#there's a reason you're not wanted in these spaces

[prokopetz]

With DND 5e being set up to cause DM burnout, can you give examples of tabletop systems that facilitate easy DMing? I love running a tabletop game but don't have the time to deal with 5e or homebrew anymore.

(With reference to this post here.)

This is an area where you're going to get a lot of bad advice, because there's no such thing as a tabletop RPG that's "easy to GM" in the abstract. Some systems make greater or lesser demands of the GM's time and skill, but the reason that Dungeons & Dragons has a massive GM burnout problem is a bit more subtle than that – indeed, D&D's GM burnout problem is considerably worse than that of many games whose procedures of play place much greater demands on the GM!

It boils down to the fact that games are opinionated. Even a very simple set of rules contains a vast number of baked-in assumptions about how the game ought to be played; in the case of tabletop RPGs, those baked-in assumptions include assumptions about what kinds of stories the game ought to be used to tell. The players of any given group, of course, also have assumptions – some explicit, many unexamined – about how the game's story ought to go. It's rare that these two sets of assumptions will perfectly agree.

Fortunately, perfect agreement isn't necessary, because tabletop RPGs aren't computer games, and it's always possible to tweak the outputs of the rules on the fly to better suit the desired narrative experience. In conventional one-GM-many-players games like D&D, this responsibility for monitoring and adjusting the outputs of the rules so that they're compatible with the narrative space the group wishes to explore falls principally on the GM.

Now, here's where the trouble starts: the larger the disconnect between the story the rules want to produce and the narrative space the group wants to explore, the more work the GM in a conventional one-GM-many-players context needs to do in order to close that gap. If the disconnect is large enough, the GM ends up spending practically all of their time babysitting the outputs of the rules, at the expense of literally every other facet of their responsibilities.

(Conversely, if that gap is large and isn't successfully closed, you can end up with a situation where engaging with the rules and engaging with the narrative become mutually exclusive activities. This is where we get daft ideas like "combat" and "roleplaying" being opposites – which is nonsense, of course, but it's persuasive nonsense if you've never experienced a game where the rules agree with you about what kind of story you should be telling.)

And here's where the problem with Dungeons & Dragons in particular arises. The rules of D&D aren't especially more opinionated than those of your average tabletop RPG; however, the game has developed a culture of play that's allergic to actually acknowledging this. There are several legs to this, including:

a text which makes claims about the game's supported modes of play that are far broader than what the rules in fact support;

a body of received wisdom about GMing best practices which consists mostly of advice on how to close the gap between the rules' assumptions and the players' expectations (but refuses to admit that this is what it's doing);

a player culture which has become increasingly hostile to players learning or knowing the rules, and positions any expectation that players should learn the rules as a form of "gatekeeping"; and

a propensity to treat a very high level of GMing skill as an entry-level expectation.

Taken together, all this produces a situation where, when the rules and the group disagree about how the game's story ought to go, the players don't experience it as a problem with the rules: they experience it as a problem with the GM. A lot of GMs even buy into this perception themselves, which is how you end up with GM advice forums overflowing with people telling novice GMs that they're morally bad people for being unprepared to tackle very advanced GMing challenges right from the jump.

(At this point, one may wonder: why on Earth would a game develop this sort of culture of play in the first place? Who benefits? Well, what we're looking at in practice is a culture of play which treats novice and casual GMs as a disposal resource whose purpose is to maximise the number of people playing Dungeons & Dragons. Follow the money!)

So, after all of that, the short answer is that there isn't a specific magic-bullet solution to avoiding D&D's GM burnout problem – or, at least, not one that operates at the level of the rules, because there's no particular thing that D&D as a system is doing "wrong" that produces this outcome; the problem operates almost entirely at the play culture level.

In practice, two things need to happen:

Placing a greater expectation on the players to learn and understand the game's rules; and

Selecting a system where the gap between the story the rules want to produce and the narrative space the group wants to explore is small.

It's that second one that's the real trick. In order to minimise that gap, we need to know what kind of narrative space your group wants to explore, and that might not be something you have a good answer to if you don't have good lines of communication with your players.

(As an aside, there's a good chance that we're going to see dipsticks cropping up in the notes insisting that their favourite system short-circuits this problem by being perfectly universal and having no baked-in narrative assumptions. These people are lying to you, and lending credence to the idea that there's any such thing as a universal RPG is a big part of how we got into this mess in the first place!)

[foone]

Boiling is just easy because it is a universal adapter: if you can use X to make hot, then you can use the hot to boil water and spin turbines. It's spinning that's the real trick, not the steam: we only use steam to turn a generator.

But for reference, here's some types of power generation that need no boiling:

Solar. Photovoltaics convert light directly into electricity (some forms of solar do boil water, but the most common kind doesn't)

Wind. You have the wind turn a dynamo to generate power. Boiling water isn't needed

Hydroelectric: the water turns the turbine without needing to be boiled

Osmotic power: you use a salinity gradient to turn a turbine

There's at least one variant of nuclear power which involves using the magnetic field of a fusion reaction to generate power, but I'm blanking on the exact name

RTGs: these are basically a radioactive core wrapped in a specialized solar panel. They're basically a big heavy battery that'll work for decades without stopping. They get used on deep space probes and remote Russian lighthouses

Internal combustion engine generators: no need to boil water if you're a car engine: just spin the generator instead of wheels! (fun fact: some Electric vehicles have ICE range extension: they're built like an EV, but they have a small gasoline engine included, but it's not connected to the wheels; it just generates power to recharge the batteries)

By the way, there are more efficient ways to move around heat than steam. Like there's been some experimental nuclear reactors that don't use water, they use molten salt. But steam keeps getting used for a lot of reasons, primarily:

We are very good at plumbing. Humans have literal millenia of expertise at figuring out how to make water go where we want it.

It's non-corrosive. It's not going to eat holes in all your pipes in new and unexpected ways. You can buy pipes that'll handle it at your local home depot for like 5$

It's cheap. You don't have to worry about it leaking a little and having to expensively refill it: water is basically free.

If there's a leak, steam rapidly turns back into water, and you just need to send a dude with a mop (the cooling loop of your reactor isn't radioactive unless your reactor has broken), not a bunch of robots and guys in space suits.

Steam is a great example of "good enough" engineering: it's not the best and most efficient, but it works well enough and it's just easier and we have a ton of experience dealing with it.

Like if tomorrow someone figures out how to catalyze neutrino decay, the first power plant using it will just plug the CND box into a steam turbine. It's just the simplest and quickest way to do it, because we already have that half of the power plant sorted. Those designs have been on file since the 1800s, and we just keep improving them for greater efficiency.

But at the end of the day, remember that it's spinning that's the real power generation trick: you turn a dynamo and power comes out.

Steam is just an easy adapter between HOT and SPINNY. If you've got some hot, you can turn it into spinny with steam. Once you've got spinny, you turn a dynamo and power comes out. And none of this cares HOW you get the hot: burning plants/dinosaurs, decaying/fissioning radioactive material, geothermal power, thermal solar, exothermic chemical reactions, it doesn't matter. Steam is a universal workhorse of power generation.

nuclear power is impressive until you get up to why. "we use the most precisely engineered machinery ever created to split atoms to release energy" oh yeah how come? "boil water to turn a fan" get the fuck out

[urstruly-ghst]

the 1 - the second years !

in which you return home with one last message: it would've been you.

author's note: love when we get to go home! but the cost?

cw: swearing

riddle rosehearts

how dare you?— that was riddle's first thought when you came to his dorm, ecstatic with the prospect of coming home. however, he knew that was selfish— his rose was finally getting their wish come true! what more can he ask?

yet, as he reaches out to your arm before you are whisked away, he only had one question: was he the one? the one you wish to have lived a humble life with? the one who would've been by your side for how long time will permit?

you smiled sadly, because, as much as you are ecstatic, you are gutted at the prospect of leaving him. he was one of your favorite— scratch that, he was your favorite part of twisted wonderland. he was your destined soulmate. how cruel was it for you to figure that out when you don't belong in his world.

"riddle, if i could just easily go back on forth... i would, because you are it, riddle. you're my..." you choked up and looked down at your interlocked hands,

"you're the one." riddle choked

ruggie bucchi

why was he here? ruggie asked as you snuck him out for something. he noticed you seem happier yet withdrawn. he reached out and when you spat you're going home? he froze and nearly wanted to leave you.

ruggie didn't need someone else to abandon him, not after all the shit he put through to make things work out. he's pissed, understandably so, but he also can't help but feel defeated. this "talk" could've been his time at work, he reasoned, but here he was— shattered at the prospect.

his first question was, why? he never had someone genuinely care for him that doesn't benefit them besides his family. so when you and him make it past that enormous mountain of doubt, it was a big deal. now here you are, leaving him for what? as he looked at you, he can't help but feel angry and worst of all, sad. because he usually finds ways, but here, he's defenseless once more.

"leave then." ruggie said as he tried to hide his flattened ears and teary eyes. you reach out to him and whispered your dreams of spending your last days with him.

"i would've loved nothing more than to grow old with you, stressing over bills and making ends meet... and maybe you'll find someone else, someone sweeter and..." you caress his face and smile. "and someone who'll be with you till they get to see you succeed."

azul ashengrotto

its unfair. azul would say, you were supposed to be with him until... then again, was there ever a contract? he prides himself that no one gets away from his grasp, yet here he is, losing the most important person he dreamed to have stayed.

azul dreamed of any outcome, just not this. he laughed, foolish enough to think you would've stayed forever. as you both huddle in your private space in the vip room, he can't help but want to make a deal with you, some deal to make you stay. why not delay for a year? a decade? but as he stared at your longing eyes, he knew he had to let you go.

but he can't help but wonder. you saw how azul accepted that the leech twins will leave him the moment the time comes, it took some time... but he surrendered to that fact long ago. azul blames himself for not doing the same with your departure. he should've kept some piece of himself behind, but how foolish is he to give you his whole heart.

"perhaps we can... my dear.. please" azul hiccuped as he hugged you and unable to find it in his mind to make you stay.

"azul..." you coo, "if i had a say in this, i would've... i would've loved to live this life with you. i would've loved to see you grow your empire and well... i would've been there in every waking moment to see you become the man you dream to be." you smile and kiss his head

"and if anything, i can see you becoming that amazing man." as you shakily kissed him, "you're the one i wish i can spend my whole life with"

jade leech

if you thought he'd not fight with you, you're dead wrong. you're welcome to sit there and think he'd grovel, but he's executing every means to delay you. but once he realizes he cannot keep you any longer, he just sits there in shock.

why? why aren't you going to fight against this? wasn't he a dream of yours? was he not worth the fight? he conjured up so many questions and unabashedly used some of his unique spell so you can speak your truth, and it hurt when you answer in full honesty.

can't he just whisk you away? why aren't you... you both sit together in pain and longing. so many times has jade gotten his way this was one of the first... it hurts. he stayed there holding you close, foolishy listening to your heartbeat.

"jade...?" you whispered, "i love you" he nodded with tears in his eyes. he whispered his reply and he glared at the fact you were honest. he wishes you lied, to make him feel angry... but..

"if i could lie to you, i would've. but jade, i meant it. you're the one. i wish i could say you weren't. it would've been easier but... hey, when did i ever choose easy?"

floyd leech

he squeezed you. he didn't want you to leave. it was not fair. floyd wasn't the type to let go and accept things so easily. you were his, the moment he saw you, but why don't you fucking act like it?

you hiccuped as you were taken into his arms, he was convinced you wouldn't be taken away. floyd opened up to you, he told you things not even his twin would know. who else would be his shrimpy? who else would make things count now.

as he hiccuped and held you tightly, you gave him the dreams you wish to have shared with him. and while floyd doubts he'll get your dreams with how he might avoid it, any connection of you, you smile and just believed him.

"i was wrong about you. you proved to me how fun it was to be loved and love crazy. so floyd, prove me wrong again, and prove to me i wasn't the one for you. but, if i can be selfish, i want you to know you can never..." you gasp for air as you regret saying it, "you can never disprove how you're the one for me."

kalim al asim

he was used to losses, kalim can just find new things. but not with you. never with you. irreplaceable was the only word for you, there could only be one you. kalim wasn't prepared to lose you too.

kalim promises he'll be good, he'll go the extra mile, he begs at your feet. you couldn't leave, no. only you could've broken him down to pieces. your sunshine was what he was missing and what he yearns for every waking moment. humor him, stay.

"i could be more... or i could also!" kalim has begged and traded anything he can for the nth time. you shake your head, giving him the biggest smile you can.

"i don't need anything from you." you say as you told him everything he needed to hear, from you, "because you've given me the world, im sorry if i couldn't have given you half of what you gave me. kalim, find someone that your heart desires, screw what your baba thinks. you deserve the world. you're my greatest treasure, so you deserve at the very least the world with love"

jamil viper

jamil reasoned he should've known better. good things end up gone when it came to him. he wondered if this was some cruel prank you did, to make him face reality. but you weren't.

you sat there with a big sad smile and told him why you're leaving. it wasn't because of x or y, it was just you wanted home. jamil should've known that, but he didn't believe it. why didn't he?

jamil curses himself, he prides on knowing what to do next but he's here dumbfounded and once again one upped by you. yet, as you both accept you'll leave, jamil whispers lowly how he wishes he can be free to choose to run with you

"as stupid as it sounds, i want to run off with you" you laugh and smile. jamil looked away and just shrugged, but you looked down and talked lowly

"i wish i can say "be stupid". but hey, don't. you're too good to run away now. jamil, you're amazing. if only i could see what you'll be in the future, i would be cheering on how you were not stupid." you both laugh as you shared one last night together

"and when time passes, just know, jamil, you were the one i know will rise above everyone else."

"and you would be the one responsible as to why i didn't fail" jamil responded

silver

in dreams, silver had visions of you and him sharing a life. you both were delusional to believe the dreams, when the vision was hazy at best. but, two hearts can dream, right?

silver was shattered when you told him that you'll leave. he wondered if he still had the right to dream about you and him. you reached out to him and told him the honest truth, no. he can't dream about you anymore, not when you were never to be seen again

but, unknown to you, the last night you had with him, he dreamt of you two once more. intertwining your last dream together. let silver be selfish, for these dreams are what his heart kept desiring for.

"what did i tell you." you smile as you are welcomed into the dream both of you built together. a small cottage in a far off land, no pain or suffering touches these walls.

"dear, let me be selfish." silver pouts. and you relent, feeling the bitter pain seep in as you realized this dream shall remain only that: a dream.

"how cruel it is, my happy ending won't be with you" silver muses as you held each other, "seven knows i want it to be with you"

"oh trust me, you'll still have your happy ending. much like how i will still get mine. but if wishes and dreams came true? it would've been you, silver"

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 3

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

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◻○△ Hyun-Ju POV △○◻

The lights had barely gone out when Y/N had fallen asleep using one of her arms as a pillow and even though I was lying on my side, the space she used was still tiny, I could cover her with my arms and make her disappear without any problem.

