#seventh heaven high school

[donniemaddens7thhvn]

One of the questions that's stumped me for the longest time is where my mother's and her cult's money is coming from. But the answer was right in front of me for years. The manufacturer of Serenix doesn't exist. In fact, it's not even an approved medication. This Widow's Silk shit they've been using to make Serenix and keep everyone acting like docile cattle has reaped them the rewards of an unending income source. It's deplorable, but what I've learned about her has long since lost its surprise factor over the years.

~💀🖤

[donniemaddens7thhvn]

Yeah, it connects to this cult from my hometown. I don't remember what it means or what sect of the cult uses it. And if I did it'd probably be best if I didn't say anyway /s

OK so I can't reply for some reason, must be a tumblr problem. Someone replied to my post, claiming to have seen this symbol before.

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[heesvnqie]

>>Gata Only- Lee Heeseung FF

pairing: fem!reader x heeseung

word count: 1.9k+

synopsis: You and Heeseung's patrolling session at Hogwarts dungeons turns into a makeout session.

genre: smut, hogwarts au

warnings: >> smut,cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!heeseung x sub!reader, unprotected sex (a big NO-NO), edging, slight overstimulation, creampie, manhandling. petnames

Song playing: Gata Only by FloyyMenor and Cris MJ

Notes: My two absolute favourite things together!

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As you walked through the cold corridors of Hogwarts, a shiver ran down your spine. You were running late for patrolling.

One male and one female student were chosen from each house in their fifth year to act as prefects. They would continue to be prefects in their sixth and seventh years until they left school.

From Gryffindor, you were chosen as the female prefect. But compared to the male prefect, you were nothing.

The male prefect was none other than, THE Lee Heeseung. He was a ace, a perfectionist, most popular boy of Hogwarts. Starting from juniors to seniors, 99% of them knew him. He was a pureblood, a son from one of the well-known families of the wizarding world.

While on the other hand, you were not from a pure blood family. Though you had great academics and also were a perfectionist but not even close to Lee Heeseung's level.

This evening, just before you left for patrolling, you had been called out by Professor McGonagall. She complimented you on your being the prefect for the hundredth time since you had got the position and presented a long speech on how the position should not change your attitude and how you should not consider yourself above others.

So, now you found yourself walking towards the dungeons. Your area of patrolling was usually near the Great Hall. But Snape had asked you and Heeseung to patrol near the dungeons rather than the Great Hall.

You reached the dungeons as you fixed your skirt and made sure that the shirt was tucked in properly. You fixed the cloak as you held your chin high as you walked down the stairs into the dungeons.

It was dark as the dungeons glowed dark green. The Slytherins Common Room was located in the dungeons afterall.

As you walked a few steps into the dungeon, you felt a presence behind you as you sharply turned back.

There stood Lee Heeseung, face inches away from yours. His eyes glinted in the green glow as he smirked.

Your breath hitched as he walked a few steps closer, his body towering over yours.

You had a damn crush. A crush on the boy that stood now infront of you.

Who didn't have a crush on him afterall?

He was all that a girl would want in a man.

This is was surprisingly your third interaction with him. The first one happened during first year on the Hogwarts Express, when you both shared the same train cabin. The second was during the third year, when Snape had paired you two for making Amortentia.

He chuckled as he felt your breath hitch.

"Remember me?" He asked as it caused you to scoff. You pushed him off you as you walked ahead, shouting back,"Who doesn't. The question should be asked by me if you remember me?"

He laughed at your reply as he ran up to you, walking beside you, matching your speed.

"Cute." He muttered under his breath quietly.

"Well, why wouldn't I remember you? Kim Y/N." Hearing your name from him was like heaven. Your composure was threatening to crumble down.

You stayed quiet. You never expected him to remember the name of a person like you who was just a nobody at school.

"Hey why quiet?" He whined as he suddenely stopped in front of you.

You looked up at him with a sign of vulnerability in your eyes.

"Everyone says that we have a spark." He said as your eyes widened and your mouth opened but no sound came out.

Your mind shoots back to the memory to first year when you and Heeseung had shared the same train cabin. You two had had the best time on the Hogwarts Express as you had chatted for hours and laughed away. The other two students who also shared the train cabin had spoke up and pointed out that you two had a spark among yourselves. You two had looked at each other as you both had coughed awkwardly as the train had come to an halt at Hogwarts and you two had scuttled away from each other.

But why was he bringing it up now?

"W-who said that?' You stuttered out.

"Everyone does. I know that you consider yourself as a nobody but that's not correct. You're very popular among the boys." He said with a smile.

"Really?" You were in utter disbelief.

He nods as he steps close as he whispers into your ear, hot breath flowing down,"And I know everything about you."

You look at him bewildered.

"What do you think? My attention is always on you." He said with a chuckle as he held your shoulders and turned you around. Your back now faced him.

"Let's continue patrolling!" He announced happily as he pushed you a bit to start you walking.

You two walked around the dungeons and realised that the dungeons were a HUGE place.

As you two walked towards a isolated place which glowed more green than the other areas, Heeseung pinned you to the wall.

Your breath stuck in your throat, you stuttered out,"W-what are you doing Hee?"

He looked deep into your eyes.

"You know what?" He asked."I cannot hide it anymore."

"I like you."

Those three words made butterflies erupt into your stomach.

"Really?" You ask.

He nods.

"Through all those fangirls and other playgirls, I waited for you. Only you."

You two stand looking deep into each other's eyes as he breaks the silence.

He speaks up with a bit of hesitance. "What about you? Do you feel anything towards me?"

You chuckle at his straightforward behaviour.

"Yes." You hiss out. He chuckles happy as he jumps around the dungeon.

He opens his arms as you accept the hug happily.

"I am the happiest man on earth." He says then he goes quiet as you see a smirk grow on his face.

"Well, well." He takes small steps towards you as you back away till your back hits the cold dungeon wall.

"We're all alone you see." He points out as he continues,"And it's late so nobody will pass through this part of the dungeon."

"S-so?" You ask as he walks close as you feel his warm breath flow on your face.

"I am no playboy, Kim Y/N. " He says as you feel his hand wraps around your waist.

"And right now I want to fuck you." He presses his body on yours and groans as he whispers in your ear. "And now the thing that is left is your permission to allow me to."

You hesitate but soon feel him whisper,"I have waited too long. I can't control it."

He licks your earlobe as he nibbles on it, making your knees go weak and panties damp.

"Heeseung." You breath out his name. He hums while he places wet kisses down your neck.

"Fuck me."

And that were the only two words that Heeseung ever wanted to hear in his life from your mouth.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a heated and intimate kiss. His hands roam your body with a sense of urgency, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches. You respond eagerly, wrapping your hands over his shoulder.

Every touch sparks into flames, as you two forget about your surroundings.

Heeseung groans against your mouth, pressing his body on yours as he rubs his clothed cock on you.

"Oh god. You drive me crazy, you know that? he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

His hands move with confidence and purpose, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. "I can't get enough of this." Heeseung murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck.

Heeseung’s kisses move lower, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, and worshipping your body.

He slips your panties down and slides a hand over your pussy which makes you gasp. You tilt your head back and he makes rounded movements on your clit.

Suddenly he flattens his tongue over you, licking a long line from your entrance to your clit. You cry out again, feeling lightheaded as your hands squeeze into fists. He slides 2 fingers into your slick opening, and you know it won't be long before you're coming.

"Feel good?", he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. Your back arches off the wall, and you struggle to find your voice, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps

"S-so good," you manage to whisper out.

Heeseung’s smile widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He moistens his hand, his fingers gliding over your clit with a newfound slickness, amplifying the sensation. The friction combined with the wetness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out. His movements become more insistent, his fingers expertly playing your body.

Heeseung’s fingers maintain their relentless rhythm, each movement pushes toward your climax.

His fingers dive lower, exploring your wetness before returning to your clit, now wet with your cunt and his cock. He adds a third finger, sliding them inside you, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot that makes your knees almost give out. Your body is caught in a whirlwind of pleasure as you hear him say,"Tell me how much you want this."

"I need you so bad, heeseung. please, don’t stop." You moan out unable to keep quiet.

His eyes darken with desire, and increases the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper inside you. The sound of your wetness fills the dungeons. But you two are not scared of getting caught.

"Come for me. Show me how much you wanted me all these years."

His words is your signal. With a final, high-pitched moan, you come, your body clenching around his fingers, the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

As you calm down, he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight is intense.

Heeseung kisses you, lips claiming yours with a new level of neediness. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you, his breath ragged.

Heeseung’s eyes glow with desire, as he aligns his cock with your entrance, his tip touching your sensitive clit, making you gasp.

Heeseung chuckles darkly as he slams into you, a broken groan leaving his lips. He begins to fuck into you at an ungodly pace and you cling to him, moans and desperate cries leaving your lips. Heeseung's lips find your neck and bite at the skin there as he continues to snap his hips into yours and every time his pelvis connects with yours, you feel going to heaven and back.

"You’re so tight." He groans, his voice rough. "Damn you make me feel so good."

You can only moan in response, your body meeting his thrusts eagerly, the pleasure overwhelming. Heeseung’s movements become more uneven, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The dual sensation is too much, and you feel yourself moving toward another climax.

"Cummming for me again babygirl? yeah?" He says, his forehead still on yours, his breathing ragged.

With a final, powerful thrust, he sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy.

He follows you moments later, his own release tearing through him, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and his body trembling.

You pulls your panties up as you sit down on the dungeon floor tired.

He sits down and pulls you onto his lap."Fuck, you are mine." he bites his lips and places his head in the hollow of your neck.

"Gata Only."

THE END-----

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Hope you enjoyed the story! You can send me your request and ideas! I love reading them. Requests open to be in my perm taglist..

[creepyclothdoll]

I set Angel Free

All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying, 

“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”

She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her. 

So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did. 

She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,

“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”

This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore. 

This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing. 

Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter. 

Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped. 

Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird. 

I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day. 

And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!

She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.

So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her. 

But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.

Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her. 

Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,

“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”

She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand. 

“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.

“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.

“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains. 

That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles. 

“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.

“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.

“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”

“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.

The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.

My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.

I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake? 

I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life. 

Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.

“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”

She looked shocked.

“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly. 

The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again. 

 She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most. 

