you tight against his chest.

You stood up, trying as hard as you could to keep composed with your wobbly legs, and guided him to your bedroom. He stepped in, his attentive eyes scanning the place at first, like he wanted to understand it – understand you. Having arrived in the city only a few days ago, you didn’t have time to properly decorate the place. Except for a few pieces of furniture, your book collection and the queen sized bed with mahogany coloured sheets, the apartment hadn’t had time to absorb your extravagant personality – yet.

The sight of Aaron in his tailored suit, fully dressed – besides the discarded tie in the dining room – standing in your dark and feminine room made your breath hitch. Recomposing yourself, you stepped closer to him, pulling further into your room, and kissed him, languidly and thirsty, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and pushing down his shoulders. He let go of your waist and let the fabric slide down his arms, and you latched onto them to feel his firm biceps flexing with the force of his grip now on your breasts. His calloused hand doing wonders to your sensitive flesh, squeezing and massaging them skillfully. You yelped when he pinched your nipples, feeling his grin against your lips.

You hurried to unbutton his dress shirt and almost yelped in joy when heard the clicking metal of his belt being undone. In a mess of kisses, bites and hands, he took his clothes off, keeping the boxers.

You stepped back from the kiss and glanced down, your fingers grazing his defined torso, feeling and hearing his breath hitch with your gentle touch. The lights of the city didn’t illuminate much, but it was enough for you to see the dark hairs and scars spread along his body, making you want to know him better and understand where which of them came from.

Any elaborated thought dissipated as soon as your eyes focused on the volume of his boxers, his hardened, thick and voluptuous transpiring power from under the thin cotton fabric. When your hand wrapped him, still over his underwear, he grunted and let his head fall against yours, breathing heavily.

“Can I ride you, Aaron? I want it so bad, please” you purred, your voice hoarse from desire while looking at him through your lashes. 

He was doomed.

“Fuck.” he whispered, loving being manipulated by you. He slides his boxers down, and when his dick sprung out of it, its red and swollen tip leaking with precum, you thought you were dreaming. You couldn’t hold yourself back and wrapped your hand around it, squeezing him tightly. He groaned, pushing you back and climbing on your bed. He half laid on the head of your bed, his upper back leaning against the bed frame. His head tilted backwards, his large hand massaging his thick dick, staring at you with dark and lustful eyes. The sight was engraved in your brain forever. “Aren’t you coming?”

You laughed, climbing on the bed and crawling to him in a feline gaze. You stopped between his open legs, his thick thighs and powerful making you look even smaller. You kneeled in front of him, taking his dick off his hands and mimicking his gestures. His eyes fluttered close, his lips pressed tightly together. It wasn’t your intention – at least not now – but you ended up leaning down and pressing a wet kiss on his tip, making his eye shot open with surprise and pleasure.

You licked his length – and what a length – not leaving any inch untouched. His breathing was already unsteady, his eyes fighting a battle to keep open, alternating between your eyes and your mouth and the wonders you were doing to him.

“I have other plans for you tonight” you smiled, sitting up and getting a condom on your bedside table. You skillfully opened the package and handed it to him, who nimbly placed on himself, his gaze locked on yours so vividly that could –and maybe should – scare you. If your expression didn’t match his.

He pulled you in as if you weighed nothing, placing you on his lap. You hoovered over his dick, biting your lower lip in anticipation. You held him steady, directing him on your wet cunt. Looked deeply into his eyes, you lowered slowly, feeling every single inch of his invade and stretch you. Both of you groaned loudly at the contact, fighting against the please to keep your gazes locked together.

“Fuck…” he swore “So fucking tight” he groaned, gripping your hips so tightly you were sure – and hopeful – it would leave marks. “So big… You’re so big. Stretching me.” you moaned unreasonably, just saying whatever crossed your mind. He squeezed you tighter. When you sinked down completely, taking all of him inside you, he gritted his teeth. “Christ” he managed to whisper between his teeth. Not easing even slightly up his death grip on your hips, he started to move you. Not up and down, back and forth. Grinding you against himself, his dick deep and greedy inside you. The friction so delicious and dangerous.

“Good god, Aaron” you moaned, digging your nails on the flesh of his shoulders “So… so good” you managed between pants. “Mhmm” he agreed, looking at you so intensively while you followed his directions, rubbing against him forcefully. You were so wet your juices started to drip, wetting his pubic as well. You started to move faster, too close to your second climax. He helped you move with one hand, guiding your movements and murmuring praises and commands while you grunted, moaned and begged – nothing of it making any sense – while you chased your high. With the other hand, he played with your nipples, your head tilted back and your chest arched on his face, like you were offering yourself for him to take you as he wanted to.

