#god this conversation is exactly what ive been waiting for
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sub popular “straight” yan and nerd dom male reader
That’s it
i love this so much get out of my head ive been fucking thinking about something like this,,,, both amab,,, popular dude is a bit ditzy. so.
sub popular "straight" yan x dom nerd reader.,,, thoughts.,,,, rambles
im thinking of a jock type popular dude. a bit bulky, either ur taller than him or hes taller than you - or same height, imagine what you would like. also thinking its either he knows he likes dudes - you, specifically, or its just him eager to be ur friend and he has no idea why he wants to be around you - or following you around from a distance - or stalking you, or sniffing your gym clothesㅡwondering why its your body that his mind switches to just when he's about to cum - distracting him, and making him edge. damn you?! infiltrating his thoughts so damn easily...
ㅡand wow! so coincidental, right? him entering the bathroom, seconds after you do - and not following the stall rules... to leave one in the middle. there were three stalls!!!! you took the one on the far left, while he takes the middle?! trying so hard not to let it bother your concentration - closing in on yourself as you feel his obnoxious, yet quiet presence doing his own business... and him peeking over the fucking stall over n trying to catch a glimpse of ur dick,,, not exactly subtle - but to you, a mildly oblivious loser, you had no idea - him gripping the base of his dick and looking away: feigning disgust at himself when he was trying so hard not to pump his hand,,, not like he actually likes you or anythingㅡah, there you go; you're leaving... fuck he has to finish to catch up to you- wait for him-! b-but you arent even friends...
ㅡhey, no matter... he's super charming, he'll be your close best friend in no time... why does he even want to be your friend? the reason... even he doesnt know?! it's just this - strange pull he feels toward you - and my god youre gonna be his friend damn you!!
,,, but you seem not to like him... he wonders why that is?! he's the coolest - everyone likes him! of course you wouldn't though, yeah he understands... the popular guy trying to get close to the introverted nerd loser of the school... yeah he guesses you think that he's just trying to trick you, but rest assured - he really just wants to be your close pal, wants to know what your type gets up to in the computer room is all... no other reason...
often cornering you, nearly odiously as you saw it - why the fuck was this guy coming around you so much? you had no reason for him to talk to you... but, you'll humor the guy. nonchalantly subjecting yourself to his conversation he strikes up confidently as you were strung out on the bleachers with your other friends who seemed to disperse as he came around...
and him, catching you under the bleachers too close to one of your friends. his chest tightening and he nearly feels sick and an overwhelming amount of rage - he can't s-stand the sight... it's so... your friend slung across your lap, what were you doing? clearly enjoying your little off period - you liked guys, right? why else would you be so touchy? then, there could be a chance you did like him! an idiot, thinking like that... then him crying in a hall closet and jerking off sadly because he wishes it was him in your lap.
thinking about this dude fucking some chick anally - experimenting as he told her, and instinctively reaching down as they were in doggy - to tug. but there was nothing to tug... what is he doing?!! messily rubbing along her labia like a total fucking moron - but at least he got to cum!!
ㅡpopular yan clinging to nerd reader at a party and being oddly touchy is all... he didnt expect you to come to one of these - there was tons and you happen to be the one he's at??? it's fucking fate! slinking over to your trio of "nerds" as he saw it, mildly tipsy - so happy to see you, greeting you ecstatically - arm slung over your shoulder and mindlessly babbling... pausing when you say - "dude what? christ, youre fucked up..." yeah. Yeah he's so fucked up... you gonna lead him to somewhere quiet? oh, yeah... you are. man, you're just so polite... isnt this so romantic?
you didnt seem to mind tugging him toward the kitchen that was off limitsㅡwhy were you even leading him? he thought you didnt like him, but omg he's so happy with this outcome... nearly giggling to himself freely with the help of a single beer. ah, jeez... what kind of cologne do you wear? he could feel his pants getting tighter for some reason - was he getting turned on by the mere smell of you? man, that's just how good you smell ...
ㅡsomething where you're roommates,,, ;; "n-naah,, m' not gay." he shakes his head, grumbling to himself as he hangs off your doorway, face burning with embarrassment at being caught - tugging his hoodie down over his groin trying soo hard to hide his bulge. he flinches at your voice - "sure? i mean - might not be gay but you sure do like watching me jerk off, no?" you shake your head in faux disappointment - "seems a little gay to me, but whatever..." why were you so nonchalant? arent you gonna fucking do something about him catching you-? a-arent you?!?!! y-you don't... he leaves, disappointed, and now to jerk off to the memory of you jerking off... imagining you doing it for him. yeahㅡhe so does not like dudes!
ㅡ"a-ah, nnoㅡdude, i'm not - i'm..." rendered speechless and fucking stupid as your hand glides along his erection so shamelessly, pressing him against the wall of the dark hallway, he wants nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of your neck and let you fucking handle him- "you're not what?" you whisper gently, feigning curiosity as - "please - nothing, i- please... i-i ah..." pressing himself flat against the wall - edging his hips into your hand. you pause. and he whines.
"please?" you echo quietly, eyebrows furrowing - knowingly glaring into his eyes and it makes him quiver underneath you,,, "what are you begging for? you sure have a knack for evading my questions. try not to do it this time." he whimpers mutely, groaning softly as if reluctant - before he was babbling, you could barely make the words out - "p-please, i,,, please help me cum..." so embarrassed, his usually boisterous voice sounding so tiny and smallㅡbut fuck he felt so free. his heart beating against his ribcage, lightheaded - you must like him if you're doing this to him, it was so obvious... got him wrapped around your little finger so easily - making him cum in his pants rather easily as well. your face buried in his neck, merely nuzzling him as you worked your hand fluidly - clearly, having practice...!
#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#popular yandere!#x male reader#male reader#dom male reader#x dom male reader#sub male character....#yandere x male reader#yandere male x reader#yandere m x m reader#yandere male x male reader
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Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.
I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.
But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?
Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.
Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.
After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.
Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.
Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.
My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point
The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.
I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.
In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.
I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.
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anji mito flirting with men compilation
exactly what it says on the tin. a compilation of anji mito bisexual moments in chronological order
1. ggx2
this is his win quote against chipp. yes im counting this
2. dust strikers
this is in response to johnny saying something about how its impressive that bridget would want to fight a bunch of powerful guys or something like that. johnny responds with "what?" and anji quickly elaborates that hes interested in guys POWER but im still putting this here also
note: previous two entries are canonically dubious. so thank god he has some bisexual moments in strive too
3. strive
this one keeps getting looked over for some reason but he has THIS conversation with nagoriyuki if you beat him with 1 heart in extreme mode stage 8
youtube
transcript:
nago: you've thrown me for a loop. what a dance.
anji: liked it, did you?
nago: haha, perhaps. come visit me again.
anji: ...wait. i didn't even get to talk to him.
and most recently. his intro interaction with asuka
youtube
transcript:
anji: hey there, handsome.
asuka: another ambush? really?
anji also has a win quote against him where he goes "you need more training. have you been eating right?" but ive always interpreted that as more mocking lmao but ymmv lmao, he has a few other unique intro interactions with asuka that could be interpreted as flirting ("look at us, dancing like this!")
feel free to add on (PLEASE add on if i missed something)!
#i think the nago one is most notable but noooo no one looks at that one#its interesting becos nago Explicitly invites him to see him again when with most other characters its more passive like#'we'll see each other again' or 'we'll fight again'. this one is Come Visit Me Again#anji mito#this had to happen at some point. these ones were off the dome so its entirely possible i missed some i just wanted to like. put these here#guilty gear#i think some of his interactions with chipp Could be read as flirty if u like. want. in strive#but i dunno if it would be included here...... like “i'm liking your vibes boss”#ok again those first two are dubious but in terms of what people typically point to when asked anji bisexual#thats what gets pointed out. besides the most recent interactions
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rock me
matt x blake sanders (fem reader)
summary: when out with some friends at a bar a band is playing, the guitarist catches you eye. feeling bold you decide to approach him, one thing turns into another.
warning: low key age play, fingering, kissing, swearing, underage drinking
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
me and my friends alanna, brynleigh and emerie heard there was a live band playing at some shitty bar near where we live, he decided if we wanted to risk being kidnapped or killed being there so late at night but we had nothing better to do.
we began getting ready, i chose to wear something more casual because we’ve never been to this place. i wore a black camisole that showed off my red lacy bra under it and low rise jeans and kept my hair straight. before leaving i slid on some bracelets and a necklace and out we went.
the walk was sketchy but thank god our dorms were only two minutes away, as soon as we approached it we knew exactly what we were getting into. they didn’t even card us at the door which wasn’t the worst thing because even though the legal drinking age was 21 me and the girls were still 19, close enough ?
we grabbed some beers from the bartender and were talking for a bit just about school and other boring stuff, i was so caught up in the conversation i barely noticed the band playing. i looked over to see and my stomach did backflips, there was a tall brunette with broad shoulders dressed in a black muscle tank and black pants, i watched his rings as his fingers moved up and down the electric guitar.
i was so fascinated i didn’t even notice him staring back, we made eye contact and she just shot me a quick wink, i just stared down at the half empty bottle in my hand trying to hide my smile. they finished up their song and the drummer announced they would be back. i couldn’t wait.
i was laughing with brynleigh while alanna and emerie were talking to two men who maybe looked around 30 trying to get free drinks, that’s when i felt a presence behind me. i turned to see who it was expecting some weird old guy and i was met with the same boy i saw on stage, he completely towered over me and when i went to turn to brynleigh she had made her way over to alanna and emerie leaving just me and this man.
“hey im matt” he spoke and shot me a quick nod.
“blake” i replied giving him a warm smile.
“i like that name, how old are you?” he questioned me.
i looked around pursing my lips trying to hide my smile, i knew i should lie and say im 21 but he didn’t look much older than me. “im 19, you?”
his eyes widened a bit “you know you’re too young to be here”
i just took a sip of the beer in my hand ignoring his comment “you never answered my question”
“22” he said leaning his elbow against the edge of the bar, his eyes were so beautiful i could stare at them all night.
“not that far off” i replied shrugging my shoulders.
he just smirked at me before he leaned in to my ear so he could whisper but i would still hear him over the trashy radio music they played.
“come to the bathroom” he whispered, and with that he turned to walk and i quickly finished my beer and followed behind him.
this man could literally tell me to rip my clothes off right here and i would and i didn’t even know him.
as soon as we entered the one stall bathroom he locked it and immediately crashed his lips onto mine, the kiss was messy and rough but i didn’t care i mean he was literally the most sexiest man ive ever seen.
he scooped me up putting his hands under my thighs and i wrapped my legs around his waist, my hands tangled in his hair. he slowly started walking towards the sink and placed me on it. my legs immediately spread so he could come between them, he ghosted his fingers over my clothed heat.
i gasped into the kiss and i could feel him smirk against my lips. i lifted myself up so he could slide the jeans off my hips and down to my knees, he just stared at the black lacy underwear and i internally thanked myself for not going with the granny panties.
he moved his kiss down to my jaw and then my neck, he sucked and slightly bit down on the spot under my ear that made me melt under his touch. he kept doing that making sure my neck was marked up and he slowly moved his fingers under my panties.
he moved his fingers through my slick folds pulling back out from my neck. “already so wet and ive barely touched you?” he said with a smirk on his face, a pink blush flew across my cheeks and nose feeling slightly embarrassed.
