#not like as an intended reading but being reminded of it too lmao

[rottmnt-residuum]

Don't know if it is intended (or asked about before), but I can't help but think of the saying 'See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil' when I look at the title page. Mikey is covering his eyes, Leo's mouth is hidden and Donnie has his ears covered.

[goldenspringmornings]

ya know for a fandom that is screaming from the rooftops that the books are ‘dark fantasy’ they sure do complain about people taking those darker elements at face value or even god-forbid exploring them

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?��, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[ghostofthepresent]

Why I think Shiguang can be canonically read as romantic

(I will only be using the donghua for reference, so no Studio Lan retweeting those fanarts (lmao) nor those especially gay manhwa panels (lmao x2) nor even the songs ("chase you to the end of the world, just to say your name once more" my beloved).

It's important to start off by saying that I'm aware Director Li said they ended up not making Lu Guang a girl because they didn't want romance to be seen as a must in Shiguang's relationship by the audience (and because he feels that "bros can have a good heart-to-heart connection with each other"). In my opinion that was a great move since it allows more freedom with how they write them than they'd have otherwise. I also think viewing Shiguang as queerplatonic is a great read too and it doesn't diminish their love for each other nor the importance of their relationship at all.

With that said, despite Director Li's words, there's been things that had me going 🤨 as someone who likes to adhere to canon relationships and read into the writer's intentions, so I wanted to share why I personally see them as romantic.

EPISODE 2

We've all seen this coming, right? Most obvious parallel ever, and in the second episode no less. We all know the similarities between both relationships, so I will just touch on those I consider the most important ones.

Lin Zhen and Yu Xia have gone to college together, and since then decided to start a business of their own - named after a mix of their names. They've been shown as being really close and having no romantic relationships. Lin Zhen also says that Yu Xia's happiness is her own, and then it's shown to us that she's gone through years of unhappiness just for Yu Xia. I believe you can replace their names with Lu Guang's and Cheng Xiaoshi's in your head without me writing all this again. And I'm not even going to get into the most obvious parallels like the special noodle recipe for each pair.

I think it's safe to say that Lin Zhen and Yu Xia are implied to be romantic. From that "one noodle" scene, to the close shot of Lin Zhen grabbing her hand, etc.

Now, I want to get into a writer's point of view and pose two questions:

1. What's the purpose of this episode, when even those which seem episodic connect to the overarching plot of season 1 (even the missing kid's case, as it leads to the involvement with the police)?

2. If we answer the previous question with the conclusion that it's meant to show us the nature/development of Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's relationship, what does that say about it?

"Partner" in Link Click

Continuing with episode 2, what really got me thinking about the romantic intentions in their writing was the constant mention of marriage and anything in relation to it.

(may I remind everyone that the driver's comment was said when Cheng Xiaoshi was complaining about Lu Guang lmao)

They're telling us through "show don't tell" (for example, when Lin Zhen kept on eating the noodle despite knowing they'd kiss) and, also, connotations. They are presented to us as business partners, but then the entire episode goes on to tell us that there's more to them by tying their relationship to things percived as romantic. So what they want to really tell us is that beyond simple business partners, they're life-long partners.

And then, after establishing this kind of connotation to the word partner, Cheng Xiaoshi says this to Lu Guang in the next episode:

This doesn't stop at them. While it's the most obvious example, I think partnership in Link Click is intended to be seen as romantic, or at the very least dancing somewhere close to it. Let's go even further and take a look at our fully canon, heterosexual relationships and see briefly how their story is written:

1. Dong Yi and Xu Shanshan: both of them chose the comfort of each other's presence over moving on with their respective futures. Dong Yi had so much faith in their relationship and their love that he couldn't choose a life/future that didn't have Xu Shanshan - choosing to not go back to his family home nor go to that interview, and instead waiting for Xu Shanshan to define their relationship.

2. Liu Siwen and Ouyang: Siwen spent his entire life training with the purpose of getting his father-in-law's respect and marry Ouyang, going every year over and over to fight him. His perseverance and his undying love for her allowed Siwen to do the (seemingly) impossible.

3. Chen Bin and his wife: they're a tragedy. His wife understood Chen Bin the best, enduring feeling lonely because she loved him and wanted a future with him. But their relationship was cut short, so they promised each other to be together in a future life to make up for the time they wouldn't be in this one.

With this + the pictures I attached, it seems like Link Click has set this theme of "love is a life with you" for its romantic relationships, a partner that will fight to stay because they can't see a future that doesn't have their beloved. Going back to episode two, this applies even to the noodle ladies. When Yu Xia remembered what actually matters to her, she went back home - to the start, to her hometown. And, most importantly, to Lin Zhen.

So why is Shiguang romantic? Why aren't they queerplatonic, or just best friends, or bros or whatever else? Because besides what I said at the start of the previous paragraph, Shiguang's relationship mirrors a lot of the romantic ones. Each story and author writes romance and other kinds of relationships differently, portraying them in the way they perceive "this is what this kind of love is like". And beyond life-long partners, I think that the key elements of romantic relationships in Link Click are the ones I highlighted in bold above in the 3 canon relationships part - which Shiguang shares, too.

(I didn't mention this before with the het couples, but I find it a little amusing that season 2 happened because a man wanted to go to the past and get his wife back (still fuck you Qian Jin) and then we find out Lu Guang did go back to the past and got his boyfriend partner back lmao).

"Friend" vs "Partner"

So where is the boundary between platonic and romantic? What marks the difference between a (best) friend and a partner?

There is, for example, Liu Xiao and Li Tianchen's relationship. They aren't shown to have any kind of romantic undertones and there's even the very real possibility of manipulation on Liu Xiao's side. They're also never labeled as nor call each other partners, but instead Li Tianchen says he "met a new friend" and Liu Xiao says he's "going to meet an old friend" years later. So we could say for now that they have a somewhat close relationship (we see Li Tianchen go against Qian Jin to give the phone to Liu Xiao), but never cross that "friend" label.

We can even bring Qiao Ling and the boys' relationship. She's never labeled as a partner despite taking part in the side job and, more importantly, being super close to both of them. She is very important and a cherished friend to Shiguang, so why not call her partner too? I think it's intentional. Since she's been given a familial role already (calling Cheng Xiaoshi her brother when talking to Li Tianxi), she can't fill a partner role. I wonder why? because it's supposed to be a synonym for a romantic relationship. who said that.

So even best friends (Qiao Ling, arguably what Liu Xiao is to Li Tianchen) don't enter this close space that is being a partner. It's different, it's beyond platonic. Or at least that's what they've been showing us for the past two seasons.

I could go soo much more into this honestly, because I do think the little hints thrown here (the music videos) and there (tiny seemingly inconsequential details) are worth to be looked at too, but I wanted to get into the core reason that makes me go "woah so they're In Love fr". I hope I expressed myself well ^^

tldr; the series shows us a divide between having a (best) friend and a partner, giving "partners" romantic connotations.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[mushynka]

Okay. This is my first fic ever so please read this 🫶

This story is intended for mature audiences (18+). Please note that English is not my first language, so there might be some language errors or awkward phrasing in the text sometimes. Feel free to correct me in the comments. I am still learning english so pls. try not to make too much fun out of me. Additionally, this story may not strictly follow the events as depicted in Marvel films or comics and contains creative deviations. I kindly ask that you do not copy or redistribute my work without permission. Yes. I know it's cringe lmao. Enjoy anyway!

Title: "Building a Future"

Words: "3000" (idk exactly)

Characters: Logan Howlett (Origins) x Fem. reader

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the cabin’s rustic interior. You sat by the fire, the soft light from the flames dancing across the room, your legs tucked underneath you. The storm outside was fierce—rain pelted the windows, and the wind howled through the trees surrounding the cabin. It was the kind of night that invited quiet moments, the kind where the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you.

Logan, or Wolverine as most people called him, sat opposite you, sharpening one of his knives with a focused expression. He had removed his shirt hours ago, the heat from the fire mixing with the thick layers of tension in his muscles. You couldn’t help but admire the way the flickering light highlighted the intricate scars that lined his chest and arms—reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought, both external and internal.

He glanced up from his work, catching you staring. His lips twitched in a half-smile, a familiar teasing look in his dark eyes.

"What?" he grumbled, though there was no real irritation in his voice. "You don’t need to be that fascinated by my scars. I’m not exactly a masterpiece."

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking toward him. "Maybe not, but I find them... telling," you said, sitting down beside him. "They show your story. Your history."

Logan sighed, leaning back against the armrest of the chair, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours. "It’s a history I’d rather forget sometimes."

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His arms, though tough and weathered, still felt reassuring, like home. Logan’s past had always been a complicated subject between you two, and you knew it wasn’t something he opened up about easily. But you didn’t mind. You were patient. You understood that not everything needed to be spoken for it to be real.