“Look at me, I want you looking at me when I make you come again” he ordered and you – slightly pathetically, honestly – compiled immediately. Staring deeply into his eyes you came undone, your whole body shaking while he took over your movements, helping you ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

When you climbed off your high, he didn’t stop. On the contrary, he changed movements, making you bounce on him “Aaron… too much…” you pleaded with gritted teeth. “Oh yeah? Do you want me to stop?” he offered in a mocking tone, knowing damn well you didn’t. In response you just kept moving, bouncing on his thick dick with the help of his thrusting and his grip on your hips. He chuckled, evil “I knew it. Desperate for me, for my cock. You’re going to limp your way for your brand new job. What will your boss think of you?” he teased, despite his voice being just as hoarse as yours. The feeling of it all was so much – him hitting so deep in you was so strong, the sting on your legs from moving so much, and the knot forming in the pit of your stomach once again – that you couldn’t think straight, even if you wanted so badly to talk back.

You leaned forward, kissing him again. The new angle made him hit even deeper, making you both moan loudly with pleasure. Aaron pushed his legs up, his feet on the bed giving him more impulse to thrust into you harder into your cervix, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer.

He grabbed your face, pressing your mouth against his ears, in a silent plea for you to moan directly to him, not wanting to let any of the pretty sounds you made go to waste. With his other hand, he gripped the flash of your ass, pulling you tight against him, guiding your movements to sync with his, bouncing hardly on his dick.

“I’m close… S-So close…” you warned him, between moans and bites on his earlobe. “Fuck. Give it to me” he demanded, keeping up with his movements until he felt your thirst and strongest orgasms. You clenched around him so tight he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own climax even if he wanted to. You came together riding out your orgasms, relishing in each other’s sounds, trying as much as possible to extend the sensation.

Maybe if you weren’t so tired, you wouldn’t have slept together. Or woken up together, both of your alarms ringing at six am. Too little time slept, but – oh, so – worth it.

–

“Come on, Hotch is waiting.” Penelope Garcia, member of the BAU with whom you had talked during the bureaucratic part of your transfer, welcomed you at the lobby. You had small conversation on your way around the place, her warm and excited energy refreshing you after the few hours of rest “You’ll love him! Well, he’s going to be your boss so not love-love. I mean, I love-love him, but we work together for years. It’s more of a father and daughter love. Not that I see him as a father figure, I really don’t but.. I’m rambling. Oh, we’re here!” he said, squealing in excitement, while giving you a toothy grin. You couldn’t say you were as excited as she was, but it was impossible not to be at least a little bit happier after talking to her.

Penelope knocked on the door, looking back at you expectantly. 

“Come in” you heard a voice muffled by the door separating you. 

She opened it delicately, stepping in first and stopping by the door “Sir, she’s here.” “Oh, yes. Let her in.” he said, standing up and fixing his already perfectly suit.

When you stepped into his office, it was like the world stopped spinning. You felt like you were having a stroke, refusing to believe that your boss, A. Hotchner was the same Aaron from the night before. 

You slept with your boss.

He gave you three glorious orgasms the night before.

And another one the morning after – just a couple hours ago, if you will.

Un-fucking-believable.

Apparently he thought so too, since his look altered frantically between you, Penelope and the window that led to the bullpen, like this was just a sadic prank his team pulled on him. He called your full name in a questioning tone – just to make sure it wasn’t.

“Yes” you nodded, sounding much more steady than you were actually feeling. His movements faltered for half a second. Not too long that Penelope could pick up what was happening, but enough for you to realize he was just as surprised as you.

“Aaron Hotchner.” he stepped closer, firmly shaking your hand “Let’s get started?” 

It was going to be a long meeting.

pt 2 here

@stormyskies-writes with the amazing prompts!!

[meowdei]

part two

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

john green quit tumblr because of the cock monologue

No, he didn’t.

This all happened a long time ago, and my memory is imperfect, but here’s my memory: The cock monologue certainly hurt my feelings! But when people are trying to force someone out of a virtual space, they sometimes resort to behavior that is similar to bullying except it’s not completely identical to bullying because the person they’re making fun of has a lot of power. (As someone who got bullied a lot in school, the feeling was similar in 2014 but it wasn’t identical--because I was aware of the fact that I was okay, that what was in danger was certain aspects of my identity/self-value that I treasured but not my entire personhood itself.)

