#while also learning the encounter in the first place

[noxturnalmoth]

Literary Service

Life is a cruel mother but a great teacher. In Noxus, where life is but an afterthought, war raises its people with an iron fist. Whether they like it or not. So when one is courageous enough to escape, they learn to take all that life has to offer, even if it has to be by the skin of their teeth. What would happen if the scholarship that provided you with an escape made you encounter a man as great with his words as he is with hiding the festering wounds in his heart? And what if he was your teacher?

Chapter 4: Emotional Ambush

Weeks had passed since your confession to Mr.Marlowe, and although you expected a rejection towards your feelings of friendship you soon realized that the man felt the same. The smile he gave you as you spoke was enough of an answer, but as the semester ended he had also warmed up to the class, enough for them to feel more comfortable around him and in class while also retaining his authority and usual strictness. And you were proud that the man had come out of his shell a bit after you opened yourself up to him, and that he seemed to relax more when there was just the two of you in his office. Quips and chuckles animating your sessions along with the usual passionate ramblings as you both discussed the latest book he had recommended. You noticed that all of them had been more or less about freedom, about learning from the past, about façades, loving yourself and letting go of what hurts you that has come from something in the past. And as time went, the tomes picked were more and more complex, philosophical or niche, and you couldn't help but be thankful. He was in his way caring for you, but also furthering your knowledge and passion, and although it had started as an indulgence for him, you've come to notice that he was learning as much as you were and also letting his own façade slip more and more. His excitement palpable at times, his lips slipping into a smile unknowingly to him, coffees set up for you both as you arrived in his office, more cigarettes were shared between passionate discussions, and your time in his office stretching to way past his schedule.

As finals arrived, you worked the hardest you had, in both his class and the other ones you had. Your newly made friends and you creating study groups and dedicating certain hours in your days to revise lessons, check assignments and redo certain exercises while sharing thoughts, laughter and hot coffees. Your life finally felt like it clicked into place as you looked at the small group, as you thought about your life here at Zaun Tech, and it was all due to Mr.Marlowe. Your teacher, the first person to care about who you truly were beyond the carefully crafted civilized façade, your first friend; and you could never thank him enough for all that he has done for and brought to you. So, in a way, as you study for his part of the finals, you push yourself into understanding everything, remembering your one on one sessions, determined to ace the paper to make him proud.

You had quickly noticed how you preened at his praise, at his attention and under his observant gaze. And you understood that it was because of your own past, forged in the flames of hell by the unfeeling, unyielding Noxian frenzy, vision and ears filled with the corpses and screams of the damned that you had sent there. His presence and words were validating you in a way no one since your youth had, and long past were the years of peace your toddler self lived through. He was giving you the care you were violently ripped from, and you searched for no more than that. Your budding friendship was only a normal evolution from this care and your shared passion over the literary arts. But it was the most treasured thing you possessed, albeit immaterial, you would always keep it near and dear, tucked within the small part of your heart that wasn't marred with scars of the past, charred with hatred and pain unconcievable to most.

The day of the finals, the members of your group of friends bid each other good luck with pats on the back and hugs, skipping you. You had mentionned to them physical contact was not to be initiated with you if it was on your back or if you couldn't see it, so instead they'd hold your hands tight, kissing the back of them, crossing pinkies and forming handshakes. They never asked why, and you couldn't be anymore grateful to have such an understanding little band. As you walk to your seat you turn to Mr.Marlowe, stopping to nod at him.

"Good luck, I know you'll do great."

Is all that he says with a nod back at you, but his eye is much less restrained, the cold yet welcoming and comforting familiar shade of teal softened by the golden sunlight. Deep within them you could read a letter to you, proclaiming that you would do amazingly yes, but also that you had nothing to fear, that he was proud you made it this far, that he was proud of you, and proud of knowing you. That this friendship meant as much to him as it did to you. It almost brought tears to your eyes, looking down to escape the intensity of his watchful gaze as your face warmed up.

"I'll make you proud."

Is what you utter with a small smile, eyes loking into his, trying to show the same amount of emotion as him, gaze telling him that you'd show him just how much you cared by aceing whatever he threw at you today, that you'd use all the knowledge obtained and utilize the burning passion that you both stoked as time passed and friendship grew. And with a last nod you understood, you always do, was what he meant to say. So with strengthened resolve you get to your seat, crutch laid on the ground bag opened to retrieve a single pencil case, and after the class was full and ready, the timer for four hours started, and you started writing. Your eyes reading over each question on each page at least twice before your pen was gliding, tainting the white paper under each carefully written questions with your own cursive. Your words thought of for minutes as you formulated coherent and meaningful responses to each inquiry, using all you'd learned alone, with your group or with Mr.Marlowe, your answers long and detailed yet never veering off the path until you arrived at the last question, a small essay about the book you had preferred in the semester. Although the books you worked on in class were great, you knew somehow that you could use one of the many books you had discussed during office hours, and those being your actual favourites, the choice was easy. Picking Crime and Punishment you quickly make a plan on what to say on a piece of paper on the side, then describe Raskolnikov, his life, his mentality, his relationship to all of those around him; you dive deep in his actions and thoughts, into his philosophy, to explore the themes of nihilism, utilitarianism and rationalism lying beneath the surface of each carefully written page. Even using movies and a theater representation you had seen as help to describe visuals, mannerisms and aesthetics, albeit mentionning that those are simply the producers' visions and not Dostoevsky's, using your own thoughts to conclude the lengthy analysis.

Looking up at the ticking clock, five minutes were left out of the four hours, and no one but you was left in the amphitheater. And while you took around half an hour to complete the basic questions writing your essay had taken over three hours, but it didn't matter to you as you were proud of it. And by the way Mr.Marlowe looked as he skimmed through your paper as you handed it back to him, so was he. But when you went to say your goodbyes, wishing him good holidays, he handed you a paper, small and folded that his teal eye emphasized on, regarding it as important.

"I have something to gift you, sir."

"Is that so? Then you might as well look at the paper."

He answers back, your name slipping softly from his lips as his lips stretched into a soft smile, one that you've learnt was only reserved to you on campus. And it felt amazing, to be given such a rare thing, such a precious thing, a part of him almost no one knew about, so you basked in the warmth of it, in the cool water bathing you in his iris, appreciating the soft crows feet softening his sharp gaze and the gentle flutter of his lashes as they kissed his cheek everytime it closed. You must have looked quite dumbfounded as you opened the paper, revealing a phone number, his phone number, because the soft rumble of his chuckle was heard in the empty room and your eyes lifted to his as a smile broke out on your face. It was soft, but one of the biggest and brightest you have produced since arriving in Zaun, you had already a few phone numbers, those being your three friends', but never did you expect to have Mr.Marlowe; and it meant so much more than any words could describe. Entering it quickly you send a rushed "Hello it's me" message before opening your messenger bag, producing a neatly wrapped, thick rectangle from it and handing it to your dear friend.

"I've learnt a few years ago that it's apparently a tradition to give gifts, my other friends and I gave each other some, but I also wanted to offer you something. I hope you like it, sir."

Your smile grows more shy as your eyes look down, hands wrung together while the sound of ripping paper echoes within the empty room and a pleased hum follows it. Looking up at the man behind the desk again, you find him with a smile equal to the one you harbored just before and your own stretches to match it. You had gotten him Nightwood by Djurna Barnes, a book he had quickly mentionned he wished to read but had never gotten around to, and by the way his hands gently cradled the tome, you knew you had picked the perfect gift for him, something that proved just how you hung onto his every words and drank them in, no matter how trivial they could be.

"You remembered." His voice softly uttered as his thumbs caressed the book cover, and he places the object in his backpack as softly as possible, between his laptop and a binder to keep it safe, but his hand dug deeper in another part of the bag. When he was done, his hand came out holding a rectangular package, not dissimilar to yours yet it looked thicker on the sides, as if there was more than just one object in the delicately wrapped gift, a soft ribbon bow decorating the top. You freeze, smile softening yet again, as do your eyes, your face ever changing like the reflections of the sun on softly rippling waters. You hadn't expected him to get you a gift, yet as he tilts his head invitingly you believe you should've, he cared for you as much as you did for him yet you ever expected nearly as much energy to be spent on you although yours is extensively spent on him.

"Go on, open it."

His voice coaxed, and as always your body obeyed, even after you befriended him he still had that effect on you, yet if felt less commandeering rather more as if he held your hand and bought you along, although his influence was still terrifying. But as you opened the gift you couldn't help the soft tears escaping your eyes, trails of salt water carving your cheeks in what were the first joyful tears of your life, not sobs of stress, pain, fear, rage or anguish, no they were something you only knew of through fiction. And he was the reason for them. Taking the wrapping paper away you take each element of the gift, analyzing them. You had been right in saying it is composed of multiple objects, you have been given a fancy fountain pen, colored in his usual maroon, black and gold, and ink cartridges. But also a copy of Paradise Lost by John Milton, and a leather notebook embossed with details and closed with a string, it looked handmade and opening it you see that the pages are held not by a usual binding but a spiral.

"Like that you can keep it, you won't need to buy new ones all the time, you only need to take away the old pages and add new ones."

His soft voice echoes and after a moment where your hands gently brushed the cover and your lower lip shaked, you breathe out heavily, putting the gifts in your bag carefully before you reach for his hands and hold them tight. And as he looks at you, eye wide as his smile softens and his gaze and face grow even more gentle, you know that he understands. You may not be able to hold him, but the weight of your hands in his and their gentle tightness is akin to a last goodbye as a wife claws at her lover unwilling to let him go as he is called for war, that small gesture of holding his hands you both know is your own way of embracing him. Embracing him tight enough that your back would hurt, but you wouldn't mind, not with him, never with him, not when all he has ever been was good to you. And with a last nod you let go, shaky breath muffled by your hands wiping the crystal trails shimmering on your face, and with one last look and smile you leave.

"Have a good break."

"You too sir."

No thanks are exchanged, but from the air permeating the room both of you knew the importance of the moment you had shared. And you remembered that moment during the whole of your holidays, some days spent alone in your dorm reading the book you were gifted, writing in your new notebook with your fancy new pen and as ink flowed, the stuttering of your heart grew. You chalked it up at those being such thoughtful gifts like those your other friends gave you, you felt warm when you used the keys to your room too, a matching keychain with your group holding them together, when you wore your new cardigan or slipped on the pretty bracelet. Yet the feeling ran deeper, was warmer when you used the gifts Mr.Marlowe left you, they made your vision cloudy with an unshed torrent of tears, your lips always stretching in a smile you never thought you could produce. It was scary, feeling so deeply for someone who could control you with the flick of his wrist, with a single word uttered from his lips, but what was scarier was that you found yourself minding more the fact that he had all this power over you and knew it, but still chose to be nothing but sweet and gentle to you.

Although you loved your friends and your friends loved you, Mr.Marlowe's friendship had a layer of uncertain feelings that swirled in your mind and choked you up when you let yourself think too deeply of him. Maybe it was simply because he was the first to ever care for you this much? That had to be it.

To your surprise though many days during the holidays were spent with your friends, shopping, warming yourselves in homely cafés, playing and watching movies at their places and meeting their families. You had been too shy to text Mr.Marlowe after leaving his class, not wanting to bother his time with his family. Although on Christmas Eve, as you also celebrated aceing your tests with your friends, you decided to steel your resolve and write him a short sweet message.

-Hello Mr.Marlowe, I hope your holidays are going great. Merry Christmas to you and your family! Take care and have fun. I know I will.-

Attached to it was a picture of you and your three friends smiling brightly, your clothes fitting your style yet adapted to the festive atmosphere, a reindeed hairband on top of your head, your thicker body warm and well dressed while surrounded by your friends one lanky and fluffy haired, one tall and strong, one darker skinned with her curly hair undone from its usual bun. And while you pondered a long time if that was breaching some untold boundary, you weren't left wondering for long.

-Hello to you too, my holidays are going pretty well and as I can see that so are yours. I'm very glad. Merry Christmas to you too, have fun and don't drink too much. Good job on your finals, I knew you could do it.-

Was what he had said, a picture of him in a more relaxed maroon sweater above a black dress shirt with both sleeves dragged up to his elbow, showcasing tattoos you've never noticed before, and usual black slacks and dress shoes were donned and he didn't wear his eyepatch. Next to him was a brightly smiling blue haired girl, sandwiched between a boyish pink haired teen aswell as Mr.Marlowe, the pink haired girl holding the phone up as she threw a peace sign around the toddler's shoulders while she smirked. To the man's other side were two boys, both brown haired, but one was thin and angular and the other taller and thicker, softer features displayed on him. Mr.Marlowe himself looked as suprised as one can expect him to look, but the softness in his smile and gaze was enough to make you sigh out a laugh. So these kids were his family then? You thought with a laugh as you shoved your phone in your coat pocket for the night, letting the others take pictures as you enjoyed your very first Christmas, surrounded by people you love.

For New Years you had decided with your friends to set off fireworks at the beach bordering River Pilt, a picnic set on the towel covered sand while you four were huddled up under fleece blankets, eating, drinking, laughing and talking until the alarm you had set rang and they set off to prepare the fireworks, the bottle of champaigne all of you saved up until now was finally out ofthe basket with four plastic flutes. But as you go to help with the festive display your phone rings, confused you excuse yourself and find yourself surprised at seeing the caller ID as Mr.Marlowe's.

"Hello, sir! How are you?"

"I'm doing well, today was rather calm for me, the kids have all gone to their friends' houses for the weekend."

You can't rail in the giggle escaping you fast enough at his dejected tone, the cold breeze caressing you as you huddled up in your fleece. He had never mentionned or showed you his children before the holidays, but being allowed past that boundary and seeing a glimpse of his private life, as well as how he was towards his children, was positively riveting.

"Come on now, you can't be spending your New Years alone now can you sir?"

"I can and I am." He sighs. "It sounds like you're not alone though."

"Yes, we're at the beach. Had a picnic dinner and now we're setting up fireworks. Well they are."

"Would you rather join them?" His voice is lower and you can't help the twinge in your heart at what felt like an all too familiar loneliness permeating his tone.

"No, they've got it covered. Plus I'm glad to spend a bit of that time with you, so don't worry. I won't lie that I've missed you during the holidays sir, as preoccupied as I have mostly been, your presence is still one I seek above all." I huff out a small laugh. "Sorry, festivities have me feeling sappy, I suppose. Don't mind me."

A small silence stretches before you hear three clinks, glass on glass, then the sound of a liquid filling a receptacle.

