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#i tried to keep a lot of the details in this vague
mauvecherie-writes · 13 hours
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duality: l.hamilton
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pairing: lewis hamilton x black journalist!reader
summary: it’s two years on since and then a lot about your dynamic has changed. things are official and everyone is still none the wiser …
tags: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, extremely sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, dom/sub elements, spit, choking, some slight edging, aftercare.
w.c: 4.5K
reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @emjayewrites @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @angelinaevans @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew
previous part: super soaker.
Your friends loved a good gossip session and tonight’s topic as you sat in the exclusive club ‘Lounge 418’ was who had the best dick game in Hollywood. You had very little input considering you were still reaching the heights of your popularity as a journalist and you barely paid attention to the couple of men who had tried to get some type of access to you and it was going to be denied each time.
“The athletes though.” Marie smirked as the rest of the table hummed in agreement. “The toxicity adds a little sweetness to it.” She added which caused you to giggle. Chanel turned her body to face yours.
“Aren’t they all in your DM’s anyway? A fine ass woman talking about them in detail. I know that gives them an ego boost.”
It does. they messaged you all the time, wanting to quiz your knowledge in person. An arrogance that annoyed the hell out of you so you never replied. The only one who ever caught your eye was Lewis and it worked in his favour because he approached you accordingly. You had posted a podcast episode recapping on the events of his race in Brazil in 2021. As a long time fan of his - that was the race that sparked your love for him all over again.
The way you had spoken so passionately about him and his career, defending his right to the championship. Lewis had sent you a message thanking you for your support. It was short and sweet but your crush on him drove you to give him an answer then everything snow balled from there. That one episode changed your life for the next two and a half years.
When your relationship initially began, it was strictly casual sex but things got intense pretty quickly and the NDA was scrapped when things became more official between you. However, the both of you loved and respected each other’s privacy thus no one, even your closest friends knew.
So lost within your mind, you had forgotten that you were the focus of the conversation until Lewis’s sport was mentioned, your head snapped upwards.
“What about that F1 guy you’re obsessed with?”
Your cheeks warmed as a sense of bashfulness filled you. “What about him?”
“Has he ever slid into your DM’s?”
“I mean…” You shrugged your shoulders as you sipped on your French 75. “He was pretty chill and he was thanking me for my support for him for my podcast episode.”
“And that was it?” Marie raised her eyebrow and a small smirk playing on her face.
“We spoke here and there but that was about it.” You replied, trying to keep it as vague as possible. You remembered how flirty he was and how you had gravitated towards him. Your crush did quite a chunk of heavy lifting but Lewis was a natural charmer and he invoked feelings within you that had thought were gone. He brought them out and they haven’t dissipated since.
“He just looks like an absolute sweetheart. I don’t think he’d be that freaky though - seems like the vanilla type.” Your friend Vanessa commented. “Not that there's anything wrong with Vanilla.” She added.
“Nah, I say it’s the sweethearts you need to be on the lookout for. One minute, they’re feeding your strawberries and the next, they’re eating your pussy from the back and their thumb slipping into your ass.”
“That was oddly specific Marie.” Chanel raised her eyebrow with a grimace which caused all of you to burst out laughing. You hid your face behind your glass with a smile on your face.
As the alcohol flowed so did the topics and Lewis was no longer a focus which caused you to relax. You were beginning to think about him too much even though you had been with him in the morning before he left.
Then your phone buzzed in your bag. You placed your drink down and took your phone out and a message notification was on the screen.
🏎️💨: I see you.
You looked up from your phone and tried to search the crowds in the lounge but it was too dimly lit.
You: Lol okay, Mr Creeper. Where do you see me from?
🏎️💨: I’m a few tables ahead of you to the right. I saw trying to look for me. I’m in the blue cap with the TH tracksuit.
As soon as you read the description of his appearance, you quickly spotted him and you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. His attempts at disguising himself in public were always terrible and him dressed top to bottom in a Tommy Hilfiger two piece was certainly not doing him any favours.
You: You are terrible at hiding yourself lol. You’re staring right at me.
You: Also, what are you doing here??? I thought you were having a quiet night until I came to your place.
🏎️💨: The boys dragged me out. They say I haven’t been out in a while. I didn’t know we were on our way here until we were outside.
🏎️💨: Come and say hi.
“Who are you texting that’s making you smile like that?” Marie as she tried to snoop, looking down at your phone. You quickly locked your screen and placed your phone back into your bag.
“Nobody.” You smiled at her as you got up. Smiling at everyone, “I just saw someone, I’m gonna say go say hi and I’ll be back.”
Your friends watched you as you walked away from your table, their eyes widening when they see the men sitting at the table.
As you drew closer, your smile could not be stopped as you saw him sitting there on top of the booth, his legs spread. You could spot his rainbow coloured pearl necklace from the top of the track jacket.
With a small wave to the other men, you made it in front of Lewis, standing in between his legs.
“You look good enough to eat.” He mumbled in your ear as you hugged him.
“You look good too.” You replied with a soft giggle. His head turned slightly into your neck and placed a kiss in the depression of your collarbone through the fabric of your top.
Your sweet spot.
You almost moaned but your will power compelled you to pull away.
“Are you allowed to hug me like that in public?” You softly asked him.
“Anything I say goes and I wanted that hug. I haven’t seen you since this morning.” He licked his lips as he let his eyes fall down to your midriff. It was like he could see himself back in your bed this morning. You tapped his thigh so he could focus on your face instead and once he held your gaze and sighed, you rolled your eyes.
“Always in the gutter.” You commented.
“You’re in there with me.” He threw back at you with a smirk. With his grip on your forearm, he pulled you closer in between his legs. Feeling his warmth had you taking a deep breath as he stared at you without word.
“So what’s on the agenda? Everyone’s looking at us, they’re gonna pick up on it.”
“It’s been two years, let them speculate.”
“You know now that I’ve seen you, I just want to leave now and my girls are gonna ask questions.”
“Tell them what you want.” He said. “In about thirty minutes, you’re gonna meet me out front and we’ll go back to my place.”
“What are we doing at your place?” You asked as you played with his zipper.
“You’ll find out when we get there but make sure you book a hair appointment soon.”
“Jesus Christ.” You breathed out as you let his words sink into your bones.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay … Sir.”
“Good girl.”
God, the urge to kiss him was strong within you but instead you pulled away from him and got back to reality. You patted his chest before you finally withdrew and went back to your table.
“What in the hell was that?!” Chanel exclaimed. “You were trying to play coy with us but you knew that Lewis Hamilton was going to be here?!”
“Yeah, friends my ass.” Vanessa snickered
“First of all, I didn’t know he was going to be here.” You spoke as you reached for the bottle of fresh champagne on the table.
“Was he the one messaging you?” “Is this the first time you’ve seen him in a social setting?” “Girl what the hell was that? Y’all were all up on each other?!” “Yeah, what was that about?”
“What is with all these damn questions?” You tried to laugh them off and focused on drinking. All your friends narrowed their eyes at you.
“This is not over.” Maria pointed at you.
“Whatever.” You playfully smacked her hand away from your direction. And for the next thirty minutes, you had tried to focus back your attention on your friends but since talking to Lewis, your body was riddled with anticipation.
Not wanting to wait any longer, you quickly said your goodbyes, they playfully jeered you as you walked away. You rolled your eyes laughing at their remarks. When you got outside, Lewis’s bodyguard was waiting outside of his truck to open the door for you.
You greeted him softly as you slid into the truck and sat yourself beside your boyfriend, who placed a light kiss on your cheek. You melted into the side of his body as you rode from the lounge to his property.