The silence between you stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet where two people could simply exist together, where being with someone was enough, even if the world outside seemed chaotic and uncertain.

"You ever think about... the future?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shifting as if he were preparing for something difficult. "The future," he muttered, staring into the fire. "Not much use in thinking about it. It always seems out of reach."

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Logan had lived a life of endless turmoil, and thinking about a future—about stability, about peace—was a luxury he’d never had. The idea of planning for something long-term seemed almost laughable to him. But you could sense that, deep down, there was a part of him that longed for it.

"I think about it," you admitted, turning your head to meet his eyes. "I think about us... a future where we don’t have to hide, where we don’t have to fight every day."

Logan’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. "You mean, like... kids? Family?" he asked, his voice hesitant, as though the word was foreign to him.

You smiled gently, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. I don’t know. It’s just a thought. But... I want a family. Maybe not now, but eventually. I want us to have something real."

The idea hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise, delicate and fragile. Logan shifted uncomfortably, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

"You know my... situation," he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. "I’m not exactly father material."

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "Logan," you whispered, "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. You’ve already proven how much you care."

He turned his hand over to hold yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers in contrast to your softer skin. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if reassuring himself that this moment wasn’t a dream.

"I’m not sure I’m built for that kind of life," Logan admitted, his voice rough but tender. "I’ve never really had the chance to think about it."

You leaned in, your lips brushing the side of his neck as you whispered, "You don’t have to decide now. Just... know that I’d be happy with whatever we build. Together."

For a long moment, Logan said nothing. But you could feel his body relax beside you, a slight exhale escaping his chest. He wasn’t saying yes. He wasn’t saying no. But for once, he wasn’t shutting down the possibility.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drifting in and out of a comfortable sleep, your head on his shoulder, your fingers laced with his. The rain began to slow, the winds calming to a gentle murmur. But the warmth between you two remained, a quiet promise of something that might one day be, even if it was only a distant hope.

[leighsartworks216]

This request is actually inspired by my fic I'm writing and I wanted to see your interpretation of the scene.

Tav is the daughter of a well known pirate, basically the black beard of Baldur's Gate, but after an attack that lead to her father and alot of the crews death she roamed Baldur's Gate until the mindflayer thing happened.

Currently, she and everyone are at a tavern, celebrating another successful quest and honestly still being alive when she hears a familiar song and she sees four old crew members (family) she thought was gone. What is your interpretation of the scene, how would Astarion would react to the news, and seeing her reuinte with her family?

I did not expect this to turn out as long as it did lmao

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)

Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing

Word Count: 2,123

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The tavern was lively and bustling on the evening you and your companions squeezed in, the sun beginning to paint the sky in dramatic colors as it sets. Almost instantly, your party's spirits are lifted - yours included.

Finding a table for 7 people is no easy feat, but you manage to snag one in the corner. Drinks were served around, jokes about the battle you’d just endured and old stories of lives before the Illithid threat fill the air with an easy camaraderie. It reminds you of your father's ship, of the crew that raised you. Thinking about them again left a bitter taste in your mouth. Astarion must have noticed the distant look in your eye. He reached under the table for your hand, interlacing your fingers easily, and trying to catch your eye.

You smile at him, but your eyes are still glazed over. “I’m just thinking about my family, is all,” you tell him, as though it’s as mundane as thinking of what one needs to get from the market to make dinner. You’d told him of your father, his crew, the ship - and what happened to it. It’s been months, but it’s still too fresh. You still wake up in the dead of night from visions of colossal waves that pull your head under, and screams cut short with the slice of a cutlass. “This… reminds me of them.”

He offers a concerned smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m flattered we remind you of drunken sailors,” he drawled sarcastically. It worked to get a laugh out of you, if nothing else.

“Drunken pirates,” you correct. He watches the smile slip, your eyes become distant once more, water pricking at the corners.

Astarion had a… complicated relationship with family. He couldn’t remember his parents, and the “family” Cazador provided were less-than-welcoming at best. As such, he never really knew how to comfort you in times like these. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone, really, but he wanted to try, at least.

“Gods,” you sigh, choked with emotion, “I miss those daft fools.” You lean your head against his shoulder. He maneuvers to wrap his arm around your middle, holding you close, and takes your hand again. “We used to celebrate like this,” you mumbled. His elven ears picked it up easily. “We’d drown the night in ale and groan about it in the morning. Played knife-throwing games as our visions start to spin and double. Sing songs at the top of our lungs, like screaming it would scare away any monster at sea.”

You sigh again. Though he can’t see your face, he can see when you use your free hand to wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

“Darling,” he hums, squeezing your hand, “we are technically in this together. Your burdens are mine and all that. In any case, you’ve carried all of our burdens, even when you didn’t have to. I’m only returning the favor.”

“Thank you.” You lift your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He grins, all too pleased with the simple affection you lavish on him. “Now, enough wallowing.” You clear your throat and grab your tankard. “This is a celebration. And I intend to be too drunk to walk before the night is out.”

He sighed dramatically, lifting his goblet of wine. “And I suppose I’ll be the one to carry you back to camp?”

You smirk up at him, a glint in your eye. Like this, he can imagine you as the pirate you are. Swashbuckling and taking down other ships, climbing up ropes to the top of the sails, peering out from the crow’s nest for any sign of adventure. Dry land did not suit you, he thought.

But then came the thoughts that always followed. If you did return to the sea, to your old life with a new crew, after these tadpoles are removed, he couldn’t follow. The only reason he’s safe from the sun and the burn of running water was because of the damned, wriggly things. He couldn’t follow you onto a ship to be locked away in confined cabins until night, or help if the waters chose to fold over the deck in great big waves, threatening to take down the vessel. He couldn’t have that life. Not with you.

Your head was thrown back, neck bobbing with each gulp of shitty ale. You did not see the pain on his features those thoughts brought him. He tossed back the last of his wine.

You stand and gather the empty mugs of your companions, bright-eyed and ready for round after round (Karlach only encourages this.), when something sounds across the tavern. It’s a rather large establishment, and the bustle of other patrons covers up everything. But it’s there. Loud and boisterous and-

You rush to step over the bench and find the source of the noise. Astarion frowns and chases after. He’s right on your tail as you push through drunkards with half-formed “Excuse me”s and “Coming through”s. As you get closer and closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s not just noise - it’s singing. A cacophony of voices all singing together.

You squeeze past a barmaid, nearly knocking the drinks from her hands, but the apology is lost when you see a table full of drunken pirates. One starts to take a swig mid-song, when his eyes land on you. He’s on his feet - Is that a peg leg? - in an instant, dropping the tankard carelessly to the table.

“Tav?” he gasps. The rest fall silent, turning around to see what the man was gawking at. They thought he was imagining it, as he’d done time and again since the attack. They all leapt up and rushed forward when you were more than a figment of their alcohol-addled minds.

Astarion was pushed aside as a horde of pirates surrounded you, hugging you and ruffling your hair and all speaking hurriedly with worry and joy. He can’t ignore the pain in his chest, as though someone had driven a stake through his heart. You hugged each one, misty eyed. Questions fell ceaselessly from your lips as you asked how they survived, what happened, what they’d been doing all this time. And he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. He could not hope to be more important than your family. He couldn’t be the one you chose - not when you’d recounted your friends with tales of the open ocean and your father’s crew for hours.

He quietly backed away. The others ask why you rushed off and what was happening when he returned to grab the bottle of wine. He wasn’t too sure what he said. He’d like to think it was some sort of “They found their family” said with a charming grin, and a simple, but believable, excuse to go back to camp not like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but like a vampire with things that need doing back at camp. Alone. With a bottle of wine.

Your eyes are red and your smile is about to burst off your face when you drag your pirate family over to meet your companions. You’re bouncing on your feet with energy, introducing everyone and nearly crying again when the pirates embrace everyone like family. Your heart is soaring when you look around for Astarion, searching around the table, the bar, the crowd. And it starts falling when you don’t see him anywhere.

“Hey, have any of you seen Astarion?”

Gale groaned as he was released from a bone-crushing hug. He winced as he held his shoulder. “He said he was heading back to camp.”

Your heart crashed firmly against hard cement, leaving cracks in the foundation. “Back to- Why? Did he say why?”

“No,” Shadowheart answered this time, trying not to get caught admiring the intricate braid of another crewmate. “He just took the wine and ran.”

The warm environment suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. Was he uncomfortable with your family? They were known to be rather callous and loud - maybe they’d scared him off? Was the idea of confronting their family just too stressful for him? Did it bring up unwanted memories? Why… Why did he run off?

You touch an older pirate’s arm, letting them know you’ll be right back. They smile and nod and pull you in for one last hug. It feels bittersweet. You dash off from the tavern back to camp.

When you arrive, he’s uncorking a second bottle of stolen alcohol, frowning and grumbling and pacing. He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you’re there until you say his name. He frowns deeply at you. “Shouldn’t you be catching up with your family?” he asks, but it’s bitter and cold.