It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.

“I– I can’t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.

“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed. 

“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”

After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air. 

“It’s cold,” she said. 

“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”

“I think… I like the cold.”

We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.

When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.

We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key. 

Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain. 

“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone. 

And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.

Angel rose from the chair. 

And rose. And rose.

Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air. 

Then twelve. 

Then thirty.

I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air. 

It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.

When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky. 

Then there was nothing.

[orqheuss]

A duel most desirable

(Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

It was a dance, this game— two sharks circling, waiting for the other to bare their teeth and charge, and you had drawn first blood.  *** Emotions are running high, and a friendly duel between you and your best friend, whom you're completely and entirely infatuated with, takes a very...steamy turn.

Word count: 5k

Tags: Sexual content, feral behavior, p n v sex, handjobs, fingering, table sex, rough sex, switch!sebastian and switch!reader, competitive sex, slight breeding kink, possessive!sebastian (but when is he not yf)

AN: I'm back after camping out west for two weeks! Have some feral, animal instinct smut as a "thanks for sticking around" gift from me.

It all began with a simple challenge. Ever since you came to Hogwarts in your fifth year, the discussion of who was the best duelist in the school was a heavily debated topic, particularly between you and your best friend, Sebastian Sallow (the previous best duelist in all of Crossed Wands, as you liked to remind him). Within a week of coming to the new school, you had blown his record out of the water, much to Lucan Brattleby’s delight and the Sallow boy’s chagrin. The brunette challenged you often, and every time you wiped the floor with his, quite perky if you said so yourself, behind. Even still, he made it his personal mission to knock you down a peg. Little did the both of you know, it would all cumulate to one particular rapturous battle of fire and passion.

On this particular night, it was just the two of you in the Undercroft; Ominis had long ago gone to bed, with a snarky remark about keeping the “tension” to a minimum in his precious space, of course, as the moon reached its highest peak in the sky. Sebastian scoffed at the other boys' retreating form, musing in his mind that there was no such tension between him and you— his newest best friend. Even still, he couldn’t help his eyes flittering over your form every once and a while, admiring how the candles scattered around the space caught on the exposed skin of your forearms and the sliver of skin peaking out from between your skirt and socks. You both lapsed into a pleasant silence, simply enjoying each other's company in the late hours of the evening. Secretly, you agreed with your blond companion, you could feel the obvious desire that scorched the air between you and the Sallow boy— you could take a knife to it and cut it right down the middle. Not that you would want to— heaven’s no. See, that was your other secret: you knew all about how Sebastian felt about you, even if he hadn’t realized it yet himself. You were distinctly aware of how his eyes landed on you often, how his gaze would sometimes burn into you so scorchingly that it felt like your clothes would go up in flames any moment, and you loved it. It had become a game for you to see how far you could tease Sebastian, how far you could drive him into madness before he snapped like a weak-willed man beast. You had been doing this dance for a year at this point, and as the middle of your seventh year drew closer, time was running out for the boy to make a move. Even still, you were not going to be the one to break this silent battle— this push and pull of little flirts and lingering touches (no matter how much Ominis begged you to end the misery of hearing Sebastian lament about you on a daily basis). 

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian was also aware of your fun with teasing him, as well as the mutual feelings that sent both of your hearts aflutter when together. He had decided that he, also, was not going to be the one to snap first. And so, much to the displeasure of everyone around the both of you at any moment of the day, you both continued to dance around your feelings and push the other more and more with increasingly crass whispers and near sinful touches. 

At least an hour later, you both had not moved from your spots, save for the occasional shift here and there. Each twitch of your hips caught the attention of Sebastian, to the point where he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you in some time. His eyes widened significantly after one particular movement shifted your skirt up slightly more, just enough to reveal the strap of your wand holder pillowing the flesh of your thigh, and you silently giggled at the audible hitch in his breath. Up and down, up and down your skirt had been going for the entirety of your time together, and the brunette was in agony. A dangerous smirk pulled at the corners of your mouth, the plan that had been brewing in the darkest corners of your mind slowly moving its way to the space just behind your temple. Flicking your irises up from the book adorning your lap and meeting your beguiling friend’s gaze finally, your gut began to burn at the hunger you found groveling in his pupils. It was time to put the next step in motion. 

Just as the boy was about to speak, your voice cut through the silence of the secret hideaway. “Sebastian, care for a duel?” 

A smile began to break the stony exterior of Sebastian’s face, something delightful but deadly tempting you in the way his shoulders squared in confidence. His wand audibly swished through the air as he stood, pushing the chair back with his foot before taking up his normal battle stance. You could hear the slight tease in his voice as he spoke— the playful fire that no one else ever saw from the dashing Slytherin, save you. 

“You’re on, sweetheart.” 

You stood from the settee you were lounging in, taking care to sway your hips slightly more as you strode to the other side of the room from him, adopting a similar stance and preparing your first strike. 

Sebastian’s lower stomach warmed, the butterflies banging against his gut catching fire under the scrutinizing gaze you had him locked in. He could feel the obvious power shedding off of you in waves, wrapping around his throat and squeezing before the battle even began. It was intense, otherworldly— a force stronger than anything natural, and he loved it. There was something so encapsulating about your strength, something that drew him into your orbit since day one. It took him like a forest fire takes ruined trees, quickly, ferociously, and with intense fervor. 

A basic cast struck his chest suddenly, sending him stumbling back a number of paces. His eyes quickly focused on you again, the slight pain shaking him from the daydream he had been sucked into for a moment. The smirk on your face grew even more, nearing the point of mocking as you stood watching him, your arms crossed across your chest and your foot impatient tapping at the ground. 

“Do pay attention, won’t you?” You purred. 

Sebastian’s eyes flicked between yours, how they were alight with a borderline evil glow, and the way your chest squeezed over the top of your crossed forearms, the soft flesh breaching through the button holes of your top like two loaves of fresh baked bread. He fought the desire to lick his lips. 

Yes, ma’am. 

The brunette held your gaze as he stood to his full height, taking his wand between his teeth and beginning to carefully undo each button of his school jacket. He haphazardly shucked the fabric from his form, wasting no time to do the same with his forest green vest before working on the buttons adorning the cuffs of his pressed dress shirt. It was your turn to begin to feel flustered, a slight blush coloring the apples of your cheeks with each inch of tanned, freckle covered skin revealed. The way the tiny flames of the braziers lining the walls danced against the veins lining his forearms made your mouth water— you wanted to bite into that flesh, wanted to feel the body heat of his palm pressed against your neck as he had his way with you. 

Sebastian loudly cleared his throat, a mischievous look in his eye and a laugh in his smile as he raised his eyebrow at you, silently questioning your sudden silence and lack of composure. 

Tease.

You huffed, furrowing your brow in anger and embarrassment as you holstered your wand again, doing the same as he did with your clothes and throwing them into the corner. Not one to be outdone, instead of just loosening the tie around your neck (which left a dastardly tantalizing view of the brunette’s collarbones) you took it off completely, slowly pulling it from your neck and letting it glide down your arm as your eyes drank the Sallow boy in. For one final tease, you unbuttoned the top two clasps of your shirt, giving him the smallest taste of your cleavage. You raised your eyebrows at him like he did you, knowing that you were beginning a very dangerous game— one that you knew he couldn’t resist. 

It was a dance, this game— two sharks circling, waiting for the other to bare their teeth and charge, and you had drawn first blood. 

 Sebastian frowned deeply, releasing a soft sound akin to a growl that sent a spike of arousal down your spine, and quickly shot a basic cast back, watching as it bounced harmlessly against the shield you generated. 

A silent sentence passed through the both of you, your eyes glowing in the low lamplight. 

Let the games begin. 

You chuckled darkly, listening to your explosive Confingo sing through the air only to be silenced by a loud shout of Protego. Levioso’s were met with Stupefy’s, Bombarda’s were expertly dodged as they slammed into the crates just beyond your view. Even a Diffindo or two could be heard (but don’t tell Ominis that. He banned you from the spell after you nearly sliced Sebastian’s head off one day). You danced around the room like an expert ballet dancer, your wand movements matching your feet in an elegant show of control and grace. Sebastian was enraptured by your beauty as you pushed him farther into the room, sending him stumbling back more and more. Sweat gathered at his brow, dripping down the side of his face and dampening the collar of his shirt. Your eyes carefully followed each of the droplets as they fell, only shifting your gaze away whenever another spell was launched in your direction. The brunette was no better, his own stare locked on the way your chest heaved against your breaths, your own sweat beading along your clavicle and tumbling delicately down the valley between your breasts. He sent two red-toned spells in your direction, them slamming against your shield in succession and creating an enticing incarnadine glow on your skin. A wicked smile stretched across your face as you glowered at your opponent; a look that said “You shouldn’t have done that,” taunting in your victory-hungry eyes. 

Sebastian couldn’t decide if he should feel scared or aroused. He settled on both.

You quickly fired back, your Depulso sending him slamming into the side of the table just behind him. His breathing came out in heavy pants as you inched closer, a lioness approaching her newest meal. He shouldn’t feel so desiring, so lustful about the look of triumph in your eyes. This side of you always intrigued him, the side that smiled at the Ashwinder's you conquered and blasted them to smithereens without a second thought. You raised your wand, preparing your final blow while your eyes drank him in hungrily. 

Unfortunately for you, but very fortunately for your prey, you had a tendency to stew in your wins prematurely. You always finished every duel the same, and this time he was prepared for it. 

You grinned at him, your eyes alight with laughter as you calmly spoke your final spell. 

“Descend—”

“Expelliarmus!”

Just as fast as you had flicked it into your palm moments ago, your wand was quickly thrown from your grasp, the small piece of wood flying through the air and clinking against the floor just out of reach. Your eyes widened in shock at the slight smirk on Sebastian’s face, his wand still smoking lightly in his left hand as his right held him steady against the table you had thrown him into. 

“Accio!”