“you’re so beautiful you know that” he spoke again this time going back into my neck and rubbing his fingers in circles against my clit. i bucked my hips towards him laying my hands gripping against the sink dying for his touch.
he must’ve got the message because a second later he slipped a finger in and a low moan fell from my lips, i felt his finger curl inside me before he added another one. he just kept his motion and pressed his forehead against mine.
he quickened his pace and i could already feel the knot in my stomach forming. my hands gripped on the sink so hard my knuckles turned white. my brows furrowed and my mouth agape.
“i can feel you clenching, let go baby”, his words sent me over the edge and i threw my head back and spread my legs impossibly further apart, a loud string of moans and curses slipping from my mouth. he kept pumping his fingers in and out and let my high ride out before removing his fingers and licking them clean.
i just stared in awe at the man, his chest was heaving up and down and he just stood and admired me. i jumped off the counter and started pulling up my jeans before someone started banging on the door.
“yo matt, you’ve got five minutes to get out here” a voice yelled from the other side of the door, it sounded like matt but not quite it.
i looked at matt and he just rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, i placed one last peck on his lips.
“here’s my number, call me when you get home tonight” he said as he handed me a peice of paper with 10 digits on it. i took it and stuffed it in my back pocket as i grabbed my phone that had fallen down to the floor.
he opened the door and out with both went, i saw all my friends faces as they saw me and him walk out side by side and him pull me into a side hug and place a kiss on the top of my head before heading back stage.
“okay what the fuck just happened” alanna asked me with excitement in her tone.
“honestly i don’t even know, and ive only had one beer” i said chuckling and throwing my hand to my head.
“well you’re in luck” brynleigh spoke before she turned around with a black platter full of tequila shots. “the bartender thinks that’s you’re boyfriend so free shots on the house !!”
my eyes widened and a big smile grew on my face. we each grabbed one cheering and downing them, all of our faces contorted with disgust and we all laughed.
we drank whatever was left in the tiny cups and danced to music while i was busy eyeing matt. i now realize where he got the skills for what had just happened in the bathroom.
the bar was closing and me and the girls were shit faced so we decided to walk back to our dorms, i shared with brynleigh so alanna and emerie said their goodbyes and went to their dorm. i sunk into my bed and remembered the piece of paper in my pocket.
i quickly pulled it out and carefully entered the digits into my phone and named the contact “guitar matt”, i sent a quick message saying i was home and immediately passed out not bothering to look at the message he had sent.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
the next morning i woke up and my head was pounding, i realized i still had my shirt and bra on but i must’ve kicked my jeans off in the middle of the night. i grabbed my phone and saw he had texted me. last nights memories flooding my head. i clicked on the message as my eyes scanned what he had said.
“im in town for a week, can’t wait to see you again ;)”
a/n: sorry yall this song plus guitar matt is actually stuck in my head, also this is the only part ! (unless yall want another part cause im low key in love with this ;)) ok bye love you !!
comment to be added to tag list !!
#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt x reader#matt fanfic#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#chris smut#chris sturniolo#nick x reader#nick sturniolo#nicolas antonio sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#spotify#colby smut#colby x reader#colby brock#sam and colby
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ive tried searching Michael cera x reader and nothing shows up but you :( please write about him I'm begging 🙏
❥ i feel you on this one, nobody ever writes about him! i'm not sure if you want something for the actor or one of his characters but i've decided to write about the man himself! AND IM SORRY THIS IS REALLY LATE AND REALLY SHORT AAAAAA
on-set, off-set
pairing: michael cera x actor!fem!reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
warnings: none, just goofyness, BUT THIS IS VERY UNEDITED
word count: 538
with her brown hair swishing from side-to-side, she strutted into the scene in her purple and blue glittery swimsuit. “hi barbie!” she greeted the other blondes and brunettes scattered across the sandy beach. “hi barbie!” “hi barbie!” “oh my god, popstar barbie..” a tiny whisper said, making her turn towards the quiet sound. “h-hey barbie!” the voice was coming from a redhead she didn’t realise stood next to her the entire time. “oh, hey allan!” she replied as he nervously giggled.
“cut!” a voice yelled out causing the cameras to stop filming. the barbie placed her hands on her hips and leaned towards the one and only allan. “that was already so much fun.” she told him, grinning. “it was. too bad the others are going to have to film on different days though, huh?” allan’s actor, michael, stretched as he talked to his girlfriend of two years.
greta walked towards the two, “good job, guys! it was exactly how i imagined it.” she smiled at the couple, “for the next scene, i was thinking you could move nearer to the barbies before ken tries to impress stereotypical barbie?” she asked y/n who only nodded, “oh yeah, sure!” “great.” greta walked away from them to converse with the crew for the next scene.
michael took in the scenery of the set for a bit as they waited for the rest of the cast to arrive. ryan was one of the first ones there. “hey, ry.” the girl greeted him, waving. “hey, lovebirds.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “how’s it going?” “going great! filmed that hi barbie scene for our part.” “mmm, bet it’s going to turn out great.” he gushed, crossing his arms.
“we hope so.” michael said, watching the rest of the cast walk into the studio.
the two had coincidentally been casted in the same movie without each other’s knowledge, which was hard to understand at first until they explained it in an interview after the movie had just been released.
“actually,” y/n started, “i’d gotten cast around 2020 and kept it a secret from basically everyone because i really wanted it to be a surprise, like nobody knew at all! until i showed up on the first day of filming and saw this guy!” she nudged her boyfriend’s rib and he laughed. “it seemed as though we had similar ideas on surprises because i got casted really last minute and so when i heard of the role i immediately thought ‘oh, y/n’s gonna freak out when she watches this movie and sees me there.’ then what do i know? she’s standing on set in her popstar barbie costume.” michael scoffingly laughed as the rest of the cast chuckled along.
“so, how is it working on set with your partner? any interesting quarrels that might have happened?” the interviewer asked and they shared a look. “nope. totally none.” “yeah, we have a very professional relationship on the job, i’d say.” their comments make greta snort, “they banter quite a lot on set, actually.” she jabbed, “very distracting.” ryan shook his head, “tut tut. how unprofessional.” he commented, making the others giggle.
michael and y/n only smile, how can they deny the truth?
#allan#barbie#barbie allan#michael cera#michael cera x reader#michael cera oneshot#established relationship#actor au#michael cera x fem reader#michael cera x actor reader#barbie movie#barbie 2023#popstar barbie reader#michael cera masterlist#allan sherwood#allan oneshot
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Hi Rist~
So this is a bit morbid… And it’s not exactly related to your fics, but Imma ask anyway because you are the All Knowing Winx god.
What do you think would happen to the Dragon Flame if Bloom died? Like, before Domino was revived and while she is the only remaining survivor.
I’ve been curious about this for a little while now and I honestly don’t know who else or where else to ask this.
Also hope you’re doing well and life isn’t bullying you! Lots of love from your #1 Fan 💙
GIRL. GIRL YOU HAVE NO IDEA IVE PLANNED AN EXACT FIC ABOUT THIS IM PLANNING TO WRITE AFTER TBHTBH but I’m nothing if not a slut for validation so ahhahahaha have an excerpt without context right now
“You could always wait for the next guardian. Manipulate them instead. You're like, what, a hundred years old? Can’t be too hard to wait until I have children.”
In the corner of her eyes, she can see something hard pass over his face, something like a snarl. It’s gone when she turns around, replaced by his carefully composed half-smile. [visible at all/ re: ch3]
“I'm flattered you think me so young, and a little appalled at your lack of education. If Faragonda taught you anything about your realms history, you'd know I’m past half a millennium now.”
His smile turns into a smirk.
“Besides. Your mind is a rather dull place, compared to the splendor of the dimension I spent those centuries in.”
She rolls her eyes, but returns to her task without dignifying him with a reply. If the past [time] has taught her anything, then that Valtor is incapable of remaining silent for long.
“You are awfully optimistic, little fairy.”
“Occupational hazard.”
He's waiting for her to ask him, she knows. He loves to see her seek him out, to ask him questions and beg for his wisdom. It's not like he has many alternatives for conversation, so she decides to humor him.
“What exactly makes you say that?”
“Your confidence that any of your potential offspring would inherit your powers.”
[clipped. Edit here]
She frowns, her hands faltering.
“What do you mean? The Flame is heritable, isn’t it?”
“The Flame,” he says, “is the birthright of the ruler of Domino. It has been passed down in your family, so it always was the royal line. But it has skipped generations before, sometimes disappeared for centuries at a time. And that was before the fall.
“Without Domino, what purpose does it serve?”
Something cold, heavy seems to settle in her chest.
“You think I could be the last.”
“I am not willing to risk it. If the Flame disappears, I will perish as well, won’t I?”
#asks#I’ve written this like a year ago and there's a bunch of placeholders in it#but i think it’s hilarious that u ask this because this is my favorite part of it that I’ve already written and it’s CRUCIAL to the plot#sparxshipping#working title: stowaway#no pirates in this one tho
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believing in female solidarity and class conciousness and sisterhood while dealing with western feminists is actually a nightmare lmao
im so tired of making an effort, i truly am. im so tired. im tired of feeling like i have to teach Basic Empathy and Caring abt Others and Class Conciousness 101. im tired of being the only one whose making an effort in this relation. im so tired of it being the case that its only the westerners who lose their little marbles over whatever feminist points i may be be trying to make, and they somehow don't understand the irony in them prepetually calling so many nonwestern feminists fascists or whatever the fuck else. yes yes, indian feminists are just stupid for trying to ban pornography and surrogacy, please enlighten them. south korean women are just evil brainwashed bitches, that's why they're radical separatists - south asia in general having a separatist and radical wave is for no reason whatsoever theyre just nazis lmao. african feminists, so many of them, are white supremecists for not exactly parroting your western bullshit, yup yup this makes sense. islamic feminists are "suspicious" lmao for the language we use in our writings (analysis of material reality). lets completely ignore that the feministms of the nonwestern world call for the abolition of prostitution. balkan sex trafficking victims, which are most prostitutes and child prostitues in the west, spending years speaking out against all this and trying to change laws? naaah we know nothing, we dont know nothing at all, the well of westerners who have no idea what theyre talking abt will englighten us abt that, while calling for the death of women who dont agree with their sex work bullshit lmao. we also have a bad habit of joking abt unifying and killing men and killing sex tourists, we should probably stop that bc its real offensive and scary to the westerners too
all this god damn endless performative sharade about LiSteN to WoMen of CoLour and LisTen to ThIrd WoRld WoMen and liSten to NonWeSteRn WoMen and poOr woMen and SeX TrAffIcking ViCtiMs (wait nvm they dont even say that now, bc only "sex workers" exist to them, ever) et fucking cetera. yea lmao. they dont actually give a shit about marginalized women though
god help us. how the hell is the cognitive dissonance of this whole situation not hitting them exactly? with. literally basically any other feminist on this planet but the liberal/mainstream westerners you can hold an actual conversation and discourse and understand each other. everyone but them and their postmodern brainrot understands this is a class struggle and understands the root of the opression of the female sex. "ThErES nO UnIvErSalLiTy BetWeEN wOmEn" just shut it already jfc. the fact that we can have international conversations on our struggles basically already proves there is - its only you who cant get what planet youre living on, with the endless relativity and individualism and choice and language politiquing and patriarchal bootlicking
i know, because ive been doing it for years. and ive been watching the feminist movements of the nonwestern world for years. i also know the only reason why on this blog i Can actually for the most part say things without being crucified is bc most of yall arent western or white or both
and apart from the ones who outright lose their mind or feel incredibly comfortable speaking over you or talking down to you - dont rly know how they havent choked on the entitlement yet -maybe they're just fucking lost and too far gone. but. even the rest. who are less hostile or just privileged and dont know better. im just tired, just tired.