You frown. “I wanted you to meet them. Why’d you leave?”

He looks away, focusing instead on taking a long drink from the bottle. It’s had no time to air out; he almost grimaces at the flavor. He pretends to read the label. “It was getting a little crowded in there,” he dismisses.

“So you leave without saying anything?”

“Well,” he begins, drawn-out and sarcastic, creating a barrier between you and his emotions, “you were busy. I’d hate to get in the way.”

You huff. “Astarion, please, just tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing.” He scowls. He begins pacing again. “Nothing’s wrong! You’ve found your family again! I’m so happy for you.” He spits the word like it burns him to say it.

“Is that what this is about? My family?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” you plead. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE!” He sighs at his outburst, glaring at the ground. His feet are locked to ground, refusing to move closer or further away - because he can’t decide which would be better. “Once this is over, once we figure out how to remove these tadpoles, you’re going to run back to the sea. To a ship, with your family. And I can’t follow.” He scowls at himself. He hates laying out his thoughts, his feelings. It feels too vulnerable. He feels exposed. “You won’t stay on land.”

You won’t stay with me.

A silent war wages on in your head and in your heart. You’re torn in two directions - forced to choose between the people who raised you, the last fragments of your father and his ship, or Astarion, your vampiric lover. It’s painful.

You step forward slowly, like he’s going to startle and run away like a frightened rabbit. He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t look at you. The bottle in his hand feels too heavy.

“I love my family,” you start. You can see in an instant as his walls come back up. His face, still upset and angry, becomes stoic and defensive. “And I love the sea.” You stop in front of him. “And I love you.”

He closes his eyes, prepared for the rejection.

“I… I had a whole life on the ocean.” Your fingers brush his hand. It twitches involuntarily, wishing to hold you, for just one last moment. When he doesn’t pull away, you tangle your fingers with his. “I want to see what a future on land would be like.”

He swallows. He opens his eyes, but he can’t look at you. He looks instead at your hand in his. “And when you decide a life on a ship is better than hiding in the shadows with me?”

You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He watches longingly.

“If I decide to sail again,” you accentuate your words with a kiss to the meat of his thumb, “I’ll come back. Over and over again. I’ll sail for a week and stay with you for a month. I’ll sail a month and stay with you a year. I love you, Astarion. And I will always choose you. And when we find a cure for vampirism, you can come with me.”

He huffs a laugh. “I’d be a poor excuse for a pirate.”

“You can scrub the deck.”

He finally meets your eyes with a playful scowl. It softens into something quiet and sad. “I don’t want to tear you from your family.”

You shake your head, stepping even closer. “You’re not, I promise. Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll be damned if I don’t keep in touch. But all they know is the sea. They have no reason to stay ashore - they’re heading out with a new captain next week.” You cup his cheek with your free hand. He sighs and leans into the touch. “I want to stay on land for a while longer.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @cherifrog

[clus444]

Love and Deepspace p2

Sylus x Black!reader (Ofc anyone can read)

I stand by this ending lmao. But i really didn't know how to end it. Anywaysss, enjoy!Slightly edited! ---------------------------------------------------

*NIP NIP NIP*

I groan as I shift my head to my window. I blink a few times to get the blurry spots out of my eyes.

*NIP NIP NIP*

"What the...," I sit up and huff," What," I zombie walk my way to open the window. I feel a light breeze pass through, close my eyes, and breathe in the air. (So dreamyy)

*Cawk Cawk* Mephisto hops up and down to get my attention. It's impatiently waving a paper between his little but sharp beak.

"It's too early for this amount of attitude," I grasp the paper from his beak, a little harsher than intended. The paper is an off-creme color, folded and wax-sealed, red with a crow-shaped pendant in the middle. Mephisto taps his beak on the window cill and turns his face to the side to focus his eye.

I hide the smile threatening to come out at Mephisto's actions. Despite his butt face of an owner, Mephisto can be good company. I stand up with my left knee cracking a little(It's a real problem.)I go to my kitchen, go straight to my drawers, and grab a quarter I had. I return to my bedroom and put the coin on the window sill," Now get off my property."

*CawkCawk*

  I sit on my bed and open the letter.

   -You've had time to calm down. Now, unblock me.

             -Sylus

   P.S. Forgiveness does not change the past, my love, but allow it to enlarge our future.

Rendition of Paul Boese

I scoff at whatever I just read. Space? I have no proof, but over this past week, I have felt someone's eyes on me when I'm walking home from work, or when I'm on a mission with Xavier, don't even remind me of when I had to meet up with the twins to get my stuff.

  I'll drop dead before I admit this to them but I will miss them. They always made me laugh, included me in things so I wouldn't feel left out, and picked up the pieces from some of Sylus and my earlier fights.

  I go through my morning routine, trying to give myself time to feel hungry to eat some breakfast. I'm going to get over Sylus. Whether It's to get under someone else or egg Sylus's house to get some petty revenge for my heart. I finish up in the bathroom and head downstairs for a light breakfast of fruit loops. I decide to be extra, adding strawberries and a little honey on the side.

  When I finish I almost cross the hallway to the living room but stop when a knock sounds. I head for the door and look through the peephole. Annoyance crawled up dug its way into my ass and burrowed in my head. " What do you want," I question Sylus's smug face at my door. He stops leaning on my door and walks me back into my house, closing the door with his foot as a locking sound catches my attention.

   He backs me to a wall," You took too long to unblock me. I wanted to apologize the right way, but you just...," he trails off looking me up and down. I shiver under his gaze but fix him with a glare. He smirks as he leans down and brushes our lips together. I turn my face away from him.

   "Do I look like a pawn shop? You can't just flash me a pretty smile and think I'll give you my jewels," I push on his shoulders to get some distance. He backs up with a puzzled look on his face," Wouldn't I be the pawn dealer since I give you all of my money, or are you the pawn dealer because I want..." He trails off but quickly follows up by moving his hand to cup my heat.

   Now...I never claimed to be the world's strongest soldier. I also value the saying actions speak louder than words. So! Just as anyone else, who could deny being princess carried to my bed, laid on my back, and shorts hastily off. He pushes my legs apart and up. He kisses my thighs before backing up and smacking my cheek. I yelp as I glare at him, a warning on the tip of my tongue.

   He leans down to my pussy and presses a kiss to my folds, where my clit lays. His tongue slides out of his mouth and softly licks my clit. I roll my eyes as I threaten him in my head, to not tease for long. He smirks at my shiver and looks up to connect eyes. He slowly licks up from my hole up to my clit. My hip buck as my breath gets caught in my throat." I'll give you three reasons to forgive me," is all he says as he blows on my clit and starts lightly sucking it. I push my hips down towards his mouth as he hungrily eats me out.

     My legs clench around his head and I hear an annoyed huff before he wraps an arm around my hips to pin me to the bed. He stations his other hand on my thigh and pushes down so, my folds part and show my flowing juices. "Be good for me, kitten." He dives back into my flowing abyss. My back arches as I whimper," Jus'...like tha'," I moan. He feasts with a hunger I hadn't seen in him before. He pulls back and takes his hand on my thigh and uses it to draw quick circles on my clit.

  " I neglected my poor kitten and instead of licking her wounds clean, I poured salt in them," I'm wet enough that he's able to slide two long, thick fingers into me. He pumps slowly before picking up speed and curling his fingers towards my spot. "ahh...ha," my mouth hangs open as I feel my peak coming strong. A pressure building in my lower abdomen. He takes his fingers out before sucking the liquid on his fingers. His eyes close in pleasure and takes them out.

   He starts drinking from my hole like a man that was left in the middle of nowhere. "P-pleasee... D-on't stop," I cry out as he attacks my clit. My body tenses as my peak hits me. My body spasms against him but Sylus just grips tighter and continues to swirl his tongue on my clit. I whine and whimper, "S... stylus." I begin squirming and my hole clenches around nothing. He pauses his minstriations," Color? If you want to stop I will, I can make it up to you in other ways." I suck in deep breaths.

   I blink at him and think about it. While yes, I would like to get head and possibly fucked into the sheets. The problem is still there and the haze of sex is covering it. "Green... But as much as I want to continue. I want us to talk it out," I feel a sense of vulnerability in the air. I shift uncomfortably from it but don't shed away from his eye contact. My heart picks up speed as he lets my legs down. He rubs my thighs and sits beside me on the bed," Let's talk kitten."

[tora-the-cat]

How would you have preferred Inner Sakura as a concept to have resolved? Honestly, I think no matter what the idea, it would've been so much more impactful than just having her quietly drop off like she did in canon!

I always kinda assumed that, canonically, Sakura came to grips with her inner self the same way Naruto did in the "Waterfall of Truth", except it took place off-screen in her brain somewhere. Though the DID/Ino Mind-Transfer Shenanigans is waaaaayyyyyy more interesting a thought, in my humble opinion. Maybe Ino even helping Inner Sakura and Outer Sakura compromise and live together in one body? The possibilities...