He fired a second spell at you, the magic snagging on your clothes and pulling you through the air, smacking your front against his. His wand arm wrapped around your waist, your faces barely a hair's length away from each other as you fought for balance. Your breaths mingled in the space between your parted lips, each sigh heaving more and more oxygen into the other's lungs and vice versa— his inhales your exhales. He smelled intoxicating, a mix of mint and leather, a hint of the distinct smell of the old books he loved to pour over and the ash of the fire spells he loved so much hiding just under the surface. Flicking your gaze upwards, you stared directly into his eyes, finding them already trained on your face. His brown irises swirled with a feeling you were unfamiliar with, something similar to want, or need, or some intriguing, undiscovered third option. Sebastian’s pupils dilated with desire, his eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your hot pants against the junction of his neck and across his cheeks. His heart stuttered as your hands gently moved up his chest, your fingers splayed open as you felt the heat of his skin through his thin cotton shirt. 

You were the one who broke first, your hand reaching up that last little bit and winding around his low hanging tie, tugging him down to your level and slamming his lips into yours. He responded just as eagerly, his lips capturing yours with a ferocity you’d only ever seen from him in the most heated of battles and his arms wrapping tightly around your waist like a python capturing a mouse. He quickly lifted you off the ground, using the gasp you released as an opportunity to let his tongue begin to explore your mouth as he turned you both around, throwing you down onto the table and slotting himself between your thighs. Your kisses were bruising, each one more rough and clouded with more desire than the last. Nearly three full years of pining cumulated in that moment, bursting forth like a broken dam and sending a monsoon of lust into both of your veins. The brunette that had you tangled in his arms bit your lips harshly, sending a soft tumbling moan from your throat as he began to kiss his way down your jaw, his hands gliding up your arms and chest until he found the buttons of your shirt. 

You laugh breathily, little sounds of pleasure escaping through your parted lips with each love bite he sucked onto your skin. “Eager, ahh, are we?” 

He bit harshly at where your neck met your shoulder, pulling a whimper from the very depths of your soul. 

“You have no idea.” 

His fingers made quick work of your shirt, shucking the fabric from your shoulders at a speed that would make light itself jealous and flinging it to Merlin knows where. He pressed open mouth kisses to the new skin he had unearthed, admiring the way the tops of your breasts looked poking out of your chemises low neckline. Licking a stripe up your neck, the boy blew on it gently while he pawed at your chest, sending an earthquake level shiver up your entire body with sinful infatuation. 

You could feel every soft brush of his lips against your ear when he spoke, his hot breath warming you deliciously. “You have no idea how much I want you.” 

He bit the cartilage of your ear, causing your breath to hitch in eagerness. 

“How much I have wanted you since we first met.” 

You pulled him closer again, your teeth clashing together in your need for him to be as close as possible— hell, impossibly closer. Your hands wracked up the front of his shirt again, fingers digging into the holes separating some of the buttons and yanking with all of your might, pulling the two halves from each other and sending the clasps to the floor like the twinkle of tiny stars against the night sky. You had to show him that you wanted him just as much— that you desired him from the very beginning as well. Sebastian hissed at the feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back, pressing his hips as close to yours as humanly possible and allowing you to grind against the hard length that had been tenting the fabric of his pants for some time. You took this opportunity to begin kissing down his throat, marking him as yours just as he did to you. With fumbling fingers and tiny moans spilling from his lips with every press of delicious friction against his groin, he undid the buttons of your skirt, throwing it to the floor before sliding your chemise up your body and over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. Your deft fingers quickly undid the button of his trousers, letting him tug them and his pants to the floor to be kicked in some unknown direction like every other piece of your uniform. 

You behaved like wild animals in heat, your feral sides taking over as soon as you both were free of your clothing. Papers on the desk behind you were quickly swept to the side, your body soon taking their place as Sebastian pressed you to the wood with all his weight. You could feel his manhood rubbing against the inner skin of your thigh and you keened at him, grinding your hips upwards into his and pleading for him to just finally take you. He was quick to respond, carding his hand down your side with a burning heat and letting his palm settle between your legs. With a precision you didn’t know he had in him, he ran a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness gathered there and locating the tiny button at the top of your cunt that made you see stars. 

He groaned deep in his throat, the sound dangerously close to a guttural growl as he mouthed hotly against the apex of your right breast. 

“Merlin. So wet for me, just from a little duel. I could just slide right in there already, no prep needed. So ready for me, my perfect girl—” 

His praise was cut off by your hand grasping at his throbbing cock, your soft skin dragging up his scorching skin like an ice cube on a hot summer day. He threw his head back at the feeling of you stroking him, his mouth open in a toothy smile and a silent moan breathing into the air around you. 

You smiled, eyelids slightly twitching as his finger rubbed tighter circles on your swollen clit. “Not so cocky now, are we, Sebastian?” 

His head pitched forwards again, his chin roughly smacking into his chest as he laughed breathlessly. With a quick movement he switched the fingers playing with you, instead pressing his thumb to your nub and sliding his middle finger into your winking opening. Your wanton moan filled the Undercroft, echoing off the tall ceilings and only being swallowed by the terribly ugly shag rug you conjured onto the floor last year during a particularly cold winter. 

Sebastian’s voice rumbled against your chest. “You’re one to talk, dove. Snake got your tongue?” 

You thread the fingers of your left hand into his soft curls, tugging him harshly towards your neck and shoving his face against your pulse point. He laughed again, a dark thing that made the spool of thread in your stomach knot tighter as he worked you closer to your climax, and bit lightly at your skin, seceding to your whims. 

Screw this little game of yours, his fingers felt too good for you to care anymore. 

Your moans mingled together in the air around you as your hand sped up, pumping his cock with quick motions. Sebastian buried his face into your neck, his unruly hair tickling your face as he moaned unabashedly into your skin, his teeth nipping you whenever your thumb ran over his slit. He in turn thrust into you at a more bruising pace, adding a second finger to your weeping, needy cunt and curling his fingertips against that one spot that made you scream with earth shattering pleasure. The both of you crept closer and closer to your orgasm, seemingly treating making the other finish as a continuation of your challenge— a second duel of the sinful kind. 

A sudden, very loud mewl that flew from your open mouth seemed to bury deep in the mind of the brunette, causing him to pull his hand from your center, yanking yours from his member with the same velocity before surging his hips closer, rubbing his length against your slick folds. The tip of his cock rammed against your clit with each delightful thrust, causing you to rut against him with a ravenous appetite, your voice howling into the air like a lone dire wolf searching for its pack. Sebastian’s groans answered your call— a truly feral, instinctual game of call and response in your metaphorical animalistic wild.  

The Sallow boy stilled his movements as his voice reached its peak, his orgasm just on the precipice and threatening to spill over. You whined deep in your throat, desperately grinding your hips against his once again until his forearm stopped you. You were so close, one more thrust and you surely would have toppled over the edge. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes from the lava that set your pelvis aflame. 

Sebastian heaved oxygen into his lungs, biting his lip and attempting to starve off his finish before he could get to the part he has been longing for. He timidly met your eyes, his irises soft and pliant. You gapped at all the emotion he held there; you could see love swirl around his dilated pupils, longing in the streaks of dark, almost black-ish green stemming from the centers, lust in the deep, mahogany brown that took over the rest of his eye, and finally vulnerability— nervousness— in the black circle that ensnared all of the colors together like a biogenic piece of twine. The boy softly pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes falling closed once again as he continued to try and catch his breath around the words he needed to say. 

“I can’t take it anymore. I need to be inside of you. Please, darling, can I? Can I claim you as mine?” 

That dangerous smirk took over your face again at the whine threading at the edges of his voice. “Can I claim you as mine, as well? Can you be my beautiful boy?” 

Sebastian whimpered at your words, liking being called yours a bit more than he originally thought, as he unconsciously rutted against you again. You sobbed at the feeling, your head nodding before the words even left your mouth. 

“Shit! Gods, yes! Make me yours, Sebastian.” 

His lips surged towards you, capturing you in another bruising kiss as he lined himself up at your entrance, pushing in slowly but with purpose. You both groaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, swimming in the sudden influx of pleasure that wrapped you both in a warm, steamy hug. He was completely filling you up, each ridge of his member rubbing in the most arduous way along yours with every inch pushed deeper inside. Sebastian pressed delicate kisses to your skin as he slid more into your awaiting heat, sending a flutter of love into your stomach and loosening your muscles like a perfect cup of tea. After a moment he finally hit home, his pelvis flush with yours as you became completely connected. You didn’t even need to wait for the stretch to stop burning before you were a writhing mess underneath him, begging and pleading for him to move— to do something to get rid of this ache in your loins. He easily complied, needing very little persuasion to rock his hips with yours, pulling out halfway before surging forwards again in a sweet taste of euphoria. You sang together like cicadas on a southern spring night, moaning with fervor as your peaks fast approached for the second time that night. Sebastian slammed roughly into you, absolutely wolfish in his impulses to claim you as his, to spill his seed deep inside of you until you were completely filled with him and only him. He had a primal desire inside of him to make you the mother of his children, and as loud as the voice in the back of his head told him that you both were too young, his beastly side continued to scream louder and louder at him as he got closer and closer to finishing. 

You weren’t much better at this point. You could feel your walls tightening around him with each little spasm of your approaching orgasm— every time his head would hit your g-spot with a rabid lust. You wanted to feel him empty inside of you, for his essence to pool inside of you and spread the warmth that you feel in your heart whenever he was near to your whole body. With what little strength your jelly-filled muscles had left, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer and digging your hand in his hair once again, the other scratching down the entirety of his back and leaving long red welts. 

He growled in your ear, biting your shoulder with all his strength and drawing blood at the new deepness he was able to reach. He lapped like a Saint Bernard at the pebbling red liquid, feeling along the ridges his teeth left with his tongue and smiling slightly at his work. He could feel his orgasm getting closer and closer, and with a gravelly voice he murmured against the column of your neck. 

“Fuck, so close, baby. You want me to come inside? Huh? You want me to fill you up entirely?” He groaned headily as your hips bucked, his dirty talk doing something ungodly to you. His hips began to stutter and lose rhythm as he approached the precipice. “Want me to remember this moment whenever another man talks to you— touches you? Remember how it felt to fill you to the brim with my seed so no one else ever can?” 

You whined, long past words from the levels of rapturous pleasure that coursed through your system. Both of your hands clung to his shoulders as you held on for dear life, nails digging deep into his skin and creating little crescent moon-shaped scrapes. He pounded into you like a man possessed, dragging sounds from you that you had never heard even in the latest of nights— your bed curtains closed and all of your roommates at home for the winter holidays as you pumped your fingers deep into yourself over and over, the same boy’s name on your lips as every other time. The volume of your wails only grew louder as you inched closer to your finish, your legs wrapping even tighter around Sebastian’s thrusting hips as the only coherent thing that fell from your moaning lips was “inside, inside, inside.” 