the internet is chock full of the opinions of nonwestern women on feminism. the internet is chock full of the accounts of sex trafficking victims, of child prostitues, of prostitutes, of experts on human trafficking. its fucking full of it. and its on tv, and sometimes in newspapers. god fucking damn it so much has been written on this, so much has been done on this, so many efforts movements organizations documentaries whatever the fuck. spains laws were changed by our trafficked women but somehow its like this fact doesn't exist to the westenrs, or the have the gull to explain that, actually, they're wrong.
it is of absolutely no pleasure of me at all to educate the western "feminists" on shit they could educate themselves on in approximately 10 fucking minutes if theyd bother to do a google search and give a shit, actually give a shit and maybe, for fucking once, realize theyre not always right and the center of the world. its of no pleasure to me at all to have to keep my cool and be nice enough that whatever i say isnt just dismissed, because if youre too fucking angry over god damn sexual slavery you're just an evil crazy irrational bitch. im tired. whatever the hell i say has been said by so many before, so many times, for so long, but its like its been said to a wall or yelled out into space
sometimes i wonder what the hell we must even do for it to even matter. rationality and calmness hasnt helped. anger hasn't helped. detailed accounts of what its Actually like to be trafficked or a child prostitute or a prostitute or a sex slave, havent helped. we have bore our pain and sorrows and trauma and soul and so often it doesn't mean a single god damn thing to them. what. what needs to happen. should we just start having mental breakdowns and screaming our throaths raw infront of them? no, they will not care or understand even then. should we show them what the sexual slavery of children actually looks like - except wait, theres undercover journalism and documentaries and accounts written on this. it matters not. it matters not. Whats next? Interpretive dance?? What else we got, should we maybe just start trying to communicate through telepathic waves?? i wonder if some of them are simply doomed to be deaf and blind and unfeeling
im tired of making the effort, and im tired of reaching across the isle hoping that at least some of them can change their minds and give a shit and open their eyes to whats actually happening, and how detached their "feminism" is from the rest of ours. im tired of having to explain to the western women whose ideology is responsable for, lmao, our peoples sexual slavery, that this shit is real bad, and lmao in actuality imperialism, but having to do it nicely enough while They are x30 times more hostile with Me. lord. if youre going to call me a fascist and cancel me irl, if were just throwing words around, can i just start calling them slavers? except thats not going to get us anywhere, except no matter how many times i want to just snap, i know that doing so as badly as i want to to their face isnt going to get anything done
. and.what choice do i have, really? i cant simply leave the western feminists to their bullshit. because what they think becomes law in their own damn countries and then affects us, it becomes international law as well because it is their country who lead the international community. the bullshit that they think, actually, unfortunately direcly affects us. and not only that, but it affects the women and girl-children most vulnerable and opressed in their own countries, whom are still our sisters whose pain and saftey i am concerned with. so i cant just leave them to it, and there is little choice then to not educate, or not try to at least try to reach across the isle. theres little choice but to have the hope that some of them can care and understand, and that some is better than nothing and worth it and a start..... even with how fucking tired and fed up i am and how i wish i wouldnt have to keep bearing my god damn suffering just so theyd get it, im still. frankly so willing to do it with someone who is actually willing to listen and change. i dont believe in canceling people forever, and i have the hope and knowledge that changing one persons mind is a ripple effect, for then they change anothers mind, and on and on
i just wish. theyd at least meet me halfway. im tired of making the effort to still see them as sisters and women whose struggles i care about, while for the most part they could give less of a shit
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This chapter was so juicy omg lets get straight into it
Agatha literally embodies me 😂 everything shes said i’ve either said or thought. From her saying she never had faith in reader’s relationship with yelena to calling it a rebound. She’s exactly right and i’ll come back to those two quotes a little later. The other thing about sparky being a mastermind is something I genuinely thought earlier on i was like aw damn the dogs bringing them back together but I didn’t say anything and now i really wish i did cos same agatha same 😂
Im gonna speak about wanda briefly here and then I’ll come back to her affer. But in that whole conversation with agatha she’s very mature about the whole thing considering reader kissed her. She’s not getting excited about it out of respect for readers relationship(that’s already over but she doesn’t know that yet) shes also being cautious because of what happened last time with reader.
Im glad Valkyrie apologised and that wanda didn’t string her along honestly did not want another reader yelena relationship for lack of better words.
Vision is gone thank fuck for that he will not be missed.
Natasha. Quite possibly one of the saddest parts of the series. Nothing hurts quite like a friendship breakup between best friends. I said it last time and my views haven’t changed. Nat is supposed to be readers friend, while I completely understand why shes angry it makes sense yelenas her little sister and i get it but reader is also her friend. It a complicated situation because its very difficult to be neutral. Reader shouldn’t have cheated full stop. However, if we’re being realistic some could argue reader has been emotionally cheating since the start considering the love for wanda was always there. But back to my point this relationship should never have happened to begin with or at least not when it did. Yelena shouldn’t have pursued reader and reader shouldn’t have dated her either especially not without having the therapy that is so desperately needed. Im not blaming yelena or saying nat’s reaction is wrong because i truly understand both sides its just really sad that this is how its ended. Im not sure what your plans for nat are for once i genuinely dont have a clue.
I think its very ironic that at the start of this wanda didn’t really have that big a support group but now thats kind of the reverse because reader now has no one. I also think its very like idk what the word is “impactful” i guess that now reader’s lost everyone but wanda is still there for them.
Back to wanda. Idk how to feel because we know what happened to wanda last time they entered this sort of arrangement and i really don’t want it to again because she has made so much progress. On one hand i feel like she won’t let herself go back that far but the ones we love can be our weakness sometimes. And on the other hand it seemed different this time less aggressive like the way reader cushioned wandas head. But one thing I didn’t like was reader leaving with no aftercare i saw someone else say it and I definitely agree. PSA to everyone aftercare is so so so important okay? Good. And i also don’t like Wanda missing therapy because of this arrangement it feels like a step backwards (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing in terms of story writing cos like i said last time recovery is not a linear path and its really validating that you’ve included that)
And finally pietro. Oh dear god the anticipation is killing me. Ive been dying for chapter 17 and its almost here. He knows why wanda missed the sessions (or at least suspects) and i think hes got a picture of wanda in the hospital or maybe after he found her (im not quite sure who found wanda after she overdosed I don’t remember but uno what i mean💀) and hes gonna send it to reader maybe saying back off
I swear im in love with your brain youre incredible I can’t wait for chapter 17
-🧃
Reading your comments/thoughts is always a favorite habit of mine whenever I post an update. Like, srsly dude, I look forward to it.
There's something you highlighted that I did not even intended in the story: I think its very ironic that at the start of this wanda didn’t really have that big a support group but now thats kind of the reverse because reader now has no one. I also think its very like idk what the word is “impactful” i guess that now reader’s lost everyone but wanda is still there for them.
I guess that happened naturally. I mean, when you're maintaining a positive vibe in life and taking care of yourself in general, suddenly there's room for people in you life who also want to share the same outlook in life. You attract good energy. You're able to take care of relationships around you because you're in a good place. I guess that's what happened :)
Yes, aftercare is really important. R is neglecting herself, wasting away, so she really is incapable of thinking about another person's needs at this point.
My mind?? Look at your mind! Look at what you'll think Piet would do O_O
Once again, thank you! I super enjoy reading your points!
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two people (an idol and an oc) who live on opposite sides of the world who think they are each others soulmates. they try to communicate telepathically everyday, and are desperately waiting for the day they can meet one another. then the girl finds out her soulmate is actually a different member from the same group as the person she thought was her soulmate.
ive never submitted a request so sorry if this is too detailed or bad!!! i just want you to know your an amazing writer and person and i hope your day is filled with yummy food and lots of love.
oh, there's no such thing as a bad or too-detailed prompt, so there's no need to worry about that! it is indeed a great prompt, I'm wondering just how exactly I can fit it in a drabble.... yet here it is! I hope it does justice to your idea!
I took a bit a lot of creative freedom with it so it's basically an excerpt of a bigger idea and since I've never really worked with OCs before, I'll just name them Haeun.
Drabble: 2/???
Day: 2
There has always been this strange itching in the back of Haeun's mind, especially bothersome in the pitch dark of the room that surrounds them, something akin to a soft-mannered voice that seems to be calling out for them, yet unable to ever properly reach it. It has sometimes felt like warmth during the spring season, as the sun settles onto their skin, a welcomed white noise on the days that their mind can't get a rest, the heart-clenching sensation of a long-distanced loved one coming back home.
"God, I think I must be really losing my mind now"
"Oh I thought I was the only one thinking that" there's a chuckle that follows the statement, lighthearted and teasing
"What?"