When you got up to his penthouse, you were in awe of the interior design. You especially loved his floor to ceiling windows that gave you the most perfect view of the New York skyline. Your toes wiggled against the heated floors as you had taken your heels off the moment you entered his home.
You were standing by the window when Lewis came behind you, holding a small glass of wine.
“You always said that you’d wanted to taste one of my wines from my infamous wine fridge.”
“I always found it interesting that you’re not much of a drinker but every home you own has a wine fridge and a small bar.”
“I like the aesthetic of it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I can’t cater to the people around me who do.”
You took a sip of the beverage and you almost moaned at the richness of the wine hitting your tastebuds. You had always been a wine snob and Lewis indulged in your tastes by buying you expensive wines that you wouldn’t even think of.
“I can’t believe you got me a bottle of Burgundy.”
“You’d been raving about it for a week when you saw that it was being auctioned. Personally I don’t see what the fuss is about.” His last comment caused you to laugh. The bottle was a Chateau Latour from 1984, matured for forty years and you had wanted it since your first big paycheck. The bottle being auctioned was a blessing in disguise but you always talked yourself out actually spending close to £500 for it.
Lewis bought it for you without a blink.
You took another sip, a larger one than the last.
“It has very intense notes. It’s herby but has a lot of fruity notes coming to the top. Black cherries and blackberries is what I taste the most but it leaves an earthy note when it’s done.”
“You sound so hot when you talk like that.” Lewis softly groaned which caused you to blush. You placed the nearly empty wine glass down as he encroached into your personal space. You tried to ignore the way that he was staring you down which was causing your heart to beat incredibly fast. You had always reacted like this to him and you honestly thought that was never going to change.
You licked your lips as he cupped your cheeks in his hands and caressed your skin with his thumbs.
“I just love hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about.” He traced your bottom lip with his thumb as he dropped one of his hands to your waist and pulled you into his body.
“Thank you.” You whispered, admiring his beauty up close. You loved the small beauty spot that sat high on his cheekbone and the double nose piercings with diamonds that caught the light from all angles. His lashes were long and curled and as he looked at you - they seemed to be touching his cheeks.
“Want a taste of the wine?” You asked with a little smirk on your lips as Lewis moved his hand to the back of your head.
“Yeah, give me a taste.” He mumbled before he leaned down and captured your mouth. Lewis moaned softly as he savoured the residue of the wine still on your lips. You couldn’t move your head much as he had moved his hands to cup your face in his palms as he controlled the kiss. You melted into his hold, silently begging for more as you held onto his wrists trying to stabilise yourself.
You nibbled on his bottom lip which caused him to growl, he walked you backwards until you were pressed into the window behind you. Finally, he moved his hands away from your face and trailed them down your body and gripped you as you wrestled with his tongue. His hands dipped into the hem of your skirt until one of his fingers hooked on your thong.
“Can we move to the bedroom?” You whispered as Lewis kissed down the length of your neck. Your fingers moved to his hair, tugging on his braids as his tongue licked on your pretty brown skin.
“No one can see you from up here.” He said as he licked on your earlobe before sucking on it.
“Maybe next time but I want you to take me on your bed.”
“You want me to fuck you into my mattress is that it?”
“Yes.” You gasped at his words and then he picked you up in his arms and began walking towards the bedroom. You capture his lips again - in a far more frantic manner as you clawed at his clothes, begging him to take them off. He threw you onto his king sized bed and then discarded his jacket and white vest.
“Take it all off.” He commanded you which caused you to whimper. You stripped out of your clothes until you were left in just your thong and before you could pull them down, Lewis pulled you towards him by your ankle, squealing as he dragged you. Your back settled down onto the bed as Lewis positioned himself in between your legs and pulled your thongs away from your cunt.
Lewis felt you tremble as he parted your folds with his fingers, teasing them as he watched you react to his touch.
“I always tell you this but you have such a pretty pussy sweetheart.”
“And you love playing with my pretty pussy.”
“Yeah I do. I’m gonna play with you and make you feel so good until I’ve had enough.” You moaned at his words and thrusted your pussy into his face. Lewis chuckled at your desperation, pressing the pad of his thumb on your clit.
“How bad do you want it?” He asked you as you took off your underwear completely.
“I want it so bad baby.” You replied as he got onto his knees and placed your legs on his shoulders. “Please.” You pleaded.
“Ugh.” Lewis groaned. “I love it when you get like this. So needy before I even touch you.” He turned his head to place kisses on the inner of your thighs.
“Because you love teasing me until I can’t take it.” He smirked at you right before he buried his head in your thighs. The first burst of your small whimpers left you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and softly sucked it into his mouth. Your hands quickly found their way into your hair, tugging on the strands as he sucked on your sensitive bud. His eyes moved upward to meet yours that were already looking down at him. Lewis’s gaze was so intense as he caught your every reaction.
Shaky breaths left you as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your nub. Your sweetness trickled into his mouth, dipping the muscle into your cunt. You squirmed in his arms as he continued giving you slow strokes of his tongue before changing the motion into a suction.
“Oh shit!” You gasped as you jerked up to your elbows and pushed the back of your heels into his muscled, tattooed back. Lewis softly groaned against you as his cock strained in his pants.
“Just like that.” You moaned as you pulled on the covers beneath you as you rolled your hips into his mouth. Just as your orgasm was on the eclipse, he pulled away from you and your sound of despair was music to his ears as he grabbed a strip of condoms from the bedside table and he threw them beside you on the bed.
“I hate it when you stop just as I’m about to cum.” You whined as you watched him cover his dick with the condom.
“I know sweetheart but tonight, I only want to feel you cumming on me.” He told you as he traced your opening with the tip of his cock as he crowded your body from above. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hiked your legs to his waist. Lewis leaned down and pressed a searing kiss onto your lips, you hummed into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
He slowly slid inside.
“Fuck.” The both of you sighed. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he slid further into your cunt. Your lips brushed against each other as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of you as you continued to adjust to the stretch. Two years on and you still took a little time to accommodate him.
He placed a kiss on your hairline as he whispered sweet words in your ear. “Always tight and sweet for me.” You whimpered at his words as you tried to push your hips up to encourage him to pick up speed but all he did was put his hands in the crook of your knees, pushing them down. From the new position, his chains were dangling down into your face.
“Baby.” You called him.
“Yeah baby?”
“Don’t go sweet on me. I need you.” His strokes were slow, building his momentum but hearing you say that made his jaw clench. He’d always tried to be gentle with you never really letting his mask slip but there were times before where he had given you a taste and you craved for Lewis to let go of his inhibition.
“I’ll ruin you sweetheart. I’ll ruin you for good.” He mumbled as he pecked your lips.
“I’m yours. Do what you want to me.”
Lewis let your words wash over you and they made him buckle. He dropped his forehead onto yours with his eyes closed.
“Do you know the traffic light system?” He asked you and you quickly nodded your head in response.”
“Green means go, amber is slow down and red is stop.”
“Good girl.” He hummed, giving you one more kiss. “I still want a safe word.”
“Burgundy.” You shot out an answer which caused him to smirk.
“That’s my girl.” He sat up but he was still holding you down as he angled his hips and hit your spot at a different angle. Your breath ceased, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he began to focus on that same spot - thrusting into you hard and fast. Your walls tightly clenched around him, strangling his cock as your body was swept in pleasure. Because of the previous build up, your orgasm was quickly rising.