The strands of her hair fell carefully and perfectly arranged around her head, some on her face where her long eyelashes adorned her cheeks, it was so strange to see and even more difficult to understand.

Previously, before I began with my identity recognition, my appearance attracted too many girls, many of them interested in my position and the economic benefits that this could bring to their lives, but I never felt attracted to them, they were all the same and empty.

But then why did I feel like this now? She could be my little sister, the fragile and sweet girl that I could take care of but my heart didn't feel that way, my stomach turned when she took my hand with fear, taking care that the bond didn't break so she wouldn't get lost from my side, my heart beat a thousand times faster when her eyes narrowed every time she smiled, my head spun every time she told me those words of encouragement making me see that I never made a mistake and that being who I am is no problem, she was the reason now for wanting to get out of this game and it didn't matter if I won the money or not, she was the best thing I had ever won.

Aren't you sleepy?…- she whispered making me jump slightly but I remained silent looking at her - don't pretend you're asleep… I can feel your gaze I'm sorry, I'm not sleepy yet..- I smiled at nothing feeling embarrassed for being discovered You should rest, tomorrow we will need strength to continue playing - her eyes barely opened illuminated with the warm light of the piggy bank - what are you thinking so much about? Thinking? What do you mean? - I looked at her curiously trying to pretend that everything was fine If you can't sleep, it's because your head is busy, what's wrong? - Damn, how did she know me so well? Just 3 days were enough for her to read me like the palm of her hand I was thinking… that… that this would be the last game we could play and then we would vote to withdraw from the competition - I smiled barely arranging a lock of her hair that covered her eyes I see, I was thinking the same thing, I don't want to be here anymore, when I get out I'll look for a job, no matter how bad the pay is, I just want to get out and go home - she sighed tiredly

If you don't mind telling me, now I would like to know why you decided to come to these games, what's your story?

Well… -she sighed deeply biting the inside of her lip a little and with another sigh she looked at me again- a year ago I met a guy online, he fell in love with me and he promised me that we would have a long and happy relationship, we went out for a couple of months just through messages and calls and one day he proposed to come to Korea to meet him and if everything went well I would stay with him to live and we would start a family, so… I quit my job and bought a ticket to come here… I met him and everything was going well but a couple of months later he… took all my money and disappeared, he barely paid the last month's rent and luckily they didn't throw me out but… -her gaze lowered sadly feeling ashamed- it was a stupid thing, I should never have trusted someone I didn't know

Men are disgusting… well.. you.. you understand - she laughed a little wiping her wet eyes - then you need the money for?..

To go back home, buy a plane ticket and go back to my country, I'm not welcome here and people have let me know in many possible ways, I just want to go with my family and start over what I left behind

Oh… - my heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces, a part of me thought that by leaving this game she and I could get to know each other a little more, but she just wanted to run away from here, like I wanted and never hear from anyone else again - then… you'll leave

Yes I think so, but don't worry, once we get out we'll continue being friends and when I have a job I'll pay for all the necessary trips to visit you in Thailand - her eyes narrowed with the smile that formed on her lips, it was so comforting but at the same time so painful to hear that.

I didn't understand why it hurt, I had never felt that feeling of pain and abandonment in that sense, the sense of being in love with her.

Is something wrong? - Her small hand slowly touched my cheek making me focus my attention back on her just shaking my head smiling a little

Everything is fine, it's just that… I will miss my best friend as long as she doesn't come to visit me… - I lied and lied again when I told her I was sleepy and we had to sleep, I spent the night awake, watching her sleep once sleep overcame her again

The next morning, at the sound of the loudspeaker, everyone got up, as if so many hours had passed without even feeling the passage of time.

She barely woke up and jumped out of bed as if she had regained all the energy she had lost in the previous days, put on her shoes and almost ran down to greet Jun-Hee and ask her if she had slept well and if her baby had moved during the night. Y/N had barely found out that 222 was pregnant she kept asking her questions, excitedly showing that she couldn't wait for her turn.

Her authentic happiness made me feel much worse, it made me feel selfish, I wanted her for myself but I couldn't give her anything she wanted, I wouldn't give her the happy life, nor the family she dreamed of, it was a martyrdom and I only thought that I had made the worst decision to be the way I am now.

That is your punishment - the shaman laughed leaning on the bedposts - for following the wrong path that the gods wrote for you, now you will suffer, you love her but you will not have her

I don't know what you are talking about ma'am - I looked at her closing my sweater and arranging my hair with my fingers

Oh no? We are not stupid, we all know what you think when you look at her, how much you want to kiss her and show her that you love her but you don't, because you know that she doesn't like people like you, she only talks to you out of pity and she will never like you - the woman laughed, knowing that she had broken the last thing that was left in a piece inside me, she knew my secret and could use it against me to make me weak at any moment

Shut your mouth you damn bitch, you only know how to say shit, why don't you pray to the gods to give you a new brain uh? Get out of here - Geum-Ja confronted her pushing her away with her hands making the shaman go away laughing while I sat on the steps with my insides destroyed - girl, don't listen to her, that woman attacks where she knows she will truly destroy, don't give her that pleasure

She's right… - I looked at her sadly while she sat next to me brushing my hair with her fingers

Is she right? About we all know you have feelings for that girl? Of course she's right, but she'll never be right in stating what she feels or doesn't feel for you and we won't know until she tells you, maybe she sees you as an older sister or maybe as her best friend… -she smiled at me taking my hand- or maybe, deep inside, where no one knows her secrets, she feels for you the same as you do for her and it doesn't matter if you think you're not enough for her, when you're the right person for someone, all dreams come true

Do you believe in that? - I looked at her again feeling my lungs fill with air once again with her loving motherly smile

Of course, it doesn't matter what you were before or what you are now or if you are both girls, if love is sincere then love can do everything and I know you will fight to save yourself but especially her and I promise you that once we leave you two will go to my house and we will eat the best kimchi you have ever tasted, do you understand? - She laughed patting my back making me smile

''Players, it's time for a new game, please line up and leave in order following the masked soldiers''

Hyun-Ju, let's go - Y/N called me making me look at her quickly while she smiled

Go with her, I'll go with my son - Geum-Ja patted me again standing up as we both went down

Don't leave my side okay? - I looked at her as she nodded smiling and stood in front of me in the line of players

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

The instructions had been clear and one thing was clear to me, I should not separate myself from Y/N at any time, she would be my priority in this game and no matter how many players there were, she would be the one who would always be by my side.

The platform spun to that traumatizing childhood song, everyone silently looking at each other

''10'' - The speaker spoke making us freeze

There are 4 of us, we need 6 more - Yong-Sik shouted desperately pulling his hair

Y/N! Here, there are 5 of us - Dae-Ho shouted pulling Y/N's arm making her look at him

There are 4 of us - I pulled her other arm bringing her back to me looking at him annoyed - Run to a room I'll look for one more

No Hyun-Ju I won't leave, let's go together - Y/N looked at me scared shaking her head

Don't worry, run! - I took her hand giving it to Dae-Ho making him pull her while I screamed looking for person 10 taking whoever the first person I saw was pulling her into the room

''10..9..8..7.''.- the speaker spoke making me nervous when I was able to enter the room and close the door almost fainting without oxygen in my lungs and the countdown reached zero we all looked at each other, the shots could be heard leaving us stunned as we caught our breath

Everyone is alive thanks to me! - the shaman shouted looking at us one by one - ah… I see why I'm here, to save your little friend's life - she laughed pointing at me

Don't start you damn crazy - Geum-Ja looked at her annoyed

As soon as the lock was removed and the door opened, everything was a bloodbath, we all walked in fear looking around confused when I felt a warm hand take mine.

You said we wouldn't separate… don't do that again - Y/N looked at me with her wet eyes

I'm sorry..- I smiled barely squeezing her hand walking slowly together so as not to slip with the blood on the floor

Again the song began to play and the platform turned again, this time with fewer players on it

''4'' - the speaker rang as soon as the song stopped making us look at each other

Run! Run now - I squeezed her hand pulling her as Geum-Ja and Yong-Sik followed us into the room and I closed the door leaning my back against it so no one could open it

This is so tiring… it's torture - Yong-Sik sat on the floor with his head in his hands desperate

Are you okay? - I looked at Y/N who was breathing heavily looking at the floor

Yes.. - she barely answered catching her breath

Again the lock opened letting us out, there was more blood and fewer people, the floor was sticky making our steps difficult until we reached the platform, once again the game began, the lights came on and the song played loudly

''3'' - the speaker announced making us look at each other again

What do we do? - Y/N looked at me scared

Come with me, we're doing in pairs and we'll look for someone - I grabbed her hand tightly, running screaming looking for someone, being pushed by Yong-Sik into the room

What are you doing here? Where's your mother? - I looked at him scared as he caught his breath

What?…what are you talking about? - he looked at me adjusting his misplaced glasses

The teams are 3 Yong-Sik, where did you leave your mother? - Y/N looked at him screaming upset

What? I understood 4, damn it - Yong-Sik tried to leave stumbling and throwing his glasses on the floor

This time Y/N let go of my hand and left quickly, grabbing Geum-Ja by the clothes skillfully by the back pulling her into the room with such force making her almost fall when she hit the wall and then she takes the door and closing it, now she was outside

No…Y/N NO, COME IN! - she looked at me through the gap in the door, her bright eyes looked at mine for the last time and then she ran - no, please no - the sound of the lock on the door rang and no matter how hard I pulled on it, it was impossible to open it

'' 10..9..8..7 ''

NO, NOT LIKE THIS, NOT HER - I looked at Geum-Ja pulling on my hair, my knees became weak making me fall on the floor as my tears fell

''6…5…4…3''

PLEASE DON'T KILL HER, DON'T SEPARATE HER FROM ME!..

''2…1…''

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Can you guess what would happen in the next episode? Can you guess who have a crush with Y/N? Let me read you! :3

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

Tag List!

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper @etta-huracan @cupiid1 @alianacelinecolux @juliexz @duchcess

[svgarseason]

𖹭 cw: explicit, smut, fluff

══════════════𖹭 MINORS DNI 𖹭═════════════

PT 1 ⋆ PT 2 ⋆ PT 3 ⋆ PT 4 ⋆ PT 5 [SOON]

English professor Nanami values his free time. He was never one to keep late hours, until he shared his office with you. Your enthusiasm is contagious. He doesn't mind the overtime so much, these days. Not with you sat on the couch in front of his desk, feet tucked under your stockinged thighs, brow furrowed in concentration as you marked up some some mediocre student's poor excuse of an assignment.

You would preface any question with a soft, sweet, "Professor Nanami ?" As if you weren't sure you had yet garnered the right to say his name. So shy, at first, but you got more and more comfortable as the semester went on. Often, now, you would plop a paper down in front him, crowding into his space as you poke fun at a student's sacchrine overuse of adverbs or rant about passive voice.

Professor Nanami is thrilled that you are opening up, but the trill of your laughter in his ear and the brush of your arm against his makes it difficult to remain objective.

"Her analysis really thins here, don't you agree? Am I being too harsh?" You've been sitting right next to him at his desk all afternoon. As you talk, you are scooting your metal folding chair even closer. He wonders if you realize the way your thigh crushes into his knee as you lean in so close he can smell the light floral scent of your perfume. A lock of your hair falls onto his forearm, soft. He thinks about what it might feel like brushing against his bare chest, the tops of his thighs.

Professor Nanami couldn't honestly answer your question because no matter how long he stares at the page, his brain refuses to absorb the words. So, he just agrees with you, returns your soft smile.

For some reason, that is the turning point for him. It's the moment he stops pretending, at least to himself, that he wouldn't give his left nut to bend you over his desk and fuck you absolutely full of his cum. You're just so good. He knows you would take his cock so well.

Although he attempts to focus on grading the paper in front of him, your proximity steals his attention. Suddenly, he can't stop thinking about the way you looked when you arrived that morning, rosy and breathless from the cold. Images of the sliver of flesh exposed when you pulled your hoodie up over your head are currently occupying every available braincell. The glimmer of your belly-button ring and the strap of some tiny undergarmet underlining the angle of your hip bone eclipse any remaining fragments of concern with narrative structure or parenthetical citations.

Professor Nanami is thinking that it's only a matter of time before you notice the rather prominent outline of his aching cock beneath his khaki slacks. Probably not much time, with the way your leg insists on rubbing up against his.

Why are you squirming like that anyway? Jesus Christ.

Professor Nanami stifles a groan when he feels the sticky warmth of his precum soaking into his boxers. Not wanting to call attention to his predicament, he resists the urge to assess the severity of the situation by looking down at his crotch. So, he looks at you, instead. Bad idea. You are running the end of your pen over your bottom lip as you pour over the paper in front of you. The glistening tip of your tongue protrudes slightly as you concentrate. He can't help but imagine the weeping head of his dick nudging you there, insisting.

Professor Nanami is looking around for something to hold over his stubbornly rigid cock so he can escape to the bathroom, when you suddenly stand and say you're going to get a coffee.

Professor Nanami tugs his slacks halfway down his thighs as soon as you close the door. His cock springs free, a pearly smear of precum leaves a dark splotch on his blue button down as it slaps against his abdomen. He hikes the shirt up in an effort to prevent any further evidence collecting on his pristine clothes. His arousal leaks into the divots of his abs, instead.

Professor Nanami hardly needs to spit on his cock as slick as it is with pre, but he does anyway. "Oh, fuck," he groans as he grips his thick base, slowly stroking himself from root to swollen, leaking tip.

Professor Nanami can't believe how fucking hard he is just from looking at you combined with your innocent, accidental touch.

He grabs your hoodie off of the folding chair where you left it. Buries his face in it and breaths in your addictive scent as he strokes himself. He groans out a strangled string of curses as his hips buck, fucking his fist with long, slow strokes. It only takes a couple of pumps and his abs are seizing up, his thighs shaking. Thick ropes of milky white erupt out of his tip as he moans your name into your hoodie which is still pressed to his face.

After that, it becomes almost like a game. Seeing how quickly or how many times he can jerk himself off before you return from lunch or a bathroom break. It's totally fucked, sure... but his intentions are pure. It's the only way he can preserve the efficacy of this mentorship. Otherwise, his brain would remain too clouded with lust to be of any benefit to you.

Professor Nanami knows he can't deny his desperate attraction to you anymore. He knows just how wrong it is. It is a betrayal of the trust you've placed in him. It is more than simple lust, however.

Professor Nanami cares for you. So much it's like a physical ache, a near painful tug in his chest every time he sees you, hears your voice, thinks about you. That's why you can never find out.

Never.

[transhumanisticpanspermia]

Okay yes but who or what is saying that.

Example above, The Good Place - relational forgiveness plays very little role in the story across all 4 seasons. Where present it isn't really related to the overarching "reform of moral evaluation" that the series culminates in.

The one everyone likes to get mad about, Steven Universe - goes to great lengths to explicitly disabuse the viewer of any notion that forgiveness is a prerequisite to growth. In case you didn't catch it the first time around, there's an entire epilogue miniseries that drives home the point that Steven still dislikes the reformed antagonists and doesn't really 'forgive' them, even though he works with them on improving. It's a professional relationship.