Speaking of Inner Selves, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Kabuto also had one too given his hefty identity issues? Maybe for his sake it's better if he didn't, because his brain would be like a bumpin' nightclub lmao😅

(Also, please feel free to speak on this matter as much as you'd like! I love reading through your posts while I'm drinking my coffee! :>)

Okay. Okay. So. There are like....several answers to these questions lmao.

CANNONICALLY, Inner was resolved in the most annoying way possible. Sakura never referances having an 'inner self' in shippuden (to my memory), but she does say that training with Tsunade helped her work through her 'emotional issues'. I've always taken this as implying that the INTENDED reading is that Inner was just an inner diolouge Sakura had with herself of all the thoughts and emotions she repressed due to social pressure, and Inner is gone post time-skip because Sakura doesn't repress those anymore, she punches mountains in half. No longer having Inner is supposed to symbolize character growth.

But this, of course, would ALMOST make sense, were it not for. Ino Yamanaka. Who, after doing the mind transfer jutsu in the premils, confirms something that most viewers weren't even really considering until that point; Inner is NOT a personified inner diolouge in Sakura. She's a seperate mind. She is another soul INSIDE Sakura's body that operates even without Sakura's input.

And girls have to be strong to survive.

SO. That said. My read on cannon is that Sakura realized Inner wasn't normal and basically locked her in a mental box in the back of her brain for the rest of her life and refuses to think about her, because she's worried that Tsunade wouldn't see her as a worthy student if she was Crazy (because she thinks. she's Crazy). I don't think she had a waterfall of truth moment, cause that would require Sakura THINKING about Inner, which she. does not want to do.

As far as how I would have PREFERRED Inner Sakura being handled?

Kishimoto could, tomorrow, wake up and write a chapter of Boruto with my propisition that Inner is in a box and, once let free, would kind of just chill while Sakura lost her shit, and have a little side arc where Sakura works through that and DOES reconcile with Inner and stuff. He never WILL do that, but, yeah, I think that would work fine enough for finally tying off the 20 year old loose thread of Inner's disappearance. They've resolved stupider shit for less in Boruto.

This may be a surprising take from me but, honestly, I don't hate 'sakura realizes inner is real and immediately banishes her to the darkest corner of her mind so she never has to actually confront her existance'. I think that's ETREMELY in character for miss 'will DIE if she takes responsibility for ANY action EVER', especially at 14 years old. If I could rewrite naruto JUST to sneak Inner more neatly into it, I think I would still have Sakura box her away during the timeskip, with the caveat that we would like....actually get a vauge flashback scene of her actually repressing Inner just after she starts her training with Tsunade, and occasionally Sakura would say and/or think something a little weird that just gently reminds you that Inner is a thing, every once in a while- kinda like what little we see of Gaara before he looses shukaku but after him and naruto become friends. We would only get the Inner release/full reveal of what's going on with Sakura after she's hit an emotional breaking point and needs to let Inner out to help her regulate her emotions- I'm thinking around the time she does the whole fake confession scene with Naruto, but if we wanna give the plot point some breathing room it could just be an emotional spike as sharp and sudden of her hearing one too many people talk shit about Sasuke WITHOUT getting hit, or Ino daring to ask 'hey. what happened to the second soul in your body? how's she doing?' and Sakura trying desprately to change the subject because she has been NOT THINKING ABOUT IT for like 3 years thank you VERY much.

Honestly, I'd settle for Inner just continuing to be a running joke. Sakura fighting with her internally now that she has the confidence to ALSO be loud and angry, Inner having more emotional intelligence and transparency and Sakura never listening to her cause she's still in denial about Inner being a Person with anything worth listening to. Sakura thinking she's SO normal even though she's been muttering to herself about how she does NOT want to kick Ino's ass (Inner does. a lot) on and off for like 3 hours. Things of this nature. I think a lot of this is repeating what I've said about already so I'll stop here but like....I love you forever inner sakura they can NEVER make me hate you inner sakura <3

As far as what I think Inner 'is': it being a training mishap where Ino accidently split Sakura's soul in half as kids is SO much fun and especially has some steller InoSaku potential, but I personally just....Like the idea of sakura just. being like that lmao. I usually write it as Sakura being born a twin and Inner being her stillborn twin sister who's soul went into Sakura cause it had no where else to go (it's a LITTLE more complicated then that cause I think about her. a lot. but basically). Sakura WAS just born this way!!!! NORMALEST GIRL EVER!!!

On a similar note; I don't really EVER write Inner as a DID alter, because DID is like....real. DID manifests (to my understanding, I'm obviously not a doctor or anything) when a child is in such traumatizing circumstances during their developmental years that they dissociate frequently enough to fracture their psyche into different conciousness, so they can compartmentalize their trauma and remain a mostly-functioning person. You almost always have more then one alter, and often (without therapy) can't clearly draw the lines between 'you' and your alters cause. well. the point is that you're so chronically disocciated that you have trouble being 'all there' in the first place. LOTS of people have DID and don't recognize that's what it is for a long ass while, cause they think it's as simple as, like, that one stupid shamalan movie.

Canon Sakura almost CERTAINLY does not have DID, unless she went through some SHIT that was never even mentioned in cannon- which, to be fair, WOULD map on to DID because. she would NOT remember it lmao that's probably what Inner is FOR. But, for the story that Naruto is and the character that Sakura is, it doesn't really read. Sakura's supposed to be an insanely driven girl who drags herself from the mediocrity of her civilian upbringing to be the second coming of Tsunade, so, for all that you can read into and joke about Inner's existance and Sakura's low empathy generally and how Sakura seems concerningly releived that her parents are dead in RTN (all of which I LOVE doing), in order for her to work as a character she can't have too much of a tragic backstory in canon. Outside of canon is another matter of course, but idk. you can write an interesting plurality dynamic without calling it DID, especially in a world of ninja magic bullshit.

ON THAT NOTE THOUGH. Yeah. Kabuto has DID <3 <3 <3 LOOK AT HIM. LISTEN TO HIM TALK. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. YOU ARE RIGHT. HIS BRAIN IS BUMPING LIKE A NIGHTCLUB. AND HE IS NOT INVITED TO THE PARTY!!!!!

[lightlycareless]

Heyy !!

I just wanted to request if you could write something about Naoya punishing us🤭😭 you can choose why he’s punishing us cuz I don’t have any ideas ;)

And like I was rereading some chapters of your fic with Naoya and omg like , your writing is really good I literally felt in a romance book , the way you wrote each character is amazing too and I just really appreciate your work I hope you will keep writing it 😭

Heya anon!!

Of course!!! I actually had to think a bit as to how he'd punish us... or more like how I would write it, since these are two things I'm not really that experienced with yet (Naoya is always rough, I mean, when does it become a punishment? or so that's my perception lol)

But I eventually settled with something I wanted to try :) I feel like Naoya would really love doing something like this when he's not that involved with you (He's busy lmao)

Anyways, here are the warnings: slight exhibitionism? One of Naoya's brother's got very unlucky. Use of vibrators, plugs, or so. kind of dub-con if you think about it, Naoya is also a manipulator, you're an enabler. Minors DNI!!!

Now, without further a do, happy reading!

“Y/N, are you…  alright?” After much debate, a member of your staff member, Mariya, says after silently observing the rising fluster of your cheeks or the slightest hesitation in your usually nimble hands.

“Ye—yeah.” You murmur, taking breath and exhaling. “I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” she suggests, which you deny almost immediately by shaking your head.

“No, I just—I’ll be fine.” You insist, and Mariya begrudgingly lets you continue, attempting her best to move past her concern and focus on her duties.

But when she sees you struggle on the simplest of tasks yet again, she’s quickly reminded that more than helping you complete your duties, she’s there to ensure your well-being; so, after relegating part of your responsibilities to nearby staff, and essentially forcing you to accept this change, Mariya leads you onto your bedroom, intending to let you rest and recover—

Until bumping onto Naoya on the way there, who after taking a quick glance at your dismayed appearance, immediately relieves Mariya of her obligations and takes you to the bedroom himself.

A gesture she takes with great elation, glad that your husband had always been attentive to you—no doubt in her mind that you’re in much better hands now…

If only he weren’t the reason behind your ailment.

“So much for holding decorum, my love…” he says upon firmly closing the door behind him. A tone so threatening, you quickly turn around to face him and spew out your defense.

“Naoya—I wasn’t—Mariya didn’t—” you gasp.

“No, I get it.” He says. “She’s your friend, your loyal companion, someone that gives you security. Were you intending to gang up on me with her, perhaps? Use her to avoid the inevitable?”

“What? N—no…!” you fretted, he closes the distance between the two. “Nao—ya—”

“On the futon—now.”