He could feel your warmth and wetness through the sheath of the latex and for the umpteenth time, his mind wandered to how you’d feel without the barrier in between you. His knees were already buckling , he knew without the condom, he’d crumble. However, he had to focus. Your moans were calling out to him, your hand was pressing at his abdomen to try and relieve some of the pressure but he wasn’t going to let up.
He would get you right to the edge, get your legs shaking before he would stop. Edging you over and over until you were begging with tears trailing down the sides of your face.
“Please, please, please, please.” You rambled as you thrashed your head around, completely overwhelmed with your nerves being overshot by his actions and his dick pushing deeper inside of you. Your eyes were closed as you tried to regulate your breathing to focus on not climaxing.
“Open your eyes baby.” Lewis grabbed your cheeks, the pain of his blunt nails digging into your skin forced you to open your eyes. “There you go. I need you to keep looking at me as I fuck you stupid.”
He hiked up your right leg to his shoulder as he picked up his pace, pounding into you harder and faster.
“Lewis!” You exclaimed his name as your back arched off the bed, gasping for air as his hips snapped harshly against your skin. He loved the way his name fell from your lips, the best music to his ears. “Right there baby!”
“Open your mouth.” He demanded and you promptly let your mouth part. He hovered above you and let some spit drop into your mouth. You whimpered as you quickly swallowed and showed him your tongue to show him that you’d done it.
“That’s my good girl.” He smiled at you and then wiped your bottom lip, smudging the last of your lipstick. His fingers were so close and you took them into your mouth, sucking on them causing his rhythm to stutter. He pushed his fingers a little bit further into your mouth which caused you to gag a little bit and you kept sucking on his digits.
You have a thing for choking and he’d picked up on that but hadn’t really done much to play with you until now. Lewis took his fingers out of your mouth and brought them to your neck and applied just enough pressure to make your walls clamp up around him. You squeezed your eyes closed as more tears came - you couldn’t hold back anymore, our body was begging for release and Lewis continued with his teasing.
“Hold your legs up.” He told you and when your arms hooked around your trembling thighs, Lewis bent his body so that his head was closer to your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. He grazed your areola with his teeth before sucking on your nipple causing your walls to quiver around his dick.
Even without words, Lewis could feel your body crying for release. “My dirty, dirty girl. I can feel you milking my dick, just trying to take me for all my worth.” Using his weight to hold you down, one hand still around his neck and the other coming in between your bodies to pinch your clit before moving his fingers in swift and fast circles on your nub.
“This pretty pussy doesn’t want to let me go sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”
“I need to come.” Your lips were against his ear, his cold jewellery touching your warm, flushed skin. “Please let me come, Sir. Let me come for you.”
“What if I don’t want you to? What if I just want you right on the edge? Hm? What if it brings me pleasure edging you and watching you suffer?”
“Baby…”
“You can stop it now. Just give me the word and I’ll end it all right now.”
You shook your head. “Don’t stop.”
Lewis then shifted your position yet again, this time with your knees now on each side of your head. He began fucking you harder than before which left you incoherent, begging and pleading for any and everything.
Your juices were drenching the both of you and with each thrust, the slapping of wet skin caused an echo to carry across the room.
“I’m gonna come!” You inhaled sharply as your chest heaved for air. Lewis placed a kiss onto the back of your leg.
“Come for me baby. Wanna feel you drench my dick.” His words broke the dam. Your whole body was set ablaze as your orgasm consumed your body as you called out his name in a desperate cry. Lewis dropped his head into the crook of your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth as he fucks you through the climax.
His thrusts became irregular and sloppy until he was moaning against your flesh as he erupted into the condom. You held onto each other as the both of you tried to control your breathing. Your bodies were covered in sweat and the stickiness of your fluids in between your legs.
Your body was still vibrating from the intensity of your orgasm. “I can’t feel my legs.” You mumbled in his ear causing Lewis to chuckle. He turned his head and kissed along your jawline before capturing your lips into a soft kiss.
“Did I hurt you baby?”
“In all of the best ways.” You smiled against his lips. “One of the best orgasms you’ve ever given me.”
“One of many.”
“God, I love you.” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to move away from the bed and towards the bathroom. He sat you on the counter of the sink as he walked to the bathtub to fill it with water before coming back to you.
He parted your legs and grabbed a wet rag and began wiping you down. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you baby?” The marks of his touch were beginning to show on your skin and the concern in his tone made you swoon. You placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at you.
“I’m fine baby, I swear. I still feel like you’re holding back on me.” You replied.
“It’s our first time venturing into that type of play. I don’t want to overwhelm you just yet. Things tonight were already intense so we need to be careful about that.”
“Hmmm.” You hummed as your walls clenched around nothing and your nipples began to tighten. “God, I love it when you talk to me like that.”
Lewis smirked down at you before leaning forward and kissing you once more. “I take being a dom very seriously. You’re my girl and I love you so I have to be extra cautious.”
“Are you finally going to make me yours completely?”
“You already are, sweetheart, I don’t need to dominate you to prove that.” He licked his lips before picking you up and walking you to the tub.
“No, but it would be nice.” Your answer caused him to laugh as he settled the both of you in the warm water. Your body was sore in all of the right places and here you were in the arms of the same man who brought you the sinful pleasure and now the most tender affection.
The duality of his love.
ru’s letters 💌: I cannot believe that this was sitting in my drafts for two years. I did some adjustments for it to be a sequel and instead of a prequel. Hope you loved it my angels 😘.
edit: thinking of doing a final part for this where we fully explore Lewis in a full Dom mode. Let me know what you think 🫶🏾
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stil-lindigo · 13 days
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lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)
if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.
--
no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.
I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.
I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.
If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.
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quirkle2 · 5 months
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so what if . slime rancher au
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Careful - Chapter Two
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Two: Liar
Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?
Summary:
Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.
The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.
Word Count: 8,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter. 
A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!
...
When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery. 
You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it. 
The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.
“Sorry!” 
You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again). 
“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’ 
The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
Spencer Reid. 
The father of your child, the man you had once loved. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it. 
You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him. 
He looked good.
Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him. 
He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks. 
You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body. 
How did he look so good? 
He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning. 
(You hated it.) 
“Y/N,” 
He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way. 
Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta. 
Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind. 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched. 
You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure. 
Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments. 
This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner. 
“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-” 
“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her. 
She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend. 
Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him. 
When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you. 
If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that. 
“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ. 
JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that. 
“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families. 
“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.” 
You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves. 
“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch. 
“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow. 
This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago. 
What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him? 
But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children. 
JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived. 
The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him. 
So he very likely was Spencer’s son. 
She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own. 
JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends. 
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.” 
You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible. 
Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere. 
Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father? 
But now wasn’t the right time. 
“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.” 
You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side. 
“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart. 
JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead. 
“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.” 
You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry. 
After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears. 
“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?” 
Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why. 
But it was very rare to see denial. 
She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear. 
But JJ could only theorize about that. 
“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.” 
You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes. 
“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,” 
You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with. 
JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue. 
“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.” 
You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you. 
“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch. 
This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room. 
“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-” 
“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-” 
“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”
You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy. 
“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch. 
“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room. 
“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.” 
You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness. 
When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye. 
A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter. 
White carnations. 
It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence. 
She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it. 
“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on. 
He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else. 
“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-” 
JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off. 
“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips. 
When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment. 
“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked. 
“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused. 
“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now. 
“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant. 
“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?” 
“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.” 
“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied. 
Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers. 
You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed. 
Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card? 
It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet. 
“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one. 
Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you. 
“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done. 
“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily. 
Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand. 
JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go. 
JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you. 
“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house. 
You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end. 
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.” 