You could make the strongest argument that this notion appears in the one from our childhood everyone talks about, ATLA re: Zuko, but even there he has to get very far into the personal journey to become a better person before anyone he wronged even considers working with him and trusting him, let alone forgiving him. Forgiveness happens but it's not a prerequisite, it's a something that some of the people he hurt choose to provide him after he works on himself.

This post was about media and IRL, and similarly, I do not see many people going around saying "the first step of becoming a better person is apologizing." At least, not in spaces that have reasonable levels of contact with the world outside the computer. It happens in some insular hyper-online groups but that's because those are the groups where everyone is trying super hard to give each other adult onset moral OCD. Venture out into the spaces IRL where people work on self improvement and you'll find frequent admonishments not to malinger looking for forgiveness. In the 12 step program, apologizing and making amends doesn't even come in until step 9, you aren't supposed to expect forgiveness, and you aren't even supposed to attempt apologizing/amends-making to people it would ultimately hurt.

I wouldn't assign any credence to this "pushback" beyond projection. People always want excuses not to take difficult but good advice, and "I have a preconceived notion that you're asking the impossible [i.e. finding forgiveness from those I've wronged]" is a great projection you can use to tune out that advice.

the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible

because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person 

from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating

it’s fucked up. 

[mortalityplays]

I love the practice of requisitioning, remixing and reworking books, comics, movies etc. through any means you like, but I hate hate hate the way so much vocabulary that used to be rooted in individual creativity has been taken over by this kind of fucked up deference to mainstream publishing and ip.

easy example: everyone calls the characters they work up for their projects 'OCs' now. that genie is out of the bottle, I'm not even going to try and cram it back in. it's universal terminology. but I do want to reflect - why is the default position to assume that when someone says 'my characters' they mean something derivative, unless they specify 'my Original characters'?

similarly, all character relationships are 'ships'. but what's wrong with that? you say, it's just short for 'relationship'. and you would be right, by merit of completely ignoring the fandom ancestry and common understanding of that term in order to win an argument. because you know as well as I do that 'ships' aren't 'relationships', they're hypothetical romances that the speaker is rooting for. so why do I keep seeing people talk about shipping their OCs? why is a hypothetical relationship entertained and enjoyed by the creator of the work described using fan terminology?

I have for real no joke seen people talk about their 'headcanons' for their own characters, in their own stories. that's not a headcanon babe, that's canon!!! that's YOUR WORK. moreover, why are we even talking about the canonicity of your personal original writing? this isn't the star wars extended universe, why are international franchise IPs setting the baseline for the relationship you have with your writing and the terminology you use to conceptualise it?

tbc this is not a 'fandom brainrot' post. because I don't think it's fanwork that's the root of the problem. I think it's the insidious creep of capitalism and the ever more draconian weaponisation of copyright law that has rewritten our capacity for talking about creative work so that it revolves at all times around ownership and precedent. there is a deep learned anxiety about describing fictional works as fictional properties, that echoes in our vocabulary as we constantly make clear what is owned and what is not, what has been established on the record and what exists in the realm of speculation.

the reason 'fandom brainrot' is such a compeling stand-in for this issue is that it's really just one step downstream from all that voracious rent-seeking behaviour by publishers. if the only things you ever read or watch are in the milieu of those franchise copyright lawyers, that is the understanding of fiction-as-property you develop. if you're not exposed to a broader spectrum of art and artists, living and dead, who talk about their work as work - as expression, as experimentation, as a personal process and as a shared space with their audience - you will quickly be alienated from your own creative practice by design.

the point i want to make is this: going off the beaten track, exploring outside the franchises and bestsellers and box office babies, is not just a matter of good taste. imo it is a necessary act of solidarity with artists who still live, work and speak as individuals. it's a healthier environment for you as an artist. you deserve a relationship with your own work, not a ship.

[fitzjamesbulletwound]

if you ever wanted to hear my every thought on fitzier you're in luck because here it is! this is extremely long so it's going under the cut and if you read it all, i love you

fitzier- shame, performance, and the freeing ordeal of being known 

oh man okay here we go everyone, if this sucks or is too stupid or too anything feel free to kill me

essentially what i want to try to convey here is that the reason crozier and fitzjames go from enemies to friends to lovers is because they both see each other and see themselves in each other in a way that frightens and compels them, hence the early enmity with a tinge of familiarity and desperation to connect thrown in. with the inevitable evolution of their relationship i really think it becomes about learning to be vulnerable with one another, to give each other space to be who they need to be, both to each other and their subordinates, and finally coming to a point where fitzjames, the most performative insecure character in the story (to me), bares his entire soul to crozier, whose own character development allows him to give james the gift of acceptance and compassion in that moment. i’m not going to go episode by episode like i did with my joplittle post but this is more or less in chronological order with maybe a few exceptions idk i get possessed when i write this stuff

the first scene we’ve got to look at is of course the dinner scene. james is absolutely showboating like no other in this scene but in his body language you can see he isn’t confident at all- fidgeting, gesturing, exaggerating, the voice he tends to put on in early episodes prevalent. but when crozier interrupts him you can see for a split second that james was actually excited to get attention from him until he realizes what he’s saying. in the early episodes james craves crozier’s attention and approval so badly because he knows that crozier doesn’t bullshit and he sees things for what they are and isn’t afraid to voice that either and despite the fact that this sometimes makes james uncomfortable as it is not in line with victorian ideals of emotional expression and masculinity, i think james, given the kind of man he is at the start of the story, craves the recognition of a man who he knows would see everything in him. early early early foreshadowing and story weaving for the cairn scene where he realizes “he can tell this man anything. it is possible”

what i also find fascinating about early james and francis is that they still refer to one another in a very familiar way despite the fact that they openly dislike each other- it’s always first name basis even when they’re arguing. also interesting to note that crozier in the beginning will often call him “fitzjames” in front of others when he’s discussing him when he’s not in the room, but later on he makes sure to always use his proper title when he’s talking about him in front of the men- showing james respect even when he dislikes him. i think he doesn’t understand at the time that james’s familiarity with him is an attempt at respect as well (the whole ‘don’t ever call me francis again’ scene). it might be a stretch but i do get the sense that from the very beginning they both tried at being friendly, even just for the sake of maintaining order in command.

when francis says “here technology still bends the knee to luck james” in ep 1 he says it with almost a mentor-like cadence. like yeah they’re both being a little bitchy here but god knows franklin wasn’t giving fitzjames any real or pertinent advice about surviving and navigating the fucking arctic so i find it interesting that crozier almost gently reminds him that yeah they’re making decent progress but that it would be foolish to let their guard down

one of my favorite early fitzier scenes is after dinner when crozier, franklin, and fitzjames are all on deck and fitzjames like sidles up to crozier and looks him up and down and just goes “goodnight francis” with that smirk on his face- he was trying so hard to flirt with him while also being an insufferable bitch with “try to shake the brown study”. but also james lingers so long waiting for francis to say something to him and then shakes his head and walks away to go bitch to franklin about him- i think he is truly hurt in this instance along with being angry and annoyed. and i love that complication because on one hand, i do think that fitzjames thinks that crozier owes him friendship or at the very least recognition because of who james believes himself to be, or at least who he’s trying to be- like he DOES probably see crozier as being beneath him as an irishman but i do think he genuinely wants his friendship and approval as well, for self serving reasons but not entirely. it’s about fitzjames and his desire to be seen by everyone around him in a certain light but also about his desire to be seen specifically by crozier because of who crozier is and how he acts in contrast to everyone else around them

next on the agenda is “dramatic opening shot”... fitzjames girl you are the most dramatic man in the fucking room. the projection is crazy. what this scene reveals most importantly i think is that another thing about francis that james is secretly very envious of is his ability to openly disagree with franklin. there are so many moments later on where you can see that james doesn’t fully believe in what franklin is saying or commanding (the way he looks at him when they realize they are trapped in the pack, the ways he looks at him when he tells fitzjames to escort silna off of erebus right after her father has died) and i think that he envies francis’s ability to challenge franklin and not care what the consequences are. anyway the staredown during this scene is crazy, the tension??

moving on… beginning of ep 1 crozier says “not if fitzjames is with us” in reference to jop saying dinner will be over before he knows it, and at the beginning of ep 2 fitzjames says “do you think francis will honor us with his presence today”- for two people who allegedly hate each other they sure do think about each other and find reasons to bring each other up in conversation a lot! 

ahh the scene with silna’s father- fitzjames is so interesting to me in this scene and really illustrates one of my favorite things about him in the earlier episodes which is that when he goes silent his face journeys are amazing and really convey his true feelings that he won’t say out loud for various reasons. he watches crozier so much in this scene and looks to him for understanding and guidance which is also interesting because i do think that in this scene he’s watching silna, a woman who he probably sees as subhuman and alien, reacting with such grief and tenderness to her father’s death and probably thinking of his relationship with his own father. i know a lot of people speculate that he was just feeling empathy for her there and i do think that’s part of it but i think that to show that in his mind would be to out himself as being “not fully english”. i think i make this point later on in the story too but fitzjames really does that classic white supremacist thing of distancing yourself from “otherness” in order to align yourself with imperialist beliefs and status- he does it with silna and he does it with crozier. sorry this is also turning into my fitzjames character study lol.

the scene where crozier walks out after his big blow up with franklin… i get that james really didn’t have any place to try to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping but i find it so interesting that he decides to turn to face francis and look him directly in the eye. from what we can see of his expression i personally think there was at least a small amount of sympathy there. another attempt to extend friendship and familiarity while actively participating in crozier’s humiliation… god i hate him lol. and the face that james is making when francis first walks out before he turns around is contemplative, not like smug or triumphant or anything like we might expect given how much he seems to dislike crozier at this point. and francis looking back at him… there’s no anger there, just sadness and humiliation and it sucks. i would truly do anything to be able to see james’s face there, in the script it says that crozier can tell how much james heard from the look on his face which like??? could mean so much.

okay the face journey when francis walks into the erebus wardroom after sir john dies… his eyes stay on fitzjames who’s obviously extremely distraught and i wonder if crozier has ever seen fitzjames show genuine emotion up until this point? crozier then looks to blanky, who also looks to fitzjames almost as if to say “look at him, attend to him” and the sorrow and vulnerability on francis’s face when he looks again to james who is of course also showing a vulnerability we haven’t seen from him before. i love the note in the script that fitzjames isn’t used to being this candid or vulnerable in front of a man he doesn’t respect but he does it anyway. and i don’t think he knows how much sympathy crozier does have for him despite how callous he may come across when he says to send out the rescue parties. they both just fail so spectacularly at communication and expression early on, it’s crazy to see

when francis begins reading from the eulogy and stumbles over his words fitzjames gives him a very sharp look… i think he clocks his alcoholism starting to really affect him right away but may also be looking to see if the stumble is due to emotion or the alcohol. ugh and the look he gives him at the end too… it’s so piercing and there’s an anger to it as well. almost a “please prove me wrong but i don’t believe at this point that you will”. because for better or worse now they are linked, intertwined, married and they have to find a way to make it work.

ohhhh the fitzier dinner scene my beloved… “as i climbed the ridge” is such a parallel to james’s chinese sniper story scene!! AND this time it’s fitzjames who derisively interrupts crozier. The parallels, the callbacks… the look he gives fitzjames is crazy when fitzjames says “you should curb that for now” but what i find the most interesting about this scene is that the script makes a point to say that fitzjames was being sincere when he said that to crozier- there is care and concern there underneath the frustration and anger. and then it’s also wild that in that moment, fitzjames clearly reminds crozier of sophia. the way the narrative almost shifts to replace crozier’s love interest (sophia) with his burgeoning relationship with fitzjames is soooooo. i just love this scene because they are both trying so hard to be vulnerable and open with one another but they are both failing so spectacularly just like in the scene after sir john dies. they don’t have the respect and rapport between them yet to back up what they desperately want from each other- a connection. a camaraderie. leadership and capability. fitzjames tries to be sincere in his concern for francis but it is overshadowed by his frustration and anger towards what he views to be a sour outlook from crozier, and crozier attempts to be vulnerable with james by sharing about sophia only to be met with the knowledge that franklin has humiliated him yet again by discussing that topic with other people aboard the ship. and i think fitzjames does truly pity francis in that moment but it also frustrates him that that is the reason he’s here, for love, not for a yearning for adventure or glory- which i would venture to say is why fitzjames is there. fitzjames went on the expedition to prove his worth and francis went for love and they both ended up finding exactly those things from one another i’m dead.

oh and also why the fuck does fitzjames arch his slutty back against the wall when francis walks out of the room like that one scene in hannibal y’all know what i’m talking about. okay and i forgot about the way fitzjames jabs his finger at francis all up in his personal space which is just so unlike him. it is also worth noting that francis doesn’t get angry at this- he actually stills for a second and then continues to tell james what he was going to tell him. again there’s that strange familiarity they have despite the fact that they hate each other at this point. and that’s to say nothing of how they’re sitting in the first place which is so close to each other idk it just seems a little crazy to me?

i also find it so so interesting how james chooses to be honest with francis once he accidentally reveals that franklin discussed the whole sophia thing with him- he could’ve deflected and said like “oh yeah he mentioned it in passing’ or something like that but he chose to tell francis the truth of the conversation! francis really brings out an honest and candid side to james that we don’t see him put on for anyone else and i think it’s because deep down he knows that no matter how shitty, francis is always going to respect being told the truth vs. all of the obfuscating language that is so typical of the time. i think this is also why in the next episode francis insists that everyone leaves after he punches fitzjames and fitzjames is very resigned to it as well- they both know that it’s going to be ugly but they both want to hash out the truth of the situation for better or worse- like yeah they are at each other’s throats and they want the catharsis of screaming at each other because they’re so mad at each other here but i also think they crave honesty and candidness in their interactions- james because he feels like a fake and francis because it’s his nature- but both because it’s what they want from each other. and back to the dinner scene- just another look of genuine hurt from fitzjames when crozier says “keep your pity” plus the whole reason crozier even says that- i don’t think he expects pity from anyone at this point and doesn’t know how to respond to it.

in the scene where fitzjames says they should question silna about the creature crozier makes a point to say he agrees with him- he does this a couple of different times throughout the show and i think it’s a very small but important detail about how even when they aren’t on the best terms he makes sure to show james respect in front of the officers. and like yeah they end up yelling at each other here but i think that’s more james’s grief showing (again he shows emotion in front of/because of francis) and francis’s stress showing as well- that “we’re all exhausted” is very aimed at james but also an attempt to explain his own state of mind. they’re trying!!!!

the lashing scene- i don’t think we’ve ever seen fitzjames actually afraid of crozier but he definitely is here. he’s clenching his hands so hard throughout the whole scene and he keeps glancing at crozier as he allows the lashing to go on and even nervously gulps at one point. i think this along with crozier’s worsening addiction is a huge catalyst for where we find them and their dynamic in ep 5.