Anyway, it hurt my feelings, and still hurts my feelings when I see it shared (it feels to me like a joke about my sexuality, although I understand other people don’t see it that way; but yeah, you don’t know much about my sexuality and I don’t really want you to but it feels like a joke about that to me, which just bums me out). 

But all of that stuff is a side effect of my job and having been successful at it, and I like my job. It is a great job. All jobs have aspects that suck. My job has fewer such aspects than other jobs I’ve had.

So yeah, I did not quit tumblr because of the cock monologue. (I also did not ask tumblr to make reblogs un-editable.) .

I quit tumblr because a few people started to make extremely specific threats. One might, for instance, send me an ask that featured a google streetview screenshot of my home alongside a plan for breaking into it.

I was super scared of these people (or possible person pretending to be a few people?) because they seemed to have a lot of knowledge about me and my family. We lived in a normal middle-class neighborhood in Indianapolis and I felt very exposed and nervous all the time in my real life, and eventually the freaked-out feeling just got too big and that’s why I quit tumblr.

(Edited to add: I am aware that prominent people sometimes use death threats against them to portray themselves as victims and protect themselves against justified criticism for their bigotry or abusive behavior or whatever. I don’t want to do that; it’s important to note that I have a lot of resources and power and so was able to, for instance, move to decrease the threat, which a lot of people can’t do. But I also feel like not talking about the experience honestly has not really helped me or anyone.)

I SHOULD’VE quit tumblr much earlier--I needed to realize that people weren’t comfortable with me in their virtual spaces and that to them I came across as cringey or even creepy, but at the time, I wasn’t nearly self-aware enough to leave for any of those reasons, and plus there was a lot of pressure from movie studios etc to stay on the social Internet so I could continue to promote my books and the stuff around them. So I didn’t quit when I should’ve, and as a result had and caused quite a few negative experiences for people. I’m sorry about the role I had in causing those negative experiences. I should’ve had a better understanding of not just how I experienced myself but also how other people might experience me. That’s something i’ve worked on over the years but still come up short on sometimes.

At any rate, I might delete this later because it makes me feel a bit like all my nerves are exposed to the air but I did just want to clarify that the, like, Tumblr Legend of this whole thing is at minimum a bit over simplified. 

[queenofbaws]

hey friendos - hoping to be able to get back into flash fiction weekends soon, but until then, here's another lil' bump of what i've been working on in the background <3

hope the weekend is treating you kindly so far 🥰

before the dawn, a bad moon rising an(other) Until Dawn/The Quarry crossover by TheIcyQueen

After losing his sisters to a tragic accident exactly one year ago, Josh Washington invites his “friends” to his family’s lodge for a party they’ll never forget. No one, he swears, NO ONE, is going to have a worse time up on that mountain than they will. …except for the hunters stuck in the shadows, doing their damnedest to kill the ravenous beast stalking every move they make. THEY’LL probably have a pretty bad time. That’s a lot of kids to watch, after all, and they keep splitting up! And fighting! And screaming! And, uh…what’s with all the dead pigs lying around? On second thought, maybe it’d be easier to just let the kids die. (A reimagining of Until Dawn where everyone’s favorite flamethrower guy, Jack “The Stranger” Fiddler, has some backup: The Hackett brothers. Surely this won’t end poorly for anyone involved! Surely!!!)

Read on AO3!

[hohuios]

Tag drop: 1/2

[miedei]

on neurotransmitters and receiving pleasure.

you can't sleep, and spencer takes it upon himself to explain (and enact) how he can help.

cw: fem!reader, established relationship, smut, fingering, lots and lots of hormone talk, slighttt overstim, spencer is hot and gets blue balls but he's too obsessed w you to care

a/n: taking a class that involves a lot of memorising hormones and was thinking about spencer explaining it <33 im also just a sucker for intimate sleepy smut sue me, first proper smut fic!

wc: 2.2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Dating Spencer Reid has been decidedly wonderful. He’s sweet, and above all else, attentive. Only a few months into your relationship, he’s somehow learned more about you than you thought was possible, putting that knowledge to good use.

It began with simple things like knowing your coffee order by heart, and remembering the names of your family members after you brought them up. However, it quickly became far deeper than that. He would be bringing oranges to your apartment when you’d gone through a stretch of cold after cold, making sure you don’t run out of the very specific brand of candles you like. You name it, he’s learned it and utilised it for you.