"I've missed you too" He says after a while. "I've already finished reading your gift, and am currently reading it again. Perhaps I should be the one offering you a thorough analysis next time we're in my office?" His voice is teasing and soft and you can imagine the look in his eye as he says those words, narrowed, crows feet framing the outside of his eye as his brows lift and his lips shift into a smirk.

"I'll be expecting great things Mr.Marlowe."

"I hope I won't disappoint."

"I don't think you ever could." Your words echo back to the last ones he's said to you after your first meeting in his office, and as a soft hum escapes him you know he remembers that day as much as you. While you were getting lost in thought your friends yelled a countdown, lighting the fireworks. And as they reach zero, a resounding whistling echoes, your three friends yelling Happy New Year in unison before the sky lit up with a succession of crackles and explosions.

"Happy New Year, darling."

Your heart flipped, his voice louder than all of the excitement surrounding you, your knees growing weak at the affectionate name, your voice breathless as you answer him, the man closing the call after your words were softly uttered.

"Happy New Year to you too, sir."

The rest of your holidays went without a hitch, the remainder of New Years spent lighting more fireworks, drinking champaigne and and having a good time until you went back home, while the last few days were spent warmly at home, pondering the petname Mr.Marlowe had used, and how it made you feel. You heard friends using nicknames and petnames on each other all the time, your messy whirlwind of feelings was probably due to this being the first time you were called by a name other than your own, "soldier", or "girl" by the rich Noxian nobles.

The biting Zaunite winter cold had made it harder on you, your ankle hurting and stiff, your back feeling brittle and stretched thin, but when the elevator to your dorms stopped working in the last few days leading up to back to class, you had to take the stairs. The cold and the growing strain making your strength waver on the Sunday and having you drop down half a flight of stairs and vibrant, searing hot pain ran through your body like River Pilt between the canyons of Zaun. And as you crawled back to your dorm, you dreaded the next day.

Pain burnt through you as you woke up, the elevator finally repaired but your fall from the previous day forcing you to take your wheelchair. Panicking as although you left earlier than usual, knowing your condition would have you take even longer than usual, you were still late. The campus not at all made for wheelchair users and disabled people in general. And while it was usually annoying, your anger was only a simmer while now it was boiling over. Holding back tears of frustration for your condition and shame at your tardiness, you finally make it to the building. The door to the class hard to open when every movement spelled out agony for you, you decide to send a message to Mr.Marlowe in hopes that even if the class had started nearly half an hour ago, you could get him to open the door. And after sending the message and shoving your phone back in your coat you were surprised to see the door open, Mr.Marlowe confused at first then his face fell, the usual controlled façade slipping as he observes your sitting form, face twisted in silent pain. He looked pained for you at first, opening the door wide for you to roll in. Then as you set yourself up at your table slowly, you look at him, his discomfort at your condition morphed to silent anger, his eye narrowed sharply, his eyebrows furrowd, his lips in a snarl. You heard the whispers, saying they hoped you wouldn't get scolded too hard, and you wished the same too. But when the class ended and as you waited for all the students to filter out, papers were put on your table gently. Looking up to see Mr.Marlowe he leans on the hands he disposed on your desk.

"What happened?" His voice asked softly.

"I fell down, sir. The elevator at my dorm was broken up until yesterday left afternoon so i've had to climb up and down the stairs, I just fell. I'll be fine soon don't worry, I'm sorry for being late. It's just that a lot of the campus is gravel paths and grass, and many stairs don't have a slope for wheelchairs." You say, voice rushed and meek at the thought of upsetting him.

"I don't care how long you take to heal." His voice mutters harshly before his hands find yours, a sigh escaping his lips as if hurried, like he was a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. "You should've told me, I could have helped."

"But-" He shushes you, I didn't wanna bother you, almost escaping your lips. "You wouldn't have bothered me. I'll bring you to whichever classes i have a free schedule for, for as long as you need your wheelchair. I don't want to hear you refuse."

You purse your lips, eyes looking into his. He looked positively pissed, yet not at you and you knew that as he muttered about how the campus should have been made with injured and disabled people in mind but that of course since a Piltovan was the architect, they'd forgone such accessibility. He paced as his hands ranked through his hair, messing it up more than it fixed it.

"As a veteran you'd think people would care more about disabilities when you've seen your fair share of comrades come out of war missing limbs and organs if they were alive at all." Is grumbled as he gently assembled your notes in your filer, closing your notebook and filling your pencil case with the stationary set on the desk before putting everything back in your bag. "Let me help please." It was a statement and not a question, he didn't seek for you to accept his request but to understand his intentions, and as always with him you couldn't say no. Your body nodding before your mind had time to fully register the words escaping your friend's mouth.

And help he did, on mornings and afternoons, between his classes and during his empty office hours, your friends helping in early mornings and late afternoons as your schedule differed the most with Mr.Marlowe's around these times. Sometimes he'd even have a coffee ready, a pastry snaked in your hand before a pain killer followed suit. And for the duration of the two weeks it took you to recover from your fall, the cold striking your hurting body and keeping it from recovering as fast, he continued. Steadfast in hisgentle kindness, occupying your journies with usual book talks, angry ramblings about the ZTC's despicable accesibility measures, and other yet friendlier topics. It was so strange, albeit always kind to you he was never usually doting, he had a reputation as a strict yet kind and passionate teacher and he wished to keep it. But as soon as he saw you in that wheelchair it's like it flipped a switch in his mind, he cared not for maintaining his façade anymore not even when all stares were turned to the both of you talking as he wheeled you across buildings or even the campus to your next course. It made this strange new feeling blossom in your chest again, bigger, brighter and warmer, like a hearth's fire, his care acting as a fuel to the flame. The more you thought about it the more you were reminded of his nickname for you on New Years, of all the moments you had shared of his office, of all the kindness and care he offered you, about how this feeling was the one you experienced now everyday as you used his fountain pen and notebook. It was a mess, and the more you looked at it, the more you feared for yourself as a name of a feeling you knew about flickered in and out of vision whenever you thought of Mr.Marlowe, of your friend. You didn't dare even think of it, erasing it from your mind as soon as its shadow appeared in your peripherals. You didn't dare to even think of thinking about it. He was your friend, your dearest friend, and all you were feeling was simply the gratitude for such steadfast support and care, at least that's what you told yourself everytime you looked at him. The small mantra taking more and more space in your days as the parasitic thought of the feeling you'd rather not name made itself more known in Mr.Marlowe's presence, which became a constant daily occurence and plunged you deeper into the avoidance of your own betraying feelings.

On the second Friday you recieve a message from the man.

-I appologize but I might be late to our usual meeting as I will be with the board that afternoon, I will leave my office key at the reception so just give them your name and they'll hand it to you. Get comfortable in the office, I hope you use the couch for a more comfortable position. I'll see you later.-

And your heart soared as it now did everytime he displayed such gentleness and thoughtfulness. Your ideas mixing and swirling like watercolor paint in a mug of water after the artist has washed his brush. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, steadying yourself as you thank him for the heads up and get ready for the day, which thankfully went by fast with the only class you had being at the end of the morning. Later on around 5 p.m you arrive at the administrative building, telling your name to the receptionist and obtaining the key to Mr.Marlowe's office to which to glided to quite easily due to the smooth floors, setting yourself on the plush yet ornate couch, your thick thighs and hips taking up the entirety of the space as you laid down, head resting on a pillow propped up against the couch's arm. Music had been blasting in your earphones for a good 30 minutes before the door opened to your friend's svelte form, and taking away your earphones he raises his hand to signal at you to not get up while he went to get one of the chairs in front of his desk, picking the left one which you usually use.

"What happened?" Your voice softly called out as he snipped the tip of a cigar, lighting it and inhaling the smoke right after, his tense body relaxing as he blows it out.

"I went to talk to the board about the lack of accessibility and of notice when amenities such as elevators stop functionning. It's a lack of respect and consideration to left such things happen and I am quite sure I drove the point home enough for them to understand." He sighs, one arm draped over the back of the seat, his other hand raking through his messy hair while the cigar was held between his lips as he took a mouthful of smoke, legs spread comfortably. Deep down, you chastise yourself for admiring Mr.Marlowe, not only was he about twice your age, but he was also your teacher, and your friend, your inner pit of vipers hisses at you. It felt shameful and disrespectful to rake your eyes like that over a man that doted on and cared for you, you'd call it blasphemous if you believed in any of the deities of Runeterra. And with how your dear friend permeated more and more of your mind, the idea of sending yourself on a pilgrimage to Mount Targon sounded better by the second, wheelchair, crutch or not, you'd even consider crawling to it by this point.

While you admonished yourself in your own head Mr.Marlowe had set a cup of hot cocoa in front of you, his own held in the hand draped over the back of his chair as his eyes looked at you in concern, your lack of response probably taken as some sort of silent treatment.

"Thank you sir, it's still hard to grasp how good you are to me so sometimes my brain just sort of restarts." You sigh, speaking a half truth obscuring the growing, terrifying notion growing within you. "I know we're friends but the kindness, the doting and the gentleness is still very new to me." You mull over the next words before sighing. "And you know I'd do the same on my side if I could."

His restless face melts into a smile, the tension all but disappearing as he relaxes and gets up from the chair, walking to his desk to stub his cigar in his ashtray and retrieve a notebook that he opens as he sets himself next to you on the couch, lifting your legs gently to set them on his lap.

"I said I'd take over today's note reading, didn't I? Would it be fine we you if we started now?" He smiles gently at you, one arm propped over the back of the couch while his hand kept the book open, the other one gently massaging your leg. And you nod, once more unable to resist his request, drinking in every words spilling from his lips like a wanderer who found an oasis in the deepest recesses of the Shuriman desert. Every word uttered flowing from him as he looked from the book to you, then back to his notes, the rumble of his voice like rolling thunder in the distance, similar to a war drum, commanding attention. When he talked, it was always as if all the oxygen in the room emanated from him, like he was a black hole sucking all of the attention, the cadence, tone and words he spoke like a spell emptying the mind of anything but him.

Him with his manicured style, always in clothes not dissimilar to a suit, hair like a raven's feathers softly powdered with snow, arms hidden behind sleeves hiding skin deep ink that wrapped around him in delicate and artful tendrils. Him with the gravelly voice, bitter and strong like coffee yet always softened with milk and caramel when it came to you. Him with a passion for literature rivalling Noxus' thirst for war and conquest. Him who was cold and distant, building walls around his heart similarly to you, yet just like you letting them crumble down in your presence. Him who smelled of tobacco, coffee, a woodsy cologne and cloves. Him who offered you the most gentle of looks, soft as silk, the sweetest of smiles, sugary and slow like a drizzle of pure honey, the cold tumultuous ocean of his teal eye always warm and calm as he basked in your presence. Him who could control you like a puppet on a string, like a soldier and her commanding officer, yet only ever used his power to have you care for yourself and to care for you himself, softly and gently loving you more than you could have hoped for anyone to do. Him who somehow always knew when something was wrong or amiss and wordlessly brought you back to him, plunging in the abyss of your heart and mind to retrieve you from the voices and the visions, from the clawing of the damned and the hissing venomous vipers. Him who currently caresses your pained leg so gently as he talks about his thoughts and theories he had while reading your gift, in great detail.

Him who you loved.

And your heart panged as his voice grew more delighted at his letters, your mind fractured as one half engraved his words in your soul and the other screamed in anguish.

You had fallen in love.

The one thing the books you read described as the sweetest, truest of feelings. Pure, romantic love, a seed planted on the very first day you met, watered in the care and hard work both of you put into your companionship, now grown and blooming within your heart and lungs. Twisting around your nerves to send shivers through your body, blossoms filling your psyche with their entrancing words of encouragement and their bitter woeful mockery. But to you it wasn't beautiful, not at the moment, it was panic enducing, it was making every breath feel like a lungful of gasoline, mouth dry and pasty as your eyes stung. Mr.Marlowe had placed his trust, his mentorship, his friendship, in the palm of your hands and you had crumpled it unknowingly. Letting yourself love someone in this way could ruin you, and all of a sudden all of the thoughts and feelings growing louder in your mind as of late make sense. And it was not necessarily wrong you knew that, it was normal for people to fall in love, it was normal for someone like you so hurt and broken, to fall for someone who cares for them in the way Mr.Marlowe cared for you.

But by the Gods it was terrifying. He always had power over you, words capable of stopping you in your tracks, of making you obey any and all requestions, and as your feelings grew beneath the cracked surface of the barren, cold fields of your heart, left burnt and bloodied by war; so did the power of his voice. Bringing forth feelings you never thought yourself capable of having, pulling you deeper beneath the teal waters and raging infernos of his eyes. Each interraction destoying you and building you back up, as if he were a toymaker and you were his little wooden soldier.

And as terrifying as it was, you loved it.

You knew it was wrong to love your teacher, you've learned of that from gossip between your friends, because it was a conflict of interest. A teacher graded your papers and had authority over you, which could mean you could be coaxed into submission or use your relation as a way to gain extra points even if they were undeserved, and that was wrong. That much you knew. But as someone who never truly dealt with an academy setting, it wasn't what mattered the most to you. No what mattered was that you felt like you had betrayed your friend's trust my biting off way more than you could chew, feeling like you were stealing his integrity from him. But also because you knew, although not much was shared about your pasts, that he was a veteran, a high ranking one at that. Which explained a bit of how his demands and inquiries were immediately taken into account and executed by you. But it also meant that you, as a lower ranked militia officer, you'd have to deal with death penalty, at least that's how it was in Noxus. Visions of lovers butchered in front of the platoons and units, your squad always standing at the forefront of the disgustingly horrifying spectacle even as a child. It didn't feel wrong because of societal standards, although you tried to fit in and respect them, no it felt wrong because to you love had always spelled out death.

And as you return home, Mr.Marlowe wheeling you pack to the elevator in your building, and close the front door to your dorm, you break down. It felt like even if you weren't in Noxus anymore, falling in love would take away all that you had spilt blood sweat and tears for and built this semester, take away what you had with the man who you felt for so deeply, that it'd be the death of you.

And with how your lungs burned, how your body ache and how your heart screamed in agony, it might as well have been.

prev || m.list || next

[slayanyhivegodslately]

CIRCLE SQUARE TRIANGLE CONE CYLINDER PYRAMID CUBE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[iamthedukeofurl]

So this is just my take, but the key to understanding Kabru Dungeon Meshi is understanding that the Touden's party was one of the top parties in the dungeon.