and speaking of which- at the beginning of the episode you can really see how their communication has just completely broken down. edward is basically bridging the gap between them and the resentment is growing. i know that the alcoholism is part of it, we can only assume that fitzjames started to keep his distance once he could tell it was getting bad, but i also think a lot of this is fall out from the lashing and how it affected the way fitzjames felt about crozier as stated earlier. and another aspect of the widening gap between fitzjames and crozier is how erebus is the very picture of order while terror is literally and figuratively falling apart 

the fact that fitzjames told collins to watch out for crozier running out of alcohol on terror is further evidence that fitzjames was around a bit to witness crozier’s alcoholism getting really bad and isolated himself after that. he’s angry but he knows it was coming

ugh man the fight scene- the fact that james came himself, alone, to terror to talk to francis as a friend (straight from his own mouth in the script of their argument) about the alcohol issue. even though james is furious and stressed and shouldering the whole expedition, he still attempts to care for francis, it just ends up blowing up in his face and that’s when he lashes out. the way he says “francis” at first before crozier freaks out on him is in such a sincere and gentle tone and just the fucking genuine hurt in his face and his tone of voice when francis tells him to never call him by his first name again. fitzjames cared when francis was at his fucking lowest but still held him responsible and that’s love baby.

the body language is crazy when they’re yelling at each other or i guess when fitzjames is reading francis lol- and the way crozier can’t take his eyes off fitzjames when he’s telling everyone to get out. he’s so ready for this fucking throw down because both of them have been holding this in for so long. crozier is amped up but fitzjames is resigned to finally getting it all out in the open. he wants it to happen and he knows it needs to. even after getting punched in the mouth by him (i don’t think it’s any accident that fitzjames literally bears a scar from that punch and that it comes back open when he’s dying of scurvy) fitzjames still calmly tells everyone yes get out and says what he needs to say. i love the transcript of their argument because it’s so brutal but it really illustrates a kind of fucked up intimacy that we aren’t 100% privy to between them. crozier knows exactly what to say to james to hurt him- telling him he doesn’t have friends, he has admirers and that james has always been mad that he isn’t one, that james is a coward despite the fact that james is facing this down no matter what it takes in order to literally save crozier’s life; and james knows that all he can do is soldier through and lay the truth of what is happening on francis in a way no one else has dared to except for silna minutes before. james really goes out of his comfort zone- being honest and sincere and vulnerable for the sake of the expedition but also for francis. and i’m reading this back and wondering if i’m being too generous to james here but tbh he had every right to be this angry at francis at this point in the story! 

ha fitzjames walks into the “i need to dry out meeting” looking all submissive and contrite… but for real his face is so open and entreating in this scene. he’s still annoyed but he wants so badly for things to go right. and you can see in francis’s expression that he is so ashamed to have to ask him 

mmm and part of fitzjames coming to love and respect crozier is seeing jopson’s devotion to him in this scene… he’s never seen crozier be admired the way franklin was and i think this is a whole new way for him to see him. and just in general here i think that james “reshuffles everything he thought about the man” and he admires crozier for the way he put his humility and vulnerability in front of him finally and admitted to his wrongs, something i also don’t think franklin would ever do and didn’t ever do, to his and the entire crew’s demise. fitzjames followed franklin and looked up to him in the pursuit of his own vanity and the narrative he tells himself to cover the shame, but he learns to respect and love francis because he watches his evolution as a captain and as a man without any of the obfuscating that he’s used to from authority figures. he watches francis claw his way out of his own shame, the shame that drives him forward and i wonder what kind of ideas that gave fitzjames and how it influenced his own decision to share everything about his past with francis later

what i love about the opening scene of ep 6 is that we see how fitzjames’s leadership has been influenced by franklin and francis but specifically how he is acting more like francis- he does do a little bit of the whole “how dare you bring up anything unpleasant” thing when he yells at jirv for mentioning the number of men and when he does the whole “oh it’s just winter, we’ll feel better with the first sunrise, encourage the men with that” thing but it’s interesting because although we’re hearing echoes of franklin here, fitzjames is still trying to be more honest and open to feedback than franklin was. he doesn’t exactly take jirv’s advice on rationing but he does ration a bit. he is doing the whole toxic positivity thing with his “use that to encourage the men” line but he is also recognizing how hard everything has been for everyone and using an actual tangible event to lift spirits rather than referring to meaningless bullshit about god and country. and the simple fact that he seeks blanky’s advice and knowledge is more than sir john would ever have done in a scenario like this. he understands from blanky’s story about ross that he himself hasn’t been doing enough to combat the horror of their situation for the men, he understands that he must do more. even the way he asks ‘what do you mean’ when blanky says ross had no sympathy for the ill. to not care for the ill is an alien concept to him. tt’s so interesting because fitzjames occupies a space not dissimilar to francis’s- he has access and power in the hierarchy of the discovery service but, within his own mind, he is still an outsider. crozier on the other hand is a visible and tangible outsider due to his birth and his nationality. everyone can see it and i think that’s also part of why fitzjames is so antagonistic towards francis in the beginning- the projection goes crazy and in the true spirit of colonialism and white supremacy, james believes that if he can make himself as far apart from someone like francis as possible and align himself with men like franklin and barrow despite sharing way more similarities with francis than he does with them, he can succeed in upholding himself as the vision of victorian masculinity and social worthiness that he so desperately tries to emulate- this is what i was thinking about during the scene with silna’s father where he’s reluctant to fully show his (partial) sympathy to her

the line from the script that kills me is when it says a clock has begun for fitzjames once he discovers the blood in his hair… god it kills me, he knew he was dying for months. for literal months and who knows if he even told anyone but… i do think he had to have told francis at some point. it makes me so sick, it’s literally why the cairn walk scene happens- he knew he was dying, he knew it and one of the last things he wanted before he died was for someone to see him, truly see him flaws and mistakes and vanity and all before he died. and he wanted that person to be francis

gotta include the scene where james tells edward that francis was right about walking out- this is a huge turning point from ep 1

it’s so funny that when crozier and fitzjames see each other at carnival you can tell james is like “oh shit i’m in trouble” but crozier is just slightly amused seeing him like that and even though he finds the carnival strange and sees how reckless it was, he doesn’t chide james or the men about it even though that’s cleary what james is expecting. crozier empathizes with their longing for home and their need to do something happy and uses that momentum to tell the men about walking out and doing his best to reassure them about their chances. the way fitzjames looks up at him and nods along with him- i don’t think we’ve seen fitzjames look at him like that yet up until this point. he is seeing francis for who he can be as a competent captain and we are seeing crozier really step into that role. i also think that francis was relieved that fitzjames saw the urgency in walking out and that he wasn’t going to have to convince him the way he would’ve had to convince franklin. their leadership is finally syncing up here, built on humility (francis admitting he had an addiction and choosing to do something about it, fitzjames admitting how wrong he was about francis and his use of caution and logic) and respect (i do think crozier respected fitzjames for trying to build morale to the best of his ability and i think fitzjames respected francis finally behaving like the captain he needed him to be) 

during the fire there’s a small moment where james is frozen- no doubt from ptsd which he deserves- and francis sends him ahead to look for an exit, telling him to go. he fucking loves him!!!!

poor fitzjames.. like yes the ghosts of his colonial past and all that of course which i will never not fully support him being subjected to but damn. and i don’t think he shrugs francis off because it’s francis or because he’s angry with them, he is punishing himself and francis sees that and lets him do what will help ease his own guilt and pain. tt is a moment of understanding between them i believe- fitzjames showing vulnerability in front of a man he now respects while adding another failure to his own personal checklist he keeps against himself (i can only imagine he does anyway). francis’s attempt to show him care and understanding while not undercutting his usefulness is also such an inspired choice for what he knows of fitzjames. you can really see the care starting to sprout between them here. i can only imagine what the rest of the winter was like but i feel like by episode 7, their dynamic has just completely changed, their entire vibe is different. and their love couldn’t have happened until they left the ships so it came at the worst and best time. 

and by ep 7 their dynamic has just so completely shifted. even the fact that they are supervising the packing for the walk together and this may be real delusional hours but sending edward ahead to make the first camp instead of one of them going is a little interesting to me. i believe he’s technically the next in line for leadership after fitzjames but like did francis and james want to spend time together? with crozier finally dried out and knowing james’s time is almost up? them finally in a comfortable and friendly place? i love their conversation during the packing scene because fitzjames is voicing a concern to francis who calmly explains his reasoning and when fitzjames continues to press his own doubts they remain civil, familiar, acknowledge one another’s thought processes etc. a scene like this could NEVER have happened in episode 1 or 2. i looooong to know what they were like together during the winter after carnival 

you all know i am INSANE about the fitzier hand holding scene, no one can match my freak on this. tt makes my stomach flutter every time i see it. it is my pride and prejudice hand clenching scene. first i want to acknowledge the quote from the script- “at one point, the only thing keeping fitzjames from sliding back into oblivion is crozier’s hand, but half the importance about the act is that fitzjames reached for it.” this KILLS me more than anything else from the script. and honestly at this point in the story i am becoming convinced that james told crozier about the scurvy, they knew the whole fucking time, they knew. they are literally marching to their deaths, against all odds still going, still trying and they are falling in love. the way james gazes up at francis in awe when he sees the offered hand and doesn’t stop looking at francis when he is up on the ridge. crozier doesn’t even turn to look at james, but he does make sure to stop and wait for him and extend the hand that he knows that james needs. Based on honestly even just this alone i am convinced that crozier knew about the scurvy already. there’s no fucking way he didn’t. and then the way james grabs francis’s jacket and holds on while they stare at each other, crozier smiling- it’s so interesting to me because it very much tells of finding an excuse to touch crozier again, as if he was so in awe of the touch that crozier initiated a few minutes before that he needed it again. he was trying to find a way to touch him again in that “this has to be acceptable by victorian standards of emotional and loving expression” way. and crozier accepts it! he smiles, he meets his gaze. there’s triumph there. and don’t think i didn’t fucking notice that the hand that francis keeps is the hand that held fitzjames’s hand and that also held his face when he was dying.

in the scene with morfin, as soon as crozier notices that james is there he makes sure to maneuver over to james so he can place himself between james and the gun despite the fact that he is unarmed and james has his pistol with him. i don’t necessarily doubt that francis would do this earlier in the story but i can say that he does this here as a selfless act of love and protection 

and then the jop promotion scene yay the way james looks at francis with admiration and curiosity when he hands him the promotion letter to sign and the way james smiles at him when he reads it but not just because of that- but because of the words francis uses and the way francis is looking at him, saying someone “has earned our respect (looks to james), trust” and fitzjames smiles and nods- it’s not just about agreeing with him about jopson. this is how fitzjames feels about crozier now and the fact that crozier even in this small subtle way acknowledges that he  DID need to prove himself to james after his behavior during the winter. their dynamic is just so much different now! at the end when everyone is shaking jopson’s hand, fitzjames gives crozier like… the most insane loving soft look… he looks so so happy. i don’t think we’ve ever seen him look like that before.

and now we are at the cairn walk. i again have to say how during this rewatch i become convinced of the knowledge that crozier has to know that fitzjames is dying. there’s just no way he doesn’t. the conversation they have about it does not convey that james is telling him this for the first time. tt more so implies that they both know but don’t speak of it often and james is updating francis with the vital information, the stages he’s at. what made fitzier happen was them leaving the boats, james dying, crozier getting sober, them both laying it all out on the table in different moments of vulnerability- crozier with his addiction, james with his heritage. the way those scenes parallel each other is actually crazy. james is fucking dying, they are all marching to their deaths and the knowledge that they are doing so is slowly sinking in, and all james wanted before he died was for crozier to see him, all of him. even the parts he was afraid to tell anyone, even himself. and francis isn’t even granting him a mercy, he isn’t sparing his feelings. he truly and genuinely accepts james for who he is, how he came to be a part of the expedition. they have both known from the start that beginnings and heritage don’t matter, it’s the actions that people take that makes them who they are. in different ways they both knew that and i think it’s part of what aligned them eventually. and from the script- james realizes he can say anything to this man. it is possible. crozier gives him the space to do it. and just the way they’re laughing and joking and being light with each other- another thing we never would’ve seen in the earlier episodes. okay focusing on some details now- when crozier says “that’s not how i see you” james literally stumbles as if he can’t believe crozier would say that to him. in the beginning of the scene francis gives james space and privacy when he sees him getting emotional about graham and franklin’s deaths and struggling to remember the date of sir john’s death. they communicate with a single glance there, james asking for a moment and crozier giving it to him. the grief on francis’s face when james tells him his latest symptoms. when crozier initially tries to comfort and encourage james… and james can’t accept it because he hasn’t told him everything yet. he doesn’t know if he can. i don’t want to get personal but that feeling that if you only tell part of your hidden sorrow to someone and they comfort and accept you and show you kindness, that feeling you then get that no no no you don’t know the whole of it and if you did you wouldn’t be showing me this kindness, you wouldn’t love me, you wouldn’t respect me. you wouldn’t see me. i genuinely can’t imagine the relief that fitzjames felt when he told francis it all, he told him everything and all francis gave back was love. also we can finally start to really see the bruise that francis gave fitzjames in ep 5. i love when fitzjames literally and metaphorically closes the gap between them. and francis waits for him until he is by his side again. “are we brothers francis” the tears, the attempt to laugh/smile them away until he sees that crozier is with him in this moment and taking it as seriously as it deserves to be. again the joining of the hands, the one that crozier keeps. they look at each other’s mouths, into each other’s eyes, the way francis dips his head to look at fitzjames when fitzjames ducks his emotionally. it’s insanity

when they get back to camp and listen to hodgson’s story and then go to see jirv’s body, they exchange a lot of glances, specifically around the times that hodgson mentions hickey- they are of one mind on him and on how the situation actually played out. james also watches francis a lot in the scene where they go to see jirv’s body. he looks to him for leadership now and doesn’t become irritated by his anger or his candor. this really persists for the rest of the episode - in the scene where crozier is yelling at edward about supplementing the marines all james has to say is “francis” and then basically talks him down from yelling at edward more, another scene i don’t think could have ever happened between them earlier in the story but james knows how to quell francis now. and this is such an interesting parallel to ep 5 when everyone was taking their shit out on edward; this time fitzjames protects him. but anyway- james and francis are just so in sync in every scene in this episode- they back each other up, communicate through glances, emphasize each other’s words and authority. yay<3 

all right you’re all going to have to bear with me on ep 9 because it makes me crazy.

we gotta start with the fucking grief and pain in both of their expressions when they’re taking care of pocock and how this scene itself foreshadows the assisted suicide later

the look of absolute love and faith from fitzjames when crozier is telling them they will keep marching south and the “more than god loves them” scene- this is francis at his most captainly- and james is echoing his hollow vanity stricken words about franklin but really really meaning them about crozier- he says them to no one but himself, there is no performance here and crozier’s words aren’t a false display of empathy and care like franklin’s were for david young and fitzjames sees this. 

fitzjame and crozier are hauling in front side by side- it makes a point to mention that in the script too.