"Listen- I think we can really skip to the introductions already after I had to listen to you recite Calculus like a prayer and then have you completely blank out during your exam" the voice seems closer than it has ever appeared to be as if there truly was someone just casually having a conversation next to them "I swear I almost dropped the concert and went on to find you and answer that test myself"
"Ah, great. My therapist is going to have a field trip with this"
"Been there, done that, the name's Yoongi by the way"
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ok im gonna follow the rpverse blogs but ive missed months and months of their lore since dsmp!cranboo died so would it be possible for U to like summarize what's happened since then? im asking U cos I see how invested in the rp blogs U r its ok if U cant
wait okay I know tubbolul has a lore summary thing I thiiink it might be in the pinned but I’m also not sure how up to date it is. also I’ve only followed non-benchtrio rpverse blogs recently. umm okay I’m going to try my best under the cut bc I have cranboo memory so it’ll be a bit rambley:
siiince cranboo died okay so I might just sum up each individually and see how that goes:
memorybooks: died like how they did in canon but made a deal with dreamxd (don’t remember rp blog name sorry) to come back for a week I think? and the condition was he needed to build a house by the end of the week. did not do that instead spent time readjusting to being alive and hanging out with his family. eventually got foolish (sharktotems? oh god I need to check names huh) to build the house? but it was said they could had to build it so built another one. just before she died again I’m pretty sure she made a deal with kristen (also don’t remember rp blog sorry) to extend the deadline until New Years so he could experience at least one Christmas with his family. also there was a whole rpverse event dance that was planned since b4 he died so benchtrio went to that. he died again New Years Eve. I think maybe a week into this a lot of the rpverse gods had a meeting and decided to bring ranboo back for good? and let’s just leave that there for a bit
Ghostboo: ghostboo spilled a bunch of Ranboo’s memorybook secrets to everyone
Tubbolul (not going into as much detail since it’s already on a doc) spent most of this time dealing with grief badly and also trying to figure out how to bring ranboo bad. originally didn’t know about the deal and that ranboo would only be back for a week until I think just before time was up. after ranboo died again worked on weapons (nukes) to try and confront dreamxd and threaten dreamxd into reviving ranboo for good. dreamxd called her bluff and ripped out her eye. was originally very distrustful when ranboo came back to life. oh wait before ranboo was brought back him and tommy moved to petalsborough/petalsbrough (tubbolul has a tour of that on the pinned post I think) which was a way to get away from the server.
tmmyrp: I don’t remember exactly when it happened but tommy was having conversations(/arguments) with subtotechno and like.. becoming friends with him again. also just in general trying to support ranboo and tubbo while also dealing with his own feelings about ranboo dying. not a lotta communication going on between these guys. also idr when it happened but he locked ranboo and tubbo in a room so they could chat about their problems. has a chicken named Gertrude who’s a dreamon and yeah moved to petalsborough with tubbo
bestnightmares/dream/exile 2 arc:
part of the reason they moved to petalsborough was bc it wasn’t safe with dream about - who starts actively talking with them but since no one knows the locations of petalsborough they’re just shaken but feel safe. during this time where ranboo has been newly revived he ends up getting caught by dream bc he went to the mansion (can’t remember why sorry) who reads through his comm to get petalsborough coords. around this time ranboo is also freaking out about his connection to dream and starts debating leaving petalsborough bc she thinks it’ll make it safer for tubbo and tommy. tommy and ranboo talk a little about how ranboo helped trap tommy in the prison. ranboo does end up leaving - I’ve written so many diff versions of this idr what exactly happened.
during this time subtotechno was bitten by Gertrude and was becoming possessed?/essentially turned into a mob. him and Philza (angelxxreaper) end up getting tubbo’s help (I thiiink tubbo might’ve needed something from them too but idr) since ranboo left, tubbo takes michael with him. there’s a snow storm that happens around this time so he ends up staying over. tommy is in petalsborough entirely by himself and then exile 2 happens. I content blocked this part so idk exactly what happens but he died and was revived a lot. tubbo essentially has to canon kill techno to stop the possession so he does. they sort of have a conversation and end up on okay/good terms. also during this tubbo and techno catch on to what’s happening and eventually ranboo comes back to petalsborough and realises what happened. them + Phil work on a plan to kill dream and save tommy. which is enacted and yayyy rpDream’s Dead ^_^
a lot of just sort of chilling from there on..? idk why this specific section is gone from my memory but they hang around petalsborough for a bit and tubbo works on projects and stuff. eventually tommy moves back to the mainland and then I think ranboo says he wants to as well? tubbo is a little iffy on it but eventually agrees and they move back to the mansion. I am not confident and will need to think some more so be aware I might reblog this (I’ll @ you ig) but I think it’s all mostly chill plot-wise from here on out for them? Ranboo and tubbo are thinking about adopting another child and are getting their place ready for that
Phil and techno recently started having issues with this ender King guy and sorry I’ve been busy so haven’t been able to follow along their plot as closely but I did see the finale bit and techno was paralysed + threatened with death and Phil became like.. a god or something I think and killed ender to save him
Songbird-sunrise (wilbur) and casinoroyale (quackity) have been chatting a lot. Umm before that Las Nevadas was abandoned while quackity was looking for Charlie and wilbur spent a lot of time sort of vandalising the place in like an attempt to get noticed by ppl. had some convos with Phil, techno, tommy and ranboo (and a couple very awkward ones with tubbo) and techno built him a house bc he was just living out of the burger van. also he canonically sometimes hallucinates a version of cranboo (girlboycranboo I think is the blog name? I’m pretty sure it’s run by met but idr) wilbur is in general trying to deal with revival and his actions b4 he died and everything
casinoroyale I admittedly only just followed so you know as much as I do but he’s commissioned tubbo for a pair of prosthetic wings so he can fly and that’s what tubbo’s been working on recently. and in general in still sort of looking for Charlie I think? but keeping that to himself
ummm I think this is everything! I recommend checking out some of their pinned posts bc it might have recaps - at the very least tubbolul’s does. hope this helps a bit ^_^
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Ghost BC x Mistresses, Cheating, and it’s Ending.
You read the first one. How exciting. How god awful. But all things must come to an end, delightful or disastrous.
Papa II: You probably ended it. You probably got bored of the sneaking around, and secrets, and only ever getting fucked without conversation or care. You probably want a real relationship now, a real life with someone else. You tell him it’s over, and you two can go back to being civil when you need to see each other, and that’s all there is to it. He says “I’ll probably be around if you need a fuck, and you always know where to find me. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m in the middle of work, please”. He’s not hurt because no one’s heart was ever going to break, but suddenly going home to that good woman of his is incredibly less appealing, and the guidelines of being a good man are a little blurred and a lot less strained. He tries a little less hard to do the right thing because the right thing became second nature and second for a reason, because his divine nature was living with reckless abandon of all ethical and moral codes, and he’s a little more alone without either of you in his corner. Your life is a little more boring without him and you realize the thrill of the lie, the thrill of knowing a man like that, was more of the excitement in your life than you thought all along. You might call him once a month, maybe longer between, maybe not for a few years, but he’s always around, and you always know where to find him, and that’s the only promise he’s ever kept in his life.
Papa III: He loved her. He loved her so much. She kept the fire inside him alive for a long time. But dear, you brought the fire in him back to life, which is a much harder task, full of much more love. And if you promise to never let him read the paper, and never let the love you have for each other cool down, he promises that if you give him exactly thirty days, he’ll be on your doorstep with a megaphone to declare you relationship and a shiny ring to ensure it lasts forever. The waiting is agony. By the twentieth day you haven’t heard, you’re convinced he isn’t coming back, You’re convinced he could leave, couldn’t get away, and you would never be getting him back. By the twenty-ninth day, you’re in tears every second trying to find a way to grieve a loss so great, the loss of the one man you truly loved, one man you were willing to risk everything for, put everything on hold for. On the thirtieth day, he is outside your window with that megaphone and a lump in his pocket. You hear from three stories down, “Caramia, I love you so entirely, so completely, it is madness without you. Won’t you come to me and end this torment?” You run down the stairs so fast you trip down the last few and nearly break your ankle. When you throw open the door he’s on one knee, and the diamond on that ring is bigger than hers was, and he’s never looked so happy in all your months together. Be mine, he whispers. Be mine forever and I promise to never let you read the back of the cereal box, or read books in bed. Marry me, my love. You take the ring, and it fits perfectly just as you two do together. It’s three years before you’re the new her, and he’s coming up with new nicknames for the new you.
Papa IV: It’s not fun anymore, you say every single day to him like it matters anymore. He still says it was never meant to be fun. When you’ve convinced yourself with childish lies for so long that all the stomach-ache laughter and the sex and the look of what you wanted to call love in his eyes when he was crying, that it was worth how dehydrated you’ve been for all the months you’ve known each other, and it was worth all the drinking, and it was worth all those prescriptions. It wasn’t. It never was and it never would be. When you’ve convinced yourself that you’d rather die than be without him because that’s the only thing that can tear the terrible two of you apart. He’s terrible, and bad, and awful, but he made you all those things too. All those times you cry on the exhausted shoulder of your friends because you hate him so much and love him bad. All those times you got too drunk to see, because that’s all you do together, and your friends had to stay up all night by your side to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit in your sleep. It was worth it to be loved by him. Then he gets bad, he gets worse, and worse, and worse, and worse. And with a few phone calls to the wrong people, wrong in his eyes only, all the sudden you’re on the phone with Her to make sure he’s okay before you never speak again. She thanks you for calling those wrong people and all you want to say is don’t thank me, please don’t thank me, I did this to him and he did this to me and we’ve been fucking the whole time he’s been trying to convince you he still loves you. But you don’t. And you spend your days wandering like a ghost, a little more hollow than before and infinitely more lost, and you scream in your sleep and only sit on the floor in the shower. You grieve him like he’s dead and not just a phone call away, because you said only death could tear you apart and if you had to see him again or hear his voice the cycle would start again and one of you would be. He always said you would always stay friends if anything happened. You’re glad he’s immortally dead so you don’t have to.
- Rosie
#Can you tell im leaning a little hard into the copia ones#am i being too obvious#if i changed the name i could call all of these a memoir#I would post more and happier things if i was happier#ghost#ghost bc#the band ghost#papa ii#papa iii#papa iv#copia#popia#affair#mistres#rosie#tragic#cheating#cheating pt 2
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John Egbert, Jade Harley, Karkat Vantas
Act 4, page 1525
ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]
GT: hey, happy birthday jade!
GG: yay thank you john!!!!! :D
GT: whew ok, i got your present in the mail JUST on time.
GT: plus i sent rose's and dave's too.
GT: why do your guys'es birthdays got to be all bunched together like that??? you are running me ragged!
GG: heheh i know but it is nice of you to think of us all like that!
GT: i can't wait for you to see what i got you. i don't want to spoil it or anything but hopefully it will help you solve those problems you've been having lately.
GT: MYSTERIOUS WINK ;)
GG: im sure it is great, i cant wait either!!!!!
GG: it might take a while to get here from there but it will be worth the wait!
GT: oh man.
GT: i am such an idiot, i forgot about how long it takes you to get stuff.
GT: ARGH.
GG: john thats ok really! im sure will get to me exactly when it needs to and it will be a nice surprise when it does!
GT: ok well i hope so.
GG: <3......
GG: uhhhh hold on
carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gardenGnostic [GG]
CG: WAIT GOD DAMMIT DON'T BLOCK ME.
CG: I MEAN NOT THAT BLOCKING ME WOULD DO ANYTHING.
CG: BUT JUST LISTEN.
GG: what do you want?????
CG: I JUST HAVE TO DELIVER A MESSAGE AND THEN I'LL GO.
CG: IT IS A MESSAGE FROM YOU, SO YOU PROBABLY OUGHT TO LISTEN.
GG: this is nonsense
GG: every time i believe something you say you laugh at me and call me a gullible human!!!!