You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers. 
“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out. 
“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-” 
“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.” 
You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day. 
He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum. 
You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention. 
“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice. 
“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.” 
She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on: 
“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.” 
JJ chuckled at this. 
“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills. 
You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger. 
When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired. 
In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past. 
But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you. 
“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.” 
“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.” 
“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange. 
JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him. 
“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.” 
“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked. 
“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.” 
“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?” 
Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this. 
“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.” 
“Oh.” JJ said quietly. 
The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her. 
So, it was complicated. 
But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer. 
“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it. 
JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago. 
“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him. 
“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied. 
JJ ruminated in thought for a moment. 
“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said. 
Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded. 
“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.) 
JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation. 
“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words. 
Spencer’s stomach shook. 
He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs. 
“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.” 
“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued. 
“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.” 
“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend. 
JJ let out a tired laugh. 
“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on. 
“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.” 
JJ gave him a sad look. 
“Why not?” 
“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.” 
“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked. 
“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question. 
“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?” 
“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly. 
“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.” 
Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him. 
He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times. 
“You’re right.” 
Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone. 
“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,” 
“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.” 
JJ nodded. 
“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.” 
Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time. 
“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context. 
“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better. 
“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.” 
Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually. 
He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future. 
If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you. 
“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her. 
She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself. 
And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you. 
He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone. 
… 
For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance. 
Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen. 
Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared. 
And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different. 
The night had been a whirlwind of perfection. 
After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings. 
Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment. 
The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life. 
The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours. 
You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life. 
You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth. 
You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss. 
“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile. 
“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants. 
He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back. 
“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock. 
Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you. 
And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually. 
You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room. 
You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights. 
Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter. 
You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others. 
You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels. 
He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again. 
Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself. 
The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity. 
Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot. 
“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot. 
Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth. 
“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action. 
“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare. 
You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope. 
You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary. 
The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star. 
It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing. 
Your present was… a star? 
“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again. 
“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now. 
When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully. 
It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you. 
He had literally changed the night sky for you. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly. 
You felt so overwhelmed. 
If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy. 
“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions. 
“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him. 
There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful. 
“Spencer.” 
His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss. 
Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity. 
Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath. 
You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away. 
“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice. 
“What?” You gaped, shocked by this. 
“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing. 
You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more. 
You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.) 
The thought made you tingle. 
You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for. 
“Here.” 
Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young. 
He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it. 
It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day. 
“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless. 
“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.” 
Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was. 
“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.” 
“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.” 
It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense. 
“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.” 
Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears. 
“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box. 
“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.” 
You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from. 
When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door. 
“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?” 
“I can think of a few things.” 
That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue. 
He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods. 
“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second. 
He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue. 
Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure. 
“Fuck, Spence, so close!” 
He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him. 
He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy. 
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.” 
… 
After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you. 
On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky. 
You thought about the star sometimes, too. 
You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Two- The Deal
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Summary- After the disastrous bedding, the new couple tries to improve their situation.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Lots of arguing. Angst. Homegirl’s having a difficult week. Mirrors. Masturbation. Fingering. Coming in pants. Idk how else to tag that one I’m sorry. Aemond’s just helping.
Author’s Note- I promised sexier so I delivered besties. But also it’s still sad oop.
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She manages to remain hidden in her chambers for three days following the consummation. Though she doesn't go as far as barring the door, she may as well have, only allowing two maid servants into the room and no one else save her grandsire. She allows him in the morning after the wedding, knowing that he is too persistent to keep out. The pleasantries only last so long, with him informing her of Baela and Rhaena's plan to return to court in time for her coronation before he begins inquiring as to whether or not the consummation was successful. She keeps the details as vague as possible before managing to kick him out with complaints of sickness. It keeps him away, him and everyone else who could possibly want to see her. And she is glad for it. Though it is not fair, she blames Corlys for her humiliation and refuses to speak with him further until this shame dissipates, unsure as to how she will ever be able to look at anyone within that damned council without thinking of how they had all put her in this situation. How they had watched them, her, while she and Aemond had done their duty.
It is foolish, she knows, to remain upset. A thousand women have endured such a fate before her and she does not doubt a thousand have yet to bear it, but she is the queen now. Should she wish to sulk in her shame, there is no one in the realm who can pull her from her rooms now.
Or, at least, not many.
He gives her time, keeping his distance for nearly four nights, but she knew he would come to her eventually. Duty is the pillar Aemond has built his life upon and he would not allow it to go unattended for long. Though she had thought he would come to her during the day, that he would find the time in his rigorous schedule to knock on her door and berate her for her lack of attention, for attempting to skate her duty. It was so expected that she had prepared herself for it, steeling herself whenever she heard footsteps sound too close to the door.
She hadn’t expected him to come in through the passageways during the hour of ghosts, appearing in the mirror behind her as suddenly as a wraith.
She is forced to stifle a shriek when she catches sight of him, turning quickly to face him. It feels almost like having your back on a predator, the discomfort only growing when she catches the look on his face. Jaw set, lips pursed, looking around the room in disdain. It takes more effort than it should, to attempt to appear unaffected, but there is only one thought coursing through her mind now. That he is here to claim his rights, to do his husbandly duty. He had given her respite, likely longer than he had any reason to, and now he is here to begin what must be started.
The very thought makes her stomach sink, the consummation replaying in her head like a terrible dream, but she forces herself to steel her spine and appear unbothered, reprimanding him through the mirror.
"By the gods, Aemond, there is a door for a reason, you know. You cannot just sneak into my rooms like a thief in the night."
His mouth twitches at that, his irritation evident. "You are not answering your door. Nor are you leaving your chambers. I had almost begun to believe that you are ill."
"I am ill."
He simply hums, making his way toward her. She stiffens, whole body going rigid, but he does not touch her. Instead, his hand goes to the line of ornate bottles that sit below her vanity, each one lined meticulously. He picks up one of the bottles, uncorking it before holding it under his nose. It's a perfume, one that she had been gifted before the war by one of the lords vying for her affection. She had always liked it- a pretty thing that smelt of peaches and honey- and had used it sparingly, but his face remains unchanged as he pushes the cork back in and sets it back in the line.
"My mother has yet to leave me alone," he announces into the silence. She goes still again, not needing him to continue, but he pays her no heed. With his eye still locked on her, he continues. "She is determined to ensure that I understand the importance of conceiving an heir. Corlys as well, though I imagine he has come to visit you despite your illness."
It is her turn to clench her jaw, biting her tongue as she leans forward to fetch her hairbrush. "He has."
"Then you know why I've come?"
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @toodlesxcuddles @ashovertheriver @lokiofasgard12 @hypocritic-trash-baby
bolded couldn’t be tagged :(
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bigfatbimbo · 13 days
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I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating
I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”
Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything
So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”
Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego
Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners
And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him
So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”
People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”
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So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.
Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.
Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.
And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.
So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.
Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.
I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.
And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.
Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.
And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”
Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.
But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”
Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.
That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.
Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.
Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.
Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.
However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.
Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.
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🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁
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YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!
Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—
Heartslabyul
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They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!
Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.
Riddle
Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.
Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.
IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭
The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~
Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).
Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!
No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.
Trey
The cookie iced to look like his hat…
Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!
Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.
Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.
He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.
There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.
Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.
Cater
There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.
If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.
There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.
The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.
There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.
Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔
Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).
Ace
Ace of hearts card!
A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??
His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.
The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.
There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!
There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.
Deuce
Two of spades card!
Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.
Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…
The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.
Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!
Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.
Savanaclaw
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Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.
Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.