when fitzjames falls… ugh. he hauled until he couldn’t anymore, direct call back to when blanky said ross sat atop the sledges- oh and when francis and fitzjames were caring for pocock together vs ross having no sympathy for illness. when james falls he reaches for crozier without even looking at him at first and you can hear crozier saying “it’s all right, it’s all right” when james is saying he can’t stand the heat. dundy and bridgens are lifting fitzjames up too but when he stumbles, when he reveals his wound, when he stumbles again, he is only looking at crozier the whole time. and the look on crozier’s face is one i don’t think we’ve seen from him yet. i noticed too that he’s holding onto fitzjames with his left arm and rubbing his back with the other before he takes the rope off of him. 

i want to say about the following scene where james is laid up in the boat that i made a joke once to my friend about when crozier reaches into the boat and how it looks like they’re holding hands- but they actually are, it’s in the script. there’s just something about crozier’s face when he talks to fitzjames in later episodes, there’s such a softening of the edges to him, his expression is less guarded and more attentive and earnest. and the call back to their first scene together with the chinese sniper story…. the fucking fondness in both of their eyes as they laugh together, which was probably james’s last time laughing. when crozier says “there’s time” but that’s the tragedy of this show- there’s never enough time. everything happens too late.

james screaming in pain and crozier running to him and barely letting bridgens finish his sentence before he tells them to camp here also in the script during the officer’s meeting right after, they can hear fitzjames screaming in his tent :( i’m honestly kinda glad they left that out.

and here we are at THE fitzier scene. i could talk for hours about this scene. francis is holding james’s hand, rubbing his shoulder. james looks so young and frail and scared here and he uses some of his last words to tell francis he wanted him to live because he knew he wouldn’t be around to tell him that anymore soon. francis shaking his head when he says it as if to say “not without you”. in the script, when bridgens leaves it says ‘he looks at crozier. he looks at fitzjames. he understands”... and later during james’s funeral when crozier says that he had a service with james, just the two of them, peglar and bridgens exchange a very interesting, knowing look. to choose those two to react that way? idk man. fitzier real. but back to the scene- god okay crozier taps james’s chest twice in question and then just barely audible fitzjames says “please”. ugh the sad smile crozier gives fitzjames before he gives him the drug… then he places his hand, the one that crozier doesn’t lose, so gently and lovingly on james’s face, and even in his current state james looks almost taken aback at the gesture. when crozier tips the drug into his mouth his expression softens. i will never ever in my life forget the way james looks at crozier in that moment, the look of gratitude, love, farewell, of pain, longing, childlike fear. (nobody is doing it like tobias). crozier ever so lightly brushing james’s lips with both of his thumbs before he begins to massage it down and carefully wiping the excess away. they never stop looking at each other. dave k said that the service that crozier mentions happened before fitzjames dies and after crozier gives him the drug.

the last thing i want to say about the james death scene is that i was never that invested in the concept of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but fitzjames asking crozier to eat his body and live really really stuck in my brain- just their entire insane journey that i’ve been sitting here thinking about for months- acquaintances to enemies to allies to friends to lovers for it all to culminate in this final scene of fitzjames begging crozier to eat from his body and begging him to give him the final kiss of death all as crozier never once looks away or lets go of him. fitzjames loved him so much he was willing for crozier to desecrate his corpse if it meant francis would live, even without him next to him but crozier loved him so much that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t add that act to his already impossibly devoted actions.

and the action of hiding james’s body because crozier doesn’t want tuunbaq to destroy it but then it turns out that someone at the very funeral ends up leading the mutineers to tear fitzjames’s body apart themselves. just like jirv not getting to keep the final gift of the seal meat even in death, crozier couldn’t do james this one last mercy even though he tried desperately to. 

and this last part is a bit of a stretch but okay-along with the shirt and the gloves of fitzjames’s that crozier is wearing after his death i think he might be wearing his little neck thing too, so sorry y’all i do not know what it’s called and i’m locked in trying to finish this and i’m not googling it lol. but we see fitzjames wear it a lot throughout the show and francis does sometimes but it’s very much a fitzjames piece so i think it might be his too. and with the funeral scene and the blanky scene, we see the mismatched gloves clearly for the first time but i’m pretty sure the first glimpse is earlier in the episode when they’re hauling before fitzjames collapses. dave k still confirmed they had switched gloves but it really seems that this happened before james died, likely when they left terror camp. i still contend that crozier and fitzjames both knew james was dying and this may have been why they did it. 

and on to the last episode and closing thoughts- in the last ep i was really keeping track of the gloves- he loses them at some point and i wanted to see when and it’s between the scene where he talks to hickey and when he’s chained back up in the tent with diggle. i hope he somehow hung on to them.

i will never forget how my stomach dropped out when i saw hickey wearing fitzjames’s boots on my first watch- the fucking sorrow in crozier’s face. he doesn’t understand the meaning just yet  but when goodsir is cleaning his wounds and tells him they ate gibson, you can see crozier put it together that that’s why hickey has fitzjames’s boots. his expression turns from shock and grief to rage.

hickey really clocked crozier with the shame comment and you can see how it triggers crozier. this is a great confirmation because it really pervades the story and fitzjames’s story as well. they are both driven by shame, by a need to prove themselves but go about it in completely different ways. fitzjames is all bravado, flowery empty words and boasting to cover his origins, his feelings of inadequacy. he aligns himself with the empire and with those in power and distances himself from anyone he knows will be deemed lesser than in the hierarchy in which he exists and specifically pits himself against someone like crozier in order to bolster his own social standing. crozier on the other hand is hardened to his station, he has no way to hide his nationality or his origins no matter how capable he is and how long he’s been going to sea. crozier feels the shame of things like sophia’s rejection and not having straights that they sail named after him but hides it with his bluntness and his lack of decorum when pointing out the truth of a situation. james has everything crozier wishes he did, but crozier is something that james wishes he could be- just himself, despite his societal ineptitudes and barriers. i believe that this basis and the way it melds and breaks down and comes to a way of understanding between them is why fitzier is so strong, and so real and so visceral, especially at the end. honestly there is so much more i could say but i think i’m going to leave it there and just saw that i hope crozier thinks of james from time to time in his new life. i find it hard to believe he doesn’t.

[bouquetface]

Navamsa/D9 Observations 6

Moon in 3rd House Navamsa

This can give a non traditional approach in marriage. You aren't willing to sacrifice your own social life. In fact, lack of social life and community could hurt your marriage. You aren't giving up your own interests and hobbies just because you're a mom/dad or wife/husband. You still want to travel and this placement indicates you will travel later in life (signs & aspects can change this).

You can have creative hobbies later in life with this placement. You could learn to draw, paint, write stories, etc.

You can have a distant relationship with the father.

Mercury in 4th House Navamsa

Two people in my family have this placement. They were afraid of dogs and cats growing up. After the age of 33, they both now have pets they love. This placement shows a busy home. One way this can manifest is becoming a pet owner/loved.

This placement will either buy a home with a library/book/office space or build one into the home. This can manifest as you or the spouse work from home - clients coming in and out. Or you simply love to read and study.

This placement indicates you will struggle with confusion regarding career even after marriage/later in life. You could consider switching careers, going back to school, trying multiple roles/jobs, etc. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Your career could be doing fine, but you’re curious about other paths.

Sign, aspects & whether mercury is conjunct malefic or benefic will influence the above.

Sun in 12th H Navamsa

This is one indicator for having issues with your own family after marriage. However, spouse’s family will be supportive through this period - entire chart will influence accuracy.

Sun conjunct Moon in 12th H Navamsa

When Moon is a lesser degree than Sun, This indicates a more internal influence - rather than physical events that happen to you, this shows your emotional self, what you do. You can find trouble sleeping as you age. You have more restless nights - this can be due to so many different reasons (check which houses sun and moon rule + where 12th h ruler is placed). btw do not worry this does NOT mean you never have a good nights sleep - simple you have a few more restless periods.

[uncle-fruity]

I love the new year! It's my favorite holiday, and people who say that nothing changes or resolutions don't work or that everything is bad so there's no point in celebrating miss the point, imo. It's about getting through another year! It's about progressing and surviving and setting intentions for the new year. But too many people think of resolutions and new beginnings as things that have to be Big and Challenging for them to be meaningful, but that's really not how change works.

For the last several years, I've done what I call Resolution Bingo. I think of 24 things that range from Easily Doable to A Challenge and write them out on a bingo sheet. (Free space is always just Stay Alive.) The idea isn't to do all 24, but rather to try to get one or more bingos throughout the year.

I have never actually gotten a bingo (though I've come very close) but it doesn't matter. The point of Resolution Bingo is to put intention out there for the new year. I think of things I want to do or learn or get back into and I put them on my bingo sheet. Because of Resolution Bingo, I've gone to see more live shows than I used to. I've done more art projects & followed through with them. I've visited new places & had new adventures. I've learned new skills in cooking, needlework, and many other areas of interest. I have made both big and small positive steps for my life because of the resolutions I set at the beginning of the year.

So my advice is to think of resolutions as less of a major life change that you want to dive into -- take the stress off. You can make smaller resolutions that help with your bigger goals. I always tell people who decide they also want to do Resolution Bingo that they shouldn't put anything like, "Run daily/weekly," because as soon as you miss a day, it can demotivate you into stopping all together. Or, if you keep it going, you might feel guilty about marking it off on your bingo sheet at the end of the year, even if you still did a lot of work towards the goal. So, usually, I recommend setting realistic goals that get you going. Stuff like "run a 5k" or "run 3 different running trails" or you know... whatever is reasonable for you and has a tangible beginning & end. If you start working towards something fun or rewarding, you will still be doing the running you set out to do. Going for a daily run is good and all, but it's a slog if you don't know what you're working towards or if you don't allow yourself to rest on days that you really need rest.

My resolutions this year include things like getting a piercing, reading 50 academic papers, visiting all the libraries in my city, learning to place all the countries on a world map from memory, learning 3 new recipes, go somewhere new, complete 1 sewing project... Stuff that will take time and energy, but which will improve my life in ways I want to see it improve. If I don't set some goals -- even fun ones like going to a new museum -- I will just forget to do anything exciting or new & get lost in the depressing Grind of Life. And if you're lost in the depressing Grind of Life, remember to get outside and so anything at all that sounds appealing or productive or fun. It really helps to connect with the good things in life; makes you stronger and more stable in the long run.

I'm coming out as a new year's enjoyer. "Oh you will never stick to these goals" "nothing is really different between one day and the next" "why celebrate the bad years" because I want to!!! Because I love endings and beginnings and making lists!! I love the concept of starting the year by partying I love the drama of kissing someone at midnight I love the one time of the year when it is cold I love starting a new calendar and I love cheering for no reason

[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[just-a-ghost00]

Their current feelings for you

Group 1 - Jeanne

45. Spiral of abundance , 23. Inner Jewel, 31. Inner Equinox, Loyal dog, Newborn Butterfly, Smart Walrus, Forest song "My kindness is a gift I bestow upon the world."

This person really feels the most at peace and safe when they are with you. You bring out their inner child and generate a lot of happiness in their life. They really value and treasure your presence but they are also aware that their happiness shouldn't solely depend on you. This person is choosing to trust you despite their fears and share with you their most vulnerable sides, their kindness and generosity, not only out of loyalty but also because they believe that it would be beneficial on the long term. Their feelings for you are pure, they are only filled with good intentions because this person knows what it's like not to receive love and feel like people cannot accept you for who you are. Even though you may trigger this person sometimes through your words or actions, they would rather try to deal with it on their own without you knowing or trying to talk it out in a healthy manner rather than lashing out on you. This person wants to protect you and nurture you, to guide you but they also feel a bit guarded because they are not used to the dynamic of your connection. This person may struggle with receiving compliments or random acts of kindness. They may be used to having to work hard for attention or to receive help from others. They may be used to people unfairly treating them. However, you do quite the opposite. Through your interactions their wounded inner child is allowed to heal and show its true self without fear. Which can both be pretty exciting and scary at the same time. You may sometimes feel like this person isn't truly reciprocating your feelings or not being sincere. The truth is they need a lot of time to open up about their feelings and show people their love. If you are able to provide them the time and space to do so, by encouraging this person and paying attention to what makes them uncomfortable, respecting their boundaries, which I feel you already do to some extent, this person will slowly but surely let you know how much you mean to them. Honestly this energy is very sweet and peaceful, it was such a lovely reading to do. I feel called to mention that one of the reasons why this person loves you so much is because of your "disinterested" actions. Let me explain with a few examples. Maybe in the past, this person only received compliments from people when they wanted something out of them. So these compliments weren't genuine. However, you compliment them because you want to and feel like it. That kind of things. I feel like this really changed this person's views of connections.

Group 2 - Luca

"When I lead from a place of love, people respect me." 34. Creativity storm, 46. Energyfall 36. Fire of transformation, Loyal Llama, Guardian Bear, Tranquil Sloth, Silent Watcher

You intimidate this person a little but more than anything they feel inspired by you and energized in your presence. You give them a lot of strength and courage to deal with their daily life and challenges. You motivate them to be a better person. They may observe you from afar to learn from you but also out of shyness because they find you very attractive and they can't help their reactions when they're around you, if you get my drift. This energy is quite similar to group 1 in the sense that they also seem to be feeling at peace when you're around, as if all their problems melted away. They find a new sense of confidence because of your support, your guidance, your kindness. This may be something they actively voice out. I feel like this person has already mentioned in front of you that they felt driven to do their best because of your trust and faith in them. They consider you a vital part of their support system. But they also are very fond of you and I feel like they view you as more than a friend, though they may not express it. They get protective over you quite easily which is something they may hide behind nonchalence. Like, they may give you a whole meal to ensure you've eaten enough because they know you're feeling unwell and reply with "I bought this by mistake and I thought maybe you'd like it" or something like that. They find excuses to do things for you while trying to do them undercover. But they may not be very subtle about it sometimes. But maybe because this is something you're not used to, you may think that you're imagining things. Well, this is your confirmation that you're not crazy. I feel like for most of you this connection is quite recent. So you may be in the early stages of a relationship or just secretly crushing on one another because you both are shy koalas.

Group 3 - Chloe

"My happiness is a direct reflection of how quickly I can shift my perceptions from fear to love." 17. Spark of gratitude, 12. Emotional storm, 15. Dance of the elements, Wise Owl - Wisdom Perception Discipline , Newborn Butterfly - Renewal Transformation Adaptability, Cute Penguin - Whismy Community Loyalty, Bird

This person chooses to see you under your best light, regardless of your shadows and past "mistakes", regardless of their own fears and shadows. More than anything, they feel incredibly happy and grateful for your presence in their life. You take them off guard and make them feel giddy, like a teen that would love for the first time. They can't help but to love you for who you are and want to be close to you. They feel so warm and fuzzy whenever you're around. Their thoughts of you are pretty positive and innocent. They just admire you and are in awe with your personality and looks. They wish to see through you and know what you think of them. This connection is fairly new to them. They've never felt this way before. They are not used to such happiness and soft feelings. I feel like this person has been through a lot in their life and they're not used to surrendering control or letting themselves be vulnerable in front of others. But with you, they feel like a child again and everything feels like an adventure. They can appreciate life again because of you and that is something that is incredibly precious to them. Ever since they met you, they start to see life from a brighter perspective and become more of a "the glass is half full" type of person. They can truly have fun and relaxed because they feel more confident in your presence. You make them feel safe, heard and seen. They don't have to try as hard when you're around because you accept them for who they are. I really like this spread because it's just so pure and soothing. It's like in their eyes there isn't a single thing about you that is wrong or that should be changed. They love you unconditionally.