With a final stutter of his hips, Sebastian released inside of you with a grand growl, his teeth once again latching onto the supple skin of your neck like a dog going in for the kill. You fell over soon after him, screaming into the night as every vein in your body was set alight with uproarious pleasure and a dash of pain. You both twitched as the last bits of your release shocked through your bodies, sending tiny whimpers from both of your lips as over-stimulation began to set in. With one last long groan, Sebastian carefully extracted himself from you, laughing slightly at the small sob that you let out when his tip rubbed against your sensitive clit. You both looked at each other for a moment, eyes taking in the sweat that beaded on your temples and the hair that stuck to your skin, the new scars that decorated your necks, shoulders, and various other stretches of skin, before dissolving into giggles. The brunette fell forwards again, wrapping his arms around the back of your neck and pressing your face into the junction of his throat. You hugged him to you, feeling his joy seep into the space around you and become one with yours. There was nowhere else you’d rather be at that very moment. 

 This time it was Sebastian to break first, releasing his hold on you and pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. He found the same emotion that he held in his before glowing in yours, a lovely concoction of love and acceptance burning into his corneas like the brightest of sun rays. 

You smiled wide at him, tired eyelids lowered but all of your teeth on display in a show of true happiness, and whispered against his lips. 

“Call it a tie?” 

The boy laughed loudly, mirth dancing in his eyes as he gently kissed you on the forehead. 

“Agreed. A tie sounds about right.” 

He smiled at you again, that same devious look shining in his eyes and mischief laughing behind his clamped teeth, as he began to kiss down your chest. Your breath grew deeper for the third time that night, your hand coming up to card through his hair and pull lightly at the root to gain his attention.

“Seb, w-what are you—” 

He quietly shushed you, stopping your sentence in the middle as he explained. 

“I have to clean up my mess, don’t I?” He laughed at your deep inhale, kissing one of the freckles he discovered on the top of your mound. “Just point me in the right direction.” 

He laughed again at your frantic nod before spreading you open once again and diving into your sweet center. 

It would be hours until the both of you emerged, newly invigorated but so, so tired all the same. 

And if the Undercroft were to smell like sex the next day when Ominis returned, well, that was a problem for future you.

***

like what you read? here's more!

[dawsonscreekwasalwaysbad]

one thing about cultural christianity that i don't see talked about enough is that i think it's something a lot of jews can also fall victim to. especially if you live in an area where there aren't a lot of other jews and so you don't have easy access to resources like hebrew school and synagogue and jewish centers. but also even if you do. i'm jewish, i grew up jewish, both my parents are jewish and so are their parents and so were their parents, plus i grew up and still live in a highly jewish area, where schools took off for the high holidays. most of my peers went to hebrew school, and seventh grade was universally considered bar mitzvah season. and i took those things for granted. as a kid i chose not to go to hebrew school, not to get bat mitzvahed, and so much of what i know now about judaism—about jewish culture, jewish traditions, jewish holidays, jewish values, jewish beliefs—i only learned from being on tumblr.

when i was younger, like five or six, i asked my mom what happens after you die, and she said that your soul goes to heaven. and so for years i thought heaven and hell were universal beliefs. i didn't learn that jews don't believe in heaven or hell until my late teens. and in hindsight i can see why my mom told me that—you don't really want to scare a little kid by telling them that when you die you're just dead. but still.

and i grew up celebrating christmas. not in the sense that my family would go to chinese restaurants and see a movie in theaters, but in the sense that we put up a tree and raced downstairs first thing in the morning to open presents under the tree and gather with our extended family and eat christmas ham. still, there are a lot of christmas traditions we don't partake in, like stockings and caroling and elf on the shelf. the other day i had a friend come over and i showed her how many jewish ornaments were on my christmas tree—we have a star of david, a rabbi bear, and our tree topper is a dreidel—and she said something about it being a nice intersection of cultures. and it felt weird to hear her say that. i don't blame her for it, i know she meant well, but it would make more sense for someone to say that about someone with one jewish parent and one christian parent. and like i said, both my parents are jews. christianity doesn't intersect with my jewish culture, it invades it. maybe it was sort of a wake up call for me: you can decorate a christmas tree as jewishly as you like, but at the end of the day it's still a christmas tree. and so whenever i explain to people that i didn't have a bat mitzvah or that i celebrate christmas, it makes me feel like a bad jew.

i don't mean to imply that celebrating christmas makes you less jewish, or that you should be ashamed of yourself if you do. i just feel that way about myself. it's sort of that mentality of "everyone's valid except me," how there are things you say about yourself that you would never ever say about a friend. personally i would love to stop celebrating christmas, but i don't think i'll ever be able to, because even if/when i move out, my family will keep inviting me home for the holidays. and they have every right to. my family loves christmas, they love celebrating it, and i can't force them to stop. that's their choice. this holiday sparks joy for them, but for me it just sparks frustration and fatigue. and i don't want to ruin it for them, but i do want them to understand why i'm tired of celebrating an extremely hegemonic holiday.

idk if i'm articulating this well. i'm not really involved in the "discourse" around cultural christianity to begin with, but whenever i see it talked about it's usually in reference to atheists who used to be christian. but it's a lot more pervasive than that and i don't see that acknowledged very often.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 48

The Eleventh Doctor and the Fifteenth Doctor once worked together in an attempt to free a woman named Nora Wicker from a time bubble, but before they could do so, Nora confided in the Eleventh and told him she wished to stay. (Audio: The World Tree)

The first alien planet Rose went to was Justice Alpha. Before that, she had only been to space stations and ships. (Novel: The Monsters Inside)

The Eleventh Doctor keeps the Second's recorder in his pocket sometimes. (Novel: Shroud of Sorrow)

Chad Boyle frequently tormented Ace as a child. At one point, he almost hit her with a brick, but he was stopped by an older version of Ace. If he had hit the younger Ace, he would have killed her. (Novel: Timewyrm: Revelation)

There are several academic cities on Gallifrey, including Prydos, Patrexi, and Arcalia. (Novel: The Garden of Evil)

The Oldharbour Clock is a really old clock near the Capitol on Gallifrey. It is intricately decorated with little figures that dance with every chime of the hour. These figures, however, gained sentience and are actually the most intelligent beings on the entire planet. (Novel: The Infinity Doctors)

Lake Abydos on Gallifrey is home to singing fish. Romana's family spent a lot of time here, and she used to swim in the water when she was young. (Audio: Neverland)

After being resurrected, the Celestial Intervention Agency allowed the Master to read up on the Doctor’s past, making him aware of what happened to Lucie, Tamsin, and Alex. (Audio: Masterplan) This also means the Master is probably aware of any major events in the Doctor’s life from before that time as well.

The Doctor once saved Peter Capaldi from a Mandrel and Peter Davison from a Krynoid. (Comic: The Girl Who Loved Doctor Who)

The Eleventh Doctor said that the TARDIS has a GPS with the voice of Davros. (Audio: Trouble in Paradise)

Leela had a sister named Ennia, who was killed by Horda at three years old before Leela was born. Their mother killed the Horda with a knife, the same one Leela carries. (Novel: Eye of Heaven)

Ophiuchus was a Time Lord healer who managed to overcome the regeneration cycle limit on thirteen incarnations. For this, the High Council declared him a renegade, claiming that he had to do things such as vivisection to extend the lives of Gallifreyan criminals. (Comic: Ophiuchus)

Some Time Tots keep rovies as pets. (Audio: No Place Like Home)

Susan was 97 when she applied to Coal Hill School. (Novel: The Time Lord Letters)

Jane Templeton was a trainee Time Lord attending the Academy. She got stranded in Ancient Egypt and lost her TARDIS, which had taken on the appearance of a shabti figure. By the time she found her TARDIS, she was in her thirteenth incarnation, and her TARDIS was so degraded that the Seventh Doctor said it should be euthanized, which would involve flying it into the heart of a star. Since she had impersonated the god Thoth, she was guilty of class 2 intervention, the punishment for which is vaporization. Instead of letting the Doctor save her, she slipped into her own TARDIS and died with it. (Audio: False Gods)

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[weirdcoreboy]

I Hate You- But I'm Not A Monster

G/T Gotcha For Gaza 2024! @gtgotcha4gaza / @smallsday Prompt: Two normal-sized characters are enemies, but character A puts aside their differences to help character B when B suddenly shows up tiny / having shrunk. Despite this, B is afraid that A will hurt them in their vulnerable state. (You can use any characters for this, and if you don't like the prompt, feel free to modify or shorten it as you see fit!)

-----

Vincent Feldman, aged 22, thought that the hardest thing in his life would be high school. But noooo, bullies are in college too, apparently. Between homework, parties, and his bully, Damien Blackwood, he wasn't sure how he was staying afloat.

But what happens when a mysterious package shows up at his door?

I Hate You- But I'm Not A Monster - weirdcoreboy - No Fandom [Archive of Our Own]

__________________________________________________________

Vincent stared at the blank screen in front of him, the empty Gaggle page seemingly taunting him for not being able to write a single line of this stupidly hard project he had to write for his college. He pouted before glancing at the clock and gasping in horror as he realized what time it was. 11:45 PM. Well… crap.

He gritted his teeth and reopened the laptop, typing furiously. He had forgotten that the assignment Professor Tayman had assigned him- the one he was writing- was due the next day. Er…well, to be more precise, in fifteen minutes. He swallowed nervously. This would most definitely be an…interesting presentation tomorrow. He could almost see it- him wobbling to the front of the room, most likely sleep-deprived- and then mumbling out his essay to the other twenty students in the class. He stifled a snicker just thinking about it, before he stopped and sighed, thinking back to what happened the previous week. First, there was Damien. Damien was your typical emo that looked like he hadn’t been out in the sun for at least his whole life, and by that I mean the sort of person who would probably get a sunburn from a flashlight. Hell, Vincent wouldn't have bee surprised if the guy hadn’t seen any form of light since he was in the hospital after getting born. He had (definitely dyed) black hair that covered his right eye and was down to his shoulders in what was either a messily done wolf cut or a mullet done by a blind person on steroids. If that wasn’t bad enough, he constantly had the annoying seventh-grade ‘I’m so cool, I’m so special, look at me’ aura, despite the fact he was wearing what Vincent privately thought was the ugliest black skull tank top and black cargo pants with chains all over them in the world, making him sound like a human jingle bell. What was even worse about this guy was the fact he was twenty-two. A legal adult as well as the same age as Vincent himself.