Leona
A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.
The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.
Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.
The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?
Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.
His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.
Ruggie
Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!
Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!
The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.
Jack
WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.
This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.
xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j
Octavinelle
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Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).
Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.
A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.
The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.
Azul
The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.
A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.
Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).
There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.
His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).
Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.
Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.
Tweels
The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).
Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.
The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.
Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.
A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).
Jade
Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.
Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.
Floyd
Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!
Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?
Scarabia
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Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!
They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?
Kalim
His earrings have been made into an edible version!
Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.
There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.
The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.
At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…
The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www
VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)
Jamil
Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.
We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!
The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.
Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)
Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.
Pomefiore
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All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.
The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.
Vil
Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).
The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.
The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.
There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).
Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.
Rook
Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).
The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".
The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.
An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!
The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.
At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.
There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.
Epel
The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!
Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.
There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.
Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!
There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?
The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.
Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.
Ignihyde
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The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.
I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).
Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.
Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.
Idia
The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.
On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.
The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!
Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.
Ortho
This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.
Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.
There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.
The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)
Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.
This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.
Diasomnia
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The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.
Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.
The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www
Malleus
Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.
The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.
Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.
Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.
There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.
Lilia
The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.
Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.
Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.
I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.
I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—
Silver
His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.
Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.
Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.
Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.
Sebek
The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.
Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.
Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?
There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.
There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.
Extra
Grim
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He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!
Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.
Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!
Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!
The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.
194 notes · View notes
vhstown · 9 months
Text
miles g morales x you headcanons
— 42!miles x gn!reader (dating)
warnings: fluff, brief mentions of violence, angst if you squint
note: ok i know i didn't write him like a bad boy rizzful cool criminal bf but this is just my interpretation from the 1min of screentime he had 😭 i hope someone likes it? i don't really but it's ok posting anyway, kind of long a lot of ramble
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wasn't edited previously but is now!
Miles has never dated anyone before, so naturally, he's never kissed anyone before. In fact, though he's reluctant, he asks his uncle for advice about you (just as a nephew in need, of course.) It's sort of hilarious to see the boy with such a cold and unbothered exterior try to flirt and make a move on you. When he asks you out, he nearly trips over himself trying to block your way, and nearly trips over himself again when you say yes. When you try to kiss, he freezes up, but eventually gets the hang of it. It's surprisingly sweet and careful; warm.
Miles is hesitant to date you — date anyone. It's a casual sort of thing at first; he doesn't want to get too attached. But what draws him to you is the fact that you can make his life feel so normal, so simple and in-the-moment. It doesn't take long for him to realise that this is what he wants.
He does everything in his power to keep his criminal identity a secret. When there's rumours going around about the Prowler, he's quick to shut down the conversation with vague, uninterested answers. He's not scared of many things, but he's scared of the only person he can really be Miles around leaving.
So, the boy tries his absolute best to be good to you. Yes, he misses dates doing God knows what, but he's quick to try and reschedule or show up to your door with gifts, food, anything he thinks might make you happy (despite your annoyance, he's really good at making it up to you.) When dates aren't working, he decides to take you on spontaneous ones, going around Brooklyn and wracking his brain for anything that might interest you or be nice enough for a date. Half of your date is usually spent walking around together, but it's more fun than you think to pass time together like that.
For the time you do manage to spend together, you notice he's very observant (he has to be to survive as the Prowler.) Miles remembers every little detail about you and what you like. Things you told him since he met you are still firm in his memory, even if it was something you said off-handedly or to somebody else. He's always surprising you with little things you mention: an accessory, dessert from the place you wanted to try ages ago, etc.
Miles is very aware of your interests and whenever he passes by related stores, he's always asking you if you want anything. You're the only person in his life other than his family; of course he's going to cherish you.
But the second thing Miles is worried about is his mom. He's very overprotective over his mom, understandably so. She's the only parent he has left and he knows she overworks herself trying to provide for them. He's always trying to help her when he can, doing chores and errands without question and per his uncle's suggestions, but if something was to happen to her, he'd blame himself for it above all. So when he introduces you to her, he's more than uncertain. It's not like you could do anything to her, but he's made it a habit to never fully trust anyone anyway.
That is, until he sees how Rio completely lights up around you. She's so thrilled that Miles has a friend (or whatever Miles told her you were.) Even though she can only talk to you for a few minutes before her shift, she automatically opens up her home to you, telling you that you can help yourself to the kitchen and come over whenever you like. She whispers a couple things in Spanish to Miles that you can't quite catch, and he doesn't care to mention.
But you can definitely guess what she keeps telling him. Whenever he brings you over, he acts aloof, almost awkward trying to follow what his mom says to make you comfortable. The house and Miles' room suddenly becomes eerily spotless whenever you're due to come over, and the cupboards are in complete order. Rio's always asking Miles where you are, and she treats you like you're her second kid. She's very aware that you might be in the future (though Miles keeps denying it.)
You catch glimpses of his uncle sometimes. He doesn't really talk to you, but the man is calm enough. Miles seems to be comfortable around him, but when he finds out, you can make out an amused glint in Aaron's eyes whenever he sees you. Miles doesn't take you to see his uncle; he'd rather you're not aware of the man's ridiculous way of teasing him.
Whenever you come over, you both make it a habit to snack, play videogames, listen to music, whatever you feel like doing. It seems like he's always trying to keep you there. Miles will never admit it, but he misses you a lot. All he really does to show that is pull you into a silent hug and kiss your cheek when he sees you again, asking in the lowest voice what you've been up to.
When you asked Miles about his interests, he tells you the ones he shares with his uncle at first — music, art, etc. But whenever you go into his room, you notice a bunch of empty shelves and hastily shut drawers. Miles never really shares his real interests with anyone (he thinks they're childish more than anything), but when you insist, he bedrudgingly takes out the figures, comics and posters, acting like he put them away ages ago and forgot about them (more 5 minutes before you came over, if it wasn't obvious from the way he was flushing.)
The two of you spend a while putting everything back. You ask him questions about it and he returns them with short answers. When you leave that day, his heart is full, and his jaw hurts from trying to hide his smile as he looks at his shelves filled with superhero figurines and comics. He won't be touching anything now that you've put them in place. He really can be himself around you, though he's still a bit reluctant.
On top of Miles' other "secret" interests, he likes drawing. He keeps a tiny sketchbook where he draws people mainly, and you catch glimpses of it sometimes when he thinks you're not looking. Half of it is ripped out (there drawings of his mom, uncle and comic book superheroes scattered around his room), but the faces that do remain are of his dad, unfinished. There's another drawing he's never finished in there too. It's been constantly erased and redrawn; it was meant to be you. Eventually, that page is ripped out too. You can't find it no matter how hard you look; it's in his jacket.
And at first, the boy was kind of awkward. He didnt want to hurt you; he knows he very well could. He usually let you initiate anything (though he's clingy as hell and was just shooting that feeling down as much as he could.)
When he does get more comfortable around you (especially after he's sure it's not just a fling), he's always kissing your cheek, forehead, your hair; his kisses are surprisingly chaste, sweet, much like your first one. He holds your hand often too, even if you're just sitting next to each other, fingers firmly locked together with the occasional squeeze to let you know he's still there.
But he's no short of a tease too. Miles always likes to say pretty things in Spanish just to get you riled up. Even if you might understand what he's saying, he says it under his breath so you can't catch it. Miles doesn't repeat himself, instead giving you that stupid cocky smirk you've grown to love (and hate.) Sometimes he lifts your chin to make his eyes meet yours, maybe to see you flustered too as he studies your face in silence, poker-faced, not responding to anything you're saying. You think he's being teasing, but he just really doesn't know what to say. You're his, and sometimes he just can't believe it.