[cosmiccrushes]

A Crow Underwater

Rook x Lucanis || 5.5k words

on ao3

summary: Crow Rook and Lucanis' first meeting during the Sea of Blood quest, from Lucanis' perspective.

notes: I have half a mind to keep writing this Rook (my og mage Crow Rook) and Lucanis into a longer form fic (maybe a series?) I do have a whole backstory planned for her that I think could be fun to explore but ahhh idk

also humongous shoutout to @ datvtranscripts on tumblr for their incredible work cataloging datv dialogue, massively helpful for this fanfic writer <3

~~~

Lucanis snaps the neck of the last Venatori cultist, letting their body thump to the stone at his feet. Spite’s wings dissipate at his back. 

Someone speaks behind him, voice lilting in an almost playful manner. “I’m guessing you’re the reason we’re here.” 

He turns to the two individuals who are entirely out of place in this underwater prison cell. Their unexpected arrival provided him with just the distraction he needed to burst from the crystal the Venatori had come to him in and dispatch them. He studies the new arrivals through narrowed eyes. One, a dwarf and the other, a Dalish elf, judging by the tattoos feathering around their eyes. 

“Who are you? Who sent you?” His voice is gruff with disuse. A year locked away with nothing but a demon for a conversation companion would do that. 

It's the elf who speaks again. “My name’s Rook. House de Riva. I’m here to bring you home. She’s Harding,” the elf jerks their head towards the dwarf whose hands tighten on her crossbow. 

A fellow Crow? House de Riva. That makes them one of Viago’s. Has his grandmother sent them to retrieve him? The day's surprises continue for Lucanis. “House de Riva. You're a Crow.” 

“Last time I checked.” The elf peers over their shoulder at an ominous groan from the prison’s walls. It appears the sounds of clashing Venatori and demons that Lucanis heard echoing through the Ossuary have resulted in a bit of structural damage. “We need to escape. Then we can talk.” The Crow, Rook, says, bringing their attention back to him. “I’m here to help. I’m breaking you out of here.” 

“Only one of you’s a Crow?” Lucanis is baffled by this situation.  

“And you’re possessed by a demon.” They sound curious, not judgemental, as their eyes trace the empty space around him where Spite's wings had been moments ago. 

“It's complicated.” Lucanis supposes he should get used to people looking at him like he's an abomination. Only, this Rook…doesn't. Their gaze stays open and curious. Their partner's discomfort goes unhidden. But if Rook is alarmed by the presence of a demon-possessed assassin, they don't show it.

“Caterina promised us a mage-killer if we broke you out of here.” Rook says mildly. 

“I can still work.” 

“Good. Because I’m pretty sure more Venatori are on their way. We have to get moving.” 

“Rook…” The dwarf looks to the Crow, her mouth pulled taught with wariness. “He's possessed.”

“It's fine, Harding.”

“Rook-” Harding tries again.

“I said I can work.” Lucanis bites out. 

Harding glares at him. “And I’ll listen to whatever she says,” she gestures with her crossbow at Rook. “But I don’t trust him.” The last bit she addresses towards the elf. 

“Understood.” Rook nods. “And we can discuss that later. Right now, I’d really prefer not drowning at the bottom of the sea.”  

“I can’t leave yet. The Venatori have a vial of my blood. I cannot leave it in their hands.” He notes the staff at Rook’s back, marking her as a mage. She will understand better than any the gravity of a mage who owns your blood. 

“Okay.” 

“And I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan.” Lucanis locks eyes with Rook. “You know what that means. Crows don’t break contracts.”

“All right. We'll help,” she agrees easily. “But in return, I want help killing some things.” 

“I’ll owe you.” Lucanis vows, noting the vagueness in her request. But a contract is a contract. Whatever things need killing, Lucanis would oblige. And if Caterina had sent her for a deal, Lucanis would never refuse. 

“I’m sure we’ll owe each other before this is all over.” She pulls blades from her own belt, tossing them to Lucanis. “Let’s go. So, first order of business?”

“Blood first, then my target. Calivan. The prison warden.” Rook immediately takes the lead as they exit his prison cell. Lucanis follows and this provides him with a chance to study his mysterious Crow rescuer.

She's a wisp of a woman. Lucanis does not mean this derisively- he himself is of small stature and it serves him well as an assassin. But he has entire inches on her. She must make deadly use of that in their line of work. As they slink through the corridors of the Ossuary, Lucanis observes the fluid lightness of her steps and knows he’s right. A target would never hear her coming. Her long, silvery blonde hair falls over her shoulders in two, tightly woven braids.

“Where do we find them? Calivan?” 

“In the tower. There’s a bridge.” 

“Not anymore,” Rook replies and Lucanis wonders just how bad of a state the Ossuary has fallen into. “We’ll have to find another way across.” 

A flurry of motion ahead of them as Venatori mages descend upon them in the chamber outside of his former cell. Lucanis refuses to even harbor thoughts that they will not escape this watery hell. He will not go back to that cell now that he is free, even if he must die instead.  

“Good. Mages. My specialty.” Lucanis is so eager to have a blade back in his hand, to cause pain to the Venatori that Rook and Harding are barely needed in this fight. Spite lends his wings and Lucanis stretches his muscles for the first time in a year. He gets the distinct impression that Rook is deliberately hanging back– whether to study his abilities or to offer him a bit of vengeance, he is unsure. 

Rummaging through the pockets of the slain Venatori, Rook raises a key, her triumphant smile spreading wide. “All right! One of them has a key. Must be my lucky day.” 

Lucanis raises an eyebrow. “You have an odd idea of luck.” He glances pointedly at their surroundings. 

Rook shrugs. “Well, I’m not dead yet. Neither are you. And actually, given the circumstances, that probably makes your luck better than mine.” She winks at him. Lucanis is suddenly very aware that these are the first true conversations he’s had with anyone in months. He’s not quite sure he’s doing it right. Is it possible to forget how to talk to people? 

They move forward through the Ossuary. Lucanis wonders how his grandmother finally found his location and why it was this particular Crow she sent to retrieve him. Not a Crow from House Dellamorte. Not a Crow he had even met before, as far as he could remember. And despite the brevity of their acquaintance, Rook imparted a feeling that she was not easily forgotten.  

“So, the Crows sent a mage to free their mage-killer?” 

“No. They sent their best.”

“Did they?” Lucanis is genuinely curious how things may have changed within the Crows during his absence. Who has risen in the ranks, who has fallen. Had his cousin, Illario, moved closer to First Talon?

Rook raises one eyebrow at him, the other scrunching with what must be amusement as her lips curl up at the edges. “No. They sent who needed you and who came looking at exactly the right time. Although I am good.” She winks at him yet again. Lucanis searches his memory trying to recall what it means when people wink at you.   

“Why were you looking for me?”

“Two blighted elven gods have broken free of their Fade prison and want to blight the whole bloody world. You're the Demon of Vyrantium. You're the mage-killer. Hopefully god-killer is in there somewhere too.”

“Blighted gods?” Lucanis must have heard her wrong.

“Yeah. I know, it's a lot. Just what the elven people need.” There’s a hard edge pressing against her words. “So about your target?”

“Calivan. The warden of the Ossuary. He oversees everything here.” 

“Where do we find him?” The dwarf– Harding– asks. 

“He’ll be in the most fortified part of the Ossuary, but first, we have to find where they’re keeping my blood. I cannot touch Calivan until it’s dealt with.” 

Their conversation is interrupted when they enter a new chamber and a swarm of Venatori pop into existence around them. Even as they fight, Harding keeps one eye trained on him, her distrust evident. Still, she is deadly with her bow– her arrows do not miss. 

And Rook– Rook is an artist, raising her staff like a brush against canvas. She paints death over the Venatori and effortlessly falls into step beside him, no longer holding back. Perhaps Lucanis has grown poetic during his isolation. Or maybe, he is simply moved by the welcome familiarity of fighting alongside another Crow. It has been too long since he had a taste of home. Regardless, it is apparent that Rook wasn't being overly braggadocious about being good. She wields her magic with all of the finesse and grace expected of a Crow.

They proceed. Striking down Venatori as they go. Rook pauses when they move through a chamber that served as a workshop for Zara’s tormented creations. She examines the evidence strewn across tables, a strained expression on her face. “Wait… Were they torturing demons? How? Why?”

“They didn’t all start out as demons. Zara made sure they ended up that way.” Lucanis states bluntly. The blood stains would explain his point well enough.  

“Zara?” Rook hasn’t looked away from the workbenches. 

“Zara Renata. There might be a higher-ranking Venatori somewhere, but I don’t know of one. This place is all her.”

Rook stares solemnly at the tables a moment longer. The stillest Lucanis has seen her yet, like the suddenly smooth surface of a lake that normally ripples with currents. Abruptly, she turns her attention to the Venatori crystals blocking their path. She smashes them, her mouth set in a harsh line, her eyes gleaming with a stony anger. A dam broken, an undulating eddy of motion as she cuts through the Ossuary. 

“Corpses possessed by demons. Watch out.” Harding warns, nodding to the undead shambling up the path ahead. 

“Zara Renata’s work. This place exists just for her to make new, worse kinds of demons.” 

“I think I’d very much like to meet this Zara. Show her some of my work.” Rook watches the undead as they take a diverging path around. Attention snapping away as she states, “Venatori ahead.” 

“Mine.” Lucanis steps up, determined to take his pay in blood today. Rook makes space for him. More blood mages crawl out of their rat holes behind them. “Mierda. These guys. Let me hit him first, then you can take him down.”   

“With pleasure,” Rook hums beside him. They fall into sync again, Lucanis’ pulse racing with the adrenaline of long overdue kills. 

Rook steps over the corpses of the dead Venatori and Harding quickens her pace to walk alongside Rook. “Rook. You sure about this? Abominations…” Harding's tone conveys her feelings on abominations. 

“We made a deal with the Crows to bring him back. And don't forget that it's gods we're up against.” 

“Right. Well, abominations never end well. Just remember I warned you.” 

Rook doesn't respond. Lucanis grits his teeth at the way they discuss him as if he's not here. One thing he can say he knows about Rook now though, is that she will complete her contracts– regardless of what she finds on the other end of it. 

The ground shakes beneath them and a macing creak echoes through the Ossuary, stopping them in their tracks. 

“I don’t like this!” Harding exclaims. 

Rook has her arms held out at her sides, steadying her feet. “Can’t say I’m a fan either.” 

Lucanis watches a stream of water trickle down a wall. “We may not have much time.” 

They reach a chasm where a bridge must have once been. Rook stares frustratedly at the open air they need to cross. “Damn it, there’s no path through here.”  

I. Can make. A path. From the Fade. The demon speaks in Lucanis’ head. 

“What?” Lucanis forgets that speaking out loud will draw attention. 

Let. Me. Pull from the Fade. 

“What are you-” NOW, Spite yells. “Fine.” 

“What is it?” Rook asks, considering him with a softness in her eyes.

“He says he can get us across.” 

“Who is ‘he’?” Rook leans slightly to the side to peer around Lucanis, eyes flicking back to him in question. 

“The demon. He says there’s something here. Something he can grab hold of in the Fade. It’s close.” 

“By all means.” Rook waves her hand and stands aside, looking distinctly unmoved by the fact that Lucanis has just confirmed speaking to a demon inside his head. 

Lucanis allows Spite just enough rein to reach out. He’s shocked when the demon’s magic manifests an entire chunk of stone as a makeshift bridge for them. 

“Wow.” The awe in Rook’s voice mirrors his own. “The demon pulled all of that from the Fade?”

“I’m as surprised as you.” Lucanis tries not to think too much about all the demon could do if left unchecked.

They enter another workshop area where Venatori mages and demons brawl. 

“They’re fighting? But the Venatori made all these monsters, didn’t they?” Harding asks. 

“Blood mages. They never learn. Zara can summon all the demons she wants, but they don’t have to obey her.” 

“And it doesn't look like they plan to,” Rook quips before plunging into the fray. 

The ghost of a smile flutters across Lucanis' lips before he charges after her. 

Rook rolls her head side to side, stretching out her neck after the last blood mage– the Fabricator, Lucanis recalls their moniker– drops to the ground, lifeless. “What did Zara want all these undead for?”

“Nothing. Those are the failures.” So many failures. Lucanis' stomach turns at the innocent life lost within these damp halls. He may not be innocent, but he lost life here too. 

“If those are the failures, what does success look like?” Rook questions. 

“She took the ‘best’ results out a few days ago. But some of the demons she created are still here.” 

“Calivan. You said he’s the one in charge?” Rook pauses her exit from the room to look back at him. 

Lucanis shakes his head. “No. He’s a lackey. He runs this place for a powerful magister. He was my target a year ago. Now we both want him dead.” Again, Lucanis feels compelled not to hide what he is now. It almost feels like he's challenging her. This Rook says she needs him to fight elven gods, says she's here to bring him home. But what home could a demon-possessed assassin hope to have? The fighting he could do, but he would have her clear about what exactly it is she's bringing back to Treviso.

“‘We’” meaning…?” Rook trails off expectantly. 

“Demons don’t forgive.” 

Rook’s eyes roam over him. “Neither do Crows.” She pivots, resuming her quick, sure pace. 

They draw nearer the chamber with Lucanis’ blood vial. “We're getting close.” 

“How are we supposed to find this thing?” Harding asks him. 

“I know it’s here. We can smell it.” The thing lurking within him has heightened his senses. 

Entering into an expansive room, Lucanis identifies that the vial of his blood is locked behind a Venatori crystal ward. He informs Rook. 

“If I never see another Venatori crystal…” Rook says darkly. She immediately begins to wind through the room, smashing crystals with a swipe of her staff. Lucanis gets the impression that she is not a very patient person. He imagines that it has probably earned her reprimand in House de Riva. No Talon would allow actions borne of recklessness, but especially Viago.    

In the center of the room are more tables strewn with corpses. 

“Look at what's left of these people… they were tortured. What a terrible way to die.” Harding shakes her head. 

“Very few people survive Calivan’s ‘rehabilitation.’” 

“You did.” Rook says simply. 

Lucanis peeks at her, but she continues her prowl around the room, hunting for crystals.

Rook smashes the last crystal warding the room. She sweeps out a hand in a grand gesture to Lucanis, bowing slightly at her waist. There is a mischief about her that again has Lucanis' lips twitching on the hint of a smile, such a strange feeling after a year of only horrors.

Lucanis’ eyes lock onto the blood vial at the far end of the chamber. “There. That’s the one. It has to be.”

Rook’s graceful steps lead her to the container. Lucanis joins her. She looks at him, shrugs, then shatters the vial with her magic. “All right then, that’s done. Now for our contract.” Lucanis doesn’t miss the way she says ‘our’ contract. Since she appeared before him, she has been fully committed to assisting him. She hasn’t questioned his motives or monitored him out of the corner of her eye like Harding does. Is she reckless? Or has he simply earned her trust so easily because he is a fellow Crow? And not just any Crow. Lucanis is well aware of the weighty pull associated with the House of the First Talon, House Dellamorte. 

Lucanis guides them through the Ossuary’s halls to its heart– where he believes the warden to keep office. His fingers itch to put a blade through Calivan’s heart. They reach a lift, filing inside. 

Harding again voices her concerns in a low, warning tone. “Rook…” The two must know each other well for Harding need not say more to express her thoughts to Rook.

“It’s us against gods Harding-”