You eventually learn the mission they were on when they encountered the red dragon, and it involved going as far into the dungeon as anybody had gone before. Their party lineup was two top-level mages, Marcille and Falin (okay, Marcille's practical magic skills are kind of questionable, but we're told that Falin was extremely talented within her areas of specialty) Two excellent fighters: Shuro and Namari, and Chilchuck, who considering that he runs the guild, is likely one of the most experienced half-foot trapsmiths working on the island. Laios is party leader, and while he's not the greatest fighter, he's quite good, and his obsessive knowledge of monsters means that he can guide the others. You see how Laois's knowledge helps the party already, now imagine if they had a support caster, a dwarf whose almost certainly a much better fighter than Senshi, and another tallman who is almost certainly a much better fighter than Laois all working on that knowledge.

So with that in mind, lets revisit Kabru and his obsession. Kabru knows people, and can read them very well. He's also got a wider perspective on the nature and danger of dungeons due to his backstory. Kabru isn't here to get rich delving the dungeon, he's here to Solve A Problem. He's a relatively recent arrival to the island, that or his mismatched skillset means that he and his party are much slower to progress through it than the Touden's party. Either way, he spots the Touden party as The Party To Watch when it comes to conquering the dungeon. Laois, as party leader, is obviously of particular concern. So, Kabru turns all his insight onto Laois and he gets...nothing. Laois cares about money from a pragmatic standpoint, but isn't especially concerned with it. He's easily conned. He's not driven by hatred, greed, or ambition. There's some curiosity there, but it's not the driving curiosity of an obsessive academic, Laois is an enthusiastic hobbyist who has figured out how to make his particular interest into a valuable skillset. Kabru is looking for the protagonist of an epic fantasy tale, and he finds...just a guy. A guy who didn't feel at home anywhere, and found a place and a life where he was welcome and valued. A guy whose skillset and companions puts him first in a race he doesn't even know he's running. And if you're Kabru, that's infuriating and fascinating in equal measure.

[dwaekkicidal]

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[bunnis-monsters]

🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️

Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)

Male!Drider x Fem!Reader

Oct2

warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise

summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.

A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…

my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~

If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.

But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.

First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.

You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.

Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.

Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.

That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.

Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…

How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?

So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.

You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.

‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’

The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.

“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”

You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”

With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.

As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.

A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.

“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”

When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.

And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!

“Shit!”

You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.

By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.

You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.

“Fuck…”

Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.

You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.

This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.

Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.

It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.

Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…

The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.

‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’

But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.

You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…

Darkness.

——————

When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.

You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.

He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.

“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”

As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.

“Are those… webs..?”

You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.

“Indeed.”

The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.

Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.

‘The legend… is true?’

You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…

“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”

He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”

His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.

“Far from it…”

Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.

“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”

He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”

You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.

Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”

He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.

“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.

Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.

“Gods, you’re so soft…”

He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”

Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.

“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”

He smiled, beginning to push in.

“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”

It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.

“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”

And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.

He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”

Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…

He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…

He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.

“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”

As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.

So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?

You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.

“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”

The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.

So you decided to stay… at least for now…

Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[ashfae]

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

[tanaor]

Want to worldbuild like a pro??

(📖 Master tips and everything I know📖)

Hello writers! You don't know how to worldbuild? Don't know where to start explaining the world you have created? Don't worry, you are in the right place! I have been there myself, and after many research (and even more trial and error) I have put together a list of the best worldbuilding tips I have encountered, and also created some of my own. (I know the first one is kind of overheard, but trust me).

Don't start right away with worldbuilding. A long paragraph about how your world works and its history might overwhelm new readers. A lot of other writers suggest waiting and learning about the world at the same time the protagonist does, or if that doesn't work for your story, dropping bits of information while the story moves forward. However, if you want to give a sense of how your world works from the start...

Exposition through action. This is my favorite method, and it helps a lot if you don't want to pause your story to info dump about the world you have created. Instead, this method relies on explaining the world and its dynamics while you continue with the narrative, briefly. For example: "As always, you couldn't see any trees in the meadow. The king had ordered years ago to cut each one of them because of a prophecy that foretold that the last dragon egg would lay in an oak."

Use expressions that reference normality or routines. In the last point, we used "as always", but there are tons of expressions you could use in your writing. This helps the reader understand what is the norm in this new world and what things are common, to later detect something that is not within that norm (or sometimes just to understand the world and its traditions better).

Use flashbacks when necessary. If you need to explain a very specific or detailed topic, I suggest using a flashback scene, that will help the reader understand with the narration and dialogue, instead of just explaining it to them. It makes for a more dynamic learning experience. But, at the end...

Do whatever will intrigue you. Some readers even like info dumps, and there is not one correct way to show your world. If it would make you curious, go and do it, wether people say it's correct or not. There are a lot of successful books that randomly stop to explain something about the world, and there is nothing wrong with that if you like it.

Hope you find this list useful, and as always happy writing :)

Also, if you are interested in tips or more examples of a specific topic, you can always leave a question in my ask. I'd be glad to answer it!!

Other tips for writers: previous | next

[saturnsbabyboii]

✧Saturn Through the Houses✧

(Brought to you by Sailor Saturn)

(It's important to note that Saturn, it's energy and lessons are transcending so you may not completely relate to it's house exclusively, as the the placement of the sign ruler, along with the aspects made to Saturn play a vital role in understanding the planet.)

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Within astrology, the planet Saturn is renowned for its role as a strict but devoted and highly effective mentor and teacher. Its overarching influence and energy are said to challenge us to work diligently, with an unwavering sense of discipline, while also placing a strong emphasis on the importance of responsibility and constraints. Often depicted as a personification of Father Time, Saturn serves as a powerful reminder of the limitations and constraints that time places upon us all. We would make little or no progress if Saturn did not exist. We live in a physical world, and Saturn encourages us to deal with it. Saturn plays a crucial role in bringing order and discipline into our lives. It challenges us to confront the harsh realities of life and helps establish a sense of structure and control. When Saturn influences a particular area of our natal chart, it can cause delays or obstacles. It is often associated with a cold and unyielding nature, earning it the nickname of "heavy" or "leaden." Going against Saturn's influence, would cause your life to turn chaotic and lacking in direction.

As the governor of old age and the lessons that come with it, Saturn is a planet that emphasizes the value of learning life's lessons as we grow older and wiser. It is said to admire the wisdom and authority that comes with age and is often considered the planet of karma, representing the lessons that we must learn in this lifetime. Despite its association with life's more challenging aspects, it is often noted that things tend to improve significantly after the age of thirty, as we become wiser and better equipped to handle life's many challenges.

Saturn represents a wide range of important concepts, aspects, and attributes within life that can be seen in astrology, including concentration, effort, perseverance, time, consequences, old age, authority, discipline, work ethic, life lessons, and karma. It rules the signs of Capricorn and Aquarius and is noted for taking a total of 28-30 years to complete its orbit.

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✧Saturn in the 1st house✧

Dealing with Saturn in the natal chart is never easy, as it is known as the Greater Malefic for a reason. When Saturn is placed in the first house, it gains strength and influence over your life. This placement indicates that your childhood was not as carefree as that other children, this could be especially when it comes to your peers and/or your siblings. You may have had to mature quickly. Your parents expected you to take responsibility for things that a child cannot, and this caused you to experience limitations and hardships. Individuals with Saturn in the first house are also extremely critical of themselves. They may possess a reserved or cautious disposition in social gatherings and exhibit a strong inclination toward maintaining structure and order in their daily lives. This placement may also bring challenges and obstacles to the individual's sense of self-identity. However, with consistent hard work and perseverance, they can effectively conquer these hurdles and gradually cultivate a strong sense of self. 

As an individual with Saturn in the first house, you may have been a timid child and have found it challenging to be spontaneous or feel at ease around others. When encountering a new situation, you tend to approach it with indefinable skepticism and challenge its foundations. You are wary of situations and people, uncovering their machinery step-by-step, and if necessary, dispute them uncompromisingly. People may perceive you as serious and reserved, which can be difficult when trying to make friends or to feel accepted. These perceptions may lead to a diminished sense of self-worth, which can be reinforced by the reactions of others. As you gain more life experience, you will conquer these challenges and enhance your confidence. Surrounding yourself with supportive and understanding individuals can be immensely beneficial in this situation. It is important to choose those who will encourage you to become the best version of yourself rather than force you further down in the covert guise of wanting "what's best for you". Your sense of what's right and what's wrong is stronger than most, so unless you value and respect someone's then I wouldn't recommended taking their advice.

Your appearance and identity are likely closely tied to your status in society. Regardless of your size, complexion and general expression and appearance, it may not have been easy for you to walk through this world earlier in life. This could mark you for a special purpose or destiny. Such a feeling can weigh heavily on you and may prompt you to be ambitious and assume loads of responsibility and leadership at an early age. However, it may also cause you to move through life with a heavy heart and a chip on your shoulder. You might take your life and yourself too seriously and lament that others, especially adults when you were younger, don't live up to their ideals. Because Saturn is related to the 10th and 11th house, respectively, its position in the 1st house suggest you might've been in the public eye since a very young age or you're part of a generational pathology of some sorts that is related to public image, money, business or belonging to an all around strong and influential family.

The first house represents your childhood. Saturn in the first house suggests that you didn't have one, or at least it wasn't perfect or easy, as you were likely seen as the family pillar. You assume the role of provider, both emotionally and literally, very early on. However, if you can't be a child, you won't be able to be an adult later on. Saturn in the first house indicates that you did not have enough time to mature, engage in romantic relationships, or have fun with your friends. You may not have had any friends at all. This could suggest that you experience feelings of anxiety and guilt. Saturn represents your innermost fears, and with it placed in the first house, these apprehensions may be deeply ingrained within you.

People with Saturn in the first house usually had strict parents. With this placement, your relationship with your parents was rarely smooth. When you were a child, you often perceived them as cold and emotionally unavailable. Saturn in the first house people frequently have a parent who has unrealistic expectations and is very strict. You frequently felt judged, and in some cases, you learned to be a harsh judge of yourself as well. Your parent or someone you saw as an authority figure as a child was most likely conservative and traditional and desired to raise you by these principles.

As you mature, you can learn to lighten up and laugh at life and everyone's foibles, including your own. Saturn in the first house teaches you to rely on yourself. Often, you can't rely on anyone except yourself, and rarely on your family. People with Saturn in the first house often had to mature at a young age. Perhaps their family expected them to care for a family member, and Saturn's position in the natal chart placed a heavy burden on their shoulders. The benefit of Saturn in the first house is that you learned self-control and persistence, which will serve you well later in life. You've grown accustomed to hard work and aren't afraid of it.

Being emotionally stunted and being detached are one the hardest lessons you'll have to tackle under Saturn, as it is a survival tactic you had to develop to be able survive yet at some point it won't serve you anymore, as it would in fact harm you later in life. As you heal with time and self work, the sensitive child within you will have it's time to heal and shine. The biggest lesson you'll learn in life is to be able to have a healthy and sustainable a sense of self. 

✧Saturn in the 2nd house✧

The planet Saturn is a challenging presence in one's natal chart. It reveals the karmic lessons that must be learned during this lifetime. If your natal Saturn is in the second house, you must master the art of being self-reliant and working hard. Eventually, you will have to confront your fears and challenges. People with Saturn in the second house are often afraid of financial and material scarcity. They fear being left without any assets to rely on. As a result, they tend to be very frugal with their resources. However, Saturn in the second house also brings a strong sense of responsibility and discipline when it comes to managing finances and possessions. This placement may lead to challenges and delays in accumulating wealth, but with patience and perseverance, financial stability and security can still be achieved. It is important to strike a balance between saving and enjoying the fruits of one's labor, and not become overly attached to material possessions. Saturn in the second house can bring a practical and grounded approach to managing resources and building a solid foundation for the future.

The position of Saturn in the second house of an individual's chart is a significant indicator of long-term financial security. It suggests that nothing is certain and that what one possesses today may be lost tomorrow. Consequently, money becomes a top priority for those with this placement, instilling in them a reluctance to spend irrationally and instead directing their focus towards saving and investing for the future. While Saturn's placement in the second house can bring about prosperity during later years of life, thanks to responsible financial habits, it also represents a fear of losing material possessions and wealth. This fear can sometimes lead to setbacks, even for those who are extremely affluent. This can be a challenging lesson, but Saturn's ways of making money are often obtained through honesty, hard work, perseverance, and consistency. Building up experience over time can also help you become financially successful. Individuals with this placement understand that success is a product of hard work and determination, but Saturn's anxieties are often deeply seeded and require significant effort to overcome. It is imperative to remember that Saturn's challenges tend to subside after one's Saturn return, as they become older and more experienced.

From your childhood to young adult years, you had to learn how to live with minimal help. There may have been a lack of available resources or you had to start working at a young age. This often indicates that you may have come from a less privileged background. Growing up, you may have felt a sense of lack and learned to work hard for what you needed, rather than asking for it. This can sometimes lead to low self-esteem, as you may have compared yourself to others who had more. This can make it difficult for you to charge for what you earned or ask for money, as you may not believe that you are worth it. However, it is important to learn to value yourself more and work on your self-esteem. Remember, there are no get-rich-quick schemes with Saturn in the second house. It may take time and effort, but with dedication and persistence, you can overcome any financial obstacles. Saturn may delay, but it is never denied.

Saturn's biggest lesson for you is that you're worth it. Regardless of what you have, how much you earn, and what you do and don't do with your money and time, you're worthy of being loved, of being appreciated, of being happy.

✧Saturn in the 3rd house✧

Having Saturn in the 3rd house often indicates a serious and disciplined approach to communication and learning. This placement may suggest a cautious or reserved attitude towards expressing oneself and a tendency towards self-criticism or perfectionism in intellectual pursuits.

Saturn in astrology represents constraints, impediments, and delays. Wherever Saturn appears, one can expect to face struggles in some way. People with Saturn in the third house may have difficulty connecting with others, as Saturn represents blockages in this life area, which is the house of communication. Learning to communicate can be a challenging task for them. Their mode of assimilation is demanding and selective, which excludes simple relationships and fanciful innovations. Before accepting a person, an idea, or a formula, they need to sift them through their inflexible will and understand them. They sort out all pieces of information with a serious mind, but also with caution and skepticism. 

People with Saturn in the third house may face speech impediments, require hearing aids, or need specialized education. They may struggle with difficult sibling relationships or experience delays in their education. They may also find it challenging to engage in small talk or make friends, especially with those who live nearby. These individuals may feel uncomfortable around strangers and acquaintances, and they may not be well-known in the community. Childhood scars may have a greater influence on them, and they may remember their immediate surroundings as being cold and depressing, especially when they were younger. 