GG: its so childish
CG: OK FINE I ADMIT IT, I COMPLETELY SHIT THE BED HERE.
CG: I GET THAT.
CG: AND I CAN'T PROMISE I WON'T KEEP TROLLING YOU.
CG: CAUSE I WILL, IN WEEKS OR MONTHS OR WHATEVER.
CG: I'LL KEEP GIVING YOU A HARD TIME, BUT SEE THAT WON'T BE PRESENT ME.
CG: THAT'S PAST ME.
CG: FROM LIKE A HALF HOUR AGO OR SO, WHEN I WAS MORE HOT AND BOTHERED ABOUT ALL THIS, OK?
GG: D:
GG: i dont know what youre talking about at all.....
GG: its another prank
CG: WHATEVER, FINE, THINK IT'S A PRANK.
CG: AS LONG AS YOU REMEMBER THIS CONVERSATION.
CG: SEE WE'RE TRYING TO TALK TO YOU IN THE FUTURE, AND IT'S IMPORTANT, BUT YOU WON'T ANSWER US.
CG: SO WE TALKED TO YOU WAAAY IN THE FUTURE TO ASK HOW TO GET IN TOUCH WITH NOT-SO-FUTURE YOU.
CG: ARE YOU FOLLOWING?
GG: no
CG: SHE SAID TO TALK TO YOU NOW AND TELL YOU THIS.
CG: YOU KNOW YOUR ROBOT?
GG: you mean the robot you think is stupid?
GG: the one youve mocked me for having on a number of occasions???
CG: YEAH, WELL I STILL DO THINK YOUR ROBOT IS STUPID.
CG: BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT.
CG: LATER ON IT WILL BLOW UP FOR SOME REASON. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY.
GG: this is the worst prank youve ever pulled!!!!!!
CG: QUIET.
CG: ANYWAY, WHEN IT HAPPENS YOU WON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
CG: THE THING TO DO IS TO CONTACT US.
CG: AND WE'LL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO.
GG: why should i do that?
CG: BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU TOLD US TO TELL YOU.
CG: WHATEVER, BELIEVE ME, DON'T BELIEVE ME, I DID MY JOB.
CG: I'M OUT OF HERE.
carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling gardenGnostic [GG]
GG: ok im back sorry
GG: i had to tell someone to go away!
GT: oh god.
GT: the trolls again?
GG: yup :o
GT: they have been such a pain in the ass lately.
GT: it seems like there are so many.
GT: there are either like fifty of these retards or it's one guy with a lot of alt accounts.
GG: ive never had any sort of feeling about them or what they want which is kind of weird!!!
GG: but it seems to me like they are probably all different people and not one guy
GG: i have counted twelve
GT: what do they want with us!!!
GG: some people just like to needle others for some reason john
GG: it is like a game i guess. they are like pranksters!!
GT: oh hell no, shittiest pranksters ever.
GG: but i think they are mostly harmless
GG: every so often they manage to get through my block filter and hassle me. its been going on for years! actually some of them are kind of funny i think hehe
GT: oh wow, what? years??
GT: ok, well i am sick of them.
GT: i've been thinking of changing my pesterchum handle to throw them off.
GT: so...
GT: i guess i'm gonna do that.
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Your tags on https://www.tumblr.com/ayzrules/725611442866454528/ive-heard-a-lot-of-people-say-dont-reach-out-to
#i still do get bitter over how much time and energy i was willing to put into group 1 that group 1 wasn't returning to me#like this stuff takes so much time to get over
God, yes. I feel like I've been trying to "get over" a friendship that became like that for longer than the friendship has actually been good and healthy for.
Good on you for changing your priorities and sticking with it. I try to do something similar, every time I find myself dwelling on how hurtful that was, I channel the energy into making contact with a different friend.
I hope all the people with excuses in the tags see posts like yours and see what the takeaway is - that the result was NOT the friendship staying as it was with no effort from them. If you treat someone with lack of care, they WILL eventually start to care less about you, for self-preservation if nothing else. Good excuses and good communication about them can stave this off, but only so much.
Hang in there and thanks for sharing.
Good excuses and good communication about them can stave this off, but only so much.
gosh, so much this! Like, I didn't get to this point without talking to said friends - I got there after we had multiple conversations about it and it finally became clear enough to me that nothing was going to change. I think part of it was that I'm the kind of person who puts 100% into things I decide to invest time into, to an extent where it can get detrimental to my own health (i.e. staying up all night working on something instead of getting reasonable sleep) and this kind of bleeds into my interpersonal relationships. That group was my "top priority" in terms of channeling energy and enthusiasm for a long time, and the realization that the others in the group just didn't return the sentiment for whatever reason (and I mean that in the most neutral, least accusatory way possible - i understand that all of us are dealing with school, mental health, jobs, etc) was both difficult and freeing for me. I actually did exactly what the original post said you shouldn't (oops, haha) and literally wouldn't message first in the chat for weeks or months at a time - and every time I did that, the chat was just dead. Zero activity. I think that helped put some things into perspective for me too, especially when another chat I was in didn't suffer from this kind of issue.
every time I find myself dwelling on how hurtful that was, I channel the energy into making contact with a different friend.
100%! It's definitely been a much healthier way of coping with it for me. I haven't cut anyone from group 1 off or blocked/gone no contact or whatever, but I also don't go out of my way to randomly pop in and say hi anymore. Wrt my newer groups/chats I've always thought of it as like, filling the space that group 1 used to hold in a way? if i think of a fun activity that i might have liked to propose to group 1 in the past, i suggest it to my new group instead. i'm more than happy to do work and organize activities or fun lil events like music streams with new group because i get more than just "Ooo" as a response to suggestions. lmao.
If you treat someone with lack of care, they WILL eventually start to care less about you, for self-preservation if nothing else.
100% that last part. i haven't looked at any of the tags in the original post, but i hope those people can understand that it's supremely unhealthy to be waiting desperately for someone to respond and getting upset when they just don't while seeing them respond elsewhere, or wracking your brain for ways to engage people - who are supposed to be your friends! - in ways where they won't just ghost in the middle of the conversation, or feeling bitter when you're trying to put something together for them but the intended recipients don't seem invested or particularly receptive at all (me a few hours before seeing the original post, lol). even though i haven't left the chat or blocked anyone etc, i've definitely moved on, mostly because it was really doing a number on my mental health and I just... didn't want to feel so sad and lonely all the time, yknow? I also wasn't going to blame them for it, because it's not their fault that our expectations of friendship were misaligned. it just happened. sometimes that's what life is. if any of them reach out to me, I respond and engage, and I do still occasionally seek them out. they're just not "top priority" for my energy or time anymore.
Hang in there and thanks for sharing.
thank you <3333 and thank you for sending this ask! I'm glad it's not just me who feels this way. I really did feel like I was going insane, lol
Wishing you all the best <3
#sorry this is so long asdl;fasdfasdf i'm hesitant to use a read more bc my blog theme is illegible#and i haven't figured out how to fix it#anyway. just rambling :D
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There Isn't
Part II / III / IV
Takes place a year after the end of the main game, after Solas has ~mysteriously~ disappeared, and a year before Trespasser. Both Descent and JoH take place after the end of the main game in this 'verse.
tw: pretty heavy discussion & break up BUT there is a planned happy ending and it's almost finished 😀 Also, this is a hella long post. my bad?
Lanil's Pieces Masterlist
Sigrid Gulsdotten is a very, shall we say, interesting choice of recruit, Inquisitor. Commander Cullen has had a great deal to say on the matter. Still, we've had interest from scholars and mages beside themselves at the chance to speak with a "stable" abomination. (Especially since the Chantry is too weak to forbid it with any force.) I believe that Gulsdotten, with a guide and some guards for her own protection, would be a valuable guest to send to select lectures and salons.
Ambassador Montilyet
You cannot be serious.
Commander Cullen
.
"This is a great idea, Ambassador!" Lanil walked, well, more like ran, into the war room on her first morning back from the Frostback Basin.
She was definitely not thinking of the conversation she'd had with Dorian about him leaving soon. Or that Varric hadn't even come back to Skyhold with them, instead heading straight to Amaranthine to catch a ship to the Free Marches. Or that the Iron Bull, Cole, and Cassandra were the last ones of her close-knit friend group still in Skyhold since Sera went off to Nevarra to meet with the newest Red Jenny, someone named Johi, to help 'kick arseholes in their holes'.
No, of course not. She was only and entirely excited by the missive in her hand that she'd almost forgotten about in the hectic mess of finding Ameridan and stopping yet another god-dragon-creature from stirring up shit. If only Solas could be here to see that people were beginning to care, to ask questions, about the Fade and Spirits! She herself couldn't wait to sit with Sigrid and get to know her and her teacher.
"My Lady?" Josephine startled in place, nearly dropping her writing tablet.
Cullen and Leliana also did a double-take at her sudden appearance, but Lanil didn't bother looking at them. Her attention was solely on Josephine. She slapped the paper down on the table and leaned across it towards Josephine.
"You're serious about this? The lectures and salons and universities?" Lanil demanded.
"Oh! You mean about Lady Gulsdotten. Enchanter Sigrid?"
"No, I don't think either of those work. You can ask later. But yes, about her and her teacher!"
"Her teacher?" Cullen repeated.
His tone sounded... off, but Josephine was riffling through papers and handing them over to Lanil. She snatched them and read through the invitations and requests eagerly.
"They've been pouring in since I sent out a few... discreet messages to a few more renowned professors and Enchanters," Josephine said with a strained smile. She glanced towards Cullen, who was suddenly standing at his full height, arms crossed over his chest, a frown slowly growing darker and heavier on his face. "We all assumed you didn't like the idea when you didn't reply."
"It wasn't exactly an emergency or a priority. The god-possessed dragon was a bit more pressing at the time. But this is a great idea! I'll ask Sigrid myself how she feels about it--"
"You cannot really be serious," Cullen interrupted.
Lanil finally noticed his expression and her eyes began to narrow. "Is there a problem, Commander?"
"A problem?! You used the words 'god possessed dragon' in the same breath as offering to send a possessed mage around Orlais for, what, tea and demon summoning?" Cullen snapped.
"If you noticed, she's not a dragon nor is she trying to be a god or summon demons," Lanil retorted. "She's a mage, an Avvar mage, and the Spirit is her teacher. This is a chance for people to understand Spirits and the Fade better. A chance that most mages across Thedas would never have otherwise."
"Unless they decide to use blood magic and possess themselves or others," Cullen said sharply. Lanil bared her teeth, ready to bite out something caustic.
"Excuse me, Inquisitor, Commander, we don't even know if she'll agree. Perhaps we could wait--" Josephine tried to interrupt, her voice gentle and soothing.
"It shouldn't be an option at all!" Cullen slapped his open palm on the table. "This is madness. If you must, have this Avvar abomination meet with our own scholars. In a small room. Far from anything. With a templar present."