Although…he couldn’t say much himself. He glanced down at his ruffled shirt with polka dots on it, which earned him the nickname ‘clown boy’ in school. He wrinkled his nose in distaste thinking about all of Damien’s teasing remarks on it. Again, the man was twenty-two, for heaven’s sake. He shook his head violently, trying to clear his thoughts. “Ugh! I am not letting some emo loser ruin my day! He can go die in a hole, for all I care!” he exclaimed, before ducking his head in embarrassment as he realized he said that aloud. “I mean…whatever.” he muttered to himself, before he heard the doorbell ring, making him jump and fall out of his chair. “Ow…why does my stupid apartment have to install such loud door…whatever.” he grumbled, rubbing his head before getting up and taking out his phone, checking his outfit and makeup before going to the door. “Who is it?” he asked before just opening the door, not bothering to check. Admittedly, that wasn’t the best idea, as he immediately got pelted in the face by rain. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but…wow, that hurt. “Augh-?!” he managed out, getting water in his mouth immediately. He spat it out and shielded his eyes with his hands, looking up, then down and spotting a box. ‘Seriously?! What the hell-?!’ he thought to himself before picking it up. ‘This better be good…’ He shook the box and could’ve sworn he heard a muffled, tiny…human-like scream coming from it, but…it was probably just the rain. Right? Right??? He sighed and brought the box to the kitchen, checking his phone for emails. No…he hadn’t ordered anything recently. His binder had come in the previous day, and he didn’t have anything else out for delivery. So…what was this thing? It wasn’t labeled, and it was dripping all over his counter. “You know what, random box?” he said to it, “I’m just gonna assume this is a glitter bomb and…” he grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer and stabbed it in, “Not open it carefully. I’m already sparkly enough.” he joked to himself, tearing the box open. He didn’t notice the muffled screams coming from it as he finished opening it, staring inside to find…absolutely nothing. “Oh, come on…” he whined to himself as he reached into the seemingly empty box, feeling around the edges until he felt a small, ping-pong ball-sized object. He squeaked in surprise as the thing moved, curling up tighter in his palm, “I don’t…what?” he mumbled, lifting it out of the box and staring at the trembling ball of what appeared to be charcoal. “Eh-?!” he let out a squeak of surprise, nearing dropping it as it jumped in his hand. 

“Uhm…” he was at a loss for words as he poked the thing, hearing it squeak. “I’m sorry!! Sorry…” he apologized as the doll…thing…tiny human…? uncurled itself and looked up at him, and he immediately recognized the man. 

“D-Damien…?” He stammered out, noticing how the other man immediately flinched and started trying to get out of his grip. “Wait, wait wait hold on—“ he said as he held him tighter, earning a squeak from the poor boy in his hands. “Wait, no, I’m sorry-“ he apologized, loosening his grip as Damien screamed in a tiny voice, making his heart break a bit. 

“Let me go, you freak!!” The emo boy screeched out as he squirmed, the chains on his pants catching on Vincent’s nails and making the whole situation even worse. “Were you the one who did this to me—?!” 

Vincent’s eyebrows shot up. “No, I swear! The package you were in was just delivered to my house in the rain!!” He protested, trying to get Damien to see, but Damien just froze, paling. 

“I-I-“ 

Vincent cut him off. “Come on man, you’re sopping wet and…this happened.” He indicated Damien’s size. “Can we at least just…get you some food and maybe dry…something?” He sighed as Damien stiffened. 

“No.” He hissed, “you are going to tell me what I’m doing here and what happened.” He hissed, trying to seem tough, but his voice shook at the end.

“I don’t know man, seriously!” Vincent exclaimed. “You just…showed up, and I don’t know what-!” He was cut off by Damien. 

“How am I supposed to trust your words?” The raven haired boy glared at him, “you and I, we’re enemies, you know that. You could..you could snatch me up and hurt me and—” he started trembling.

Vincent’s eyes went wide, “Dude, look at me-“ he began, using a finger to tilt Damien’s chin up to look at him. “First of all, you started our ‘rivalry’, whatever it was…and whatever your little emo heart is thinking, I’m not planning on hurting you. We haven’t gotten physical once, and I’m not going to break it.” He finished. After a moment of silence, he added, 

“Also, I’m the only person here, so it’s not like you have any other words to trust.” 

Damien huffed, knowing he couldn’t argue. “Clothes, then food, then talk?” He finally muttered out as Vincent smiled. This was…progress. Maybe. He still noticed the small shake in Damien’s voice and he tried his best to reassure him as he put the boy on the counter. 

“Clothes, then food, then talk.” He parroted. With that, he turned to find something for Damien to wear, despite their massive size difference. Hell, he’d even sew something up for him to wear. After a bit, he found something perfect.

“Damien!” He called back as he came back into the kitchen with the clothes before spotting an empty counter. His blood ran cold as he stared. “Damien…?” He paled, 

“Damien, talk to me. Where are you?” He said frantically before looking at his platform boots, suppressing a gagging noise as he thought about what had happened. He checked his boots, which were clean- thank goodness- before throwing them across the room and watching his steps. 

“Hey…Damien, it’s safe, I promise.” He whispered as he carefully walked up to the counter, noticing a trail of water droplets that led to a cereal box. He moved there quickly, putting a hand on the box to move it before hearing something- probably a scream, but at Damien’s size, it was more of a squeak. 

“Stop!!” 

The blonde immediately retracted his hand with a gasp. “Sorry, sorry—“ he mumbled out before an idea came to mind. “I won’t move it…” he began, a smile coming to his face, “but you have to talk to me.” He coaxed. A few seconds passed before he heard a muffled, “Fine.” coming from behind the box. 

Vincent sat down, leaning against the counter, “So, Damien…how are you feeling?” He asked. He heard a dry laugh in response. 

“Besides waking up in a box and getting held like a toy by my enemy…? I just feel…am I dreaming?” Damien sighed, “I mean, I seriously couldn’t have just…gotten shrunk by someone..and then somehow mailed to Vincent freaking Feldman, literally the dumbest person in school and-“ he cut himself off, obviously realizing his predicament. 

Vincent, however, only laughed. “gee, thanks for the description. I’m flattered. Is that how it happened though? Some guy just…decided to shrink you? Why?” 

“I don’t know…” Damien replied. “But I feel kinda…I feel stupid, like this is just another thing proving how I’m just a worthless idiot and-“ he was cut off by Vincent standing up. 

“Hey! I won’t let you say those things about yourself.” He flared, instinctively moving and slapping away the cereal box, the only thing separating the two. He watched Damien pale as the cereal spilled nearby. “I-I didn’t-“ he began as Damien started to back up. “Wait-!” 

“This- this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” The other boy retorted before he could finish. “T-to make me feel safe a-and capture me!” With every word, he backed up a step more until he was just on the edge of the counter.

“Damien, hold on-!” Vincent yelled, reaching for him. “You’re gonna-“ 

Damien’s eyes went wide and he flinched back before falling off the counter with a scream, shutting his eyes tightly and expecting certain death. One second passed…then another…until he finally cracked an eye open. 

“Wh-?” He said as he was being held by Vincent again. The blonde had practically belly-flopped over the counter, laying on his stomach. Damien watched him wince. He flinched as Vincent spoke.

“What the hell, man…” the blonde growled. “Don’t say those things about yourself. I mean it.” He said as he got off the counter, still holding Damien as he lifted him up to eye level.

“Look man. You might be an idiot, but you’re not worthless, no matter what size you are. Besides, you’re my idiot.” 

It took a few seconds for both boys to process that, but when they did, Damien busted out laughing and Vincent just covered his face with his free hand in embarrassment, flushing a deep crimson.

“Anyway!” He exclaimed out, trying to change the subject, “Damien freaking Whitman! Stop laughing!” He said in a mom-like tone, making Damien laugh harder. “What was I saying-? Oh yeah! Clothes, then food, then talk!” He huffed out as he held out Damien’s new clothes. 

“I thought they might suit you. I used to sew doll clothes but this is really nice fabric that I tossed together. Hope you like it?” He managed out, trying to suppress a smile as Damien looked the clothes over.

Damien immediately stopped laughing at the sight. “…Dude, is that a dress? And it’s pink? ” 

Vincent started snickering at his expression, “I think you just invented a new shade of white with how pale you just got…” he managed out as he put Damien and the obnoxiously pink dress onto the table. “I’ll leave you be with your new…friend. Don’t run off again.” He grinned as Damien’s jaw dropped, the raven haired boy looking between him and the monstrosity of a dress.

“Can’t wait to see you in this, bye!” Vincent moved to leave quickly as Damien started shouting.

“Dude- VIN- wait! I’M SORRY FOR LAUGHING-! Don’t make me wear this!” The emo boy begged as the door clicked shut. He could hear Vincent laughing in the hall as he screeched.

“VINCENT FELDMAN!”

__________________________________________________________

[sour-ggrapess]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。heaven at the window 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

𓍢ִ.𖥔 ݁ ˖ yoongi cant help but take what hes been wanting for almost a year

𓆩♱𓆪 heavy ddlg themes, corruption kink and, somonophila, just fucked up

⋆｡˚🩰༝༚ stalker! yoongi x virgin !fem !reader

⊹˚. ♡taglist - @chimmy-licious @shescharlie @bangtanattic

words 2.39k

A nice breeze flows through the suburban, Christian neighborhood as families gather on their porches to enjoy the pleasant weather. Children can be heard laughing and playing in the yards, while neighbors engage in friendly conversations, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Your family practically owned the neighborhood because of your father's role at the church. Your father's position as a respected figure in the church not only gave your family a sense of pride but also garnered immense respect from the community. The neighborhood often turned to your father for guidance and support, further solidifying your family's influence and reputation. You being his only daughter, he held you up on a pedistool and had very high standards for you to live up to. Your father's high expectations for you were not just limited to your behavior and achievements but also extended to your involvement in church activities. 