You obey immediately, making your way over to the futon and taking a seat just by the edge, fingers fidgeting amongst with other before mustering enough courage to glance up to him, flinching when seeing the smirk on his face, the indication his following acts would be nothing but etched with dark intentions—

Something you were nothing but fearful, and unprepared to face.

“You know what you ought to be doing, princess” Naoya says as he walks over to you. You try your best to move away from him, far and safe from his retribution…

But too deep into your own terror, all you could do instead is whimper as you remained there, anxiously taking in the scrutinizing way his eyes scan your body.

If he noticed the result of such struggle, he did not say. Yet, it wouldn’t take much to guess that your reaction, far from offending him, would only excite him.

“Don’t act all innocent now, it’s unbefitting of a whore like you.” He frowns. “Do not make me repeat myself.’

Pushing through the fear and embarrassment your following actions were to provide, your hands carefully grip the edges of your kimono skirt and lift it, effectively revealing the culprit behind your shaky morning, a sight that makes Naoya’s satisfaction grow, kneeling to your level so he could get a better look at the situation you’ve gotten yourself in—

All because you were a needy princess for attention.

Filling your cunt, was a vibrator that had been diligently working the moment Naoya placed it within you early in the morning—faithfully keeping you company throughout your various duties while he cruelly played with its settings from afar.

He’d either give you a false sense of comfort by lowering the vibrations, almost undetectable, enough to allow your mind to dwell onto other matters… before reminding you of your naivety by rising it to the maximum and forcing you onto disconcerting consequences.

There was no way Naoya knew where you were, or whom you were with when alternating between settings, but you wouldn’t put it beneath him to have found a way to do so—specially with what happened earlier: to the moment you were pushed dangerously close to the edge, a simple matter of enduring few more seconds of stimulation before coming undone—

And right before one of his brothers, the most innocent of all: Naofumi.

At that, you couldn’t help but suspect Naoya knew what you were doing all along, carefully planning the moment where Naofumi would naturally worry if you were ok, if you’ve perhaps been struck with an unprecedented sickness, and if there was something he could do to help you…

Before finally placing the pieces together the longer your heavy breathing went on, as the color in your cheeks deepened.

Once evident, Naofumi quickly excused himself and sprinted past the door, into the hallways and away from the scaring image of his sister-in-law having an orgasm right before him.

Oh, Naoya would’ve undoubtedly killed to see something like that.

But for now, he supposes he’ll do with what he has now.

“Fits you quite well, doesn’t it?” he says, fingers teasingly sliding across the edge of your lips, giving them a light pull and getting a better view of its lovely pink color, before licking his lips at the way your bud twitches, eventually refocusing on the other equally cruel part of this intricate arrangement:

A nicely fitting plug placed in your ass, capable of stimulating your greedy rim through various vibrations, yet decorated with a beautiful shiny pink jewel—because a desperate princess like you still deserved only the nicest.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to satisfy your needy holes, but of course, my beautiful wife can never disappoint.”

Unless, of course, when you did.

“Naoya—” you whine, invertedly pushing your hips into his touch, crying when he pulls away. “Naoya please—”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, as if he couldn’t find your behavior any more amusing. “Didn’t you have enough today? You still want more?”

“I want—I want you—” you breathe, trying to rub your legs together, his hands stop you.

“Of course you do, slut.” Naoya spats. “Can’t get enough of that can you? It’s how you got into this situation, after all—because like the desperate whore you are, you always have to be looking for someone to fuck you.”

“No— No Naoya.” You frantically shake your head, before trying your best to reach for him—Naoya pushes you back. “I only want you!”

“That’s not what it looked like that day.” He growls, releasing his grasp over you, soon hearing his pants unfastening—the sight and sound sends a jolt of heat towards your cunt, making you clench in eagerness. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I would never—ah!” Naoya shuts you by landing his hand against your cunt, a loud slap and a stinging aftermath leaving you to ponder on your supposed lies. “I could never—I could never do that! —I love—”

But your words weren’t ones he could consider truthful anymore, not when he’d seen the evidence with his own two eyes:

The infuriating image of you gleefully laughing alongside his brother, the most insufferable of all, Naoaki, when he’s told you countless times to keep the fuck away from him.

Sure, he could admit knowing you were only being amicable for his sake, upkeeping your reputation as respectable lady of the house and honoring all that Naoya has worked for—but it still angered him, in such way many wouldn’t be able to comprehend, not even in the slightest, because just as he knew you, he also knew his brothers.

Saw right through their envious intentions, their jealous, lustful motivations.

Which only fueled him to let everyone know you were his.

That he’s the one you married, the one he’s claiming every single night, filling with his seed, chanting his name like it was some kind of prayer, and soon—carrying his child.

Seems a reminder is long overdue. And what better way to do so than continuously putting you through a state his foolish brothers could only dream of achieving…

But to Naoya, all he had to do was ask.

“I love you” you whimper when he pulls out the vibrator from your cunt, swiftly and without warning, leaving you empty, yet eager, for you wholeheartedly expected this agonizing void to be replaced by his intoxicating warmth…

You’d get it, of course, but not the way you anticipated, nor wanted—for Naoya would tell you that in order to obtain what you desired, you’d have to convince him you’re worthy of his cock, the pleasure you’ve been agonizingly longing for, even when overstimulated—

And like the ever-dutiful wife, you’d oblige, taking his member into your mouth and eagerly bobbing your head up and down his shaft, doing your best to show just how much you loved the entirety of him—from the tip of his head, to the prominent vein on the underside… there’s nothing more blissful than to be filled to the brim with his hardness and seed.

When feeling him close to his release, through the familiar sound of his shaky voice, tightly shut eyes as his head is thrown to the back, while heavily grunting just how good you’re making him feel, you tried to pull away from him, make him reconsider finishing inside your cunt instead.

But once more, you weren’t to receive such blessings—not when you had yet to comply with the cruel requirements of said punishment—so instead, Naoya simply pulls you back to his cock, nose against his pelvis as he does one, two, three more thrusts before emptying his seed into your mouth.

You moan at the warm strings flooding your throat, hands tightly clenching at his legs as you do your best to fight against the choking sensation his intruding member forced onto you—but as difficult this task was, your mind could only focus on the fire underneath, and the desolation you were dying to ease—

“N—No, Naoya…!” you’d cry when realizing that the only time he’d touch your cunt was to fill you with his seed but void of the pleasure he’d always given you when doing so. Instead, relegated solely to preserve his future heirs, safely guarded deep into tight walls and sealed with the same vibrator as before, to ensure nothing goes to waste. “It’s not—It’s not fair!”

A cry that makes him smirk, before his face turns sour at seeing your hands reach for your bud, undoubtedly seeking release through your own merits, him quickly peeling it away.

“If you touch yourself one more time—I’ll have you walk naked around the estate!”

There’s sincerity behind his tone, all the intentions of keeping his words if you fail once more, clear in his eyes.

And thus, without putting up a fight, you sorrowfully accept his condition, tears in your eyes as you’re bound to face another hour yet again without coming undone through the care and warmth of your husband.

Though Naoya would remind you that his actions aren’t of a cruel man, but rather, of fair one, by pressing a kiss on your cheeks, lips wiping away your tears as he sweetly reassures you…

“Just don’t do it next time, ok?” Naoya coos as he places a soft peck onto your lips, you continue quietly sobbing. “You know how I feel when you talk to my brothers… do you really want it to be like this, always?”

You shake your head.

No, of course not. You’d rather die than make your husband upset.

“Then be a good girl and do as I say.” Naoya carefully grabs your face, making you turn to him—watery eyes looking up to his surprisingly soft, promising ones. “Can you do that? Can the future mother of my children obey me?”

At the promise of becoming the mother to his heirs, your heart flutters, a soft smile appearing on your lips before eagerly revealing your response.

“Yes.”

A guarantee that would briefly provide a glimpse of your undying loyalty towards him, willing to do not only that, but more—from keeping your hands away from your burning cunt, eyes stray of all men but him, to eagerly taking his seed and only his seed, preparing for the day you’d announce you were with child…

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for Naoya. Happy to accept your punishments for actions you weren’t even aware of…

As long as you had his love.

I was actually upset that I didn't write y/n wearing a vibrator/plug on this oneshot over here, like, commit to it, you know?! That would've sent Naoya over the edge waaay earlier.

Also, thank you so much for your lovely words!! I'm so glad you're liking my fic so far :') It's always such an honor... and I've long promised myself that even if it took me a while, I will finish it!! I have to... I owe it to myself and y'all....