Leliana's eyes closed. Josephine inhaled sharply. Lanil, however, slammed both her hands on the table and leaned across it, eyes burning silver.
"She is not an abomination."
"She is possessed. Of course she is. Don't be naive, Inquisitor."
"By your Chantry terms. Your Chantry rules," Lanil snarled. "In Avvar culture she is a mage. Her Spirit is her friend, her family."
"My Chantry? Did you forget you're part of the Inquisition? A Chantry organization?"
"Barely a Chantry organization! And I'm Dalish!"
"You were raised in a Circle!"
"And they were going to cut my soul in half! I'm Inquisitor because you broke the Chantry rules!"
Cullen threw up his hands and backed away from the table. "This is not the same."
"Josie, maybe we should--" Leliana murmured.
"No, we're not done here," Lanil snapped. "Ambassador, how soon can you organize this tour?"
"Oh, um, only a few--" Josephine stammered.
"You can't do this. I won't allow it." Cullen ordered firmly.
"You won't allow it?" Lanil hissed.
"As your Commander, I have to think about the safety of the people. Maybe you don't think she's dangerous, but I knew a mage who allowed a Spirit to possess him, and he blew up Kirkwall."
"Maybe he was right!" Lanil shouted. Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine all reared back. "Maybe it had nothing to do with the Spirit, maybe it did, but if you hadn't noticed, the world is always on the verge of exploding! If I had stayed there, if I had lived through the utter bullshit of the Gallows, it was called the Gallows, Commander, maybe I would've helped!"
"You can't possibly mean that," Cullen managed to force out, sounding strangled.
For a moment, Lanil wanted to stick to it. To plant both feet and stand firm. But it had been obstinacy more than belief that had her spitting out those words. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at a far wall.
"I... I don't know..." Lanil said, barely more calmly, her control in tatters. "Maybe not. I knew Anders, too. He was my friend once. I believe that he believed it was the only path he had. Maybe Justice pushed that in him, maybe they... they sickened each other. But some of what I've done here has been just as bloody, and I have as high a body count, if not higher. I didn't need to be possessed to do it."
"This was a war that you didn't start, it's not the same," Cullen argued, shaking his head. "And what of Varric? He knew Anders in Kirkwall. What did he think of your decision to bring Gulsdotten here?"
Lanil scowled fiercely. And was silent.
"Exactly. It's dangerous. It stops here, at Skyhold, where we can make sure--"
"No." Lanil tipped up her chin and met Cullen's gaze. "No. Ambassador, make the arrangements."
"Lanil--!"
"If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility. A single person gets hurt, and you'll have yourself a new Inquisitor when I leave to take accountability for it. I hope that assuages any misgivings, Commander." Lanil turned on her heel and left.
"Void take it, Lanil!"
Josephine and Leliana watched as Cullen followed right on her heels. Slowly, Josephine met Leliana's eyes. Leliana rubbed her temples and sighed.
"I really don't know what to do here. I didn't think it would turn out like this," Josephine said, rather unnerved and rattled.
"It was bound to happen eventually. You're going have to choose by yourself now."
"What?!"
"Who do you want to anger more, the Commander or the Inquisitor?" Leliana asked with a humorless smirk.
"Oh, dear Maker," Josephine whispered.
...
Lanil stormed towards the main doors. She was going to go and find Sigrid. Or Dorian. She paused. Sigrid was probably in the mage tower, but Dorian prefered the library in the Rotunda. Actually, Sigrid might be there, too. She turned abruptly left and headed that way.
A hand grabbed her elbow.
"Lanil, we were not done--"
"Yes, yes, we were."
Lanil yanked her arm away and glared up the foot of difference in height. She had never seen Cullen this angry, his frown a snarl that almost matched her own. The closest he'd been was when he'd told her about Samson, or anything to do with Samson. Which had her blood immediately boiling--not very difficult when she was already furious.
"You can't just walk out of a meeting and consider it closed."
"And yet, I did." Lanil jabbed her finger in the middle of his chest. "You pushed me there. Not allow? Not allow me, Cullen? I am not a child."
"I..." He stopped mid-word and looked around. There weren't many guests or visitors a year after Corypheus' defeat, but every single one of them was obviously hanging onto every word they said. "We should speak privately?"
"Fine." Lanil snapped and began walking towards the door to the Undercroft.
"My office would--"
"No. It's not private enough and you're not coming to my room." She ugly-snorted and shook her head. "That's right, my room. More than a year later."
"Lanil, you're not going to derail this conversation with that," Cullen muttered under his breath as they stomped their way down the stairs.
"Screw you, Cullen."
"Damn it, Lanil."
She glared at him hotly. He shouldered his way through the bottom door, scowling just as darkly.
"Commander! And the Inquisitor, too! Uh oh..." Dagna set down the tools and wiped off her hands on her leather apron. "Something is not right in the state of the world again."
"Another darkspawn god coming down on our heads, Inquisitor?" Herrit asked, mostly confused but a little concerned despite himself.
"Nothing like that. This is rude, but could you two get out. Until we're done..." she glanced at Cullen and then back at them, "discussing."
"You got it, boss. C'mon, Herrit, let's go enjoy the sunshine."
"There's sunshine coming through that big hole there."
"Okay, let's go enjoy it anywhere not here." Dagna shoved and pushed Herrit past the angrily seething couple, then up the stairs and out the door.
The moment it closed, Cullen dragged both hands through his hair, wincing when it caught on his gauntlets. Lanil crossed her arms, her stance wide, and glared silently. Furiously. Somewhere in the back of her head, deep in the pit of her stomach, she felt it coming.
Mythal, let her be wrong. ...little odd praying to Mythal after meeting her in person...
Cullen finally spoke, "Let's get the easy thing out of the way--" Lanil snorted and barely kept from tossing her head like a horse, too. "I said I wanted our relationship private, and you agreed. Moving into your room is not private."
"That was over a year ago. Everyone in the Inquisition knows by now, so who cares?"
"I do!" Cullen inhaled sharply. "It's one thing for our people to know, but it's another for... for everyone else. Rumors and gossip, fine, but it's not gossip anymore when a dozen nosy nobles see me follow you up to your private rooms every night."
"But you do sleep up there almost every night! You just sneak in like a damned thief instead of my lover."
"You're the Inquisitor! You need to be above reproach--"
"So you'll fuck me, but won't publicly stand beside me," Lanil retorted dryly.
"Don't talk about us like that. It is not like that and you know it," Cullen snapped.
"Do I? Do I really? Sure feels like you're ashamed of us being an us," Lanil said through gritted teeth. "Are you scared your Templar friends will judge you, or your precious Chantry?"
"Lanil, now you're being an ass."
"Yes. Yes, I am. I'm pissed."
"We can talk like adults--"
"Argue. We are arguing like adults. And I, for one, am an angry adult who doesn't like being patronized."
"Then, stop throwing my faith in my face like it's something that makes me less, or like it makes me love you any less!"
"Your faith has drilled into your brain that me, and all my people, not ours, my people can't be trusted. That Spirits can only be evil, awful, destructive things! You know that's wrong! But every time, every time this comes up, you're suspicious and close-minded first!"
"Because every time it ends badly!"
"That's obviously a lie since the Avvar have been doing things their way for hundreds or thousands of years, Cullen! Sigrid and her teacher are not violent. They aren't sickened. They choose to be together, to work and learn together, they are family and they keep each other safe, and they keep others safe. They know things and understand things about Spirits and the Fade in a way Circles and Dalish don't."
"You said yourself she was supposed to get rid of the Spirit and she left because she refused to. She's bucking the very tradition you're defending."
"The augur said that some mages never lose their Spirits. The same kind of mages that your Chantry brands with lyrium! Maddox, and people like Maddox, like Anders' Karl, they didn't have to be Tranquils. They didn't have to die. If we had lived with Spirits like the Avvar--"
"You can't be serious," Cullen scoffed, turning away and rubbing his face.
"Say that one fucking more time, Cullen, I swear!" Lanil dug her hands in her hair and growled. "Yes, I am serious! Me and Solas used to talk about it. What kind of world would it be if there was no Veil, if the Fade was like... like a state of being, like the weather, always around us. What would it take for Spirits to live among us peacefully. I used to imagine it, all the things he'd tell me, all the places and Spirits he'd seen. I want that world, Cullen. A world with less fear and more magic, more wonder. Learning from the Avvar, living a little more like they do, we could get closer to that."
"Worshipping Spirits as gods and sticking them in dragons to destroy us all?" Cullen asked tightly.
"That was one clan. Fen'Harel's bloody teeth, Cullen, some Templars rape mages, but you don't see me calling you a rapist."
"For fuck's sake, Lanil." Cullen punched the nearest bench and Dagna's tools rattled. "That is out of line."
"No, it's not. Or you wouldn't be so damned angry about it."
"How much of this sudden crusade to make the world more like the Fade is because of Gulsdotten, and how much of it is you hoping Solas is going to come back?"
Lanil froze, eyes wide and mouth dropping open. "What?" she wheezed.
"I know you miss him, but he left," Cullen said, his voice softer, his gaze heavy. As if he was being gentle. As if his words were fair. "He left, he didn't say good-bye, and he's not coming back. Making friends with every Spirit and abomination you meet isn't going to bring him back."
Her rage was no longer a fire. It was lightning. A storm. It raged and howled and thundered through every nerve ending. Solas once said her magic felt overwhelming, that if he listened, it drowned out everything else. She understood what he meant now.
The next thing that came out of her mouth was going to shatter something fundamental. Break it perhaps beyond repair. She felt the words burning her throat, her tongue, scraping at the back of her teeth.
"How much are you worried about another Kirkwall, and how much are you terrified of me?" she asked.
Cullen stepped back, his face a picture of bewildered shock. "What, I'm not--"
"What if I meet the right Spirit, Commander? What if I meet a teacher like Sigrid's who promises to show me the Fade in a way I can't see it alone? What if it promises to teach me lost Elvehn magic? What if one night, while you're sleeping next me, I say yes?"
Cullen turned white.
"That's what you're scared of. You're scared that Sigrid is an excuse for me to try it. You're terrified I'll become an abomination. That you'll make up one morning and a demon will be lying beside you. You don't trust me."
"Lanil, that isn't true. Of course I trust you," Cullen said. He was shaking his head, but his skin was too pale, too sweaty, his gaze nowhere near hers.
"You can't even look at me." Cullen's shoulders went tight. "You will always be scared of that part of me. Cullen, we can't work if you hate what I am."
His head snapped up and he stepped towards her, paused, and then crossed the short distance in long, determined strides. Gently, he cupped her face in both his hands, something he'd done a thousand times. His hands were shaking like the last leaves on a tree in winter. But his thumbs traced along the lines of her vallaslin. Gentle. Loving. Her chest cracked down the middle.
"This is--I do not and can never hate you, Lanil. This has nothing to do with how I feel about you."