Individuals who have Saturn in their third house often struggle with their interactions with the outside world and may feel insecure about it. Short trips can still be challenging and exhausting. As a child, they may have been teased by their peers, and they may have communication or speech problems. They may find it difficult to speak up, and their thought process may require more time to process information. However, this placement suggests that an individual may frequently beat themselves up over past events. It is crucial to consciously shift focus to the present and future, which are areas where one has control. The third house represents elementary school years and relationships with peers, teachers, and acquaintances. Therefore, Saturn in this house may indicate difficulty in school, whether it be learning or socializing. As a child, one may have felt lonely and misunderstood, struggling to share their ideas with others. They may have had difficulty connecting with relatives, including siblings, and avoided meeting new people. Their minds work slowly but steadily, and they need to organize their thoughts to learn effectively. It is important to note that these challenges do not indicate a lack of intelligence but rather a much thorough mind. In astrology, Mercury and the third house describe an individual's mental abilities. Those with Saturn in the third house have a unique way of thinking and are capable of solving difficult problems and testing out theories, they're also endowed with a great memory.

The good news is that problems with Saturn usually improve after one's Saturn return. In time these individuals become more self-assured in their interactions with people in their neighborhood and local community as they can overcome obstacles. With dedication and effort, this placement can also bring rewards in terms of increased mental clarity, focus, and mastery of skills. It may also indicate a need to establish clear boundaries or structure in one's relationships with siblings, neighbors, or other close contacts. but with effort. Another benefit of Saturn in the third house is the ability to keep secrets, getting the truth, interrogating, and keeping track of information making them ideal to work with sensitive information, as a detective, a judge, or possibly even politics and the military.

Learning that you have the right to hold court and to speak your mind is Saturn's biggest lesson here.

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✧Saturn in the 4th house✧

Having Saturn in the fourth house can be challenging. Saturn represents limitations and difficulties, making it a challenging planet. People who have this placement are often from families that are emotionally distant. As a child, you may have felt like you couldn't get the love and attention you needed from your parents. This placement is associated with inner insecurity and delays in energy, causing roadblocks and obstacles in life. The fourth house is related to home and family, and people with Saturn in this house typically come from families where they didn't receive emotional nurturing. This placement can indicate a karmic task related to one of your parents, typically the nurturing one, and these relationships are rarely easy. Saturn in the fourth house can bring challenges related to family and home life and may indicate a difficult or restrictive upbringing with a heavy emphasis on duty and responsibility. You have a highly selective attitude, seeking a personal world devoid of compromise. Saturn in the fourth house is associated with childhood issues and difficulties growing up and may have resulted in poor living conditions. However, with hard work and discipline, this placement can also bring a strong foundation and deep sense of security in the home. 

People with this placement may have a strong connection to tradition and a desire for stability and structure in their domestic and private lives. Although you may have gone through difficult times as a child or had to flee a strict or traditional family, setting your sights on worldly success with determination and grit, the pull of the past may keep a firm grip on you. It may cause difficulty finding mentor figures or receiving support from others, but if you can honor your independence and remain optimistic, you will eventually gain the momentum and progress you seek.

When Saturn is in your fourth house, it means that you share a karmic bond with your mother or the more nurturing parent. This bond can be quite challenging to handle and may require significant time and effort to resolve in your lifetime. You may need to help your parents at some point in your life. The fourth house signifies your ancestors and family karma, as well as your astrological roots. Saturn is a planet of the past and karmic in the birth chart, so when it collides with the fourth house, you may need to work out some issues before you can move forward. The fourth house also represents endings, such as your final years and what you can expect during old age. Having Saturn in the fourth house may lead to loneliness, restrictions, or poverty in old age, so it's important to develop self-control and confront the past. Once you have healed from past scars, you can live the life you want, rather than what your subconscious beliefs tell you. The way a planet's sign and aspects influence its manifestation is always significant. If Saturn receives harmonious aspects, it may be easier for you to learn the lessons your soul needs to learn in this lifetime. The fourth house also represents your home country and where you grew up. Some planets in the fourth house have an emotional impact on you. People with Saturn in the fourth house may work in real estate or agriculture and have an attachment to the past. They could be collectors who struggle to let go of their possessions, or they may want to return to their childhood home. Saturn's conservatism in this area is not necessarily a bad thing unless it's combined with a lack of understanding. This may result in rigid viewpoints and difficulty understanding where others are coming from. You may also try to impose your beliefs on others. Being nostalgic is not a bad thing, but it's essential to remember that the past was not always easy or better and learn to live in the present moment.

Saturn is not only the planet of the past but also the planet of responsibility. People with Saturn in the fourth house often feel responsible for their family's events, and when things go wrong, they tend to blame themselves. This placement indicates that you're very attached to the past and may torture yourself in the present with things from the past. If Saturn is in the fourth house, your parents or guardians were most likely strict. You may have learned to be harsh on yourself and others. This placement describes a disciplinarian upbringing, where you felt your parents didn't understand you and couldn't love you properly. People with Saturn in the fourth house often have a significant fear of losing their property or home, as well as their family members, whether it's through death or emotional loss. When it comes to building your own home, Saturn can be a constraint, and you may have to fight for a place to live. In some cases, Saturn in the fourth house can lead to a long life. Although those with Saturn in the fourth house may face complex challenges in their family and home life, they can create a solid foundation for themselves and their loved ones by being determined and willing to confront challenges head-on.

✧Saturn in the 5th house✧

The placement of Saturn in the fifth house of a person's birth chart signifies that they may encounter challenges and difficulties regarding their love life, creative expression, and relationships with children. Such individuals may have to put in more effort than usual to achieve success in these areas. Saturn's influence can lead to self-doubt and insecurity, and a tendency towards being overly critical of oneself and others. However, with patience and dedication, Saturn in the fifth house can bring discipline and mastery in creative pursuits and a deeper understanding of the responsibilities and joys of parenthood. 

People with Saturn in the fifth house are not frivolous when it comes to love, childhood, or creativity; they are complex and selective. They seek genuine passion and creativity and are prone to doubt and questioning. Childhood memories usually involve a strict education that adheres to established rules. The fifth house is known as the House of Joy, while Saturn desires work, self-discipline, rules, and structure. The clash between these two entities can create difficulties in the areas of life represented by the fifth house. Saturn in the fifth house can make a person serious and in charge of everything, limiting their ability to connect with their inner child and experience a state of flow. They might feel guilty and ashamed of expressing themselves and be self-conscious. 

People with Saturn in the fifth house tend to be productive, even in their spare time, and find it difficult to unwind and enjoy themselves. However, taking art classes or pursuing creative hobbies can be beneficial, as it can help them get to know themselves better and let go. Saturn desires structure in art, and after the age of 30, people with this placement tend to enjoy life more in the second half of their lives. With effort and determination, they can overcome the challenges posed by Saturn and pursue their interests with passion and discipline.

The fifth house is commonly associated with romance, flirting, and enjoying the company of others. However, if Saturn is present in this house, it can cause delays and a lack of dating opportunities. This may result in a person entering into romantic relationships later in life or feeling a sense of guilt or pressure associated with dating. There may also be insecurities about attractiveness and social skills, leading to difficulty with flirting or dating. Once a partner is found, however, they are likely to stay committed to a solid relationship. These natives tend to take romance seriously and may prefer relationships that lead to long-term commitments. Their love life typically improves after the age of thirty, when the person becomes more carefree and spontaneous. The fifth house also represents children and parenting. With Saturn in this house, it may take longer to become a parent, and there may be a strong sense of responsibility towards one's children. Becoming a parent can lead to increased self-discipline and maturity for both the parent and the child.

✧Saturn in the 6th house✧

Saturn is a valuable planet in our solar system. It embodies order, structure, and discipline, all of which are beneficial in the sixth house. This astrological house is associated with work, health, and daily routines, and in this article, we will explore how Saturn influences each of these areas. Those with Saturn in the sixth house are diligent, hardworking, and often feel a strong sense of obligation. As the sixth house is the house of service in astrology, this trait is not surprising. Saturn's placement in the sixth house can create a sense of responsibility towards work and health, with a need for structure and discipline in daily routines. This can sometimes lead to perfectionism and self-criticism, with a focus on maintaining physical and mental well-being. However, Saturn's influence, hard work, and dedication can also lead to success and mastery in one's chosen field. 

Individuals with this placement may experience some challenges. They may feel separate from their coworkers, struggle to fit into the office environment, and prefer to work independently. They may also feel run down and tired due to the constant workload. However, their character is serious, and they approach their daily tasks with meticulous attention to detail. Their integrity is highly appreciated in the professional arena, and they prefer to speak the truth rather than make shaky compromises. At times, this intransigent image may result in negative consequences. 

While Saturn in the sixth house emphasizes the importance of work in one's life, it is essential to find a balance. People with this placement tend to work hard throughout their lives, and they are extremely self-disciplined. They may be workaholics, but success usually comes later in life due to Saturn's slow and steady growth. Despite the insecurities that Saturn can bring, those with this placement are often concerned with making a positive impact on the world. 

It is common for those with Saturn in the sixth house to undervalue themselves and feel underappreciated by their boss. However, their sense of duty keeps them working hard, and with time and confidence, they may receive the recognition they deserve. They are well-suited for service-oriented fields, such as healthcare or social work, and can also support their coworkers by sharing their knowledge and problem-solving skills. Saturn's placement in the sixth house offers an opportunity to pay back karma through work. The sign of Saturn reveals more about one's karma.

Individuals with Saturn in the sixth house place a high value on routines and stick to them regardless of circumstances. Once they integrate something into their daily routine, it is highly likely to remain there. These individuals are typically loyal to their workplace and do not switch jobs unless necessary. They enjoy structure and organization, preferring to spend their days in a structured and organized manner. Moreover, they do not like changing their routines, not only at work but also in their personal lives. They have a specific plan for how everything should proceed on a good day and tend to enjoy repetition and planning ahead. 

This placement also implies that they have to take care of their bodies, more so than others. Saturn in the sixth house may cause chronic illnesses, as it slows and prolongs everything. Consequently, individuals with this placement may experience pain in their bones and knees and may also have dry skin or digestive issues. However, with self-discipline and perseverance, they can adopt healthy habits and lifestyles. 

Individuals with Saturn in the sixth house may also be prone to anxiety, especially if Virgo is prominent in their natal chart. They tend to worry about things that may never happen. Nonetheless, they can develop healthy habits and be disciplined in taking care of themselves, which should alleviate their anxiety.

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✧Saturn in the 7th house✧

Saturn, in astrology, is known for its serious, responsible, and confining energy. When Saturn is in the seventh house of a natal chart, it affects the area of committed, one-on-one relationships, including both marriage and business partnerships. People with Saturn in the seventh house take their relationships very seriously. Relationships are not just a part of their life but where they have karmic lessons to learn in this lifetime. However, Saturn in the 7th house can also create challenges in partnerships and relationships, leading to a sense of responsibility and duty towards one's significant other, but also a feeling of restriction or limitation in personal freedom. It is essential to learn how to balance one's own needs with those of their partner and communicate openly and honestly to avoid misunderstandings. With effort and patience, this placement can lead to growth and maturity in relationships.

This configuration predisposes to some degree of rigor in human relations, associations, or within the couple. It may not be easy to link up with the world and blend in, but steady honesty works wonders once confidence has dispelled any reluctance and modesty. However, people should never cheat on someone with this placement. One might always feel like the challenger in a world of defending champions. At their best, this constant positioning forges their will, patience, and determination into a stainless-steel quality and nature. While they may be tough and cranky at times, their toughness also makes them reliable. Others can trust them with a great deal, especially if they allow themselves to be governed by fair-minded principles and ideals.

At their worst, they allow life's school of hard knocks to give them a degree of cynicism with honorable mentions in bitterness. Then they'll discover there are fewer and fewer people willing to give them a shot at more as they mature. The world does not owe them anything, but they do owe the world as much as they have to offer. The more they offer what's of lasting value, the longer more of them will exist in the world.

People with Saturn in their seventh house are drawn to serious individuals with serious plans for the future. They seek a long-term, committed relationship. However, Saturn is also associated with limitations and impediments, meaning they are more likely to meet their ideal partner later in life. Additionally, their partners may be significantly older than them and are usually successful in life. These individuals tend to be very shy when young, and their relationship with a parent is often at the root of this. They have a small circle of committed friends rather than a larger circle of shallow friendships, and their friendships tend to last a long time. They are dependable and protective friends, usually meeting their friends at work or in a business setting. They may even meet their future partner this way. While they may struggle in the corresponding life areas in the beginning, they can become a master here later in life, usually after their first Saturn return, around the age of 28-30.

In the realm of astrology, Saturn is widely associated with patience and time. This celestial body is known for embodying life lessons, discipline, and perseverance, but it also tends to evoke fear. For those whose natal chart places Saturn in the seventh house, it is common to experience trust issues and fear abandonment in relationships due to past experiences. This can manifest as a fear of intimacy and a tendency to choose partners who may not be the best fit. Furthermore, childhood issues with a parent can also have a significant impact on adult relationships. Despite these challenges, individuals with Saturn in the seventh house tend to take relationships very seriously and highly value loyalty and accountability. A well-aspected Saturn can lead to a mature and long-lasting marriage, whereas negative aspects may result in a difficult union. Overall, Saturn's placement in the seventh house suggests that relationships will develop at a steady and deliberate pace, even if they come with certain limitations. Saturn in the seventh can also indicate marrying someone powerful, wealthy, intelligent, or may be the head of a business, institute, or act as a member of a board. If Saturn here is in aspect to Pluto then it could indicate marrying into a royalty, presidency, or any person with powerful familial connections. 

✧Saturn in the 8th house✧

The placement of Saturn in the eighth house of a birth chart is a fascinating one. This planet, representing life lessons and karma, is found in a house that strongly influences karma. While it is true that this position has karmic implications, it also has other meanings.

Individuals with Saturn in the eighth house often struggle with establishing intimate relationships. Maintaining strict boundaries in intimate relationships, such as keeping separate bank accounts, may be a pattern for those with Saturn in the eighth house. This placement may result in a lack of commitment or an inability to connect deeply with partners. Such individuals may feel cut off from their instincts, gut feelings, and deeper energy. They may set clear boundaries between themselves and others, leading to a hardened and rigid sense of gut. Fear of losing control of their power may also lead them to hide their abilities and avoid deep transformation. This placement may also result in barriers to intimacy and to transformation due to taking things too seriously. 

In your natal chart, the placement of Saturn in the 8th House can indicate a negative reputation. This is because Saturn is associated with fears, limitations, and restrictions, and its placement in the sector of death, inheritances, and destructions can lead to unconscious manifestations of these effects. The 8th House is also linked to hidden secrets and problems that require dedication to uncover. People with Saturn in the 8th House often have difficulty recognizing their fears, but this placement can also lead to a deep understanding of life, death, and transformation. While Saturn struggles with the emotional intensity associated with water houses, overcoming its challenges can lead to a talent for healing and an ability to see into the soul. Ultimately, facing the challenges of Saturn in the 8th House can lead to radical transformations and a deeper understanding of oneself and others.