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! :> I hope it was worth the wait! I got to write something I wanted to try out... hehe. Totally worth it.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon ❤️

[rollercoasterwords]

tried to read wfrau as i saw people rec it, but there's something bothering me in that fic. i don't like the alpha-male-ification of remus in wfrau. remus is not a beast who can fight another beast werewolves. he was a timid, sheltered boy in canon, but it's like you're making him fit into the fanon toxic wolfstar heteronormative box. it feels weird to read. please don't make me start on why it seems like you hate sirius OR use sirius as a self-insert to indulge in your fetishization of remus. like why do you write sirius as abused, when it was canonically remus who was disabled. can you consider rewrite some points in the fic, aligned to canon?

lmao where do i even start with this. uhhhhh okay first of all to answer your question - no, i will not be rewriting to make my non-canon-compliant fic more compliant with canon. if you don't like it, i suggest you don't read it! i'm not writing the story for you, and i'm not really sure why you think it would matter to me whether you like it or not. there are plenty of other fics out there that you can go read.

this fic was explicitly written to be a werewolf-fighting ring au. if you don't like remus fighting other werewolves, then i'm baffled as to why you even started it in the first place, considering that it's clearly tagged "werewolf fighting ring." i don't agree with your interpretation of canon that he was a "timid, sheltered" boy; even if i did, this fic is specifically exploring how the characters would be different in an au, non-canon-compliant version of their world. if the gay romance between two men is too heteronormative for you, there are, again, other fics out there that you can read. and if you don't want to read about "toxic" relationships then u DEFINITELY shouldn't read this fic, because none of the relationships in it are wholesome and healthy lmao. if you think i hate sirius...i don't even know what to say lol. like yeah i hate him so much that i've written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction about him. that checks out! and remus is fetishized in this fic for being a werewolf, which is a topic that gets explored in-depth in his pov chapter and is not something condoned by the narrative. i'm assuming you didn't read that far, though, and that what you mean by "fetishization" is the fact that sirius finds him sexy. so. again, i think you probably should just not read this fic if characters being sexually attracted to each other bothers you. i write sirius as being abused because that's the story i wanted to tell; not really sure how remus being canonically disabled is something that would cancel that out? those are two separate things. and remus's canonical disability is his lycanthropy, which....also exists in this fic. and is another topic that gets explored throughout the story.

in conclusion i truly cannot emphasize enough that i am not the person out here reccing this fic, i am not trying to grow an audience or go viral or any of that bullshit. not sure where you got the rec from, but i have actually asked people not to post about my fics on tiktok to try and avoid them blowing up there, because i do not want people like you reading them. i include an entire warning on the first chapter about the fact that this fic is dark and deals with heavy topics; i've tagged the fic thoroughly and have also included "additional tags to be added" to remind people that it's a wip and things are subject to change. all this is to emphasize -- i really, really, really don't care if any person reading the fic dislikes it. i don't care if they dislike it so much that they have to stop reading, because i don't care how many people are reading it in the first place!! i'm writing this story purely for fun, for myself, so i'm going to write what i want to write. even if you intended for this message to be polite, it just comes off as incredibly entitled to ask a stranger on the internet to spend hours of time and labor tailoring a story to your specific tastes, and if you think this type of message is okay to send then i think you should genuinely sit down and reevaluate the way you approach fandom. nobody is making you read fics you don't like, so just....don't read them.

[strwbmei1]

Thank you for full filled my last request hshsjsjja it's so cute. And if you want to know, I always re-read all your fics lmao, it's so good. The way you mention tie Fu hua up, and I was like "damn it's gonna be hot." Thinking tie her up, especially when I get jealous.. and I know she's gonna be so whiny and cries because she can't touch reader.

She's so used to holding onto your shoulders or gripping the sheets when you fuck her, so she'd definitely whine about not being able to touch you at all:((

Fu Hua could easily break the ropes that restrained her, but she wouldn't want to disappoint you, would she? Or perhaps, she just liked being at your mercy.

You're so cruel too; so rough when you knew for a fact that Fu Hua never intended on making you jealous. She's just too nice to others for her own good.

On the other hand, she'd be lying if she said she didn't imagine this exact scenario in her head more than a few times.

Hungry and possessive as you ravage her body like an animal— Fu Hua loves this side of you just as much as she loved how you usually were.

If the ropes left a mark on her fair skin the next morning, she'd definitely scold you with her cheeks as red as a tomato. Not out of embarrassment, but because she can't help but get turned on whenever she sees and feels the reminder of what you did to her the night before.

[crispyjenkins]

dha kar'ta "crispy has lost control of their life again" celebration sneak peek

am planning on starting up a wip wednesday sort of thing (maybe next week?), which will definitely be more than star wars related stuff, but i've also just exceeded a thousand hours on skyrim in less than a year and wanted to celebrate(?) (i actually hit a thousand a few days ago, but in true fixation fashion, kept playing instead of posting anything over here lmao) so here's a dha kar'ta wip 'cause jango is fighting me a little bit but new chapter soon!! i promise!!

 “As soon as Satine is unseated, the Mandalore System’s full neutrality nullifies, unless Jango chooses to reinstate it.”

  “And he’d rather die than do that,” Bosoloc pipes up helpfully.

  “Yes, and at that point, Mandalore can choose to pursue rejoining the Republic for the first time since the Kyr’am Turr’e, because New Mandalore never officially seceded to the Senate.”

  “Which Jang’alor would also rather die than do.”

  Obi-Wan acknowledges Ezovac with a nod. “The politics of sovereign states that exist within sectors technically under control of the Republic are a disaster at best, and almost no one in the Senate is willing to deal with it long enough for a planet to get the flimsiwork through.” Melidaan is a Republic planet now, but the Young didn’t always intend it to be, and Nield couldn’t read, so Obi-Wan had done a lot of that research between battles; and being on the run from Death Watch actually afforded a considerable amount of downtime during his year on Mandalore, and, well. A big part of that Obi-Wan had thought it was all information he’d need to know if Satine asked him to stay, and Obi-Wan still hasn’t quite learned how to let someone love him unless he can be useful to them.

  Actually, it’s rather convenient that he had done all this research for Mandalore specifically, if thirteen years too early — perhaps the Force was simply preparing him for this Mandalore, not Satine’s. 

  Across the mess table, Kal groans loudly and slumps his head down. “Fine, I’ll bite, kih’Alor: what’s any of that got to do with Duchess Demagolka?”

  “Theoretically,” Obi-Wan sighs again, pushing a grumbling Dha further into his mind so he can concentrate, “Mandalore does not actually have to declare itself as anything; there are plenty of planets in the outer rim that have sovereignty without officialising it with the Republic.”

  “But...?”

  “But, thanks to Satine, Mandalore is embroiled in Senate politics nine ways to Corellian Hells, and it’ll be even worse if she makes any headway with the beskar mines while we’re off fighting Vizsla. We simply can’t withdraw from those politics, not when Mandalore’s history is so entwined with the Republic’s, not unless we want to go full isolationist from the rest of the galaxy.” He glances at his other table-/councilmates, and is relieved to see they seem to be keeping up, if looking a bit exhausted by it; Obi-Wan shares the sentiment.

  Luckily, the mess is empty now with everyone returning to their increased post-battle duties, or Obi-Wan is sure they’d have had quite a few more complaints about the impromptu government lesson happening in the middle of the tent.

  Kal rubs his eyes, shaking himself before turning back to Obi-Wan, his frown as deep as ever, but at least he still seems willing to listen.

  “So, we can’t just go after the Senate’s pet Mandalorian without burning those bridges, unless we have proof she’s in league with a terrorist?”

  “Precisely. And technically, with Mandalore as a sovereign state, the Senate can’t do anything about the change in power, unless they plan to go to war with every Mandalorian in the galaxy, but proving she made the first move will give us significantly more support for instating Jango instead.”

  “I feel like my brains are coming out my ears,” Bosoloc whispers woodenly, staring down at the remains of the protein gruel on her tray. 

  “You don’t have ears,” Myles reminds her, chin in his hand, and she kicks him under the table. 

  “What I want to know,” Mij speaks for the first time, easily dodging one of Myles’ flailing arms, “is how you even know about the Kyr’am Turr’e, Obi-Wan.”

  Bosoloc turns away from tormenting Myles to add, “Yes, I was going to ask about that, because I have no idea what the Death Days are.”

-

[skania]

Aqua, Akane & Chapter 98

I had a lot of thoughts about Chapter 97 and I've got almost as many about Chapter 98. No theories though, this is just the way I personally read their interactions this chapter lol

First thing that stood out to me is how recurrent this bridge is in Aqua and Akane's big scenes.

The way they have been saving each other over and over in this very bridge is remarkable, and I'm fully expecting them to have another big scene there if Aka chooses to go down the AquaKane route.

The second thing that stood out to me is the face Aqua makes when Akane says that she thought someone pushed her down the stairs.

It's like Aqua is seeing a preview of what could happen to Akane if he allows her to keep getting involved in his revenge. It makes him beg her to stop doing dangerous things (and we recently saw him beg Ruby to stop living her life for revenge in c122).

In my c97 thoughts, I said that I feel like Akane's wording and demeanor last chapter gave away the fact that she found Aqua's dad.