He believed that as his daughter, you had a responsibility to uphold the family's reputation and continue their legacy of service to the community. This pressure to meet his standards sometimes felt overwhelming, but it also pushed you to strive for excellence in all aspects of your life. when they dedicated themselves to helping others. You had the mind of a saint and the body of a pornstar. In seventh grade, you had to be taken out of private school and start homeschooling because of how hard puberty hit you. Your father found you crying in your room one day due to the sexual harassment you experienced. Boys took advantage of you because they knew you were pure and knew your father wouldn't let you partake in such dirty activities with boys. They'd come to you with obviously sexual questions that made you uncomfortable and violated your boundaries. such as: "Can you squirt?" "Can I have your V card?" "Can I show you the G-spot?" "Have you ever had a nut mask?". Just stupid fucking sexual questions that lacked respect and disregarded your personal boundaries. Your father made sure they were punished but some blame was on you for even knowing what they were saying and engaging in their inappropriate conversation. 

It's summer, and you're planning on going to college this year because you just finished your senior year with honors and achieved all your academic goals. But two people weren't too happy about that, one of whom was your father. He was worried you'd become a whore and do drugs and drink like those crazy frat kids you see on TV. 

2: The other person was your secret admirer that watched you through your window whenever he was hard or was thinking about you , but you never knew about his obsession or even knew he existed. His mom was a faithful goer of the church, and the one day she dragged him to the church, you made a speech in your tight sundress that left him completely captivated and yearning for more. He jerked his cock every night at the thought of you. He thought about how your lips would look around his cock and how your body would feel pressed against his. His memory of you was quite faint because he only saw you once, but once he saw you leaving your house one day, he would make sure he never forgot anything about you. Yoongi would jerk his cock every time he saw you naked and coming out of the bathroom from a shower. He would cum your window and curtains endless amounts of times and leave them there for you to see , as a twisted reminder of his obsession with you. But you thought it was bird poop

made One day, while you were doing your community service, Yoongi felt a little bold and went inside your room. His main target and purpose for going inside was to grab those panties you took off last night. His hands rummaged through the dirty clothes in the basket, grabbing each piece of clothing he wanted as if he were shopping.

He pulled the lacey and slightly damp pants from the basket and brought them to his nose as he took in a deep breath of the slick that was still lingering on the fabric. His dick grew in his black sweat pants, making them feel slightly tight compared to how baggy they were 5 minutes ago. He shimmied his socks and underwear down as his cock sprung up , fully aroused and ready for action. It fought to stay up as it twitched up and down with excitement. Yoongi brought the fabric down to his cock as he adjusted his position, feeling the anticipation building within him. "Fucking shit, right there". Rubbing the cloth along his member as his slit glistened with pre-cum that rubbed against the lacey fabric , he couldn't help but moan softly in pleasure. The soft friction made his orgasm close, and it was clear as day that he wouldn't be able to hold back for much longer. He moaned out as his hips buckled as he shot his load in the lace. He felt pure euphoria and disbelief at how hard he came in that moment. Loud pants are coming from him as he stands there, basking in the afterglow. He realizes his mess as cum drips down onto the floor from his hands and the panties he had been holding. 

 The night is young and humid; your window is open as the breeze from outside flows through, making your curtains blow gently in the moonlight. You lie in bed, feeling the cool air caress your skin and listening to the distant sounds of the city. The peaceful atmosphere lulls you into a state of tranquility, allowing your mind to wander and drift off into a blissful sleep. Tonight was the night you would sleep with no bottoms on , embracing the freedom and comfort that comes with it. 

You laid out on the massage table , feeling the soft sheets against your bare skin as the soothing music played in the background. Strong hands began to work their magic, relieving tension and melting away stress from your body. A sense of relaxation and calmness cut short as one moved down to your bare cunt as they dipped into your folds , sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire being. Moans escaped your mouth, and your back arched off the bed, making the man gazing at you through the window unable to tear his eyes away. His eyes grew wide in shock as he realized you were having a wet dream that he only hoped was about him. Yoongi knew that when you woke up from the dream, you would be pretty disappointed that it wasn't real, but he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire wash over him as he watched you writhe in pleasure. The way your body responded to the imaginary touch, the way your lips formed those intoxicating moans—it was all too enticing for him to resist. Yoongi's mind wandered, imagining himself as the one causing your ecstasy, his hands exploring every inch of your trembling body. He yearned to be the one who could fulfill your desires, giving you the satisfaction you craved. But reality hit him hard, reminding him that he was merely an observer.

He let his intrusive thoughts win as he climbed through the window as his foot sluipped over the little ledge, being careful not to make a noise or mess up the perfect array of plushies that lay still. He was hurrying out of his clothes as he was finally getting what he had wanted for so long, he hurriedly changed out of his clothing. If he didn't get it inside of him within the next five minutes, his cock was going to blow up. The mattress next to your dozing body sank as he stooped on it. His heart beat rappidly as he slipped the damp fabric to the side and revealed your gorgous chubby folds that were drenched with slick, looking like the most beautiful waterfall he had ever seen. The sight was both mesmerizing and enticing. Shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air struck your moist cunt, accompanied by the soothing touch of his fingertips. He spread your legs as he wrapped them around his waist , pulling you closer and deepening the connection between your bodies. He lines his cock up with your drooling hole , ready to satisfy your every desire. Soft groans escape your lips as your walls squeeze and suck him in; he bottoms out as his hips buck. "Fucking shit, so damn tight". The pleasure intensifies as he starts thrusting deeply, sending waves of ecstasy and pain through your body. Your eyes peer open to see him sliding his cock in and out of you with the look of pleasure and desire etched on his face. 

"N-no! Who a-ahhh- a-are you?!" You scream out in shock and horror. "Get off me!" You try to squirm away and push away from him, but his grip only tightens as he continues to ram into you , overpowering you with his strength. "I know your nasty little cunt wants my cock ," he growls menacingly, as you desperately search for an escape from this terrifying yet so pleasurable situation. "How would your dad feel, huh?" "What if I called him in here to come see his little princess all fucked out on my cock?" Your heart races with fear and disgust as his words cut through you like a knife. The thought of your father witnessing such a horrifying scene sends shivers down your spine. You feel deep pleasure, making you unable to fight anymore and forcing you into submission beneath him. You can't help but question your own sanity, sinning right in front of the cross you had blessed by your father for your birthday. as you surrender to the intoxicating temptations of forbidden desires. Loud moans emanate from your throat as you shut your eyes and arch your back into the air , succumbing to the overwhelming rush of pleasure that engulfs your entire being. In this moment, all senses of guilt and rationality fade away, leaving only the raw intensity of your desires to guide your every move. The pain came back as he slowed and started to get rougher with each passing second. "I'm going to fukin destroy you," he growled, his eyes filled with a malicious hunger. You could have sworn he turned into what you had been taught to fear your whole life as the three crosses nailed to your wall turned upside down and emitted an eerie red glow. the devil himself stood before you, ready to claim your soul. You snapped out the dark thoughts as he grasped your chubby tummy, arched his back, and punched at your womb. "OMG!". You came on his cock as your legs shook violently in pleasure and ecstasy. 

His body gave in as he fell over you with his arms supporting him , panting heavily. "Fucking tight and squeezing me, I-ahhhhhhh." Yoongi moaned as he shot a load right into your womb , filling you completely. You felt every bone in your body turn mushy as you realized what you had just done—you had just disobeyed every single rule and boundary that had been set in place. Your heart raced with both excitement and guilt. You felt as if hell was going to drag you into the earth as he rolled off the bed. "Fuking ruined your little sinner pussy" , he sneered with a sinister grin. As Yoongi's words echoed in the room, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you. Shame and regret washed over you as you couldn't believe what had just transpired. The weight of your actions settled heavily on your conscience, leaving you questioning the consequences that awaited you. Your eyes were stuck on the Jesus figure in the corner of your dresser, seeking solace and forgiveness silently. 

"Next time I vist you better be thanking me"

[jenni2bameerah]

You always know best what to do. I count on your for guidance, compassion, support, playfulness, and creative dominance.

I remember that wonderful day when you sat me down and said, "Jennifer, my pretty little gumdrop. I want you to experience all the girly and feminine milestones that you missed out on because you came out after some of the most precious ones passed you by. Until I say differently, even though you are chronologically older, you will now live as my 15 year old daughter." You expected me to commit to my age-regression.

And, OMG, I was in seventh heaven when you took me shopping as your daughter at forever 21, LuLu's, and Steve Madden's for all my wonderful Bratz platform sparkly heels (thanks mom!). Having Mother/daughter conversations with you melts my heart. Having you tell me what to put in my Insta was so helpful. I did set up a Finsta account that you don't know about but it is soooo much fun. I so ate that perfect look!

I know that with the high dose hormones you put me on I sometimes get all moody but I truly I like it when you listen to me so well even when I tell you how hard school is. I still don't get math. Math IS hard. Arrrgh! But I am making friends, even making a bestie and becoming part of a squad and I am so looking forward to the prom.

But the sweetest thing you ever did for me was to give me my own girly room that just makes me feel so pretty, pink, and girly when I am in there. When I first saw how pink everything was and how it was everything in a room that I wished I had when I was younger, I started to cry. Thanks for holding me. My favorite stuffies and dolls are there. My bed is so soft and accented with so many adorbs ruffles. My favorite wall hanging is a poster that I got after you took me to hear that K-Pop band, Q- Pop and that dreamy Akio personally autographed it to me. Then he kissed me on the cheek and told me I had Rizz. TBH he is soooooooo lit!

I even love those moments when you come in and we do each other's hair and nails. Even when you tell me stuff that I think would be so cringe like periods and which boys I like. it all has made us closer. I know you may want me to get back to being your personal maid soon enough and I will.

But right now I just love going into my room by myself and feeling that I finally get to have many of the experiences I didn't get to have. You are the best mother a daughter could ever want. Thank you.

(This story where everyone involved is over 18 was for all the wonderful trans women out there who did not get a chance to experience girlhood until later in life. It is also for all the other gender playful folk who also deserved a very girly childhood and adolescence.)

[donniemaddens7thhvn]

I heard happiness was a warm gun, and I'm inclined to disagree. I've held a warm gun. And I never want to do it again.