What he really loves though is holding you close: his head over your shoulder or your head against his chest (or his against yours, with much pestering) so you can't see the way that he's smiling. As much as he wants to be the cool and distant boyfriend, he's a big softie, absolutely melting with your affection, always quick to return it with his own.
But when you're out, it's a different story. He's not only overprotective of his mom, but of you. It really shows when he walks you home. He keeps his arm firmly around your waist, giving dirty looks to anyone who goes even an inch too close to you. He whipsers "you okay?" and "c'mon" while basically directing you around.
Miles knows these streets better than anyone else, but he's not going to take you through quick back alleys. He'll take you through busy main streets, maybe stop by a bodega to pick something up for you if you're still hungry while he eyes every corner of the store, even go on the subway with you if you're feeling particularly lazy, your back to his chest with an arm around you so you don't fall. He's always muttering about being safe, and his street smarts definitely rub off on you; his advice is sound, almost too experienced for a random kid living in Brooklyn.
However, Miles won't let you find out. No matter how much he's juggling being the Prowler, his family and you, he'll make it work. He can't lose this, no way in hell. Even if he has to lie to you about his seemingly random injuries or ditched date nights, you'll never find out about that purple blur that skids past you when you're outside at odd hours. They're just rumours after all, he tells you.
🕸️💫👾
thank you for reading 😭🙏 i struggled w this one and hobie too but idk i love 42 miles he's just some guy fr .... im thinking of writing a friends to lovers fic w 42 miles but im not sure yet (im just really lazy but lmk if ur interested?) + thank you to @qiuweyballs for the inspo i hate you (endearingly)
if u liked this reblogs are appreciated <3 catch the rest of my atsv headcanons here! love ya
961 notes · View notes
grandline-fics · 4 months
Note
Ohhhh i really really really like your writing, it’s so very good!! Could i request some fluff with zoro? I was thinking about the reader being an artist, and he finds her sketchbook and is impressed by her art, and then he finds drawings of the crew and him. Or something like that, you can definitely change the idea. Thank you very much, i hope you have a good day/night!
DESCRIPTION: You’re an artist and he asks to see your sketchbook
WARNINGS:  none
CHARACTERS: Zoro
WORDS: 680
A/N: Thank you for the request! I've been feeling a bit of writer's block creeping up but hopefully you like what I came up with.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
———————
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“You’re going to hurt your back if you keep hunching over like that.” Zoro told you as he looked over his shoulder to fix you with a meaningful look, amused to see you snap out of your trance to look up in surprise. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded you to sit up properly, you still ended up in this kind of position when you were intensely set on drawing in the sketchbook that was rarely far from your reach. He didn’t miss how your hand instinctively curled over the pages currently being worked on, protecting them from view but also using practiced care to avoid smudging the drawings. 
Zoro couldn’t help but note you were more protective of your sketchbook around him than you would be with the rest of the crew. Yes, you still would shield it initially from view but if asked you would reveal what you were currently working on. With him? You never showed it unless it was finished products on a canvas. Silently he wondered why he was different. Though he supposed he wasn’t one to ask outright compared to the likes of Luffy who was impulsive and excitable, Sanji, who gushed over the slightest thing, and even Robin who was naturally curious about art and anything intellectual. Compared to them, Zoro never felt the need to ask even when he did want to see your talent. “Can I see?” he asked.
You tensed in surprise and quickly let your gaze flicker to the sketchbook and back to his face. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to see, it was just you weren’t sure how he would react. Hesitantly you pulled your hand away and let the pages be revealed to him. Zoro stepped closer and lifted the book into his hands, he’d seen how you held it enough times to know the proper way to treat it without ruining any of your hard work. Slowly he started at the beginning, taking in scenes you’d drawn from previous adventures on different islands. 
Some pages held detailed studies of plants and landscapes, each bringing out a memory for him, whether it of a vague feeling of relaxation or a stronger emotion as he recalled the hard won fights they’d engaged on. Most of the pages however he knew had been taken from some place on the Sunny, the focus being some, if not all of the crew. It didn’t take him long to notice that he seemed to feature more heavily than the others. He would be lying if he didn’t feel some sort of satisfaction at that. 
For the first time since you’d let him look at the very thing you were most precious about he lifted his gaze to see you were purposely looking away from him. “It’s not like you to be insecure, you’re talented. Why are you so nervous?” He asked, pretending to be oblivious. Part of him hoped you’d give him an answer he’d been hoping on. Zoro watched you lightly chew on your bottom lip as you tried to form an answer. Finally you cleared your throat.
“I’m not insecure about my skill…” You began simply, slowly building the nerve to look at the swordsman while also trying to stop the growing blush on your face. “It’s just I don’t want you to think I’m stalking you or anything, I know I’ve drawn you a lot.”
“You have?” Zoro couldn’t help the teasing tone creeping into his voice as he looked down at one page in particular that was a study of him training with his swords. “Hadn’t noticed.”
”Oh shut up!” You grumbled lightly, taking the sketchbook back into your hold. “It’s not my fault I can only draw things that interest me. It’s just how I am.” Quickly you clamped your mouth shut, the blush burning on your skin stronger now as Zoro grinned down at you, looking even more pleased with himself. He only wished he’d asked to see your sketchbook sooner had he known this was what he was going to get.
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in1-nutshell · 2 months
Note
Everytime after reading your Bot Buddy, i would end up with a headache from laughing too much with the bots skits😭 i love em. I've been looking around for some RiD fics but there's not much of em here so thought i could request. Bot buddy who's Megatron's kid, dropping by earth to look for Bumblebee after he left Cybertron. The two reunited (platonically) and was introduced to Team Bee.
Also, StrongArm and SideSwipes reaction to when Bumblebee casually mentioned that Buddy is Meg's kid
This has no connection to Buddy going to different dimension or meeting anyone outside TFP.
Hope you enjoy!
Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality meeting Team Bee
SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader
RiD2015
When Buddy had the vision of Optimus, she nearly screamed herself awake.
Optimus had instructed her to help Bumblebee and his new team.
When Buddy woke up there was already a portal inside her room.
She didn’t even have a minute to herself and already she needed to go.
Buddy leaps into the portal and comes out to a familiar landscape.
She was on Earth.
A sudden clang surprises her and she looks back.
A rather large scrap yard had presented itself in front of her.
There was a lot of yelling behind the wall.
Buddy figured that that would be the first place to check out.
She manages to climb up a tree and hop over the wall.
Buddy looks around the intricate scraps and older things around.
The clang comes back with more frustrated yelling.
Buddy quickly hides behind the wall of scraps and pers over her shoulder.
To her surprise she sees Bumblebee trying to talk to some of his team mates out of a fight.
Some of the other ones just stay out of it and watch.
The Dinobot accidentally whipped Bumblebee with his tail sending him flying and landed straight at Buddy’s pedes.
Buddy laughed a bit looking down at Bee’s surprised face.
Bee gets up and immediately picks up and sings Buddy around enthusiastically.
He had missed his friend dearly.
Everyone else is very confused.
Especially where in the world did that minibot come from?
Buddy gets put down and properly introduces herself to the others and explains her vision.
Bee is more than happy to have Buddy as part of his team, especially since they were a little bit short on a medic.
Bumblebee and Buddy often talk about the old times during the war or about things they missed on Earth.
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Strongarm
Strongarm was a bit confused about seeing this new minibot with Bumblebee.
She finds it a bit hard to believe that the mini was a part of Team Prime, but trust Bees word on it.
She is confused when Buddy refuses to go after any cons, but figures that it had something to do with being a medic.