Individuals with Saturn in the eighth house may experience a reluctance towards intimacy. Although the eighth house is associated with sex, those with this placement view it as a mysterious bond rather than an instinctual act. Emotional intimacy issues often prevent these individuals from achieving a close connection with their partner. While some may experience physical limitations, the root cause is typically apprehension towards vulnerability. Some choose to avoid commitment altogether, despite appearing to have a high sex drive and engaging in promiscuous behavior. You may marry someone who leads you into debt. It's important to establish boundaries in intimacy, including setting rules for professional intimate relationships. By mastering intimate relationships, you can maintain a healthy balance in your personal and professional life.

People with this placement go through karmic relationships that involve lessons learned in intimacy. It touches upon the issue of limited sexual options and partners, as well as difficulty in forming deep connections with others. There may be a period of celibacy, whether it is voluntary or not, and the possibility of feeling like an incel. Saturn in the 8th might suggest that you're withholding your sexuality from others by restricting and conserving your sexual energy. You control your sexual urges, it doesn't control you. You may be picky when it comes to choosing an intimate partner. Learning to master your sexual energy, accepting intimate experiences, and trusting your gut will help you establish a better trajectory for yourself in love. Put your foot down, stop unwanted advances, and learn who is and is not right for you, and who is to have your energy. Despite what toxic optimists say, not everyone is right for you, and not every lesson needs to be learned in pain. You can grow in greater ways by learning slowly and from a nurturing environment rather than traumatizing yourself. A tree grows much more solid with time, while iron that has been through the test of flames will rust and decay. 

If Saturn is in the eighth house, it may suggest that marriage may bring financial shortages and that there are limitations to your partner's income due to a fear of intimacy. Some people are in relationships where they feel misunderstood by their partner, leading to financial demands as a means of revenge after a divorce. This can result in the loss of money, assets being frozen, or payments of alimony or child support. Such situations can be detrimental to the relationship and should be addressed. 

Your birth chart's Saturn placement indicates areas in which you need to focus your efforts. Specifically, if you have Saturn in the eighth house, you need to learn to manage your deep emotions. If you're willing to work hard on these issues, Saturn will reward you. People with Saturn in the eighth house often have a talent for handling money, making it an ideal placement for bankers, tax advisors, or accountants. However, this placement also comes with financial risks, such as those that can arise from relatives, spouses, taxes, loans, or business partners. Understanding human nature is crucial when dealing with finances, especially in relationships or marriages, where the loss of financial assets during breakups or divorces is common. Individuals with Saturn in the eighth house may have a mastery of psychology and may benefit from lessons in psychotherapy. Shedding outworn rules and regulations is necessary for them to grow. 

The eighth house represents joint assets, such as those from marriage or inheritance, but Saturn's influence can limit these assets. Inheritance battles may be necessary, and it's important to be aware of the fine print in intimate relationships. Saturn's influence in the eighth house emphasizes the need for formality and caution in these situations, as carelessness or naivety can lead to cycles of abuse or manipulation. These natives may find themselves as the will and estate executor.

This placement brings challenges and obstacles in areas of shared resources, intimacy, and inheritance. However, with hard work and perseverance, it can also bring profound growth, inner strength, and resilience. Individuals with this placement can benefit from confronting their fears and facing their shadow selves, leading to a greater sense of empowerment and understanding of the mysteries of life and death. It is essential to note that not all fears are justified, and some may be holding individuals back. 

✧Saturn in the 9th house✧

The ninth house is the house of the abstract mind in astrology. Saturn, the planet of material things, isn't quite at home here. If Saturn is in the ninth house, you may need more time to process new information than others. This does not imply a lack of intelligence; rather, it indicates a lack of structure and discipline in your beliefs and philosophies. Religion, education, and travel may be taken more seriously and maturely by you than by others. The disadvantage is that you may encounter challenges or delays when pursuing higher education or long-distance travel. Nonetheless, with dedication and perseverance, you can achieve your academic or spiritual objectives. 

You may also have a strong appreciation for tradition and cultural heritage, but it's critical that you don't become too rigid or dogmatic in your beliefs. The distinction between conservative rigidity and intolerance, as well as seriousness and austerity, is extremely thin. You value honesty both intellectually and morally. You do not pretend to be knowledgeable, and you value open relationships, even if it means making sacrifices. 

The ninth house is associated with philosophy and your worldview. Saturn in the ninth house people have a strict moral code, may be religious, or express their own opinions. You can gradually change your philosophical viewpoints, but you need proof that you can rely on something. You prefer a structured view of the world and find it difficult to broaden your horizons. If Saturn is afflicted in your natal chart, you may seek external validation for your ideas and be wary of challenging authority figures. 

Saturn seeks stability and structure, whereas the ninth house represents expanding one's horizons. People with Saturn in their natal chart may be resistant to change and fearful of new perspectives, especially if Saturn receives challenging aspects. Some people, on the other hand, may be drawn to foreign cultures, devoting time and effort to learning new languages. As you get older, you may find yourself traveling more and interacting with people from other countries. When traveling, you prefer to plan ahead of time and be organized. 

Higher education is also represented by the ninth house. Some people with Saturn in the ninth house may have been unable to attend college or studied later or for a longer period of time than others. When Saturn is blessed with harmonious aspects, it may indicate a career in higher education or research. Saturn represents endurance, persistence, and a willingness to work hard, making it an excellent sign for a career in education or research. You are a structured thinker who views the problem holistically, and you do not trust new ideas until they have been tested. When you learn something, it sticks with you, and you effectively manage your mental assets. As a teacher, you have a strong sense of responsibility for your students, and you are strict but fair, like Saturn. If you had Saturn in the ninth house as a student, you may have been afraid of authority figures and asking questions, fearing appearing stupid or being mocked.

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✧Saturn in the 10th house✧

When Saturn is placed in the tenth house it describes you as someone who possesses strong self-discipline and determination. You command respect from those around you and are well-regarded in your community. Career-wise, you hold yourself to high standards and have lofty ambitions. Your work ethic is unparalleled, especially if Saturn is in an earth sign. Responsibility comes naturally to you and you have a realistic outlook on life. With Saturn in the tenth house, you are grounded and focused on stability in your professional life. You maintain an authentic public identity and reputation and are aware of the limited time you have to achieve your goals. You have likely faced setbacks in the public eye, which has honed your public identity and professionalism. You are someone who commands great respect and sets an example for others in your profession. While others may have the luxury of slacking off, you uphold rules and codes of conduct and take your work very seriously. Your persistence and ability to handle pressure will eventually lead you to the top.

Your relationship with authority figures in your life can be revealed by examining the tenth house and Saturn. When Saturn is in the tenth house, it may indicate the presence of a strict parental figure, usually the father. Saturn's influence may have taught you discipline and persistence, which can be beneficial for achieving success later in life. However, the strict upbringing may have also resulted in perceiving this parent as cold and emotionally unavailable. It's possible that one or both parents held notable authority or were powerful individuals, with rigid expectations that you had to live up to. This may have included following their rules, acting mature and responsible, or even living out their unfulfilled goals and wishes, regardless of your own desires. As a result, you may have matured quickly and become wise beyond your years, ambitious, hardworking, and professional from a young age. You may have even started working very early in life, such as becoming a child actor or entertainer. Your upbringing may have also made you desire to leave a mark on the world and influence it. 

Being afraid of or having an absent parent may have forced you to learn to be emotionally self-sufficient and mature ahead of your time. Your relationship with your parents serves as the foundation for all of your other relationships, including those with your partner, children, friends, employer, and coworkers. A conflicted relationship with authority figures may be indicated by Saturn in the tenth house, leading you to feel like you cannot rely on them.

Saturn in the tenth house indicates that you are determined to achieve your goals, no matter how much effort it takes. You are willing to work hard, even if it means staying up until the wee hours of the morning. People with Saturn in the tenth understand that success comes with time and effort. They have lofty goals in life and want to be known for their work. However, they are prone to overworking and need to learn how to take breaks. You may also have tendencies toward being a control freak. However, with time and experience, you will become increasingly successful. Success in this area usually comes later in life, usually after your Saturn return. Many people with this placement may have had low self-confidence when they were younger, which in turn they compensate for as they get older by working more than everyone else.

The placement of planets in the tenth house can be a great indicator of one's career path. It can provide insight into the profession that may be best suited for an individual, as well as what experiences they may encounter in their professional life. Saturn in this house is in accidental dignity and is traditionally associated with Capricorn, a zodiac sign ruled by Saturn. People In regards to your career, Saturn in the tenth house often works in fields that require perseverance, long hours, and the ability to climb the ladder. As a governing planet of hierarchy, structure, and organizations in astrology, Saturn's influence in your professional life may lead you to value these aspects. This placement may also indicate a career in government, where a great deal of responsibility is often placed on your shoulders. 

With Saturn in the tenth house, your vocation may involve investing in long-term projects and deepening your knowledge, rather than being swayed by momentary illusions. While you may be criticized for your rigorous, austere, and realistic personality traits, your capacity for self-reflection and learning from setbacks are assets that can benefit you greatly in your professional life. Though you may show your qualities later than others, your tenacity and demanding nature enable you to grow despite setbacks and failures. When well-aspected, this placement endows you with seriousness and reliability that your colleagues and acquaintances will acknowledge and respect. 

You may have had to rely on yourself or your family to succeed, and as a result, you place a great deal of value on your reputation and status. People may look up to you as a leader, particularly if they have seen you rise from humble beginnings. However, it's essential to remember that leadership requires grace and character when stepping down, just as much as it does grit and determination while climbing the ladder. 

People with Saturn in the tenth house often excel in science, research, or teaching careers. This placement also makes for an excellent manager, as it allows you to bring structure to an organization. While success may be slow in coming, Saturn's rewards are permanent and can lead to lasting success.

The tenth house and the sign on its cusp reveal how others tend to perceive you. This perception can often be influenced by any planetary placement in this house. If you have planets in the tenth house, you may be well-known in your community due to your professional accomplishments. However, if Saturn is also present, you may not enjoy being in the spotlight. While you may gain notoriety, it may not come naturally to you and you may need to learn how to deal with it. During your younger years, you may be shy and awkward. Saturn in the tenth house can cause others to see you as strict, hardworking, and serious. You may be well-liked and respected in your community, but at the same time, viewed as cold and distant. Despite being known by many, you may not be particularly close to them. If Saturn is aspected negatively in your natal chart, you may become arrogant and insensitive.

✧Saturn in the 11th house✧

Saturn is familiar with the eleventh house as it is associated with Aquarius, which was previously ruled by Saturn before the discovery of Uranus. Individuals with Saturn in the eleventh house may feel lonely in social situations, particularly during their younger years, and may have difficulty making friends due to a lack of like-minded individuals. Connecting with large groups of people is also challenging for those with this natal chart placement, and they may be late bloomers when it comes to socializing. This is because they may have misused their talents or experienced suppression in the past, leading to difficulty in this aspect of life. Social anxiety is common among those with Saturn in the eleventh house, leading to caution around others and a lack of self-confidence. Some may avoid social situations altogether, while others may overcompensate and try extremely hard to fit in. Success in the professional realm may also come later in life, as individuals with this placement tend to prefer staying in the background, missing out on potential opportunities that come through others.

Although the eleventh house pertains to friendship, it doesn't pertain to close friendships, but rather to impersonal and casual friendships or your social circle. If Saturn is in the eleventh house, it indicates that you tend to be quiet and reserved in social situations. You have a reserved personality type, which means that you require a significant amount of time to be yourself in any group, and even then, you are rarely the center of attention. Peer recognition is usually lacking in your life, and you may sometimes feel invisible as if no one hears you in a crowd. You frequently feel as if you don't belong anywhere.

If Saturn receives challenging aspects, you may become arrogant or develop a dislike for networking. Learning to be dependable and genuine while remaining self-confident is a significant challenge with this placement. However, you must learn how to have a healthy relationship with groups and how to behave in your social circle during this lifetime. This is not to say you're a bad friend. You are not: People with Saturn in the eleventh house are caring and loyal once they become close to someone. You feel responsible for your friends, and your friendships typically endure. You can give love and affection, but you may struggle to accept it, resulting in an imbalance in your relationships.

People with Saturn in the eleventh house frequently have older friends, and the groups and organizations they belong to are usually exclusive or only permitted for upper echelons. These organizations tend to be formal, with a dress code and strict rules. Some examples include AARP or the Soho. A group of professionals or business people, and traditional groups with outstanding panels, rings of accountability, wise orders, gulf clubs, country clubs, conscience councils, or gathering duties. This person is interested in being part of a secret society or even to be an aristocrat.

When you have Saturn in the eleventh house, you tend to withdraw from the crowd and surround yourself with serious, solemn, and mature individuals. You prefer organizations for the mature and feel that an old friendship should not be traded for a superficial, short-lived relationship. Instead, you carefully select your friends and keep them for a long time, as you need loyal friends to build long-term projects. As you get older, you often make younger friends, and friendships are frequently formed in the workplace. This planet emphasizes the significance of professional networking, and depending on your Saturn sign, you may work best in business groups and associations.

The eleventh house in astrology also represents hopes and dreams and how they materialize and income from your profession. Saturn's influence in this house brings stability, but financial gains earned through hard work may be postponed. However, as you age, your financial situation is likely to improve. People with Saturn in the eleventh house tend to focus on long-term goals and prefer a consistent approach to making money instead of quick and unstable methods. Saturn rewards hard work, but it is not a planet of instant gratification. Individuals with this placement may have a hard time believing in their ability to achieve their goals due to a fear of failure. However, the eleventh house is also associated with humanitarian ideals, and helping others can improve Saturn's influence. Volunteering is an excellent way to contribute to those in need and share your knowledge, experience, creativity, time, or money. Remember, everyone has something to offer, and we can all make a difference.

✧Saturn in the 12th house✧

If Saturn is in your twelfth house in astrology, it suggests that a lot is happening beneath the surface. Saturn is known as the planet of obstacles and challenges, while the twelfth house is associated with dissolution. Consequently, it can be challenging to relax and let go, and you may frequently feel lonely or trapped. Those with Saturn in the twelfth house often struggle to forgive themselves and may be trapped in the past. Empathy and forgiveness are essential, but it can be difficult to access your unconscious and imaginative world. This placement may indicate difficulty remembering dreams or experiencing insomnia. 