However, a side effect of his perceptive actions is that you feel horribly guilty about taking up too much of his time. He’s so busy, his job and friends and mother are so important to him, that you’re loath to take him away from the things he loves. As a result, you find yourself falling into the insecure trap of making yourself as little a burden as possible, trying to ensure that the things he does for you are because he wants to, not because you need him to. 

That’s part of what’s led you here, laying next to him in his far-too-comfortable bed, wide awake. 

By all accounts, you should be fast asleep at this point. It’s nearing two am, the curtains drawn so there’s only a soft glow of moonlight coming into the room. Spencer’s left arm is laid over your middle, fingers twitching occasionally to stroke the skin exposed by your (his) shirt riding up. You’re set up for the perfect night of sleep with your perfect boyfriend, but for some reason your mind will not shut up.

Your thoughts are racing from place to place, flitting around like an overexcited butterfly. The interaction you had at the local cafe this morning, the project you’re working on at work, the movie you watched with Spencer a few hours ago, the comfort of the heat radiating from his body. 

Letting a soft grumble of frustration escape your lips, you shift, turning to press your back against Spencer’s chest in a vain attempt to use his body warmth to lull you to sleep. Instead, you wind up thinking about him. Him and his pretty eyes, his lips, his hands, one of which is now resting over your stomach. 

Great. Now you’re never falling asleep. 

You decide to call it, wracking your brain on how to get out of his hold so you can at least wallow in your self pity in the living room without waking him up. Slowly shuffling out from under his arm seems to be the best option, at least to your sleep-deprived brain.

Slowly inching over the mattress, his hand drags over your skin, the slackness of his body allowing you to maneuver yourself halfway out of his grip, when suddenly his hand comes to life, fingers digging softly into your stomach.

“Wh’s going on?” His voice is deeper than it ever is, a slight rasp rattling through his slurred words, which only serves to wake you up further. 

You cringe internally, bringing a hand up to cover his. 

“Nothing, Spence. Just going into the living room.” He lets out a sleepy groan, attaching himself solidly to your back so there’s no chance of you leaving.

“Why? What happened?” His voice is slowly becoming more clear, lucidity returning to him quicker than you can attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 

“I’m fine, nothing happened. Just couldn’t fall asleep, is all.”

He hums softly, the vibrations reverberating against the back of your head. You can feel him waking up, lips moving against your hair.

“What’s wrong? Can’t stop thinking?” You bite back a groan. Of course he knows what’s wrong, even minutes after waking up. Turning in his arms, you bury your face in his chest, mumbling a plaintive yeah. 

His hand comes up to play with your hair, the soothing feeling bringing a sense of calm you haven’t had in hours.

“What have you tried? Maybe not counting sheep, because a study at Oxford proved that to be unhelpful, but visualising calm scenes apparently helps.” You shake your head, face still pressed against his sternum.

“Tried it. Didn’t work.” 

He lets out a small, reassuring sound that sends shivers down your spine. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

You lay there for a while, but sleep never comes to take you. You’re sure he must be sleepy, but he stays awake, speaking after a long fifteen minutes of silence.

“Hey… Do you want my help?”

Poking your head up to see his face, you question him. 

“Help me sleep? How’re you going to do that?” He tilts his head down, and you can just make out the brown of his eyes as he looks at you.

“Orgasms have been proven to be very effective in putting someone to sleep. Y’want me to?” He speaks casually, as if he’s not suggesting anything out of the ordinary. You, however, lose all composure, flushing immediately.

“Spence, I— You’re tired.” He tilts his head to the side, and you observe his eyes sharpen in that unexplainable way they do whenever you’re especially intimate with each other.

“I’m not too tired. Not for you.” It’s like he wants you to melt for him. You can’t help but duck your head, a mortified squeak escaping your lips. He chuckles quietly, hand smoothing the hair at the back of your head as he waits for you to reply.

It takes a few minutes for you to pipe up.

“Do you… Does it really help?” 

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“It should. I can explain it to you while I do, if you want.” It takes a beat, but you’re nodding, craning your head up so you can kiss him. 

“Okay, baby. Lay back for me? The supine position should make it easier for you, and it’s the best way for you to sleep after if you don’t want neck pain.”

As he speaks, his hand shifts, gripping your waist softly as he helps you lay back against the pillows. He props himself up with an elbow, so he’s hovering slightly next to you. His hand smooths down the fabric of your pyjama top, rubbing soft circles against your stomach with his thumb.