"A part of me is of the Fade and the Fade is in me. My soul and whatever Spirits are made of... we're like... like cousins. Family. And you hate it. You'll never trust it. So you'll never fully trust me."
"Lanil. Don't do this."
"We're over."
His forehead bumped hers and she felt wooden. Empty. Like maybe she'd already carved out where he fit inside her. A hole in her chest where she'd kept him.
Vhenan. How many times had that words slipped past her lips to brand his?
"I'm the Inquisitor," she forced past numb lips that ached for the shape of different words.
"Lane."
"You're the Commander."
She gently took his hands. Pulled them away. Thanked the Creators that he wore gloves so his skin, his pulse, were hidden under leather and metal.
"Lanil. Don't. We can still talk about this."
"Don't worry, Commander," she smiled, a useless emotionless thing, as she met Cullen's too-wide eyes, "you don't have to worry about my reputation now."
She dropped his hands and it didn't feel like her fingers, her hands, her arms were moving. Someone else's feet encased in leather boots scraped over stone. Someone else's legs moved, carried someone else's body up the stairs.
"Lanil, there has to be..."
He couldn't even finish it. Because how could he? There has to be a compromise? A middle ground?
"There isn't."
She closed the door before he could make another sound. Her footsteps echoed. One after another. One more. And then another. The sounds in the main hall rang weirdly through her ears. Like trying to listen through thick glass. She didn't remember how she made it through, or how long it took to get to the doors. She didn't remember crossing the courtyard down to the stables.
But she saw Faith. Shining white and silver and beautiful. Cloven hooves picking their way delicately over grass and dirt to stand in front of her.
"Could we run, my friend? Could you take me anywhere but here?" she asked. Her lips still felt numb. Her skin icy. Faith lowered herself enough for Lanil to slip onto her back. "Ma serannas, falon. Ma ghilana mir atish'an."
When Faith ran, it felt like flying. The halla leapt with a grace and strength that belied her tiny frame and slender legs. They rushed past the guards so fast, they didn't have enough time to see Lanil's face let alone salute. She tucked herself as low and close as possible on Faith's back, her face whipped by the soft white hair stinging and sharp against Lanil's eyelids. Down her cheeks.
She gritted her teeth and let the halla guide her. Mountain air, the smell of wild heather and gorse crushed under hoof, the cries of wild birds; she thought of nothing else. No words. No broken expressions and brown eyes too dark and too bright. Just Skyhold's mountains and Faith.
It wasn't quite dinner time when Lanil returned. She gave Faith a few carrot and dried apple pieces from Dennet's secret stash. With a gentle rub of her bony chin to Lanil's head, mussing her already tangled hair, Faith went into the barn. Probably to ruin a bale of hay to lay indolently over it like a queen. Lanil had heard Dennet curse about it plenty of times. Finally, Lanil went on her way. There was someone, a few someones, she needed to speak with.
...
"Lady Lavellan? Lady Montilyet told me... My lady?!" Therilla gasped, eyes wide and mouth dropping open.
Lanil grunted, kicked the bed's headboard, and then cursed.
"Yes, I asked her to send you. Would you mind helping me pack for a long journey? In those bags there?" Lanil waved at the tattered and weather-beaten saddlebags in question.
"Um. Of course, but. Why are you stripping the bed? And moving the furniture?
Lanil huffed. All her sheets and blankets had been thrown onto the balcony. Her bureau and desk had switched places. The bed was halfway across the room, where Lanil was now standing.
"I realized I have that whole... um... loft? Indoor balcony? Up there. And I'm going to put my bed there. Make room for some sofas and a table. A little sitting room for guests, like what Vivienne did for her room when she was here."
"That sounds like a lovely idea. Perhaps I could go ask for some help?"
"No need." Lanil raised both her hands, scowled, and then hefted the entire bed up onto the loft area with a loud thud as her hands glowed blue. "I just wanted the right angle for it. Didn't want to accidentally break a leg. The bed's leg, not mine."
"I see. And the bedclothes?"
"I was half hoping the wind would take them. You can give them away." Lanil shrugged and started up the ladder. "I'm going to Val Royeaux to shop with Vivienne."
"Shop. You're going shopping with Madame de Fer?"
"Yup. It'll all be sent here. Make sure they make it look nice, won't you? I trust your taste better than mine. If Josephine wants to help, I don't mind, either, but I think Leliana will officially be in Val Royeaux as Divine by then. Any day now, she said."
"You won't do that yourself? The arranging?" Therilla asked. She slowly opened the saddlebags. Everything Lanil owned could probably fit inside.
"Nope. After Val Royeaux, I'm going around with Sigrid Gulsdotten to sit in on some of her salons. Dorian wanted to see a few of the lectures himself, so it works out great. Then, Dorian, the Iron Bull, and I are going to meet up with Varric in Amaranthine and we're going to the Free Marches together. We already sent him a raven, so he should wait for us, or he'll meet us in Kirkwall and show us around. After that, I'll escort Dorian to the border, I want a glimpse of Tevinter, but that's it. Then, I'm going to Wycome to make sure everything really is stable, visit where my clan..." She broke off slightly, hands freezing mid-air where she held a stack of books, then continued with that same overly perky voice, "Of course, since I'll be travelling, I should go to Nevarra to visit the Enchanters' College they're rebuilding, help out a bit. I'll probably stop at a few of our holdings and keeps around Orlais and Ferelden, too, make sure everyone is satisfied and doing well. Check out any rumors of rifts or demons or darkspawn. I'm pretty excited about it."
The entire time, Lanil was pushing and shoving her bed into the perfect position. Then, came down to start throwing clothes in the bags while Therilla rushed to fold and pack them neatly. She paced to and fro, grabbing books from the shelf, her portable writing desk, more clothes. Barely stopping to breathe, all the while with a fixed and crooked smile on her face. Flitting about like a bird branch to branch.
Therilla huffed and a frizz of hair fluttered over her nose. She was surrounded by clothes and books and a strange number of knives for a mage. Perhaps she cut a lot of herbs?
"What brought this on, my lady? It seems like you're planning to be gone years! Is the Comman--"
"A year at most. Before I forget." Lanil went into her closet and came back out with a large satchel. It was mostly empty, but it felt like it weighed more than a trunk filled with bricks of gold.
A pair of gloves. A handful of styluses worn down to the nub. A tin filled with a solution of elderflower and oakmoss that he swore to everyone else he didn’t use. Papers covered in bold, too-heavy handwriting not her own. Books with feathers or ribbons or dried elfroot for bookmarks, whatever had been nearby. Letters from South Reach carefully kept in their envelopes to preserve them as long as possible. The coin they passed back and forth. Slipped into a pocket or under a pillow or in a boot.
He'd laughed that time. He hadn't been able to figure out how she'd managed to get in it there while he was wearing it.
The satchel dropped with a sad little rattle and thwap.
She was not going to morbidly and symbolically compare it to the past eighteen months.
"That should be returned to the Commander's office. Maybe at dinner or before breakfast, when no one notices."
"Oh. Oh." Therilla's brown eyes glistened and her hand covered her mouth.
"It's nothing. I have a journey to finish packing for." Lanil grinned and spun on her heel. "Do you know what the weather is like in Val Royeaux?"
"Sunny, my lady. The weather should hold for a few weeks yet," Therilla murmured.
"Excellent."
...
Lanil hefted the saddlebags a little higher and shoved through the door into the main hall. Therilla had offered to help carry, but Lanil was more than capable of doing it alone. They weren't even full. Early dawn light trickled through the high stained-glass windows. Soon enough, the hall would be filled with so much sunlight it'd be impossible to walk through without squinting. But for now, the stone beneath her feet took on an unearthly quality, a pearly sheen that reminded Lanil of the Fade.
Dorian met her at the door and raised an eyebrow at her armful.
"You realize you have paid servants to do that for you?"
Lanil scowled at him. With an exasperated sigh, he took hold of the wide strap nearest him. She scowled a little harder, but they walked out the front doors with the saddlebags hanging between them. Funnily enough, even at this early hour, there was a large crowd forming at the front gates. By the time they got close enough to hear the words, Lanil also picked out a familiar voice. And then she saw his blond hair, curlier than ever, and dark fur ruff in the middle of the crowd.
She was surprised dust didn't rise around her boots, she reined herself to a stop so fast. Dorian jerked to a startled halt beside her.
"Lane, what--" He stopped, concern creasing his forehead deeply. She was staring at him, mute and ashen-faced, lips pressed into a thin, white line. He turned back to the crowd and saw Cullen bracing his hands on his hips and arguing heatedly with an Avvar stranger.
"I need to--stables. Go to the stables," Lanil said hoarsely.
"I knew this sudden plan to travel like a migrating goose was rushed and odd. Darling, you can't just run off after a fight," Dorian scolded. She didn't even bother frowning. Just stared at him. Slowly, the vague niggles of amusement ebbed. "Lanil, it wasn't just a fight, was it?"
Still nothing.
"Inquisitor!"
Lanil flinched, then drew herself up straight and square-shouldered so fast Dorian almost missed the first, involuntary motion. He turned to see Cullen striding towards them as suspicions mounted. Seeing the untamed curls and too dark circles in Cullen's wan and weary face more than confirmed them. The way both of them resolutely met eyes with entirely blank expressions, facades as perfectly painted as any Orlesian mask, made Dorian want to sigh. Or cuff them both 'round the head. Or shake what happened out of them.
Of course Lanil was running. Of course Cullen would say nothing.
"Commander," Lanil greeted blandly.
"Care to explain why--" Cullen stopped mid-sentence and stared at the bags hanging between Dorian and Lanil. "What are you doing?"
Dorian rolled his eyes skyward. Of course Lanil was running and hadn't warned Cullen.
"Leaving."
"Andraste's ass, Lane," Dorian whispered. He cleared his throat, though Cullen couldn't tear his eyes from the saddlebags. "We're accompanying Gulsdotten for the start of her tour before heading to the Free Marches. I will be going on to Tevinter after that."
"I said I'd take responsibility. The least I could do if be there to take the blast if Sigrid loses control," Lanil stated. Inflection still flat. Tightly and completely controlled. Cullen frowned darkly, but Dorian could see his hands shaking before he crossed his arms over his chest.
"No one likes a matyr, darling. Stop being so dramatic. We'll all be fine," Dorian said smoothly.
"We're going to be late," Lanil retorted, turning again towards the stables.
"What about the bear?" Cullen gritted out.
Lanil's facade broke as her head tilted. "The bear?"
"That man over there brought a bear and claims you know all about it," he said, waving towards the Avvar man.
Dorian couldn't help smirking at the bare-chested, fur-wearing man amid all the armored and multi-layered soldiers. For all their oddities, at least the Avvar knew how to appreciate the male chest. It was too early for the courtiers to be out & about, which was both disappointing for the scandalized twittering he was surely missing out on, but very fortunate for Lanil and Cullen's sake. Who, despite their carefully dull expressions and monitered voices, were as obvious as the Breach-made scar in the sky.