Individuals with Saturn in their twelfth house may be withdrawn, withhold from themselves, and have a serious approach to spiritual life. They may struggle with personal freedom and may need to learn how to structure their time and create support systems. Saturn in the twelfth house can lead to self-imposed limitations, but it is essential to master your fears and expand in a confined space. This placement may also indicate missing a father figure and difficulty with vulnerability. 

People with Saturn in their twelfth house benefit from spending time alone and may work in isolated settings, such as hospitals, prisons, or as researchers. Volunteering and charitable work can be fulfilling, as the Twelfth House is about selfless service. Additionally, Saturn in the twelfth house may indicate the need to travel to distant countries for work.

If Saturn is in the twelfth house, it shows that you struggle with letting go of things. You tend to hold onto things and often berate yourself for things that happened a long time ago that you cannot change. You don't like feeling overwhelmed by emotions, so you tend to repress them. Sometimes, you may not even be aware of what you are feeling. You push your emotions away rather than allowing them to go away on their own. This can lead to hidden pain that you are not aware of, causing you to suffer greatly. You may feel depressed all the time, and Saturn's influence can manifest as frequent melancholy. You may also experience panic attacks or anxiety. If you have planets in the twelfth house, psychotherapy can be very helpful. You may not be interested in spiritual beliefs and prefer to focus on the realities of life. This can lead to an interest in dark, tedious, or secret works. You may be an introverted person who gives up your social life for spirituality. Over time, you may become more open to spirituality after your Saturn return.

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Byee Bissshhh

[v1sexual]

always forever ; vi (arcane) part one

a collection of (modern) domestic life activities with vi ! college au , modern au , self indulgent

part one , part two , part three, part four soon !

drabble one: historians will call them flatmates , drabble two (soon)

ꕀ you and flatmate vi actually got off on the wrong foot when you first met.

it was the night you moved in. after a long day of moving, carrying heavy suitcases around, building furnitures, and organizing your room, you’re more than ready to get some good night sleep.

after taking a quick shower, you put on an oversized band tee paired with black boxer shorts (that are new and never been worn) you stole from your brother. just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard the front door slam open. the sound of faint giggles filled the hallway to which you paid no mind to, assuming that it was one of your flatmates.

you’ve dozed off for a couple of minutes until you were woken up by a faint thumping on your wall. you sighed and placed a blanket over your head. just as you closed your eyes, you heard a loud moan. “what the actual fuck?” you hissed. more moans came from the room next to yours, followed by the faint sound of thumping. pissed off, you slammed your hand on the wall. “keep it down! some people are trying to sleep here!”

the moaning and thumping immediately stopped, you could hear two hushed female voices talk. “sorry!” a deep feminine voice called out. shrugging, you placed your earbuds on and blasted one of your bedtime playlists.

you fell asleep for what feels like a couple of hours when more thumping and louder moans came from your flatmate’s room. “how the hell are they still at it, jesus.” you muttered under your breath. sighing, you grabbed a pillow and a blanket then proceeded to make your way outside. you didn’t want to interrupt whatever the hell your flatmate and their guest are doing, so you decided to just spend the rest of the night in your car. besides, it’s already 6 in the morning. you didn’t have any classes yet, but you did want to drive around the neighbourhood and check out some of the cafes.

a faint thumping from your car window woke up you up. a girl, roughly your age, with pink hair waved at you. she wore a white wife beater and plaid boxers, you took note of the hickeys on her neck and chest. you narrowed your eyes at her, ‘the culprit’ you thought. she gave you a guilty smile and motioned for you to roll your windows down.

“you must be my new flatmate,” she said sleepily. “the name’s vi.” she held her hand out.

“charmed,” you muttered sarcastically while shaking her hand. “i’m (name).”

vi apologized profusely, to which you replied with a sigh and waved it off. after that very awkward encounter you avoided vi like the plague, and every time she had a girl over you would sleep over at your friend, ekko’s, place.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who you got to know better when the power went out because of a citywide blackout. you learned that vi was a second year engineering major, she’s part of the university’s rugby and hockey team, and that she’s the oldest of four siblings.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! whose outfit consisted of a black wife beater, a couple oversized shirts, jerseys, sweats, plaid boxers & pjs, and her two sneakers. no matter what though she will always opt to wear her wife beaters, no bra btw (the faint outline of her nipple piercings visible), and her plaid boxers.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who would sneak glances at you whenever you wore those tiny little biker shorts, appreciating the way your ass looks in the snug material. she’d also purposely place essential kitchenware on the top shelf, appreciating the way your oversized band tee would slip up to reveal your ass.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who you noticed, stopped bringing nighttime guests over after a month you two became friends. you paid no mind to it, keeping your nose out of her business. you assumed it was out of respect, and that she didn’t want you sleeping in your car again. but one thing’s for sure though, the fact that vi stopped bringing home guests made you feel a whole lot better. and not just because you get a good night’s sleep. but also because you may or may not feel a small pang of jealousy whenever she did bring someone home.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who fell silent when you excitedly told her that someone asked you out, and the fact that it was a guy made her mentally bang her head in a wall. she’s not one to assume a person’s sexuality, but you going out with a guy made her little lesbian heart deflate a bit. you never did open up about your dating preferences, and it’s not like she asked you either.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who was overjoyed when you came home after you date, ranting to her how goddamn awful it was. if vi had a tail, it would 100% be wagging when you told her (and i quote;) “… this is why i prefer women, women would never!”

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who made subtle moves on you after that night. can’t reach something from the top shelf? next thing you know, she’s behind you. her chest pressed against you back as she grabbed whatever you needed. you could feel the faint outline of her nipple piercing, making your brain short circuit. had a rough day? vi’s got you covered. she’ll have your favorite movie/show on the tv for you, she’ll bring out the electronic heating blanket out, and she’ll have your favorite takeout on the table for you. period cramps? you sure as hell know she’ll grab you some pain killers and a warm compress. out of pads/tampons? vi will literally venture out at night to get you some.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who may or may not have milked that one time she had a bad cold. you practically slept in her room. you’d keep watch on her temperature, remind her when to take her meds, place a cold cloth on her forehead when she gets too warm, and evens helped her get into her shower.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who invited you to one of her hockey games during winter break. as much as you wanted to go, you needed to go home during winter break for your mom’s birthday. which vi understood of course, since she as well would never miss the chance to go home when when it’s the birthday of one of her siblings or her adoptive father.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who felt that the flat became eerily quiet when you left for winter break. you’ve only been gone for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. she missed your cooking, your nagging (whenever she left her dirty dishes in the sink), your late night laundry runs, the three a.m 7-11 trips. vi wanted to text you so bad, but she didn’t. she didn’t know what say, plus she assumed that your busy spending time with your family. you on the other hand, were 100% always checking your phone. every notification made you buzz with excitement, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t her.

ꕀ flatmate vi ! who was down in the dumps during the day of her game, the game she invited you too. little did she know, you left home a couple of days earlier than planned so you could watch her game. you contacted ekko who’s dating vi’s younger sister, powder, for a favour to save you a seat in exchange of bringing him some of your mom’s famous mango float (that you had to beg for her to make, but the moment you mentioned ekko she caved immediately. she loved your childhood friend, probably more than she loves you but oh well)

ꕀ flatmate vi ! who stared at the empty seat next to ekko and powder. she sighed, shaking her head. she knew that if you would have attended her game if you could. plus she could always invite you to her other ones. vi decided to look on the bright side, deciding that she would text you after the game. you arrived a couple minutes late to vi’s game. you squeezed past the tight walkway, texting ekko to ask where they were. ekko waved at you, he and powder were seated at the very front, the first row of seats right in front of the plexiglass preventing any pucks from flying outside the rink.

ꕀ flatmate vi ! who almost tripped on her own skates when she spotted you sitting next to her sister. you were wearing one of her spare jerseys (you 100% stole it from her clean laundry pile), her number painted on your cheek, and a huge smile plastered on your lips as your eyes met. vi gave you a wink and proceeded to show off for the next hour or so.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who absolutely crushed the game. their team won 4-1, you were here, what else could she ask for. after a quick shower, she met you, ekko, and powder outside the locker room entrance.

you and powder bonded over how amazing the game was, while ekko listened to the both of you. when vi slipped out of the shower room, pink hair still damp, and a towel over her shoulders, you immediately ran towards her. she greeted you with a hug, her chin resting on top of your head. ekko and powder raised an eyebrow at each other, which vi ignored. she instead, shifted her focus on you.

“i thought you wouldn’t be able to make it?” she exclaimed when you broke the hug. you shrugged, smiling at her cheekily. “decided to come back early, i got bored at home.”

vi smiled. “what about your mom’s birthday?” you waved your hand and linked arms with her. “her birthday was two days ago, she practically jumped with joy when i said i was leaving early.”

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who was relieved when ekko and powder finally went home. as much as she loved their company, she just really wanted to be alone with you right now. as soon as you both got home, vi puts on a movie as you guys sat on the couch. you were on the opposite side of the couch, your legs propped on her lap, a nice soft blanket over the two of you.

“i almost forgot!” you exclaimed, shooting up from the couch and darted off to your room. when you came back, you had a small pink box in your hands. vi raised an eyebrow as you sat next to her, a grin etched on your lips.

you excitedly handed vi the box, and gestured for her to open it. a small gasp leaves vi. inside the box was a ring, it was a gold band with a small stone in the middle. the girl practically teared up, she puts the ring on her finger. it was a bit big for her ring finger but it did fit perfectly on her thumb. she could also always put it on the plain gold chain she always wore.

“sooo,” you started. “do you like it?” vi nodded happily, pulling you in for a hug. you sighed contently your chin resting on her shoulder as you wrap your arms around her waist.

“i’m sorry i didn’t get you anything shortcake,” vi whispered, her lips touched the shell of your ear. “don’t worry about, consider it a congratulatory gift and a christmas gift.” you squeaked, a faint blush washing over your cheeks. “plus, i thrifted it. my sister and i went thrifting, and the pink gem reminded me of your hair.”

ꕀ flat mate vi ! might as well have melted on the spot. she broke the hug and held your cheeks in her hands. she tilted your head up, making you look at her.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who couldn’t resist but press a short kiss on your lips.

you gasped, feeling her soft chapped lips press against yours. the kiss ended as quickly as soon at it happened. vi opened her mouth to say something, you cut her off by gripping the. front of her hoodie. pulling her towards you, your lips landed on hers. vi’s eyes fluttered shut and so did yours, the movie you put on merely became a background noise as your lips danced against hers.

“i’ve waited so long to do that,” vi whispered. she rested her forehead against yours, your hot breath fanning over her lips. “took you long enough.”. you whispered back before pulling her in another kiss.

safe to say that by then the movie was long forgotten.

[goldfades]

ROOKIE ─── PAIGE BUECKERS

request: "paige's gf and she insists on teaching her basketball—even though she's terrible at it. paige spends half the time “coaching” her (aka being flirty) and the other half laughing when she completely miss the basket"

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here—standing under the hoop on a Saturday afternoon, gripping a basketball like it’s some foreign object you’ve never encountered before.

In your defense, sports have never been your thing. You’re more of a cheer-from-the-bleachers, snack-at-halftime, maybe-ask-what-a-three-pointer-is-later kind of person. And yet, here you are, because your girlfriend, Paige—decided today was the day you’d “learn the fundamentals.”

“Okay, baby, it’s easy,” she says, her voice brimming with the sort of confidence only someone who’s mastered the art of the crossover can pull off. She spins a ball on her finger effortlessly, her grin teasing but somehow still the softest thing you’ve ever seen. “All you gotta do is aim and shoot. No pressure.”

You squint up at the basket. It feels like it’s a mile away. “No pressure?” you deadpan, bouncing the ball once and grimacing when it doesn’t exactly obey. “Do you even know me?”

Paige snickers, sidling closer until she’s standing next to you, her hand on your hip. She’s wearing her usual practice gear: baggy shorts, sneakers laced tight, and a loose shirt that somehow still manages to hint at the muscle underneath. It’s honestly unfair how good she looks while being this annoying.

“Listen,” she says, her tone shifting into something that almost passes for serious. Almost. “I know you. I also know you’re fully capable of putting this ball in that hoop if you just focus and stop looking at me like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You glance at her, and she’s smirking now, like she knows she’s caught you. Which, to be fair, she has. “First of all,” you mutter, turning back to the basket, “I do want to be here. Second, you’re distracting.”

“Am I?” Her voice is teasing, but you don’t dare look again. You already know she’s doing that thing where she cocks her head just a little and raises her eyebrows like she’s so impressed with herself. “Want me to step back so you can concentrate, rookie?”

“No,” you reply, huffing. “But if you call me rookie one more time, I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna what?” Paige interrupts, leaning down just enough so her lips are by your ear. Her voice drops an octave, and you swear you can feel her grin against your skin. “Miss the basket again?”

You groan, shoving her lightly with your elbow, but the weight of her hand on your hip doesn’t budge. She’s laughing now, full and bright and utterly unapologetic, and despite your best efforts to stay annoyed, you can’t help but crack a smile.

This is going to be a disaster. You can feel it.

You take a step back, spinning the ball once between your hands, trying to look like you’ve got some semblance of control. You absolutely do not. It’s slippery and awkward, and you’re already regretting agreeing to this. Paige watches you with the intensity of a coach but the playfulness of a girlfriend who knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Alright, babe, let’s see what you’ve got,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back on her heels, all casual and amused. She looks entirely too comfortable with the idea of watching you embarrass yourself.

You square your shoulders and look up at the hoop again, trying to remember the quick, nonsensical explanation Paige gave you about form and aim. Something about “elbows in,” “flicking your wrist,” and “imagining you’re putting cookies in the oven.” Honestly, she lost you after “elbows.”

Paige steps closer, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the court. “Okay, pause,” she says, gently placing her hands on your shoulders to adjust your stance. Her touch lingers a little too long to be entirely innocent, and you glance at her, catching the faintest flicker of her teasing grin. “You’re holding the ball like it’s gonna explode. Relax.”

You loosen your grip, if only slightly, and she takes a step back, nodding approvingly. “Much better. Now, bend your knees. Remember, this isn’t a free throw contest, it’s a rhythm thing. Like dancing.”

“Dancing?” You give her a skeptical look. “You’ve seen me dance. That’s not helping your case.”

“True,” she says, laughing. “But at least you don’t step on anyone’s toes here.” Her hand brushes your lower back, the contact brief but enough to send a little jolt through you. She always does this—throws you off-kilter just enough to make you forget what you were supposed to be doing.

You shake your head, focusing on the hoop again. “Alright, alright. I’m doing it.”