~💀🖤

[ameliora-j]

happy twisted tuesday!! okay this might sound rly weird but imagine stepdad bf (could be anyone) x innocent reader who’s in highschool and he picks her up from school and then parks in the middle of the student parking lot and rails her… omg and a bunch of guys walking by and they see the foggy windows and shaky car and reader keeps riding bc it feels too good and she loves her daddy- i’ll stop now 😭

i made her a grad student bc the high school thing made me a little uncomfortable :')

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday ! send in ur dark au requests :>

content: stepcest, stepdad!sonny, age gap, established relationship, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, breeding kink, DARKFIC, THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

you smile as you see the big, black svu that belonged to your stepdad. you skipped over and climbed into the car. "hey, doll face" his staten island accent rang out. "how was your class?" he asks

"hi daddy" you smile, kissing his cheek as you fix your skirt. "school was alright. is work going okay?" sonny was amazing. he started dating your mom when you were a sophomore in college, and married her when you graduated. you and sonny were close, given the fact that your mom was never home and both of you were studying law at fordham. it didn't take long before you and sonny began to develop a physical relationship.

physical developed into a loving one very quickly. how could you not love him? he was the epitome of an angel. "works goin alright, it's work." he sighed. "you want any lunch before i take you home or did you eat on campus?" he asks, beginning to pull around the building and into a parking lot.

"i could eat" you smile softly "where are we going?" you ask curiously as you look around the parking lot.

"i need you to help relax me, doll" he says "can you do that for daddy?" he asks. you smile brightly, bobbing your head in a nod. you would do anything for sonny. "there's my good girl" he smiles, cupping your jaw before giving you a soft kiss.

you smile softly as you kiss him back, gently holding his jaw. he hums softly as he pulls back before climbing into the backseat. "c'mon, doll" he mumbles, patting his thigh. you smile as you climb back with him, straddling his lap and going right back into your kiss as you grinded down on his lap.

he lets out a throaty groan against your lips, gripping your hips as if his life depended on it. he moved your hips for you as you kissed down his neck, his bulge growing against your center, causing the wet patch on your panties to grow as you moaned against his skin. "c'mon doll, ride daddy's cock" he orders, patting your ass to get you moving.

you nod quickly, undoing his belt and pulling his cock free from his black suit pants. he moans quietly as you stroke his cock, his head falling back against the seat. you pushed your panties aside before slowly sinking down on him. sonny's wet lips parted slightly as you slowly sank down on him. "it's so big" you whine as you slowly begin to bounce on him.

"oh i know it is, baby. but you take it so fucking well" he grunts. his thumb finds your clit easily, rubbing gentle circles on the swollen button as you rode him slowly. "you're doing so fuckin good for daddy. takin his big cock in your slutty little pussy" he grunts, gripping your hips tighter as he bounces you on his lap. "i love the way you stretch around me baby. squeezin me so fuckin tight" he grunted.

the car began to shake with the force of your bouncing, windows fogging as the car quickly became humid with you and sonny's heavy pants. you could hear the sounds of people walking past the car, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. not when sonny's cock was pressing perfectly against your gspot and his relentless thumb on your clit was beginning to send you spiraling into seventh heaven.

you moan loudly, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a sloppy kiss as you rode his cock. "'m gonna cum, daddy" you whine softly. "please i need to cum so bad. wanna milk your cock. feel your babies filling me up." you babble.

sonny groans loudly, gripping your hips tightly before beginning to pound up into you. skin slapping on sin combined with your loud moans providing a beautiful symphony for sonny's ears as he approached his thigh. "i feel your little pussy gripping my cock, baby. cum for me" he orders lowly in your ear, not once faltering in his thrusts. "soak your step daddy's cock with your cum baby. and i'll fill you nice and good with my babies. get you nice and round with my seed" you gasp at his words, moaning loudly as your hips falter. you cum hard, absolutely creaming his cock as your body shook on his lap.

you distantly registered the sound of sonny swearing loudly before you felt his cum coating the walls of your pussy. you whine loudly, falling into his chest as you come down from your high. you press yourself against his chest, listening to his beating heart as he rubbed your back gently.

he helped you to come down before you both fixed yourselves and crawled back to the front of the car. "so..." sonny began, rolling down the windows to clear the flog as he began pulling out of the parking lot. "pizza or burgers?" he smiled charmingly at you.

[maya-chirps]

Do you know anything about pre-colonial ilokano culture? Like any practices, myths etc :)

Precolonial Ilokano culture has also been on my radar especially since I myself am of Ilokano descent actually! My ties to the culture had been severed by my Ilokano grandfather after a falling out with his family, but I might be able to get together some sources and articles on precolonial Ilocos some other time.

One of the most popular myths from the Ilokos region that is often taught in schools even outside the area is the Life of Lam-Ang or Biag ni Lam-Ang. This story follows Lam-Ang and different parts of his life from before his birth and up to his peaceful life after all of his adventures. You can read it here alongside a collection of other epics from other Filipino ethnic groups and an English translation here (thanks to a Christian school's English class lol)

From quick research, an article by Jordan Clark of the Aswang Project lists the 1978 book Handbook of Philippine Language Groups as source for knowing the early Ilokano pantheon or at least the generally accepted Ilokano pantheon.

This book identifies Buni as the supreme being of the pantheon, who, from other sources I've seen, is often referenced as someone who has tasked the giants with creation. I can't seem to find the specific myth that exactly references how the world had come to be. Parsua was also identified as a creation deity.

Then there are the deities related to different nature-related and weather-related things which are listed as Apo Langit (Lord Heaven), Apo Angin (Lord Wind), Apo Init (Lord Sun), and Apo Tudo (Lord Rain).

There are also variations listed within the article that had been referenced to have come from the book published in 1952 called the Historical and Cultural Data of Provinces specifically from Vigan, Ilocos Sur, although it seems to have more outsider influence.

Here's the plain-text from the article since it's pretty difficult to find other sources of this myth other than the book and the article:

Cabalangegan was formerly a jungle at the edge of the river Abra. On the far side of the river were mountains high and steep. On these mountains lived an old man named Abra, the father of Caburayan. The old man lived and controlled the weather. It is said that the river Abra was a gathering of water vapor, shaded, and the days were always bright with sunlight. At that time Anianihan, God of Harvests, was in love with Anianihan, Goddess of Healing. Her mother, Lady Makiling knew about their mutual understanding, but Abra did not know it for the three were afraid to tell him since he might punish them as he disapproved of Anianihan. Abra wanted his daughter to marry either Saguday, God of the Wind, or Revenador, God of Thunder and Lightning. This being so, Anianihan took Caburayan from her home. Abra wept a great deal. He sent Lady Makiling away after beating her. When Abra was alone, he wept day and night till Bulan, God of Peace and Calm, came. But though Bulan was there to brighten Abra’s spirits, Abra did not stop weeping. He could not express his anger. He begged the other gods to bring back his daughter. One day the sun, eye of Amman, shone so bright that the water of the river Abra was excessively heated. Smoke rose from the river. Soon, thick, black clouds began to darken the sky. Then Saguday sent the strongest wind until the crowns of the trees brushed the ground. The god Revenador sent down the largest strings of fire. The heaviest of rains fell. All these frightful events lasted seven days. The river Abra then rose and covered the trees. There rose a vast body of water and the highest part of the mountain could be seen. It looked like the back of a turtle from a distance. At this spot Abra lived. On the seventh day, Abra heard a cry. He also heard a most sorrowful song. Abra dried his tears and looked around, but he saw no one. He determined to find Maria Makiling, his grandchild. He did not find her for the cries of the baby had stopped. The search for the baby lasted three full moons, but to no avail and the poor old man returned to his home very sad. He lost all hope. His wits were gone. At that time Maria Makiling was under the care of the fierce dog Lobo, that was under a god of the Underworld. He had been punished by the other gods and that is why he looked like a fierce dog. He was sent down to do charity.

From just the story alone, there's some obvious influences from other cultures such as one of the deities mentioned, Lady Makiling, the mother of Caburayan, having come from Laguna, as well as the usage of the word Lobo to name a fierce dog with the word having come from Spanish.

This may be the reason why this myth isn't regarded as highly as a more authentic version of the precolonial Ilocano pantheon although it is an interesting story still.

I do want to learn more about Ilocano precolonial culture too but that's all I have for now! Hopefully it's informative enough especially since finding sources outside the Aswang Project website is rather difficult.

[web-novel-polls]

Smartest WN Character Submissions

Last Checked: December 30th, 2024 - Please check the original post for updates

Submissions End: TBD

Rules:

One character per response. Submit as many responses as you want, but please don’t submit the same character more than once unless you forgot something important (can also be fixed via asks).

Must be from a web novel or similar media (Ex: manhwa/manhua) with a web novel adaptation/source. 

“Smartest” can be based on anything from studies to martial arts to strategy to emotional intelligence. If you think they’re smart in any way, they’ll qualify & compete

Tournament Tag: #smartest WN character tournament

Major Spoilers for TYK/WOH, SVSSS, MDZS

Submissions

No Propaganda

Chang Geng from Stars of Chaos: Sha Po Lang

Cui Buqu from Peerless: Wushuang

Gu Yun from Stars of Chaos: Sha Po Lang

He Xuan from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

Jing Beiyuan from Lord Seventh / Qi Ye

Jin Guangyao from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation / MDZS

You Huo from Global Examination / QQGK

Fei Du from Mo Du / Silent Reading

Submission: idk what to say without spoiling the whole novel

Carrd Link

Gu Mang from Yu Wu / Remnants of Filth

Submission: He is intelligent and clever enough to rise from a slave to a general and then become a high-profile spy in the enemy's camp. His intelligence is only compromised by his idealism and its resulting naivete. Even so, he's a genius. 

Ji Yushi from Mist [Unlimited]

Submission: He is somehow able to figure out and understand all the super complicated things that go on in the novel. Incredibly intelligent (and not just because of his hyperthymesia).  

Klein Moretti from Lord of Mysteries

Submission:

i'm not done with the novel yet but he's literally so smart!!

the way he can process information and make connections so quickly, the way he's always great at adapting his way of thinking and doesn't hesitate to change his conclusions when new information comes to light,,, (and the way he can use that to make others believe he knows everything when he's literally hearing about stuff for the first time and doesn't know shit? incredible)

i'm just so impressed by him all the time, i love him sm

Lloyd Frontera / Kim Suho from The Greatest Estate Developer / TGED

Submission: Excels in both long-term and immediate planning, if the standard for excelling is 'how to get the absolute most benefit out of the situation'. WILL use methods no regular person could ever think of.