Absolutely floored when Bee casually mentions that Buddy’s father was Megatron.
Strongarm does get the feeling that Buddy may have ulterior motives that do not benefit the team and decides to bring it up with Bumblebee.
She had never seen him defend someone like that.
After a bit of thinking she decides to ask the source herself.
Buddy keeps all details about her life with Megatron as vague as possible.
That’s when Strongarm realizes that Buddy isn’t a bad bot at all and apologizes the assumptions.
Buddy forgives her.
The usual place to find the two is in the training area as Buddy tries and coaches Strongarm on kicking techniques the best she can.
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Sideswipe
Like Strongarm, Sideswipe was on the fence on whether this bot was a part of Team Prime.
But then again, he was reminded of Drift’s mini’s.
He is a bit confused in why Buddy refuses to fight, rather sticking to the base and the humans.
Also, like Strongarm, floored hearing about Megatron being her father.
But for a different reason.
Megatron was one of the greatest fighters in history, how come Buddy hasn’t shown them some moves.
Bumblebee gets furious when Sideswipes nagging gets to be too much, again surprised how mad his leader got when Buddy’s past was brought up.
Buddy does explain that she knows some things, but they bring up bad memories of her time with Megatron and rather use them, when necessary, but she is willing to teach the team some moves to protect themselves.
He gives a bit of an apology when he finds out through Strongarm some of the things Megatron did.
Buddy forgives him.
The usual place to find the two is playing and discussing who’s music taste is better.
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Grimlock
Grimlock was the first to welcome Buddy on the team.
Fully believes that she was on Team Prime
Why would anyone lie about that?
Is shocked to hear that the biggest bad of the Cons was her father.
He does ask some questions about it, but he knows when to stop when some things look a bit too painful to talk about.
One thing he has learned from the team, that if someone wants to talk about their past, they will with time.
Otherwise, it gets messy quick.
Grimlock does quietly defend Buddy against the others when they ar acting a bit too rude, even for him.
He is one of the first to hear from Buddy about her experience with Megatron.
He feels for Buddy and does offer his support in any way he can.
If they are seen together it’s with Buddy on top of his helm while they just chat about random things.
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Drift
Drift believes Bumblebee when he says that Buddy was on the team.
That is no lying matter so it must be true.
His minis and Buddy constantly chat to each other.
Buddy does make sure to talk to him about letting them have more freedom.
Drift is on high alert hearing that Buddy was Megatron’s daughter.
Refuse to have his minis be near her without his super vison.
Like Strongarm does question Buddy for any alternative motives and goes to Bee.
He had never seen Bee move so quickly or get that mad in a spit second.
Drift is the longest to come to terms with Buddy, simply because he doesn’t want to talk.
His minis hear about some of the things Megatron did to her and urge their teacher to talk to her.
They eventually do and they exchange stories.
The hostilities settled down after that.
If the two are ever seen together they are usually enjoying each other’s silence or Drift is watching over Buddy and his mini’s so they don’t do anything that could hurt each other.
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magenta-embers · 6 months
Text
Fetus Jimin's Blatant Crush on Jungkook
Today I wanted to travel back in time and put a spotlight on a period of utmost importance when it comes to understanding the full picture of Jikook and part of what makes it such a legitimate possibility.
Believing that they could truly be a couple now is made as easy as breathing when you observe their history. You need the whole context to take Jikook from just another ship to something potentially very real. It's a context that the other pairings in the group just don't have.
The Jimin and Jungkook we know now are settled and comfortable with themselves and with each other. You could call them domestic. But back in the day, say 2013-2015, it was a different story.
To put it simply: Jimin and Jungkook had a massive mutual crush on each other and it wasn't even remotely subtle.
Most Jikookers know what I'm talking about, but if you haven't had a chance to look deeper into the context of these two together, here's a teensy intro.
I'm gonna share a select few of my personal highlight moments exhibiting Jimin's crush + his confusion/acceptance regarding it. There are hours of moments to choose from and an image/gif limit, so we'll keep it to a minimum.
We're going to focus on the Jimin side of things today. Jungkook will probably get his own post as these two expressed their feelings quite differently.
Present-day Jimin is very good at compartmentalizing what thoughts or parts of thoughts he shares with us. He's vague in all the right areas, chooses his words carefully, omits certain details, and is overall pretty masterful at the parasocial aspect of being an idol. Back then though?
Holy sweet mother of pearl, he just said and did anything.
He was honest (embarrassingly so) and he wore his heart on his sleeve. Because of this fumbling period with no brain-to-mouth filter, there exists some incredible retrospective insight into how Jimin feels about Jungkook at his core, without all the masking and nonchalance we get nowadays.
(Let's be real though, he still slips up)
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"JK is coming."
Boy 💀
Let's get into it.
~
Exhibit A
This first section is going to look at a very young Jimin's struggle with these new, unfamiliar feelings he's been having lately (not necessarily in exact chronological order but some highlights within the "budding crush" stage).
A.1
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While affectionately petting the maknae's hair and nape, Jimin wonders aloud why he likes Jungkook so much, as if he likes him an abnormal amount or differently than the five other friends he has in the group. If anything, Jimin should have liked Tae the most at this point since they were friends from school. Yet, Jimin openly questions what makes Jungkook different.
It's an introspective question disguised as a rhetorical one. Obviously, Jimin doesn't want JK to answer and JK, shy as he is, doesn't know how to answer a loaded question like that so he tries to redirect Jimin's attention to actual matters. It doesn't quite work.
Jimin then says, "These days, Jungkook..." and trails off while scratching his head with lighthearted frustration as if to say, "These days, Jungkook... plagues my mind," or something to that sentiment. JK's on his mind a lot and it confuses him. He doesn't finish the sentence but instead brushes it off with a laugh.
He holds back because it'll look weird to people if he gets into how much he thinks about JK or unpacks why. Still, he can't help but start to talk about it, because it's something that's actively bothering him.
A.2
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Like I said, not only does Jimin think about JK too much, but he's also thinking about how people will judge him for how he perceives Jungkook. People might think he's strange.
Why?
JK's the timid maknae with big, curious eyes. Of course, he's cute. Everyone will agree. Everyone does agree. So why is Jimin concerned with what he can say about Jungkook that's okay to others? He even pouts sadly for a moment at the end. The maknae's cute and he's kind of glum over it? He's definitely been overthinking it.
Also, the way Jimin cartoonishly moves his head and eyes while talking about how bewildered JK always is and how adorable he is for it is a hilarious attempt at being nonchalant, but to me, it just looks like a schoolboy trying not to seem gushy about his secret crush.
A.3
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Jungkook's so cute and so charming that Jimin can't function like he wants to. Can't live properly because Jungkook's on his mind constantly. He's super distracting. Is this a normal friendship thing? No. You don't see Hobi or Joon saying this about him. It's a problem exclusive to Jimin. And exclusive for Jungkook.
Jimin knows it's weird too. He's acting lighthearted about it, but to randomly say, "I can't live because of you" and keep bumping into JK is his frustration bleeding through. All the while he can't take his eyes off him as if he's trying to solve his dilemma right then and there.
Overall, It seems like Jimin doesn't understand what it is he's feeling, just that it's a lot, which makes me think that up until the Jungkook point, he hadn't really considered his sexuality on a meaningful level. We know that Jimin was the least experienced romantically, so it wouldn't surprise me if that's the case.
It's okay, Jiminie. You'll figure out a lot of things about yourself sooner rather than later.
Exhibit B
This section is about a period of time when Jimin accepted his crush and became unbelievably annoying vocal about it. You could also do an essay on why he was so in everyone's face about it.