Suddenly Lanil's eyes lit up as the Avvar man neared them and she almost smiled.
"Storvacker!" she exclaimed.
Dorian couldn't quite repress his grin. "They actually sent Storvacker here?"
"You knew about this?" Cullen demanded. "Both of you?"
"Of course." Lanil tilted up her chin, mulish and stubborn. "I made the judgement. Storvacker is your agent now, Commander. Treat her with all due respect."
Cullen sputtered. The Avvar nodded to Lanil and grinned, all wide and toothsome and handsome. Alas that the only Avvar in Tevinter were those ne'er-do-wells causing mayhem with the goat-throwing Movran.
"Augur, it is a pleasure to see you again," the Avvar greeted.
Alas that this one only had eyes for women, it seemed.
Lanil nodded and then paused, head tilting again as she squinted.
"I know you. You were the first one up the wall at the Fortress."
"Tommar, augur. It's not often lowlanders tell us apart," Tommar said, obviously looking her up and down.
"You did an impressive job. Of course I remember. Where is Storvacker?" Lanil asked without a pause. Not noticing either Tommar's sudden prideful posturing or Cullen burying his face in his hand.
"Could this morning get any worse," Cullen whispered hoarsely.
Dorian's heart went out to him.
"She's down at the river, augur. She'll come up whenever she's ready," Tommar said. "I could take you to her now? I volunteered to come visit your Sky's Hold and offer you my services."
Dorian would not laugh. He caught the look on Cullen's face and, no, he really wouldn't laugh. Cullen met Dorian's eyes. Dorian hadn't seen him look like that since he'd watched Lanil training to face spiders again while she was slowly overwhelmed by her own panic.
Heartbroken and unable to say a thing.
"I'm about to leave Skyhold for the foreseeable future, Tommar, but you're welcome to the Inquisition. Commander Rutherford here is the leader of our forces, you should speak with him. About joining and Storvacker." She waved a hand at Cullen.
Tommar sized Cullen up, arms crossed. Cullen raised an eyebrow.
"My services were to you alone, augur. I'll return to Stone-Bear Hold once Storvacker is settled."
Lanil blinked. "All right." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Faith!" She shoved her saddlebags into Dorian's arms. He oofed loudly. She pointed at Tommar and ordered briskly, "You, with me. Dorian, I'll meet you by the river."
She ran past without a single glance back. Tommar shrugged with a grin and jogged after her. What was left of the crowd watched her leave before slowly dispersing, all muttering and whispering and carefully not looking at Cullen. He stood too still in the courtyard, hand clenching and unclenching and clenching into fists at his sides. Dorian hefted the saddlebags over a shoulder and approached him.
"Whatever it was, she'll come back," Dorian said quietly. Cullen startled, as if he had forgotten anyone else was around. "She'll come back and then you two can figure things out."
"No," Cullen whispered. "I don't think we will."
"If I may ask--" Dorian tried to ask without sounding like he prying. He didn't get far.
"You may not."
Dorian sighed. "I suppose this is our farewell, Commander. You are a good man and I am glad I got to know you, I hope you know that."
"I do now. Thank you." Cullen closed his eyes and his head lowered. "Please, watch out for her. As much as she'll allow."
"For as long as I'm able," Dorian agreed. He reached out to grip Cullen's shoulder. "She's the best friend I ever had, and that means... more than I can describe."
"Good. I..." Cullen broke off. His voice too thick and low. "Good. Safe travels, Dorian."
"Commander... Cullen, you are also are a good friend. Quite unexpectedly."
Cullen's shoulders tightened briefly, then he abruptly marched away. Dorian's hand left hanging in mid-air. Dorian frowned at his broad back, wishing there was any way, any words he could say, to help. In the end, he could only turn towards the stables and get started on those safe travels.
Part II
#so i should just post it on ao3 at this point#sigh#Lanil's Pieces#dai ficlet#dai cullen rutherford#dai lavellan#cullen x lavellan#Break Up fic#BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING#... eventually uhhh#it was supposed to be 3 parts#it is NOT#also lanil is a petty asshole#and cullen has trauma/indoctrination he needs to stop ignoring...
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Vindieziel Wooksvagen:
The Nazi Pinata
There's a phrase i use all the time to encapsulate those insane moments when life spirals out of control like a freebasing pimp on the freeway. When life is on its way to smack me, fuck me and steal my money, i just bend over, smile and say,
"It is what it is."
I love it. You literally can't say anything more. Complain all you want, but what good will it do?
It is. What it is.
Heres an example of a great use of this timeless classic.
I bought a used car. Its A jetta TDI. Its a great drive. Fast as hell. Powerful. Handles like a fucking dream, the way that fine German cars are designed to. You could take this thing on the autobahn and it would cling to every curve like silk on a supermodel.
The car has been running great, mechanically, which is EXACTLY what i wanted. I prayed for that. I asked God for it.
I said, "God, give me A mechanically sound car that hauls ass. And please give me a ripped guardian angel who can keep up. I can install my own stereo deck. Amen"
And i left it at that.
God answers prayers.
With a sense of humor.
This spunky little German is my Nazi pinata. Just one bad surprise after another.
Here's the conversation that's been going through my head every day for the last 4 days since Snowmageddon '23 besieged the citizens of Portland.
I preface this with the fact that ive owned this car less than 2 months.
Me: Gosh...Driving around on a tire steadily leaking is bad enough. Now i have to do it on ice, like... what the fuck am i? a German figure skater with a burst breast implant?
wait .... i can pump it up ....i have a portable air compressor. Im good there....
There we go. Tires pumped. Im as pumped as my tire. Pump up the jams, and Lets go. Driving a diesel on ice makes me feel like im on Ice Road Truckers.
BRING IT ONNNN....
>a few minutes later, staring at the low tire air indicator on the dash, while slipping and sliding down thick sheets of ice that were streets yesterday<
Inner voice : Change the bloody tire...?
Me: Well... i can't.... there's........ no tire places open ... everything's Frozen ... gotta let it go...
IV: You have a bloody spare, you idiot! You could change your own tire, right??? You're as worthless as pig shit on an oil pan aren't you??
Me: Well no ... I'm not .... i could change my own tire...
>lightbulb< I have a spare! SAVED!!!
... wait ....
oh no ....
IV: Where in the bloody hell is the sodding tire jack???
Me: ummm ......
Damn.
IV: Well shit to that idea. Good thing you thought to check for that at the dealership when you bought the car, you fuckin muppet!
Me, somewhat frazzled: Okay, but i got roadside assistance? ATT? Farmers? AAA???? They could come out to put the spare on for me... yes! Ill call them! One of them HAS to be able to make this happen ....
IV: Ha!! Guess what? They have the EXACT BLOODY SAME service provider pool. No responses to level 2 requests. Emergencies only. Blizzard trumps all like its trying to make Oregon less than great again. Foiled again!
>this is where i start slowly breaking down as my inner Chef Ramsay lets loose with a tirade<
Oh hey, don't forget the check engine lights still on, and it will beep incessantly like a digital chinese water torture device.
>anxiety reaching critical levels<
And the driver side handle is still busted from the LAST ice storm, so good luck on those contortionist skills. Every day, you'll open up the driver side door through the back door, from the inside...
Get creative and think thin, you chunky monkey.
Lets add 14 inches of ice and snow to add a degree of coordination challenges as you're trying to get on the road for work, Slippy mcLegstretchy
>anxiety at maximum capacity<
As you settle in with broken seat warmers, take some more snow and smile as you choke on it.
Mother Natures on the rag and you're her bloody tampon.
>critical point reached. Its time to scream<
As i slide down an icy urban Slip'n'Slide, im minnowing back behind a city bus doing a fishtail -- wait no ... i guess its a whale-tail....
...lets be accurate....
...I think to myself .... it is what it is.
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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*
summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.
pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer
content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed!
word count: 5.4k
A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best.
request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌
can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?
masterlist
"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him.
"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't.
"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh.
it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals.
"you should bring one of your other friends."
"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world.
"I thought that was just me." he says.
"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."
you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.
"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?"
Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep.
you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up.
he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't.
you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.
eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other.
"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open.
"yeah?"
"go to bed."
"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift.
"I could hear your breathing change."
"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds.
"I wanted to say goodnight."
it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.
"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound.
"now I can't because you made it weird."
"how did I make it weird?"
"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.
"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?"
"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated.
"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.
a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."
"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours.
he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do.
Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship.
the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing.
which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs.
as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate.
you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge.
your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart.
you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it.
you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over.
you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again.
you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing.
you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest.
...
Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things.
he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath.
every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars.
truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most.
there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle.
after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out.
and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull.
he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate.
"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head.
he definitely has a concussion.
"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway.
"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun."
Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold.
he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor.
he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious.
he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know.
Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank.
it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.
"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"
...
you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key.
"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could.
"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called.
of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.
when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed.
"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.
"hi."
"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here.
"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me."
you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second.
"Y/N, I'm really fine."
"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed.
"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully.
"sounds like a nightmare."
"it is." he cracks up.
"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?"
"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too."
"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm.
"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."
"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter.
"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her."
"oof." you wince.
"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"
"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did.
"yeah." he avoids your gaze.
"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard.
"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares.
you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder.
Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking.
"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret.
"you already said that."
"shut up."
"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks.
"whatever. you care about me, too."
he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you."
your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"
"mhmm." he hums.
"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas.
"I'd hope not."
"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud.
"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you.
"were you thinking about anything in particular?"
"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.
"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care.
"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you."
"like?" now you're intrigued.
"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down.
"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?"
Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um."
you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be.
"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you."
it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal.
"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed.
"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you."
it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more.
your heart swells.
"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.
"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder.
"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way.
when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look.
"I'm in love with you, too."
his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"
"yes." you nod.
he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable.
"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it.
"I'd say so, yeah."
he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9.
"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly.
you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead.
there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before.
never like this.
one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his.
the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact.
you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans.
"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in.
"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection.
"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you."
"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer."
his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you.
soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other.
"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast.
you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material.
your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god."
you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too.
Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now.
"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow.
you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.
"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..."
you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.
he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth.
before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans.
"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down.
"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."
he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully.
"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like."
"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop."
"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines.
"mhmm."
"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something."
"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers.
"I'm a virgin." you say.
Spencer frowns. "really?"
"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful."
"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"
"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry.
"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence.
"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?"
"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency.
"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts.
"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands.
"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face.
"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you.
you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back.
"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting.
"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly.
"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop."
"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort.
"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.
he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock.
his hand finds your ass, squeezes it.
"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin.
"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect."
you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum."
Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too."
you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement.
"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan.
"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high.
it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions.
you collapse fully, him still inside.
neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it.
"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out.
"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird.
"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy.
"we should try multiple times."
he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?"
he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?"
"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate.
"yeah."
“good.”
taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#baby spence#mgg#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#matthew gray gubler
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