Nangong Jingnu from Clear and Muddy Loss of Love (JWQS)

Submission: Let's hear it for character development, baby! She starts out as a naive pampered princess and ends up as the Female Emperor. She is initially unable to comprehend even the most basic of political concepts but manages to mold herself into becoming a master schemer who is able to ascend to the throne amidst heavy opposition and use that position to greatly better her country. She is not unintelligent in the beginning of the novel, but still proves that it is never too late to improve one's mind through learning.

Wiki Link

Nie Huaisang from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Submission 1: He delicately wove a ten year revenge plot, manipulating people and evidence behind the scenes so deftly that even after having pulled his plan off, only a few people ever even learned of his involvement. 

Submission 2: Bro was several steps ahead years ahead all to get justice for his brother. bro was a lazy student in childhood, faced incredible loss, and decided fuck this im gonna plot my way to vengence. he did this all while not fighting people's assumption he was dumb from his school days, let them think the worst of me, it will only benefit me.

Qiyan Agula from Clear and Muddy Loss of Love / JWQS

Submission: She's an excellent schemer and manipulator, and is even able to easily adapt her carefully calculated plans when faced with major setbacks. Also able to rank first in very difficult scholarly exams among numerous other candidates. Incredibly clever and cunning.

Wiki Link

Shang Qinghua from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System / SVSSS

Submission: 

Hear me out: he created the world he transmigrated to and managed to not get caught for spying on his sect. He worked for MBJ and CQ (at the same time) becoming the most trusted advisor of one and a peak lord in the other. While he didn't remember EVERYTHING from his novel, it was a literal life time before. He's a mental swiss army knife, jack of all trades. He's not the best at anything, SJ and SY are definitely smarter, LBH is for sure super clever, but SQH is able to keep up with them. (And not get murdered! Way to go Airplane!) 

Shen Qingqiu (Shen Yuan) from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission:

He literally learned how to be a peak lord of the scholarly peak within months, even though his loveable unreliable narrator self makes it unclear how much knowledge he got from the original goods (cultivation and muscle memory are in tact to some degree, at least)

Textual evidence: “ As Shen Qingqiu had, since his arrival, been furiously reviewing various manuals, he had also recently seen a description of it.”(ch1) where he recalls a specific technique and uses it in the moment. “Shen Qingqiu had no say in any of it. As such, he had diligently trained for numerous days, single-mindedly seeking to make his abilities second nature…” (ch 1) yeah so this goes into the having to relearn everything category.

He’s also a walking monster/PIDW encyclopedia. I think his most impressive memory feat [spoiler] is navigating the Holy Mausoleum’s traps better than Tianlang-Jun. note that at this point it’s been years since he read the original book, the Mausoleum is very large, and yet he’s familiar with all the main rooms he encounters, and it’s been years since he read PIDW (the source book). He uses this knowledge to escape/outsmart Tianlang-jun.

Any intelligence he has is made up for by his loss of IQ points around the protagonist, though. And his general obliviousness to those around him.

Shen Zhuo from Hui Tian

Submission: He's a genius in biological engineering, genetic engineering, etc., and is also able to see through others' schemes and craft his own.

Shen Zechuan from Qiang Jin Jiu / QJJ

Submission: He is the schemer of all time. Schemes within schemes within schemes. Incredibly clever and an excellent manipulator. He is everything. 

Song Qingshi from Mistakenly Saving the Villain

Submission: The scholar tyrant himself! He knows everything there is to know about medicines and poisons. A very well-read pebble. 

Wei Wuxian from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation / MDZS

Submission: He is a genius and a visionary. He's invented numerous things that make it easier for the cultivation world to do their jobs. He also figured out how to control resentful energy.

Mod Propaganda: He grandmastered that Demonic Cultivation, man

Wen Kexing from Faraway Wanderers / TYK

Submission: 

Saw that someone submitted him without propaganda so here I am with propaganda! Wen Kexing is pretty much responsible for all of the plot stuff happening in Tian Ya Ke. At the same time, he does absolutely Nothing for the duration of the novel for his massive-scale revenge scheme to work out. And that's because he set it up so brilliantly that he didn't need to lift a finger for his enemies to deliver themselves up on a silver platter.  It was genuinely a domino fall: he only created the inciting incident, and then the pieces slowly but surely fell into place. Except the pieces were people, and if any SINGLE one of them decided they didn't want the Lapis Armor - the treasure Wen Kexing baited them with - then Wen Kexing's scheme would just fizzle out on its own. BUT. None of them could give up the pursuit of power. None of them could be satisfied with what they already had. And Wen Kexing perfectly understood those people's psychology and built his scheme based on that.  He really created this poetic justice situation where his enemies walked themselves to their deaths on their own, and only because they wouldn't stop doing the things that he wanted to take revenge for in the first place. Moreover, he set it up in such a way that he didn't need to commit attrocities while in 'the human world', and instead let his enemies expose themselves by 'not conducting themselves like human beings'. Wen Kexing only started killing when his enemies entered his world, the Ghost Valley. So it was not just poetic, it was also theater-level dramatic! Moreover, his scheme worked so perfectly that when Wen Kexing left partway through the final battle, one of his enemies actually finished up everyone else FOR HIM. And while Wen Kexing baited everyone with Lapis Armor, he also ensured that his father's promise to 'not let it fall into wrong hands' is kept - by destroying the key to it prior to kicking off his scheme. So ultimately, even if Wen Kexing died, his revenge would still be completed, AND the last man standing would receive a big fat Nothing for all the murder and plotting they did. And this is just about his revenge plot. He also sussed out a literal spymaster's true identity within like 11 chapters! Not to mention the whole, 'tricked a bunch of crazy murderers into thinking he was even more insane than them', which he did at age 9 (NINE!). Oh, he also staged a perfect coup within three years or less, somewhere between ages 18-21. And ruled over the Ghost Valley for 8 years when no other Valley Master before him lasted longer than 3.  Tl;dr: A LITERAL EVIL MASTERMIND! AND WE LOVE HIM FOR THAT! 

Rejected

Ballister Blackheart from Nimona

Reason: Not from a web novel

[linkemon]

Oikawa Toru (selfship)

Comission made with an OC (Okami Suzuka) for Sus-Chan on Wattpad.

You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested. Other selfships can be found here.

○ When Okami's parents wanted to leave for the United States for work, the girl felt like her world was falling apart. That's why she resisted with all her might so they wouldn't take her with them. To this day, she doesn't know how she begged them, her uncle, her aunt and her cousin  —  Yamaguchi (who welcomed it with great enthusiasm).

○ It could be said that it was from these moving adventures that her acquaintance with Oikawa began. If you can call a situation in which only one party knows the other that. It all came down to the fact that Tadashi knew Kei, he in turn had a brother and Akiteru played volleyball. Not being very interested in volleyball, Suzuka showed up at a few of Toru's middle school matches anyway. Her cousin wanted to cheer on his friend's brother and that's how it worked out. It was then she decided that Oikawa was an interesting player but that was it. She was much more curious about the legendary crowds of female fans that surrounded him at such a young age like herds of wild animals.

○ The relationship between the two blossomed only when it was time to choose a high school. The girl chose Aobajosai because of the level of education, not really caring about sports. Therefore, although she was aware of the legendary institution, where volleyball reigns supreme, she was sincerely surprised when her friend persuaded her to go to a casting to become a club manager. In fact, she was met with a cold reception. The team was skeptical about the new acquisition, stating that she might have come (like many candidates before her) because of Oikawa. It was the coach who ultimately decided to accept her, seeing the potential in her.

○ The first year of school passed on a rather neutral note. The second year resulted in something like friendship. Mixed with a large dose of admiration at the same time. Suzuki towards Toru's hard work in the case of volleyball and him towards how much she did for the club and how she managed to combine these duties with her studies. Considering the level of volleyball in Aobajosai, the manager always had her hands full. Only the third year brought a breakthrough. Especially after she found Oikawa crying because of a big loss in the tournament. She started to comfort him and in the process she cried herself. That's how they ended this hopeless afternoon, laughing about it through tears.

○ Since then, something has changed in their relationship. They have formed an even deeper bond. Shortly after, they went to a fireworks show together. Oikawa planned to kiss Okami there. He had planned everything quite precisely. In the end, however, nothing happened. He doesn't consider himself a coward but something or someone was constantly bothering them. Sometimes they met mutual friends, sometimes one of them got dirty with food on sticks and had to look for the bathroom. As if it was bad luck. It was Suzuka who leaned in for a kiss when he walked her to her door after a long day. The boy promised himself that he would never forget that moment.

○ From then on, they became a couple, although this period covered high school to a very small extent.

○ Toru liked to meet Okami in the morning, before school. Even if he had to make a little detour. Sometimes they would just talk and sometimes they would share headphones. One in each ear, connected by a cable to the latest hits, downloaded from the Internet. If they were able to stop for some milk bread on the way, he was in seventh heaven.

○ Oikawa is disgustingly cute when he calls her. The team gives each other the gag reflex sign whenever he overdoes it. Suzuka can be sure that he'll text her at very odd hours, even when he knows she has classes and can't text him back:

Teddy bear...

I've already sent you 10 memes and you haven't responded to any of them.

photo_of_nyan_cat.jpg

Does this mean you don't love me anymore???

Call me back!

○ Toru has her saved in his contacts with 3 red hearts next to her name. He'll pester her until Suzuka adds the same ones next to his name.

○ Oikawa isn't exactly a jealous person. He knows his worth and trusts Okami. That doesn't mean he didn't enjoy teasing Tsukishima ever since he noticed he had a certain fondness for the girl that went a bit beyond friendship. Unfortunately, Suzuka had to deal with hordes of mean Oikawa fans. That didn't last long, though, because school was ending and she had her boyfriend's support.

○ One of the activities they did together that lasted beyond their high school years was helping out volleyball player's nephew. Even as young Takeru grew older and began attending classes at older age groups, the duo still dropped in on the younger kids to tutor them.