“Sleep deprivation can be caused by a lot of things. Stress, changes in schedules, intake of caffeine.” It shouldn’t be attractive. It really shouldn’t, but you can’t help but let out a shuddering sigh as he speaks, kissing your neck between words. His lips are soft, moulding to the sensitive skin there with reverence that makes you giddy.

His hand begins to move, tracing its way down your front, past your pelvis until it settles on your thigh. There it stays, making broad, sweeping motions on your upper thigh that make you want to squirm. 

“Spence…”

He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to the column of your throat before pulling back so he can look at you.

“I’m going to get there, don’t worry.” 

You curse at him in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to make a sound at the moment. Not when his hand is moving dangerously close to the hem of your shorts. 

At first contact with the linen material, he pauses the motions, lingering there to play with the fabric. Bending your neck, you watch him, enraptured by the minute movements of his nimble fingers, skin hardened by years of holding his gun. Even the sight of it has you sighing, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

The air is thick around you as he slips his hand under the fabric, softly kneading at your inner thighs, only centimetres away from where you need him most. Your hips move without your go ahead, arching down in an attempt to get him closer. The movement doesn’t do anything to get him there, but it clearly causes him to take pity on you. 

A smile breaks out on his lips, and he kisses your jaw once before letting his fingers trail up to your core. You flush at the feeling of your wetness on his hand, but he lets out a soft groan, eyes trained down at the bulge of his hand under your shorts. 

“Oh, angel…” 

You can’t reply, shuddering breaths racking through your body as his fingers trace up and down your drooling slit. It’s overwhelming, the teasing glimpses of pleasure rolling over you until all you can perceive is him. 

“You know, sleep deprivation can lead to things like loss of libido. Your circadian rhythms are actually really important to keeping your sex drive steady.” 

His middle finger trails up, brushing soft touches against your clit, and you arch your back in response, a soft moan pulling itself from the back of your throat.

“It can be a bit of a vicious cycle, loss of sleep and loss of sex drive. But getting yourself back on track can help with both aspects of your life.”

He moves away from your clit, eliciting a whine that has him kissing your chin in apology. It’s quickly forgotten when the slick-covered digit is slipping into you, the sudden fullness making you squirm against the sheets. 

It’s slow, his finger thrusting lazily into you as you pant into the room. Your hands grapple for purchase in the sheets beneath you, your left brushing his free hand. Snatching it up, he helps you stay afloat as the heat bubbles up inside you.

“Arousal and orgasms induce release of the hormones dopamine and oxytocin. Dopamine is received at different receptors in your body, making you feel comfortable and happy. It’s strongly connected to our reward systems.”

His hand not currently occupied with you brings your hand up to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm as his thumb seeks out your clit, swiping over the sensitive point with practiced precision. It causes you to let out a low, keening moan that encourages him further, his voice gravelly as he continues to speak.

“Oxytocin is released into your bloodstream by the pituitary gland, and is linked with our feelings of love. It’s part of what binds us to our loved ones. It’s controlled by a positive feedback loop, so the more you feel pleasure from it and other stimulants, just like that, the more that’s released.” He pauses to watch you contort with rapture, hips bucking against him as he inserts another finger into you. 

You can’t see him, eyes screwed shut with pleasure, but you can imagine him well enough. 

His eyes are still hazy with sleepiness, but the glaze of adoration that settles over him whenever he has you like this is surely there too. His hair is messy, falling all over him, but you know he won’t do anything about it, too focused on the task at hand. 

“An orgasm will also lower your cortisol levels. That means that you’ll feel less stressed and preoccupied, which should help you sleep.”

You feel a little insane, his low voice sending you hurtling towards greater pleasure. It seems it doesn’t matter what he’s saying, whenever Spencer speaks to you like that, you can’t help but be putty in his hands. 

He falls silent now, kissing you once before fixing his intent gaze on you, and you know he’s determined to get you there. His thumb is perfectly synchronized with the two fingers still moving steadily in and out of you, a routine he’s perfected over countless moments just like this one. 

He knows steadiness is what gets you over that last hurdle. His hand never falters, the feeling of his calloused fingers dragging against the most intimate parts of your body causing you to puff out shallow gasps. You feel like you’re floating, the feelings so overwhelming that you barely register the feeling of the sheets rustling under your body. 