I feel like c98 indirectly validates that reading, because we now see Aqua's give away the fact that he knows what Akane is up to.

In both cases, Aqua and Akane read each other like a book because they have come to know each other too well. And so, Aqua knows that Akane is about to figure out just how he managed to get there in time.

Aqua's expression here is important because we can't see his face when he begs Akane to stay safe, but we can at least see the aftermath. To me he looks sad, contrite. And the placement of the speech bubble suggests that his expression also has a lot to do with what is about to happen.

You're really sharp, Akane

This panel is one of my favorites:

Akane's sharpness is a trait Aqua has always valued in her, and now it's one of the reasons he has to walk away from her. The irony is likely not lost on him.

That pause is Aqua getting ready to act emotionless. After this point, he will only show emotion once.

It also tells me that in Chapter 97 Aqua did already know that Akane was aware of the loophole. After all, in Chapter 95, Ichigo reminds Aqua that he is smart enough to realize his dad is still alive. Since Akane is so sharp, it goes without saying that such a thing wouldn't have been lost on her.

The GPS

I have to pause here because something that broke my disbelief while reading was... how could Akane immediately tell that the tracker was in the keychain? I know she's sharp but she's no sorceress lol

Only thing that makes sense to me is assuming that the keychain was a gift from Aqua. I feel this would explain why Akane zeroes it on it right away. However, I think the actual reason is that Aka literally came up with it on the spot and we aren't supposed to think that deeply about it lmao Same goes for Aqua being able to guess Kamiki's identity based on Akane's movements. Like all we see Akane do is a) meet up with fellow Lala Lai troupers b) cross a bridge. How in the world was that enough for Aqua to narrow it down to Kamiki? Either I'm missing something, or Aka just wanted to move things along asap without bothering with the details 😂

I digress though! In any case, I know that the tracker was a deal breaker for a lot of people. Personally, it changes nothing for me because of the time period in which he planted it. Aqua says that he installed it "some time" after LoveNow ended, and the fact that he doesn't say "Some time after Tokyo Blade started" or anything along those lines suggests that it did happen before the play.

Which means, it happened back when Aqua did intend to use Akane. But the thing is, he never gets around to using her the way he intended to.

Case in point, he himself says that he thought Akane "may be able to find something out". Except he gives her the information she needs only after he thinks his revenge is already over lol

For me the actual question is when does Aqua start using that GPS?

Technically, it should be anywhere between Chapter 95 and Chapter 98, so it is possible that Aqua was already using it by Chapter 97 and that when he calls Akane, he has already been tracking her. His "Are you up to something?" can indeed lend credence to this theory depending on how you read it.

Personally though, I can't help but think that he started using it after Chapter 97. The reason being that by the beginning of Chapter 97, Aqua has every reason to guess Akane is already aware of the loophole, but he has little reason to believe Akane has found his dad. I'd argue that Akane being aware of the loophole isn't enough reason for Aqua to start using the GPS; she has been aware of it for an entire year, starting to use the GPS wouldn't change anything at that point. Their phone-call, however, does let Aqua know that Akane has likely found his dad and that she is up to something, so it gives Aqua enough reasons to start tracking her.

Regardless of when it happened, I think the GPS ironically serves to establish a clear contrast between the kind of relationship Aqua intended to have with Akane and the kind of relationship they ended up having. The GPS was there so he could use Akane as a tool, yet the GPS ends up being a tool so he can free Akane from his revenge.

That's just me as a reader, though. Akane as a character is very much bothered by the GPS and I loved every second of it.

Trust & Choices

I have to thank Aka for letting Akane explain her perspective to antis not that they will listen. It's not that Akane "is fine" being Aqua's "pet" or "his property". She very much isn't.

It's that Aqua has never made her feel that way before now. The moment when Aqua could have lied to her to string her along, Akane asks him to be honest and Aqua complies.

He doesn't tell her that he wants to use her for something, sure, but what he does say is enough for Akane to read between the lines. Akane chooses to go along with it because she trusts Aqua's intentions. Since Aqua is inherently a good, kind person, Akane trusts him and wants to help him.

So the GPS shakes Akane for two reasons. On one hand, this is the first time she hasn't had a choice in her relationship with Aqua. I'd even go as far as saying that "Choices" are part of the very foundation of their dynamic.

Back when Akane was lost, Aqua didn't push his own wants and expectations onto her. He let her make her own choice, and once she did, Aqua did everything in his power to help her. I turn, Akane tries to do the same for him throughout their relationship, but this is probably a topic for another day lol

The point is, when it comes to Aqua, Akane has been deciding for herself all along. Aqua kisses her to trap her in a relationship with him, yet confesses that he doesn't see her as a woman and thus that their relationship is fake; Akane chooses to become his girlfriend fully knowing this. Later, Aqua confesses that there is someone he wants to kill and Akane chooses to help him. Lastly, Aqua kisses her for real and Akane chooses to date him.

Each time, Akane could have walked away. Each time, Akane chooses to get closer to Aqua instead. This is why she says that if Aqua had just asked her, she would've been fine with the GPS—because she trusts him. All she asks is that he trust her in turn—and Akane believes that he does, until now.

That's the second reason why she is so distraught over this. Since Aqua plants it without asking her and doesn't come clean about it while they're dating, Akane feels like she got it wrong.

Equals

Aqua can't even look her in the eye while saying that lmao

Akane thought that she had an equal relationship with Aqua, one based on trust (and choices). As far as I'm concerned, she is right. She was (and is) his match in every sense of the word, whether intellectually or emotionally.

But it wouldn't be in Aqua's best interests to correct her. After all, he needs to walk away from Akane. The less she thinks of him and of their relationship, the better. So, he focuses on exposing Akane's contradiction instead.

Akane says that she would have helped him in any way, but would she? Now that she knows that Aqua desperately craves freedom and that his revenge would ruin him, would Akane have allowed him to pursue it?

Her thoughts and actions betray the fact that she wouldn't have wanted Aqua to choose revenge, which brings me to:

What exactly was Akane planning to do?

Given her thoughts here, it doesn't feel like Akane is focusing on what she is about to do but on the aftermath. She says that she was just planning to talk to Kamiki and that she brought the knife "just in case", and I think this may very well be the truth.

But, the thing is... that shows Akane wasn't thinking straight.

I have no doubt that being able to talk to him would've let Akane gauge the kind of person Kamiki is, but... what then? Would she just walk away, leaving a literal knife in that bouquet of flowers for him to find? That makes no sense. Was she planning to egg him on enough that he would attack her, giving her the excuse to act in self-defense? That makes more sense, but it's also a terrible plan. Anything could have gone wrong. To say Akane was being reckless would be an understatement.

Whatever it was that she was thinking of doing, she clearly didn't think it through. She was as blinded as Aqua once was by his desire to be free of his revenge. In her haste, Akane doesn't stop to think about herself and her own well-being.

Which ironically means that she misses the forest for the trees.

Because Aqua would break if something were to happen to her, even more so if he is the indirect cause of her misfortune.

Contradiction

Since Akane won't prioritize herself over Aqua, Aqua takes himself out of the equation.

Akane wants to be together with Aqua, but she'd rather shoulder his burdens on her own than seeing him suffer. Aqua wants to be together with Akane (he says so himself, he doesn't want to let go of the days when she's by his side), but he'd rather shoulder his burdens on his own than putting her in danger.

This is both funny and sad, he really isn't suited for revenge lol Aqua could have walked away, could have let Akane have that last, terrible impression of him. But he doesn't. He once again asks Akane to stop doing dangerous things, looking sad while he is at it—the second time he can't help but show emotion during their conversation.

And now it's Akane's turn to point out the way his words are at odd with his actions.

Akane made herself into the perfect tool for his revenge, all on her own. Not only is she brilliant enough to find his dad for him, she is willing to throw herself into the lion's den for him. She is even willing to potentially kill for him.

And yet, Aqua walks away from her because he can't bear the thought of Akane putting herself in danger. This alone proves that he doesn't see her as a tool.

Aqua didn't want her to carry his burden, he just wanted her to be there by his side.

Akane desperately tries to fix her mistake, to fulfill the promise of companionship that she once made him, but it's too late and she knows it.

She knows that Aqua is about to ruin himself by pursuing his revenge, and she is willing to ruin herself right alongside him just so he doesn't have to be alone, but Aqua won't let her.

After all, not letting his girlfriend die is a boyfriend's job.

Black Stars

By saying that he plans to go to hell by himself, Aqua confirms Akane's worst fears: he has taken a wrong turn. He is turning his back on happiness and freedom—on the future—and chaining himself to the lonely, bitter path of revenge—to his past.

You took a wrong turn, Akane tells him. I know, Aqua confirms as he turns away from her.