“You’re doing it,” Paige echoes, stepping back into your peripheral vision, her hands on her hips like she’s supervising. “Visualize it going in. Manifest it.”

“Manifest it?” you deadpan. “Are you a basketball player or a yoga instructor?”

“Both, apparently,” she shoots back, laughing again. “Come on, just throw it already.”

You take a deep breath, bend your knees, and, in one fluid (well, semi-fluid) motion, you shoot. The ball arcs through the air in what you think is a promising trajectory… only to miss the basket entirely and bounce harmlessly off the backboard. It rolls lazily away, as if to add insult to injury.

Paige absolutely loses it. She doubles over, clutching her stomach as laughter spills out of her. It’s loud and unrestrained, the kind of laugh that’s so contagious you almost forget why she’s laughing in the first place. Almost.

“Don’t laugh,” you say, but your own voice wobbles with the threat of a giggle. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige straightens up, wiping at the corner of her eye dramatically. “Babe, you hit the backboard so hard I think it just filed for workers’ comp.”

“Wow, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes but failing to hide your grin. “This is why I don’t play sports.”

“Oh, come on.” Paige retrieves the ball with a few quick strides, tossing it effortlessly between her hands as she makes her way back to you. She stops just in front of you, holding the ball out. “You’re doing fine. You just need more practice.”

“And by practice, you mean you laughing at me until I cry?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” she says with a grin that’s entirely too charming to argue with. “Now, let’s try again. But this time…” She steps behind you, wrapping her arms around you and placing her hands over yours on the ball. “I’m gonna guide you.”

Your breath catches slightly as she leans in, her voice soft and close to your ear. “Okay, elbows in. Knees bent. Don’t think too hard about it. Just feel it.”

It’s a miracle you’re even upright at this point, let alone holding the ball. Her voice is low and encouraging, her arms warm and steady around you, and suddenly, basketball doesn’t seem so terrible.

“Now,” she murmurs, her hands shifting just enough to nudge yours into position. “Shoot.”

You do, and this time, the ball actually arcs in a somewhat respectable manner. It hits the rim and bounces off, but it’s a lot closer than before.

“Progress!” Paige announces, stepping back with a proud smile. “You’re getting there, rookie.”

You groan. “Stop calling me rookie!”

“Never.” She’s already picking up the ball again, twirling it on her finger like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “One more time. Let’s see if we can actually make one.”

“Fine,” you say, holding out your hands. “But if I make this shot, you owe me something.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise, her smile turning playful. “Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you say, taking the ball and narrowing your eyes at the hoop. “But I’m thinking something big.”

Paige laughs, leaning against the pole of the hoop, her gaze fixed on you. “Deal. But if you miss… I get to call you rookie forever.”

You shake your head, fighting back a smile. “No pressure, right?”

“Exactly,” she says, her grin widening. “No pressure at all.”

You focus on the hoop again, blocking out everything except the promise of finally making this shot—and maybe wiping that smug grin off Paige’s face. With newfound determination, you bend your knees, grip the ball like you actually know what you’re doing, and take the shot.

Time slows down for a second. The ball soars in a near-perfect arc, hits the rim… and bounces around it once, twice, before dropping cleanly through the net with a satisfying swish.

For a moment, you just stand there, stunned. Then it clicks: you made it. You actually made it.

“Oh my god!” you squeal, throwing your hands up in triumph. “Did you see that? I made it! I actually made it!”

Before Paige can even respond, you’re hopping around the court like you just won a championship game. Your excitement is entirely disproportionate to what just happened, but you don’t care. You’re too busy celebrating your hard-won victory, flailing your arms and spinning in a little circle.

Paige leans against the hoop, watching you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. “You’d think you just scored the game-winner at Madison Square Garden,” she teases, but the softness in her voice gives her away.

“This is my moment, Paige!” you shoot back, still grinning like a fool. You stop hopping just long enough to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “I made it! I’m a basketball prodigy now. Bow down!”

She laughs, her hands coming up to rest on your waist. “Alright, Michael Jordan, calm down.”

You narrow your eyes at her, playful and determined. “No, you don’t get to laugh. I deserve a reward for this. A big reward.”

Paige arches a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, do you now? What kind of reward are we talking about?” Her voice dips into that suggestive tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

You tap your chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… how about… lunch? I’m starving. And since I’m the champion now, you get to go buy it for me.”

Paige blinks, her smirk faltering. “Lunch?”

“Yup,” you say cheerfully, stepping back and crossing your arms. “From that cute little sandwich place I like. You can’t say no. I earned this.”

Paige stares at you, her expression torn between disbelief and fake betrayal. “You just made the shot of your life, and this is what you ask for? A sandwich?”

“What did you think I was going to ask for?” you counter, cocking your head.

She shrugs, her tone casual but her grin anything but. “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss. Or maybe some leg-shaking, world shattering head.”

“Paige!” You shout at her language, rolling your eyes, though your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. “I just exerted all my physical and emotional energy making that shot. I need food first. Priorities.”

She groans, dragging a hand down her face in mock despair. “You’re killing me here. Fine. But only because I’m impressed you actually made it.”

“Damn right you’re impressed,” you say, puffing out your chest dramatically. “Now go. And don’t forget the extra pickles!”

Paige shakes her head, laughing as she jogs off toward the parking lot. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You owe me, rookie!”

“Never!” you call after her, grinning as you watch her go.

You sink onto the court, still buzzing with excitement. Sure, basketball might not be your thing, but moments like this? With her? You could get used to them.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[talekinesis]

I need Stan and Ford to see their mom again

Like let's say she's still alive and in her 80s, she's in a wheelchair (ambulatory, she has customized canes) she still lives in their old home because a part of her hoped Stanford would come back, and she didn't want to leave their home, so he'd know where to go back to.

She wanted to stay put in case Ford came back.

So imagine her shock when both her boys come back home to her

Obviously Stan immediately starts apologizing for faking his death, putting her through grief, her arranging and attending his funeral, but she stops him like "I'd much rather it be fake than real." That's her baby boy, back from the dead, something most people don't get, so to her it's a miracle.

Her Jersey accent is thick, and it actually brings out the twins' accents that had faded over time (Stan's sounds natural to him since he always retained it a little, but everyone finds it funny when Ford's accent comes back because he just doesn't seem like the type to speak like that)

THEY MOVE HER INTO THE SHACK

The boys wanna take care of their mama and keep her around since it's been so long, and Caryn is delighted to be moved out of a loud city with rough memories and into a quiet little town where the people are odd but nice. Ford and Stan both work together to make the Shack accessible for her. Ford actually sat in her wheelchair to test everything and make sure she could get around on her own.

They catch her up on everything, and at first they don't think she'll fully believe them but she's like "Stanford built an international portal and got lost for 30 years? Stanley took his place and turned his home into tourist trap? Yeah, that seems like something my boys would do."

When she learns Stan taught himself engineering to re-build the portal, she's obviously very proud of him. "You were never dumb, Stanley, ya just learned different. Honestly, I always thought ya had A-D-H-D but Pa never wanted ya tested. But look how smart and creative ya turned out, son! I think ya did good." And Stan is definitely not crying.

Personal headcanon: Caryn was also really smart and picked up on things quick. The boys had to have gotten it from somewhere, and it wasn't Filbrick. He just took the credit because 1) he was the worst, and 2) times were different back then and no one would have really taken her seriously. But she's the one who would fix things around the house since she taught herself how to keep the place together and running since Filbrick wouldn't pay anyone to come and repair anything.

Imagine little Stan standing behind her with a flashlight while she fixes the wiring in the wall because an outlet stopped working. Both of the boys helping her while she fixes the car for the third time that week because it keeps breaking down. Mama Pines taught herself how to keep things up and running because no one else would or could.

Caryn meets Mabel and Dipper when they come back in the summer, and Mabel is THRILLED

She's technically met them before but they were still newborns at the time so they don't remember her, and she hadn't gotten a chance to see who they'd become

Mabel makes her a sweater and she wears it with pride. And I really think it would go like that scene from Elemental

Caryn: You made this?

Mabel: Oh, yeah, it's nothing-

Caryn: Nothin? Babygirl, my designer dresses were made by 'nothin.' Oh sweetie, you have got to do somethin' with this skill. And to think, I have an original 'Mabel Pines.'

And don't think I'm leaving Dipper out of this, he gets his great-grandma's attention too. She loves talking to him and listening to him tell stories about the monsters they've encountered in the past. She sees a lot of Ford in him, but she also sees a lot of Stan in him in other ways.

I think Dipper's love for "girly" music is something Stan used to share before Filbrick "disciplined" him for it. Child Stan used to sit in the kitchen with his Ma and sing along to the radio, usually listening to whatever she had put on.

Now all three of them sit in the kitchen and listen to the radio while Stan cooks.

Ford feeling like a failure for putting everyone in danger, and Caryn just goes, "Come talk to your mama." And he does. He goes and talks to his mama, like he always has in the past. She's in her 80s and they're grown men in their late 50s, but she's still their mom, and you never really quit being a mom.

I might actually write a short fic about this, I love it so much.

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections

Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr x Reader

the gender of the reader is not specified // based on X-Men Days Of Future Past, but the scenarios are made up

Summary: You are blind, and you control the earth (you also listen to the plants) you are like a mutant version of Toph Beifong basically. Also you and Charles bullying at Erik for not noticing the obvious.

maybe part 2 in the future? let me know if there are any mistakes because English is not my first language.

Charles "I'm not good with violence" Xavier

"‘Can I know where we are going?’ Charles asks, irritated by the mystery Logan is adding to the situation.

‘You'll see,’ the man replies with a half-amused smile.

In the future, you were a legend, a myth. The original X-Men never stopped talking about you when Logan arrived at the mansion, and over time, their respect for you and your amazing deeds only grew. Something Logan struggled to learn about you was that you had a romantic relationship with both Charles and Erik. He didn’t understand it until Ororo explained that it was a polyamorous relationship, which helped him understand much more about the Professor and his nemesis.

In the horrible future from which they sent him, Erik and Charles ordered him to force a reunion between the two of them and your first meeting with them.

Part of him found the situation amusing, feeling like Cupid but with bone claws instead of a bow and arrows. Another part of him hoped that this forced encounter wouldn’t jeopardize the relationship destined to be in the future.

Once they arrived at what was supposed to be your home, Peter was the first to get out of the car, followed by Hank, Charles, and Logan.

They were in a place slightly secluded from the city, full of forests, dirt, plants, and flowers. There was only one house in sight, well-maintained and decorated on the outside; Charles gave you credit for that.

They walked up the short driveway, and Logan didn’t even need to knock for the door to open by itself. Logan smiled amusedly while the other three men glanced at each other in confusion.

‘Excuse me,’ Logan murmured, entering the house, closely followed by the others.

The house was cozy and minimalist, with the few pieces of furniture placed against the walls, giving the appearance of more space than there actually was. They entered what seemed to be the kitchen, where there you were.

You had your back to them as you did something on the kitchen counter. Judging by the sound, you were preparing coffee.

‘Coffee or tea?’ you asked disinterestedly, creating another round of confused glances.

‘Coffee,’ Peter answered with a smile. Logan sat down at the table on the side of the kitchen, which had three chairs.

‘I suppose the furry guy and the one who's supposed to have paralyzed legs are more into tea,’ you commented as you set the water to boil. You pointed to the fridge next to you. ‘There's beer in the fridge.’

Logan raised his eyebrows at the two completely confused men in the kitchen doorway as he went for the said beer, while Peter took a seat.

Hank and Charles didn’t understand anything. Were you a telepath? Hank was in his human form, and Charles was full of the serum to be able to walk, so… how?

Logan returned to his seat, and that’s when you finally turned around, leaving them all (except for Wolverine) surprised.

Although you usually wore sunglasses, you had taken them off when your plants alerted you that someone from the future was coming to see you. Your eyes were white, lost.

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned your back against the counter. ‘I suppose they want you to help them get Magneto out of the Pentagon.’

‘She’s good,’ Peter murmured in amusement.

‘Are you a telepath?’ Charles finally asked, crossing his arms.

‘No,’ you smiled at him.

‘Then?’ Hank asked this time, while Logan just watched the interaction like it was a soap opera, sipping his beer.

‘I control anything to do with the earth, I understand plants, and I see through the roots of trees, although I can also sense all your movements through the ground we’re standing on,’ you explained, serving the tea and coffee.

You heard Peter whisper ‘cool’ as you handed out the cups.

‘Your plants told you,’ the professor concluded, taking a sip of tea, which happened to be his favorite flavor. You nodded.

‘People have told me you have good reflexes; is that true?’ Wolverine’s question made you smile slyly.

‘Of course it is.’

‘Then catch this,’ he challenged, tossing the empty beer bottle at you.

Hank and Charles looked horrified as he threw the bottle, while Peter was ready to intervene if necessary.

Through your bare feet, you could feel how almost everyone’s heart skipped a beat, but you caught the bottle in mid-air as if it was nothing. The collective sigh of relief that followed made you laugh.

‘So, are we going or what?’

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

After successfully getting Magneto out of prison, you had to sit with Charles and Erik on the plane, according to Logan’s poor excuse, ‘So they don’t kill each other.’

After a tense conversation between the two, during which you just sat in silence, Erik spoke up.

‘Why are you barefoot?’

‘So I can see you'

Erik frowned in confusion, while Charles barely suppressed an amused smile. Erik still hadn’t realized that you were blind, since you were wearing sunglasses, and you hadn’t given any indication that you were. Of course, Erik found it odd that you were always looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone, but he assumed you might be shy.

‘Am I missing an inside joke?’ Erik asked again, noticing his old friend’s poorly concealed smile.

‘No, nothing, don’t think too much about it,’ Charles replied, trying to hold back a laugh but failing, causing you to smile in amusement.

Magneto frowned in confusion, feeling like he was missing something, and he had to admit it made him a bit jealous. He finally reunites with Charles, the man he loves, and Charles has inside jokes with someone he’s never seen before and, as far as he knows, only met today.

‘Explain to me, what’s so funny?’ he asked, hiding his growing irritation, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the two of you, who were still stifling your laughter. Erik couldn’t help but notice that you were still looking straight ahead. ‘Is it something related to her mutation? I thought Y/N only controlled the earth and talked to plants?

‘You can do a lot with the earth, isn’t that right, Charles?’ you replied with amusement. The man in the wheelchair, who miraculously walks, rested his head on his hand, trying to hide his smile as he nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said.

Erik felt his irritation growing, along with his heart racing at the melodic sound of your shared, complicit laughter.

The gears in Magneto’s mind started to turn as he realized.