It keeps going, going, going until it happens. One final circle of his thumb against your clit and you fall apart, a cry of his name ringing out in the silence of the room. He doesn’t let up, fingers thrusting lazily in you until you’re whimpering, pushing his forearm with weak hands. 

Pulling his hand out of your shorts, he leans over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue to clean his fingers. Once done, he settles back next to you, pulling the covers snugly under your chin and pulling you toward him. One of his arms lays under your neck, letting you nose into his side and exhale softly.

He’s saying something, voice velvety and comforting, but you can’t register any of it. The chemicals in your brain are swirling pleasantly, and you’re asleep before you can even think about it.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

chapter three is now posted!

Title: Four Walls

Tags: Slow burn, domesticity friends to lovers, smut, pining, post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[victoryai]

SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL HOUSES

You can reblog↪️ but please have the decency not to steal 🚫 my work.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 1ST HOUSE: This year's focus is doubled on you. This year is almost like taking a journey back to the year you were born. This year has your name written on it. It's going to be easy for you as you'll feel so much in your own skin. This is a year to solidify your life purpose.

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 2ND HOUSE:This wonderful year (with more favourable positions) is pointing to an increment in your finances, wealth and self esteem. If afflicted, it may be pointing to financial losses. If your planning to change your diet or eat more healthy , then go for it this year. You'll see the changes

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 3RD HOUSE: This nervous 😆 year is bringing forth more school work to you 😂. It's inviting a lot of movement. You might have a new sibling too. I had this the year when my lil sis was born. I also wrote a major exam and became a senior in 🎒 school that year and was learning new courses. You're always on the go. Stay away from crazy gossip with friends pls 😂

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 4TH HOUSE: This year ahead shows a lot of staying indoors. I had this when I was 2 so I was always with My Momma and indoors too. Where else would a two year old child be? 😂. If you're grown already you might spend more time with a lot of extended family members. If afflicted it might show issues at home. You might buy a new house or reconnect with family more😊

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 5th house . This year you might get pregnant 😮 so take it easy 😉. If you're looking for love (more casually)there's a 70% chance you'll get it. if your a parent already, focus on your kids pls. It might also be a year you decide to take things light and fun . However it might also indicate that your taking a short time educational course. If you love Casinos, you're likely to bag 💰 it this year. Go baby!

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 6TH HOUSE: I see that someone here needs to start developing good habits and taking extra care of your health. Pls avoid getting into conflicts or court cases. You might be if service to persons who need help. If you're a doctor or health worker expect more in your plate. You need to be clean this year 😮‍💨

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 7TH HOUSE: So chessy 😊, yet so unlike you. For most people, this will indicate a new love affair or meeting the one 💘, being a spec, random compliment from strangers. For those that are married, take care of your spouse and marriage too. For a few , it could make you uncomfortable 😣 because you're sitting in the house of other people who are so different from you. You might not understand yourself lol.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 8TH HOUSE: This year is exploring your natal 8th house. With a year like this there's a chance of entering into a joint account or business with someone else. Make Sure you can trust that person. You might also receive large amount of shares or inheritance . When this year ends you could be richer or poorer. If you're considering surgery, you might go ahead this year.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 9TH HOUSE: 😋 This seems to me like someone is about to travel and stay away for a long time. Matters of education also arise too. You might start or finish college. The year I had this, I travelled and started going to college . You just want to explore the world and meet new minds. Religion is also highlighted.

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 10TH HOUSE: This year is about your job and your boss. Your energy is directed towards your job. You might also become famous. Get an increment or promotion. Become a role model for many too. Its going to be a year packed with responsibility too

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 11TH HOUSE: Those midnight wishes seem to be coming true😇. Those long term goals manifesting. You might be very different and innovative this year, maybe you become more interested in technology. Make more friends. Do something online and become famous.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 12TH HOUSE: 😭😭😭The year I had this , it seemed like some bad luck just followed me. I had a few losses too(not financially tho) I almost fell into depression but I'm glad I didn't. I started to learn astral projection. I was surprised that I easily let go of addiction too😊. If you're familiar with this house it wouldn't be hard for you

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader

summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."

Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.

The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.

When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.

You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"

Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."

On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"

"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'

"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"

Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"

You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!

Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.

Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.

Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"

You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"

"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.

Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.

He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?

You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."

"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"

"Tell me yours first," you reply.

"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.

"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."

Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"

Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.

By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!

He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"

The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.

Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."

He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"

It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"

"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.

"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."

You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"

"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"

"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.

Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."

"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.

"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.

"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.

You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"

He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."

"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.

The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.

"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.

The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"