The imagery is poignant, as so is the fact that Aqua only gets his black stars after turning his back on Akane. This right here is what stood out the most to me in this chapter, because Aqua doesn't get his black stars after finding out that his father is alive—he gets them only after walking away from Akane!

Why? Because as he says so himself, his happy days were by her side. The moment Aqua walks away from her, he is knowingly giving up on the naive thought of being happy.

This is extremely important—or at least, good writing says that it should be, even more so in light of all the parallels between the way Ruby gets her Black Stars and the way Aqua gets his—and it suggest that Akane may get her wish just yet.

She desperately wanted to save him, but she went about it the wrong way. If she had told him that she found Kamiki, there is a chance they could've worked together to catch him. But Akane messed up by taking the burden upon herself instead of giving herself the weight and importance Aqua himself gives her... and now Aqua is messing up by refusing to give his life any worth and by taking the weight of revenge squarely upon his shoulders.

It's also important to note that Aqua isn't choosing revenge because he wants to, but because he feels that he has to. He feels like he has no choice.

It makes sense. After all, he has come to realize that even if he tries to go on with his life, the people he loves will try to take revenge in his stead. Ruby. Akane. Even Ichigo.

So Aqua decides to doom himself and only himself.

To wrap this up, I can't help but to bring up the chapter title, "Going Astray". After all, Akane in this chapter represents all the good Aqua is walking away from in order to choose revenge.

So all in all, I feel like the stage is set up for Aqua to be saved from this burden—and for Akane to (hopefully) play a big role in making this possible.

[ev-arrested]

Reading the Grayson comics is like reading a manifestation of Michael Bublé’s version of “Santa Baby”

I will elaborate:

Santa Baby by Michael Bublé has to be one of the most “no homo” songs I have ever heard. I’m serious, just listen to it rn. The thing about it is that it doesn’t just sound gay because he didn’t change any of the lyrics. Nonono. That would have been better, lemme assure you. The thing about the song is that he tried to. “Santa Baby” suddenly becomes “Santa Buddy”, and, even more hysterically, “Santa Pally” and “Santa Poppy” LIKE—

You’ll certainly still get lines like

“Santa buddy, a sixty five convertible too Steel blue”

And then followed up with a line calling Santa “dude”

“I'll wait up for you, dude”

And then the “no homo” is IMMEDIATELY undone by

“Santa buddy, and hurry down the chimney tonight”

With every changed lyrics trying to make it less gay (and ironically making it more hilarious and not any less gay), you’re sitting there scratching your head like, “Michael…if you didn’t want to sing a song that sounded a bit gay, you totally could have just…not.”

That’s what reading the Grayson comics is like. Tom King said, “Dick Grayson is straight”, and the thing about that is that I could suspend my disbelief. I could certainly successfully delude myself and pretend that he is for a comic—if Tom King wasn’t writing the gayest shit I’ve ever read.

Most of the gay shit you see in this comic is very much just gaybaiting. To me, that’s fine. I’m over it. It doesn't really interfere with my delusion of Dick being straight. But it’s the little things that Dick Grayson does that just make him come across as so closeted that Tom King definitely did not intend. Like look at this panel from the second annual.

Grayson Annual #2 page 26

What the fuck is this huh

I get that this is supposed to be a reminder to the audience that he is in fact straight amongst all the gaybaiting, but the thing about that, King, and I cannot emphasize this enough, is that dropping lines like this makes him less straight, not more.

Y'know what would make him more straight? Leaving out the gay shit entirely so you don't have to compensate like this lmao. You don't even have to compensate in the first place, actually.

I'm hardly mad at this--quite the contrary, I think it's funny--but man. King, if you didn't wanna write a Dick Grayson that came across as less than straight, you could have just. Not lol.

Anyway, this has been my weekly post of begging my followers to read the Grayson comics. It's like 20 issues and it's a fun time...even if they're bad.

[zhaohuis-lost-walnut]

ok i just saw this while going thru the tags and i need to yap with someone about it but. opinions on [HEADCANON] different ethnic groups strewn throughout Zhou, but mostly Libei and Bianjun and potentially some of the characters being from different ethnic backgrounds than most people in Qudu might be.

I made a post abt it and I'm only in book 2, I don't mind spoilers related to this topic I just want to talk about this headcanon and its possibilities. canon universe but not related to plot-ish?

Anyways I'd like to hear your thoughts!!

This is such a fun topic! I will say that I am unfortunately unfamiliar with specific ethnic groups to draw one-to-one or inspirational correlations, but I am a fan of the idea that each prefecture/region has different sub cultures. Though I feel it's impossible not to have diversity when you're dealing with an empire as large as Dazhou/Great Zhou.

Much like real life, the land the prefectures and cities reside on greatly affects the society of the people who live there. I love the world building in general. When it's mentioned that some characters hide their dialects after moving to Qudu for official positions, it serves as a reminder for how big the nation really is.

I will try not to be too spoilery, but to make up for my ignorance, I would like to go into some of the silly things I remember from each region of Dazhou/ Great Zhou~

Libei is hands down my favorite. The residents are badass, but on top of that, Libei is known for it's grasslands and mountains. So naturally (light pun intended), the people that grew up/choose to live there are very in tune with nature and care for animals. They do not play when it comes to their horses. They're also know for their skilled craftsmen and they take great pride in their work. I love to see it. I could honestly make an entire brainrot post on Libei and their values, but I really want you to read and experience it for yourself. It's really interesting and sweet in my opinion~

Next is Qudu: I hate these people. I could go on about these weirdos forever, but it is truly so jarring going from three volumes with Qudu as the main setting, to all the other places. Obviously, bad things tend to happen where the elite congregate, but jeez. If you're not rich, it sucks to be in Qudu. Even the well meaning imperial officials are serving cult. It's honestly humorous how much people outside of Qudu could not care less about who the emperor is. To give them a little grace, I suppose Qudu is considered the center of education. Qudu is home the Imperial College, which is a place quite a few side characters mention trying to get into. ...But the students there are INSANE, so I can't take them seriously. Qudu scares me. Moving on.

Juexi is known for it's port , merchants, and it's granaries. Very straight forward. I'm honestly a little sad we didn't get to learn more about it. I feel like if I were to live anywhere in this empire, it would be in Juexi. The Biansha ain't gonna get me, plenty of job opportunities, and life just seems pretty chill. Except when they have natural disasters, but that's okay. The characters we meet from Juexi are pretty normal, which also affects my overall positive opinion of it. Cool place.

Qidong is mostly desert...I think? We eventually go to a Qi Clan estate and I was genuinely shocked to realize people actually lived there lmao. A lot like Libei, the people that live there are mostly military families. If you aren't joining the Qidong Garrison Troops, why are you here? I don't remember too too much about Qidong, but from the few things I do, I got the vibe that the men are very macho and really value their legacy. One of the main conflicts surrounding Qi Zhuyin is the fact that she can't get an official title, and the reason that's important is because all of her military achievements won't be recorded in history without one. And while every region values legacy to an extent, the way each one differs in the intensity of that importance makes a huge difference in my opinion. I feel like the people in Qidong are much more individualistic compared to the other prefectures, but the topic is nuance I think.

Finally, we have Zhongbo! Now, Zhongbo is interesting because we get to read the prefecture go through many manifestations. We get to see it after the massacre. We hear what life was like before the tragedy. We see it slowly change for the better and what the characters hope for it to become. Before Juexi took over as the "nations granary" after Zhongbo's fall, Zhongbo provided most of the military provisions to Qidong and Libei. We learn a lot about Zhongbo over the course of the story. And once again, I don't want to spoil much, but I will say the people from there tend to really value their family. Obviously everyone cares about their family in the story...well... most of them... anyhoo. But there's something about the way family and relationships are discussed by those in Zhongbo that really resonates with me. I feel like the reason family is an especially sacred topic in Zhongbo is because so many people lost theirs in the Biansha attack. And that grief over the years transformed into really holding onto those they have left. I don't know how to articulate it, but I think it's very beautiful how a lot of my favorite romantic moments happen in the various cities Zhongbo~ Residents in Zhongbo tend to be really resilient. A lot of terrible stuff happens there, and as a woman, I would never willingly go there. But the people who care about their fam care about them HARD! It's really nice. But seriously, it's still a nightmare there.

And because I can't help myself, mini bonus: The Twelve Tribes of Biansha!!! Okay, I won't actually go into every single tribe, but I adore the detail the author put into them! While, overall, they share some values, each tribe has their own thing going on and intertwined history. I love how they weren't just a "mindless evil enemy", but another group of humans with their own wants and needs. Their reasons for fighting are just as valid as Great Zhous! And both sides have done evil crap to "win" so I'm even less inclined to "pick a side". The world building in this story is just too good man. I'd love to one day read a spin off if the author ever felt like it njsduegfi

I don't know if this quite what you meant, but I sure did yap a lot ToT

Thank you for the ask. I went to read your original post and thought it was really fun! Other readers of this post, you can find it here!!!