Lucanis doesn’t particularly want to hear what Rook will say next so he interrupts. “I am right here, you know.” 

“It’s fine. We can talk about something else.” Rook shoots a pointed glance at Harding. “What’s Caterina like?”    

Lucanis is surprised by the question, even more surprised that he doesn’t know how to answer it. “After so long in this pit… I barely remember.” 

“You’ve been down here for a year?” Rook cranes her neck to speak to him behind her. Her braids slide against her leathers. 

“Mmm,” Lucanis grunts in response. What else is there to say?

“Is there anything we need to know about Calivan?” Harding asks. 

“You want to hear about his torture methods or something else? We didn’t chat.” 

“He might be turning those torture methods on us very soon, so,” Rook’s shoulders shrug noncommittally. She doesn’t rise to Lucanis’ spiteful bait tossed at Harding, though Harding glowers at him.  

The lift stutters to a halt and they are emptied into a cavernous room. 

A voice echoes across the space as they step fully inside. 

“Ugh, this was entirely unnecessary. Zara and her little jests. ‘He’s already the Demon of Vyrantium! Won't this be ironic?’” The man scoffs. “Hilarious. And now look at the mess you’ve made of my facility. She always leaves me to clean up.” 

“So this is Calivan.” Rook sounds unimpressed. 

“He is.” Lucanis confirms. “The target I was sent for a year ago. A Crow never abandons a contract.” His fingers tighten around his blade, well, Rook’s blade. He looks forward to reuniting with some of his own.  

Rook calls out. “Calivan! We’ll help you with the clean up. I think we’ll start by taking out the trash.” A vicious smile twists her lips and then she strikes.

Lucanis falls into the rhythm of the fight. A dawning awareness crests over him that if he is to continue working with Rook, he may have to get used to racing into battle after her. He might be more disgruntled about it if she didn’t wield herself so masterfully. 

Lucanis ignores the savage jabs Calivan attempts to distract him with. What words could hurt him more than the horror of having a demon possession forced upon him? 

Rook, on the other hand, grows increasingly annoyed with Calivan’s incessant insults– despite none of them being directed at her. Upon realizing the need to destroy the barrier protecting Calivan and beginning their coordinated efforts to do so, the prison warden screams at Lucanis, “You will return to your chains!” 

Rook snarls as she toils to bring down the barrier. “Ma halam! You will return to dust!” 

Calivan’s barrier falls and his enraged shouts summon a flood of demons to the chamber. Rook meets Calivan’s rage blow for blow. And despite Harding’s obvious misgivings about him, she too fights fiercely. When a Pride demon stands before them, they do not falter. 

Calivan’s desperation grows as he weakens and their group gains ground. “No! I will not be defeated!” 

“Sorry! We took a vote-” Rook snaps between swings of her staff. “-decided you die today! I’m sure you understand. Being an arrogant prick and all!” Spite guffaws against his skull and a grim satisfaction grips Lucanis. He’s never been particularly crafty with his words and finds that he relishes Rook’s lashing tongue. 

With a final blast of Rook’s magic and Lucanis’ blade through his chest, Calivan is no more. 

Lucanis releases a long held breath as he stands over his contract. “The Crows send their regards.” 

Rook breathes deeply beside him, tucking her staff at her back. “So, we got your target.” 

“Yes. The job’s done.” Lucanis has waited so long to say that. 

Beside him, Spite inhales. Smells like blood. Ashes. Not done. Not yet. 

Lucanis grinds his teeth, staring hard at the demonic manifestation. He must not hear Rook attempting to get his attention.  

“Lucanis… Are you all right? Lucanis? What are you looking at?”

When Lucanis finally registers Rook’s question, he turns to her. She is watching him, head tilted inquisitively at an angle. 

Careful. They know. We’re not right.

Lucanis looks back to Spite, then at Rook. “You cannot see him. I wondered.” So, the disturbing likeness of Lucanis that the demon manifested as was only visible to him it seemed. Mierda. Was that a gift or a curse? 

Rook’s head is still tilted at him. Her eyes shift from Lucanis to the vacant air beside him where Spite stands hidden from her sight. But she doesn’t look afraid nor concerned. “We clearly have things to discuss. Somewhere else.”

Harding nods vigorously. 

“Agreed. I think…it’s time I got some air.” Lucanis feels a nervous thrill run through him at the thought. 

Rook offers him a small smile. “Agreed. A Crow underwater… “ A shiver runs through her. “No thank you. I’m ready to get out of this place.” 

Lucanis returns her smile, the muscles in his cheeks twitching. He cannot recall the last time he used them. “Imagine how I feel.” 

***

The boat glides through the canals of Treviso. Lucanis' heart is in his throat as his city unfolds around him. He had been so close this whole time… He looks back to the rest of the boat's occupants and discovers Rook already watching him.

She smiles, gentle and friendly. “Welcome home.” 

The first warmth Lucanis has felt since being locked in the Ossuary floods through him. Home. 

They climb the steps to the Canatori diamond and he knows from the tense set of Rook's shoulders that he's not alone in sensing something is wrong. Rook glances at him, eyes tight with worry. He gives her a sharp nod. 

Teia’s voice reaches his ears first. “Maker…” 

Lucanis steps into a mess of a room. Broken furniture, strewn papers. Viago notices them first.

“Lucanis?” The Fifth Talon’s eyes flick over him and then to Rook at his side. Viago's clenched fists relax. 

“What happened here?” Lucanis has never seen the Diamond so disheveled. 

Illario slams his fist on a table. “A message. From Zara Renata.” His anger softens as he adds, “I can't believe it. You're home.” 

Lucanis can't reconcile Illario's former words. “Zara… Her people got this close?” 

“The woman who runs the prison?” Rook looks up at him for confirmation. 

“The Venatori witch who captured me.” 

“Revenge for the breakout, maybe?” The skepticism in Rook's tone matches Lucanis' own. How could Zara have moved so quickly? 

“Where's Caterina?” Lucanis searches the faces in the room, but finds his grandmother's missing. His stomach roils with apprehension.  

“She's…” Teia bows her head, her voice thick with emotion.

Viago steps up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulder. “The Venatori got her in the confusion.” 

“I get one of you back, only to lose the other.” Illario sighs.

His grandmother… the mighty, unshakeable First Talon… no, it could not be. 

Rook's tender voice at his elbow grounds him. “Lucanis… I'm so sorry.” 

Lucanis is grateful for her simple words, spoken with earnestness. Her presence also reminds him of Caterina's last request of him. “I need to work.” 

“Are you sure?” Concern squeezes Teia’s eyes. “You should take some time.” 

“I don't need time– I need a target,” Lucanis says harshly. 

His cousin addresses him. “You just got here, and already you want to leave again?” 

Lucanis meets Illario's eyes, willing his brethren to understand. “Caterina gave me a contract. I'm not breaking the last deal she ever made. And I owe Rook. Once that's done… I'll come home.” If his home would still have him, when they learned what he has become.

“I'll return him in one piece.” Rook tells Illario. She sounds as though she wholeheartedly believes it, that she will act as a protector to the, now literal, Demon of Vyrantium. This Crow is a peculiar one. 

“Thank you.” Illario inclines his head towards Rook. Then says to Lucanis, “Cousin, when you find Zara, I want– I need– to be there.” 

Viago interjects. “We’re under attack. Antaam on one side and now Venatori on the other? Forget revenge, we need you-” 

Teia stops him with firm words. “No, Viago. Zara came for us here. She took Caterina from my house. You find her and cut her heart out, Lucanis. VI and I will hold down the fort.” 

“I'll give her your regards, Teia.” 

Teia lifts her chin. “For Caterina.” A chorus of “for Caterina” sounds around the room. Teia's eyes drop to Rook. “And you be careful. Or this one-” A nod towards Viago. “-will lose his head over revenge, whether he admits it or not.” 

Viago huffs but doesn't deny Teia's words. “Do not make a mess of this contract,” he throws at Rook. 

Rook rolls her eyes at the Fifth Talon. Lucanis’ eyes widen at the sight and he waits for Viago’s reprimand but it never comes. “Yes, Viago.” Rook’s tone borders on disrespectful, but still Viago does not react. Lucanis stares between the Fifth Talon and Rook in confusion. 

Viago scowls at Rook momentarily, then directs his frown at Lucanis. His mouth opens like he’s going to say something to him. Instead he glares at Rook one more time, his mouth clamping shut in a hard line before shaking his head and walking away. Teia smiles at Rook before following Viago.

Lucanis very much wants to ask Rook what vital piece of information he’s missing that allowed her to walk away from that interaction unscathed, but Rook’s already moving away. “Let’s go. It’s time for you to meet everyone else.”   

*** 

Lucanis isn’t sure what to make of the Lighthouse. The eluvians were a fascinating bit of magic and the Crossroads were downright bizarre. There’s a confounding peace about the Lighthouse, but Lucanis does not trust a place borne of the Fade. Spite is far less wary, seemingly comforted by the closeness of the Fade– if a demon could even be comforted.

Lucanis’ introductions to the rest of Rook’s team had been made and he had, predictably, been met with skeptical looks and guarded expressions. Bellara– the Veil Jumper and ancient elven artifact expert– seems the least distrusting of him. Her and Neve– a Shadow Dragon detective from Minrathous– sit at the large dining table behind him discussing his possession. Lucanis leans against the fireplace mantel, staring into the crackling flames. 

“They’re the same thing. Mostly. Kind of.” Bellara is explaining. 

“Except one will manipulate you. Or kill you. Or both.” Neve replies. 

“But how do you get rid of them?” Lucanis attempts to not sound as frustrated as he feels.  

“Um…” Bellara’s hands flutter against the table. Lucanis suspects he already knows the only answer the Veil Jumper will be knowledgeable of. He’d come to the same conclusion himself while locked in the depths of the Ossuary.  

“What’s everyone talking about?” Rook draws his attention– and the demon’s, he notes with interest– as she enters the dining hall. 

“Spite.” Lucanis answers through clenched teeth. 

“The demon in Lucanis.” Neve clarifies. “When a person gets possessed, the demon usually takes control.” 

“And they turn into a monster. The spirit just…molds them. However they want.” Bellara adds. 

“I’ve heard of abominations being cured by killing the demon in the Fade. That’s not a sure bet, though.” Spite bristles at Neve’s words. 

“Well, there’s one way. But it’s..well…we’d have to, um…” Bellara stammers nervously. 

“You’d have to kill me.” Lucanis finishes. 

“There’s got to be another way. That can’t be the only solution.” Rook’s hands come to rest on her hips and an unyielding glint sparks in her eye. She looks as if she dares the world to disagree with her declaration. “Can’t we reason with Spite, maybe? Persuade it to leave?” Spite perks up at Rook’s question.

Lucanis gapes at the Crow mage who wants to have a chat with a demon. “Talk doesn’t work on Spite.” As the words leave his lips, Lucanis beholds with horror Spite manifesting beside Rook. He has never had to deal with the reality of Spite around other people and fear freezes him in place. 

Spite leers at Rook, a scathing smile on his face. She won’t hurt you. How sweet. The demon’s derision drips through his sentence like honey, sticking unpleasantly to Lucanis’ skin. 

No. Not sweet, dangerous. Lucanis stares into the determination solidified in Rook’s eyes. Very dangerous. If this partnership is to work, he needs Rook to be willing to stop him. Spite moves to Lucanis’ side and he tears his gaze away from Rook in relief. 

I want to talk to them. Spite demands. Lucanis ignores the demon. 

Bellara goes on. “Before we do, well, that. Let’s think this through some more. There has to be a solution.” 

“I have people in Minrathous I can ask, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” 

Rook nods at Neve. “All right. So what’s next?” Rook asks the room at large. 

Spite growls in frustration. Let me talk to them! I want. To. Talk. To Rook! Spite lashes out in Lucanis’ mind and his head cracks to the side. He feels blood wet his nose and he grunts in pain. 

“Lucanis!” Bellara exclaims as she and Neve spring out of their seats. 

Lucanis holds up a hand to them. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

Rook’s fists are curled at her sides. “Don’t pretend this is all right. It wouldn’t be fine if another person did it.” 

She’s angry for him, Lucanis registers. He softens at this. “No, but there’s nothing I can do about it. If it were another person, I could solve this with a knife.” 

“Why did he do that?” She asks. 

Lucanis will absolutely not tell her that the demon wishes to speak with her. His skin crawls at the familiar way Spite said Rook’s name. The demon has never said anyone's name before, not even Lucanis’. “Throwing a tantrum when he doesn’t get his way.”

“Perhaps he needs to learn what happens to Crows who throw tantrums,” she threatens. 

Lucanis smiles. “I would prefer not to relive those lessons.” Rook’s closed fists loosen. “Just… give me a minute. He’ll get bored once everyone leaves.” 

Rook’s eyes jump back and forth between his own. “I don’t like leaving you alone with a demon. I…” 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Lucanis reassures her, though he’s not sure it’s entirely true. 

“Lucanis..” 

“Please.” He needs to get her– and everyone else– away from Spite until the demon calms down. 

Rook nods and gathers the others to leave.

As the door to the dining hall falls shut behind them, Lucanis addresses Spite. “You’re not speaking to any of them so forget about it.” 

Rook. Wanted to. Talk. To me!

There’s her name again. It grates on Lucanis’ nerves. “Yes. To ask you to leave.” Lucanis spits. 

Spite hisses, but falls silent. Lucanis closes his eyes, the fire in the hearth warming his eyelids. It’s true. Rook had thought to reason with a demon on his behalf. Lucanis sighs, peeling his weary eyes open. He heads towards a door at the back of the dining hall, opening it to find a long, narrow pantry. Oddly, a cot is already tucked into the far corner. Lucanis sinks onto it, letting his head rest against the stone wall at his back.

Rook will have questions for him eventually. But for now, he soaks in the fact that she respected his request, that she trusted him enough to leave him alone. He mulls over his own questions of what that could mean for a man who has truly become a demon.  

[lyricwritesprose]

As someone who is currently discovering My Adventures With Superman and frankly rolling around in it like catnip, I feel that having Lois catch on fast was absolutely right for the show.

First of all, this show just moves hella fast. For whatever reason. If you want slowburn, it's all cool, there's other media out there, but that doesn't happen to be what this one is doing.

Second of all, the plotline does excellent work at establishing who Lois is. In fact, the show is doing an excellent job of establishing who just about everyone is. Clark is just Good, sweet and kind in a way usually reserved for Disney princesses, but he is also too cautious and rule abiding and unwilling to rock the boat until Lois is involved. Lois is brilliant, driven, a bit emotionally damaged and about one thousand percent insane, but believing in Clark keeps her from becoming too ruthless. Jimmy has got to have cast iron self control, I mean, this is a guy who has endless curiosity about cryptids and yet managed somehow not to grab a video camera and interrogate his Obviously A Cryptid roommate—simply because Clark is his friend and he wanted to respect his boundaries, I mean, seriously, what an absolute mensch. Guy deserves to be the most famous Best Friend in American media. And even the minor characters, like, Perry . . . is clearly offscreen eating antacids like they were fucking M&Ms, and it is mostly the fault of the aforementioned trio. But back to Lois and Clark.

The thing is, there may be actually more potential for juicy emotional complications out of a Lois who knows than a Lois who doesn't. I mean, first of all, you have to figure out what you even mean to him, and how much he lied to you, and then you have to work out how to connect to an actual alien who is sitting in a psychological place where no human ever has before, like Maslow's hierarchy of needs probably doesn't even apply to him, and second of all he is absolutely Going Through Shit because he has enemies and no idea what the fuck is going on and his space ship speaks a different language. Yeah, love, that's good, that's nice—but it's not going to be enough. You have to have a lot of other things, like good communications skills and raw insane courage, and if you don't have them you're going to have to learn them fast because this television show, as mentioned before, is not even interested in trying a slow burn plot.