You were wearing sunglasses that you hadn’t taken off, even on the plane, always looking straight ahead, not having looked at either him or Charles this whole time, and you said you were barefoot so you could see him.

‘You’re blind,’ he concluded, rubbing his forehead in a mix of irritation and embarrassment, earning loud laughs from both of you that attracted curious and annoyed looks from Hank and Logan.

‘Took you long enough,’ you said, patting him on the shoulder in consolation.

‘Something I don’t understand is, how do you “see” through your feet now if we’re on a plane?’ Charles asked once his laughter had calmed down.

‘The earth has metal particles, and metal has earth particles, I suppose,’ you answered.

‘Does that mean you can control metal?’ Erik now asked with curiosity.

‘Sometimes, although it’s not easy at all, it requires a lot of effort,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Interesting,’ they said in unison, glancing at each other and smiling as if they were thinking the same thing.

‘I sense tension… are you two going to kiss?’ you joked.

The two men rolled their eyes and smiled at each other, definitely thinking the same thing, while you felt confused because they didn’t give you any response."

Pt.2

[reiderwriter]

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+

Word count:..... 12k...

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.

Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.

A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:

Monday

The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.

You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.

“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.

Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.

You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.

“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.

“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.

“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.

On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.

One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.

“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.

“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.

“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”

“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.

“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.

“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”

“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.

“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.

You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.

“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.

“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”

It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.

“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.

You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.

When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.

“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.

“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.

“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.

You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.

He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.

Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.

“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.

“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”

“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.

“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.

“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.

“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.

“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.

“Yes.” He said. And that was that.

Tuesday

To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.

As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.

Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.

“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”

“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.

“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.

“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”

“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.

“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.

“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.

“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.

“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.

It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.

In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.

“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,

“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.

The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.

“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”

“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.

“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.

“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.

“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.

“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”

“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”

“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.

“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.

“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.

“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.

“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.

“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.

“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.

“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.

“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.

“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.

“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.

You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.

“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.

“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.

Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.

Wednesday

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.

“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.

“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.

“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.

He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.

“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.

“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”

“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”

“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.

“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.

“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.

“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”

He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.

“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”

“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”

The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.

“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.

“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”

“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.

“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.

“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.

“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now

“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.

“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.

“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.

“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.

“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.

“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.

You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.

When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.

You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.

You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.

“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.

You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.

“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.

“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.

“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.

He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.

Thursday

Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.

Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.

Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.

“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.

“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.

“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.

“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.

“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.

“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.

“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.

“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.

“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.

“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.

“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.

“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.

“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.

“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.

“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.

After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.

You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.

“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.

“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.

Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.

Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.

But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.

“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.

“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.

“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.

“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.

You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.

“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.

When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.

Friday

It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.

You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.

“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.

“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.

“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.

“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.

“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.

“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.

Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.

“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.

“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.

“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.

“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”

“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.

“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.

Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.

“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.

“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.

“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.

“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.

“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.

“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.

“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.

“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.

“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.

“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.

“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.

“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.

You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.

“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.

He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.

“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.

The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.

“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.

You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.

“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.

“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.

“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

Saturday

When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.

You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.

What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.

You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?

You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.

“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.

“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.

“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.

“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.

“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.

“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.

“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.

“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”

“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.

“I promise, now spill.”

“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.

“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.

“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.

“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.

“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”

“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.

“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.

“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.

The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.

These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.

“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.

“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.

The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.

With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.

“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.

“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.

“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.

“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.

You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.

“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.

Sunday

After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.

“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.

“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.

“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.

“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.

“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”

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[cy-cyborg]

Tips for writing and drawing Wheelchair using characters: Your character's wheelchair can tell us a lot about them

When you first start learning character design, you'll often be told something to the effect of "use your character's outfit to tell us more about them" - and this same principles can be applied to a disabled character's mobility aids.

Mobility aids like wheelchairs, to many disabled people, are a part of us. They can be an extension to a person's body and chances are, if you're going to be using this piece of equipment every day for the foreseeable future (or at least for a good amount of time for the foreseeable future), it's going to start reflecting some aspects of your personality, your interests, your passions, especially when you remember, a lot of people get their wheelchairs custom built for them.

You can use your character's wheelchair to tell us a lot about them without ever needing to show/describe them directly.

Let me show you two examples:

Take a look at these two wheelchairs. they're similar in shape and build, but still pretty different to each other. Can you make some guesses about their users based only on what's shown here?

intended answers below:

Please note, the following points are all generalisations and the real world is rarely this simple. This is to demonstrate how to use disability aids to contribute to your character's design, not how to make assumptions about real people in real life.

So here are some similarities between the chairs:

Both wheelchairs have ridged frames, this means the wheelchair can't be folded in any way. These kinds of chairs can imply a few different things depending on the person. They are typically lighter, sturdier and more durable, and indicate the person probably will be using the wheelchair for a long time and/or has the money to get something built to last (or lives in a place where cost not an issue due to universal/subsidised access to healthcare). They are also typically better to travel with when flying, as they are less likely to be broken by airport security/staff.

Both wheelchairs also lack anti-tip wheels, which are a third set of wheels that extend from the back of the chair. Them not being present could indicate the person is likely pretty confident in their ability to use the chair without worrying about tipping out. It could also indicate they are in an environment where the anti-tips could be more of a hazard than a help, such as on rough terrain.

So lets look at some specifics for the green wheelchair:

Take a look at the wheels. The front wheels are pretty small and appear to be solid, while the back wheels appear to be quite narrow (compared to the orange chair anyway). This indicates the user likely lives somewhere with decent accessibility like a (well funded) city where they are unlikely to encounter unpaved/dirt roads/grass. Small front wheels and thin back wheels are good for manoeuvrability and a smooth ride over even terrain, but they will get stuck as soon as bumps appear, so this probably isn't an issue for this person.

While its a bit hard to tell unless you have seen other similar wheelchairs, this wheelchair is very long in the front, meaning the footplate and front wheels are further away from the seat than most. There could be a few reasons for this. One either indicates the person has very long legs, or a lack of motion in their knees, making it harder to bend their legs. This is moves the chair's centre of gravity forward by a decent amount, making it harder to tip back, which could indicate the person's legs are very light. You tend to see this most often in the wheelchairs of bilateral leg amputees, who are at a greater risk of tipping backwards due to a lack of weight at the front of the chair (even if they wear their prosthetics).

The colour of the chair is bright. This could simply be the character's favourite colour, or maybe this colour has some significance to them?

There are stickers on the side of the chair relating to the Paralympics. This could indicate the person is a fan, or perhaps had some involvement in the games?

The wheelchair has handles on the back, but they are able to be folded down. This is a popular feature for people who are independent enough to go out on their own, but still want to have the option for some help. folding down the handles also deters random strangers from grabbing at you (an unfortunately common experience for wheelchair users).

There is some mild paint scratching to the front of the wheelchair, but nothing too noticable. This is typical of older chairs and people who are a little rough on their chairs. Maybe they've had a few stacks and falls throughout the years, probably going a decent speed.

Ok, now let's look at the orange chair

This wheelchair has very large, inflatable front wheels, and very thick back wheels. This will make the chair slower and less manoeuvrable on flat/even surfaces, but much, much easier to push on rough terrain. This is supported by the amount of mud on the wheelchair.

The seat on this wheelchair tilts upwards slightly. This is called a bucket (or according to an old basketball teammate of mine, a dump-truck lol). This is a feature you typically see in wheelchairs made for people with spinal injuries who are unable to move their legs and engage their lower bodies or core to help keep them stable.

The back of this chair is very low, indicating that if this wheelchair user has a spinal injury, it's probably pretty low on their spine, likely fairly close to the hips, making the person a low-level paraplegic. Higher-level paraplegics and quadriplegics usually need a higher back to help support them and keep them from flopping over, since all the muscles below their place where their spine broke either doesn't work, or is significantly weaker. Higher backs though can get in the way of pushing and reduce mobility, so people who need less support will likely opt for a lower back rest.

This wheelchair has no handles, which indicates the user is probably very independent and doesn't need a lot of help getting around.

The paint on this wheelchair is very scratched up, showing the person is very tough on their wheelchair and doesn't care to get the paint touched up.

This wheelchair has no breaks. This is very common on chairs with larger tiers as they don't tend to be as effective, but also on many outdoor wheelchairs, for two reasons. One is because they are made for rough terrain, so chances are, you aren't going to go far without a big push to get you moving. The second reason is that to get over large bumps and obsticals in a wheelchair, it can be helpful to do very large pushes using the top and front of the wheel. When pushing a normal chair, most people will only use the top section of the wheel to push since it's closest, but these big pushes that use the front of the wheel make it easier to push, since you can benefit from downwards momentum. However, this is also where the breaks are located on most wheelchairs, which can create a hazard. I've lost entire fingernails by them getting snagged on the breaks when pushing this way. So if you live somewhere where the breaks are not going to be helpful to you often, it makes sense to not get them.

And here are the characters who own these wheelchairs

The owner of the green wheelchair is an amalgamation of a few people I knew from when I played wheelchair basketball. They're a bilateral leg amputee, and judging by their outfit (The Official National Wheelchair Basketball uniform for Australia), they're an elite athlete. This wheelchair is not the one they play sport in, but it still needs to be durable enough to withstand the rough treatment of airport staff when traveling, as well as heavy day-to-day use that comes with being an active person. While it needs to be rough, the person also seemed to want to prioritise speed and manoeuvrability, and likely doesn't need to worry about rough terrain too much, so they probably live in a major city.

The owner of the orange chair was inspired by a family friend of mine. They live on a farm, and need a chair that can handle life in those conditions, rough terrain and all. This comes at the cost of speed and manoeuvrability on smoother terrain, but honestly, anyone who's lived in the country knows you won't find many of those around there anyway, so that's not too big of a sacrifice. They are paraplegic, are very confident in their ability to use their wheelchair, and probably doesn't need help too often, but still benefit from some extra stability support from the raised seat on their chair.

Conclusion

Once again, these are generalisations, and in real life there are always exceptions, but I hope this helped demonstrate what I meant when I said you can use your character's wheelchair to tell us more info about them if you're smart about it.

I originally planned to do a whole series of these, showing a wider variety of wheelchairs and the people who they belong to, but I guess I kind of forgot because they've been sitting, abandoned on my hard drive for the last 2 years 😅. If that's something you folks would be interested in seeing though, let me know, I'd happily revive the series lol.

[morverenmaybewrites]

Lessons on Love | Jason Todd x Reader

What lesson about love are they still trying to learn?

Asked by @/citrussaurus

Literally everything. 

I think that Jason’s experiences have shaped him into someone who has quite an unhealthy view on love and relationships: the lack of a positive example of a healthy relationship during his childhood years, the confusing (but not entirely loveless) relationship he had with Bruce Wayne, and eventually his years of rage and isolation as the Arkham Knight. 

By the time post-Arkham Knight rolls around, Jason has a deeply unhealthy view on love and relationships.

And yet, despite this, I feel like he craves this. More than that he’s starved for it. 

I think a part of him hopelessly, desperately wants to be held dear. He wants a place to belong, someone to belong to. 

And it’s his great tragedy that he doesn’t know how to ask for it and more importantly, he doesn’t know how to receive it. Sometimes, Jason loves so quietly that it’s hard to see it as love –because God knows that no one in his life ever taught him to properly communicate. 

I picture the way Jason seeks affection like a starved street dog: there’s a hunger to it, a thirst.

(After all, if you have spent your whole life being starved of something, isn’t it only natural to seek it out, even if it’s just the bare scraps? And here you are, willing to give him your whole heart.)

But there’s also a sort of tension, then animal instinct to flee after being kicked more than several times for it.

I picture him as always perched at the edge of things: waiting, waiting for the inevitable moment where the rug is pulled out from under him, when the affection you had always so freely given will suddenly be withheld, and he will be left starving again, a hole at the center of him that he has no idea how to fill.

(But oh you are worth the fall.)

But I always think of him as physically perched on things, especially on the early days of your relationship: the edge of towering skyscrapers, hovering in your doorway just barely stepping into your threshold until you finally have to ask him to come in, your windowsill, just barely keeping himself out of the rain. He’ll try to act relaxed, but really, he’s tense as a bird about to take flight. Always, always prepared for the moment where he’ll be asked to leave.

(And yet, and yet, all he wants is that you ask him to stay.) 

He doesn’t know how to show you affection, doesn’t know how to ask for it. All he’s ever known is how to make himself useful. 

(After all, useful things don’t get thrown away. Useful things don’t get asked to leave.) 

He’ll keep you safe, which in Gotham City is no small feat, keep the villains away from your door: from the small-time crooks who target regular civilians for just that extra bit of cash to the supervillains whose plans would likely involve you (and the rest of Gotham City) as collateral.

And at first, it’s eerie: the sudden silence in your life, the feeling of peace, of being looked out for. You have never gone so long without encountering some sort of mugger or been involved in a bank robbery.

Then perhaps one day, you’ll get a text from an unknown number, asking you to stay away from Gotham Square that day. When you try to call to get more information, it comes up as Unavailable. And perhaps a week after that, you’ll get a similar text from a different, this time telling you to avoid Bleake Island.

Perhaps you solve it quickly or perhaps, not at all and it takes you a while to put together the pieces: Jason has been keeping you safe. 

And when you decide to talk to him about it, he’s cagey, almost embarrassed. He won’t deny it, but at the same time, when you try to thank him or show you appreciate him, he’ll react with confusion. 

After all, keeping his loved ones safe is second nature to him. In fact, I feel like it’s the one act of love that all of the Bats are comfortable with. 

He’ll do other things for you too. He’ll get up and make dinner after a long day, despite having just come back from a grueling mission, he does the dishes without being asked, hell, he’ll sometimes even throw in a load of laundry for you–taking a an unexpected pleasure from seeing the way your clothes are mixed in with his, the simple solid domesticity of it, at how your lives have become so intermingled that he now has to separate your socks from his. 

In short, he’ll do acts that, while on the outside seem nice, would sometimes border on servile. 

When you try to show him how much you appreciate what he does, he’ll be even more embarrassed: there’s an odd tension around his shoulders, the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

(And oh, Jason hates the way he blushes, knows the way it discolors around the brand on his cheek, the way it doesn’t redden along with the rest of his skin, but instead stands out, ghostly pale.) 

So he’ll shrug it off, barely being able to look at you. Acutely aware of how strange and monstrous he looks.

And even more so, he’s painfully aware of the reason he’s doing these things. Not only because he wants to take care of you (and he does), but because it’s the only way he knows how to be useful, how to be needed. 

How to be asked to stay.   

[calder]

In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.