To be clear, I have just gotten into this media, but by this point I trust them to come up with emotional torque because, I don't know, despite (despite? Not sure that's quite the right word) the silliness and the occasional Excessive Amounts Of Anime I feel that they just understand the assignment. This show is about Being Good, about hope and friendship and love. And not necessarily in a schmaltzy care bear sort of way, but in a "we understand that this is stupid hard in a world like this and maybe we should do it anyway," way.

i 100% believe every single adaptation of superman should be judged for accuracy based on how well they understand just how completely unhinged lois lane is as a person. because if you think THE lois lane wouldn’t do [fill in the blank], you’re wrong. she absolutely would do that and she will not be apologizing for it. superman being in love with her only succeeded in making her more comfortable and willing to do insanely dangerous things than she already was. because yes, she will 100% launch her body off a skyscraper just to prove a point. and guess what, idiot? she was right, so it was completely worth it and she will be doing it again. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, lois lane is absolutely bat-shit crazy. clark just happens to be really REALLY into her particular brand of crazy. like there is nothing lois won’t do with the right motivation. she is an absolute force of nature and that should scare the shit out of you.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Warnings: Implied past abuse, Masturbation, Sexting, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: ~2k

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Previous

Ever since the Halloween party your relationship with Lloyd has been quite the journey. Even after all these weeks Lloyd still respects your boundaries and only pushes when it comes to your soft no's. And even then, the second you call it off, he stops. Aside from the mustache, he really is the Sir of your dreams. As rewarding as he is demanding. He's strong enough to manhandle you into positions you never thought possible but also gentle enough to provide the aftercare you need.

And goodness you were grateful for your weekend scenes with him. Almost every Friday night Lloyd took you to the Lucky Lady private club that offers a safe space for BDSM practice. It was way classier than any of the other clubs you've been to. It took some work to overcome your memories from the last time you were at a club but Lloyd was patient.

What you didn't know is that Lloyd hired a PI to look into what happened at your last club. Fowler gave him the details and Lloyd made sure the asshole who hurt you was blacklisted at just about every club Lloyd had any influence with. If anyone asked him why he went to the trouble, he'd say it was because he was looking out for his community. Someone like that shouldn't be allowed to hurt others. And he believed that was the only reason.

But now that he was watching Sam Wilson, the CFO, flirt with you during a meeting, he was starting to think there might be more to it.

Lloyd wasn't even supposed to be at this meeting but he knew it was a big one for you. You were presenting a project your department, mainly you, had been working on for Wilson for months. Though Lloyd's entry was greeted with some raised eyebrows, no one had the energy to fight his right to be there. And when you smiled at him, he was ready to fight each and every one of them to stay.

But Wilson could be quite the smooth talker and Lloyd knew people had trouble resisting that smile of his. Every time he complimented you Lloyd wanted to smack the smile off his face. At the same time, you and Lloyd had never promised anything more than sex. You weren't really a couple, doing things that couples did. Lloyd knows, or knew, that was all he wanted. He doesn't actually know about you. So if you were to go off with Wilson, Lloyd would have no say.

That thought hit him like a punch to the gut. This weekend he needed to make sure you sat down and talked about these things. Because he'll be damned if he has to watch another man free to flirt with you.

While he wants to follow your rules about not doing things in public or at work, he still makes a point of rolling his eyes or scoffing, just loud enough, whenever Wilson calls you a nickname. You're Maestro, dammit. His Maestro.

After the meeting, you start packing up your laptop and continuing to answer questions from Sam, as he insists you call him. Most of his questions are good ones, but some of them have you wondering if you didn't explain things well enough or if he's just looking for an excuse to keep talking to you. He's certainly handsome and charming, but you're with Lloyd. Aren't you? Then again, it's all been just sex. Incredibly good sex, but just sex. Lloyd doesn't seem the type to want a relationship outside of the Dom/Sub dynamic. Would it be so bad to start dating?

As you start to head out, Sam walks in front of you. "I was wondering if you might want to go out this Friday? I can get us a table at Andrea's, the newest place in town."

And the most expensive, you think. He's definitely bringing out the big guns right away.

"Thank you, Sam," you smile. "But I've already got plans for Friday that are going to ruin me for Saturday." It's not a lie, your Friday nights with Lloyd are a much needed detox from the stress of the work week.

"You heard the lady, Wilson," Lloyd steps in, his tone harsh.

"I'm still trying to figure out why you're here," Sam shoots back. "This meeting had nothing to do with your department."

"Like I need a reason to do half the shit I do," Lloyd mocks. "Now get back to your cushy office. I think Dennis the Menace is calling for you."

"There's a dated reference," Sam scoffs. "How old are you again?"

"Nowhere near as old as you," Lloyd smiles, showing his teeth.

"Um, if you two will excuse me?" you interject. "I need to get back to my desk?"

Both men break their staring competition to turn to you, all soft smiles. They're almost synchronized as each takes a step back and gestures for you to walk by. As soon as you're out the door you hear their exchange start up again.

Your face is burning from embarrassment. Some of it is from the attention, but most of it is from how turned on you are by Lloyd's intervention. It was quite the turn on to see him step in, to make sure someone respected your "no". To do the talking so you could make your escape. Even though you'd told him you don't want to do anything at work, nor do you want people at work knowing about your escapades, this gentle bending of your rules was actually really comforting.

When you're back at your cubicle, you can't focus on work. You keep thinking of Lloyd and rubbing your thighs together. You're incredibly worked up. You take a deep breath and decide to do something bold.

Taking out your phone you text him, "Sir, please may I make myself cum?"

Lloyd's phone dings with the tone he has reserved for you and he stops mid-shouting match with Wilson to check that you're okay. When he reads your message all the blood flows out of his brain. He doesn't even give Sam the courtesy of an "eat shit" before leaving the meeting room and going to his office.

He brings his phone out again and unzips his pants before he texts back.

Lloyd: You gonna touch yourself in your cubicle, naughty girl?

Maestro: May I do so in the bathroom, Sir? Lloyd: Only if you agree to follow my orders while you're in there. Maestro: Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. Lloyd: That's my good girl.

He strokes himself as he remembers how you react whenever he calls you that. Remembers how your pussy clenches around him at those words.

Maestro: I am ready, Sir. Lloyd: Start by playing with your nipples. And when they're nice and perky, send me a photo. Maestro: Yes, Sir.

He gently strokes himself for a couple of minutes before send him the photo. He groans as he looks at the under-the-shirt photo you sent, licking his lips at the memory of having those tits in his mouth.

Lloyd: Good girl. Now tell me how wet you are. Maestro: I'm nearly dripping, Sir.

He has to bite back a moan as he mentally hears those words said in your breathy, whining voice.

Lloyd: Well let's get you actually dripping. Set the phone where you can read my instructions because I'm going to have you using both of your hands. Maestro: Yes, Sir!

Part of you can't believe you're doing this. It's not something you'd ever considered doing before but you have needs and this seems the safest way to do so without raising too much suspicion. You squirm as you think of Lloyd in his office jerking off while directing you and set up your phone, awaiting his instructions.

Lloyd: One hand massaging your tit, the other slowly moving down your front until you reach your clit.

While Lloyd is sure you're obeying his orders, he's not familiar enough yet with you to know how long it's going to take you to move slowly so he takes a little time to look back at the photo you sent him while continuing to stroke himself. When he thinks you've had enough time, he focuses again and picturing what he wants you to do.

Lloyd: Use one of those dainty little fingers of yours to start circling your clit.

As you obey you find yourself getting more frustrated than relieved. Lloyd's fingers were so much bigger and stronger. You had to bite back a pout that he wasn't the one touching you. Then again, that's likely the point. Given the wording of the order, Lloyd clearly knows whose fingers you'd prefer to have playing with you.

Lloyd: Now run your fingers along your pussy to gather up that slick. But DO NOT insert them into my pussy.

Your body shakes with the possessiveness expressed, even just over text. You whisper, "yes, Sir," on reflex.

Lloyd: Switch to the other tit. Lloyd: Use that slick to flick your clit while you wish it was my tongue on you instead.

He speeds up his strokes, tightening his grip as he pictures you getting more and more desperate for him. He's never been more happy to have an office with a door that locks. He's not usually one to get off on just text and visualizations but he's got your sounds, your facial expressions, your reactions almost memorized and it's making him feel so good.

Lloyd: Speed up those fingers.

You bite back a whimper as you obey. You're so surprised by how responsive your body is, but when you read those texts in Lloyd's Dom voice they just hit straight to your core. Your hips start rolling but you fight the urge to cum. You don't have permission yet. But you don't have permission to slow down. Your face contorts in frustration as your pussy keeps clenching, begging to be filled with Sir's cock.

Lloyd groans as he pictures your face. Always a good Sub, eager to please, wanting to obey and be rewarded for it. He toys with the idea of not letting you get yourself off but he trusts you've been obeying his instructions.

Lloyd: Cum.

You read the text through blurred vision and slap your hand over your mouth to keep your moans of pleasure from being heard throughout the bathroom. It's not as strong as if Lloyd was with you, but it's stronger than if you were home with toys. You shudder through your orgasm and finally let yourself stop.

Lloyd: Feeling better? Maestro: Yes, Sir. Thank you so much, Sir! Lloyd: Send me a photo with your tongue out.

You're quick to acquiesce. You know he's talking about the face you give him when you're eager for him to jerk off onto your face.

Lloyd gets the photo and quickly cums.

Lloyd: Good girl, Maestro. Maestro: Thank you, Sir. Lloyd: Clean yourself up and get back to work. I gotta make sure no one sees the load of cum you got me to shoot out. Maestro: Yes, Sir.

Part of you is disappointed with his dismissal. Maybe he really is only interested in the sex. Not that you have room to complain, you never expressed a want for more than that. But it still hurts the buzz you just feeling.

You get back to your desk and there's an email from Sam, asking if you have plans for next weekend. You feel unsure. You really like Lloyd. He makes you feel safe and he's a very good Dom. But if he only wants---

Your thoughts are interrupted by a text. From Lloyd.

Lloyd: How would you feel about going out for dinner Friday before we hit the club? Maestro: Are you asking me on a date?

In his office, Lloyd groans with frustration. He hates letting himself get even the tiniest bit vulnerable. But you're worth the risk, right? Besides, if you don't want more than just sex, he can play it off. He's an unfeeling asshole, right?

Lloyd: If you want that.

You smile, small tears of relief forming in the corners of your eyes.

Maestro: I really do. Thank you, Lloyd.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[bunnakit]

coming outta left field and talking about something that has nothing to do with me bc i don't have anything better to do with my time right now.

that whole fandom discourse was whack and i'm sorry @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles had to deal with that. there's def been plenty of posts i haven't liked or haven't agreed with in fandom and you shrimply just have to scroll! there's no need to make a response unless you're coming from a genuine place and can have a respectful discussion. if you're coming from an emotional place you just have to say "people like different things" and move on.

i personally am not mutuals with shan because we have a lot of different opinions about things - this is not a dig at shan, she doesn't follow me either prob for the same reason! i think she articulates her posts incredibly well and comes from a very genuine place. i don't know turtles that well bc i haven't been in the space much these days but based on what i've seen she seems much the same.

media analysis is and should be vast and varied, that's what makes it fun, and not everyone is going to share your opinion and people will always interpret things differently based on past experiences, differences in knowledge, etc. they aren't evil for that.

this is what i think is one of the most important things from shan's post -

You don't owe anyone your presence here, and you don't have to express opinions on everything or respond to tags or asks if you don't have anything to say. Sometimes you might just want to take a break from posting, some things in the discourse might just flow right on by you, sometimes you will not have a firm opinion on a debate. You can post as much or as little as you want. You can suddenly decide you don't want to talk about a show anymore. You can not log into your tumblr for days or weeks at a time. Do you, boo!

to add to this, and i know this won't be a very well received statement, if you're finding yourself having these big emotional responses just because someone didn't like your fav it may be time to take a step back and reevaluate your priorities in fandom. as someone that took a break from fandom and dramas in general i highly recommend taking a second and finding your peace again. humans are emotional by design, it's what makes us great, but if you're getting violently wound up about someone else's opinion of a fictional piece of media created for entertainment purposes i think it's time to take a deep breath.

fictional media is art and people can and should always have different opinions about art. yes, even art featuring your favs.

i left the fandom for a long time because Last Twilight deeply hurt my feelings as a disabled person with an incurable disease - but that's on me. i'm sure many people found the message an uplifting one of hope (as i believe it was intended to be.) my personal experiences caused me to have a different take on it - but again that is because of my personal experiences and does not make my opinion of it right or wrong, it simply is.

tldr: i think it's important to remember that there are no correct opinions in fandom; if there were they wouldn't be opinions but irrefutable facts. you need to get used to seeing opinions and reads that differ from your own and embrace the art of filtering unless you feel capable of having a calm and respectful discussion.

i wanted to share my thoughts as someone completely unassociated with shan and turtles from a place of complete neutrality. if you're going to have a discussion have a discussion, if you're just gonna rag on someone because they didn't mindlessly jerk off your fav keep it to your group chat or something, don't be a tar pit.

this being said, get used to seeing things even if you try to filter! it's not perfect, i've filtered out spare me your mercy bc i haven't seen it yet and want to form my own opinions but things have absolutely come across my radar (either in my own tags, clicking links, etc.) it happens, don't be weird about it.