B.1
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Man, he just outright said it, huh?
Jimin wants to be with Jungkook and go on a date with him and hold hands.
Okay, pack it up everyone, we're done here. He like likes him, oooooooh!
Look at him clinging to JK's clothes and merrily skipping forward holding his wrist. Bless his heart. As Jimin once mentioned, "My heart that thinks of Jungkook is quite big."
Peep everyone else's reactions. JK has no objections and is just basically making his "Yeeeeeaaaah" face. Namjoon and Yoongi are a mix of confused and exasperated, both going, "What?" at the inappropriate(?) answer. Hobi attempts a poker face.
They shove Jimin away and attempt to move on...
And Jimin comes right back, practically leaps on Jungkook to plead with him to "live happily together." Okay.
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When I tell you he's embarrassing.
Now Namjoon is straight-up irritated because Jimin didn't get the hint and is ruining the interview. He rolls his eyes and shoves them both back this time like he knows he's gotta get rid of the whole equation.
Hobi's glare poker face fails and he attempts to redirect focus to the topic with his own answer, complete with a pointed hand gesture.
Yoongi has a genuine scrunch of judgy confusion as if he just doesn't get wtf Jimin is trying to do because he should know better or why he's acting so clingy right now.
Jungkook quietly preens under Jimin's attention, but it's also awkward because he can read the room, so he doesn't quite know how to react other than remain pliable. He does reach for Jimin's hand subconsciously though.
I don't think it's even necessary to keep going, but oh ho ho, we're gonna keep going.
B.2
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Tae: "I think he kind of likes men."
Now, I don't love the way Tae blurts this out, putting Jimin on the spot and nearly outing him. But also, it's meant to be a joke and he likely doesn't know yet just how on the nose he really is. Tae has grown and matured a lot over the years, so forgive him for this blip.
I imagine Tae has had to sit through a lot of sus rants from Jimin about Jungkook at this point. Because it's interesting that the statement came out of him so readily as if he's considered this about Jimin more than once. He's one of the closest people to Jimin, so if he's been pondering this about his friend then it's a pretty significant observation.
Now how does Jimin react to this out-of-pocket accusation? Is it:
a) "Haha, noooo!"
b) "What are you saying?"
c) "Not like that!"
d) "Come on now."
e) He doesn't deny it whatsoever.
If you answered e, you get a sun and moon sticker. It would've been so easy and expected for Jimin to deny this claim, but he doesn't. Because he can't. Because he'd be lying. Because he does kind of like men. Especially one in particular. And Jimin is just too honest.
He does very gracefully tiptoe around a confirmation (and a shutdown of the topic) by telling Tae he doesn't like him specifically. His reflex was to be defensive of himself and how much he likes Jungkook. It also further confirms that how Jimin likes Tae (his best friend) is different from how he likes Jungkook. It's all truly very telling.
(JK's reactions are very cute, but we won't get into that here.)
B.3
Host: "You're free to go anywhere in the world with anyone you want to do anything you wish. Where are you, what are you doing, and who are you with?"
Jimin:
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Really? He had this romantic-ass answer ready to go. The other members gave normal answers about family and such. Jimin could've easily. But no. He then smiles sweetly over at Jungkook. The host is actually flustered by his answer and translates what he says, but conveniently leaves out the holding hands part.
But this is a fluke, right? He just said Jungkook as a silly answer, right?
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Oh, look! Another instance when he can answer with anything and still ends up being honest.
"I think Jungkook is very cute." It's his go-to answer when people ask him why he likes JK so much. People keep mentioning it because his liking for Jungkook is noticeably and abnormally loud. Yet, Jimin's usual answer isn't really a complete answer, is it? "Cute" can be part of a reason, but not the whole reason. Cute is the safe detail he can share.
Lmao at Tae's side-eye at Jimin fawning over Jungkook shamelessly. You can tell he's thinking, "...this mf likes men" again. He hasn't perfected that Tae poker face just yet.
So Jimin really wants that private trip with Jungkook, hey? Why not with Tae, his bestie? His soulmate? Tae's also very cute, no?
Because he doesn't mean a friend trip.
(Don't fret, Jiminie. You'll get your private trip with Jungkook and it'll be beyond your expectations.)
B.4
A couple of examples of Jungkook being aggressively on Jimin's mind even when he's just answering basic questions.
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No one: So, what do-
Jimin: Jungkookie <3
Literally, who asked? No one's twisting his arm here to make him answer "Jungkook" with romantic implications under these totally general questions. He could've answered with literally anything else.
Some thoughts:
If he was being speedy and just writing/saying the first things that popped into his head, it still means Jungkook is at the forefront of his mind. Plagues his mind, if you will.
If he was carefully considering the questions and answering honestly, it still means Jungkook is heavily weighing in his mind at a vulnerable level.
Jungkook still came before performing and receiving attention. The first thing. Not the last thing as a joke because Jimin couldn't think of anything else.
He makes sure to stake his claim over Jungkook in his description of him. "Mine." How fanfic.
His weakness is Jungkook. He can't resist him. Point blank. Why would he say that? How else am I supposed to interpret that?
Jungkook reaches every corner of Jimin's mind. Even if Jimin manages to convince himself he's just being playful and jokey, it's the repetitive nature and exclusivity of Jungkook being involved in his answers that are eyebrow-raising and give him away. He might as well doodle hearts around "JK" all over the page. It's a textbook crush. He's infatuated with this person he thinks is unattainable.
B.5
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"Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook! Please accept my love!" followed by blowing a kiss, an awkward giggle, and a glance at Jungkook.
What love? He's already accepted your platonic love; you guys are good friends, attached at the hip, and Jungkook's made it explicitly clear he likes you a lot and appreciates how well you treat him/take care of him. What more do you want him to accept, exactly, Jimin?
Again, unnecessary. No one's making him say this. No one's expecting him to say this. No one wants him to say this. And yet.
B.6
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Manifest your dreams, Jiminie.
I don't even have to explain to you how common the "We look like a couple! Haha, just kidding... Unless?" thing is. We've all been there. You want to plant the seed in your crush's head. You want them to think about it, to consider the image of you two together. Jimin's planted a whole grove in JK's head with the way he's been all over him these couple of years.
Exhibit C
The kisses.
The amount of times Jimin either asks to kiss Jungkook, asks Jungkook to kiss him, or tries to kiss Jungkook is quite frankly absurd. These are just some examples. Some!
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Imagine this was your friend who keeps trying to kiss you. For years. Jokes get really old really fast. You'd laugh and play along the first time. Laugh it off the second time. Force a laugh the third time.
At what point would you start wondering if your friend has legitimate feelings for you?
At what point do you think Jungkook did?
Especially considering Jimin's general behavior toward him.
(The other members don't laugh when it happens in front of them. It's always either wtf are you saying or they change the subject with visible discomfort.)
What Jimin is doing here (via "jokes") is testing Jungkook's boundaries, gauging his reactions, because he's interested in him beyond platonic limits. He really, really wants to kiss Jungkook and fantasizes about it, but he will not make a serious first move out of fear of being rejected.
Food for thought: Post-2015, Jimin doesn't ask Jungkook for kisses anymore or beg him to love him back, while coincidentally also becoming intimately touchier than ever with each other.
Perhaps Jimin finally got what he wanted? Hmm...
~
We can stop here. I think you get the point.
Everyone, say it with me now: Jimin wants Jungkook romantically.
He wants to go on dates with Jungkook.
He wants to hold hands with Jungkook.
He wants to kiss Jungkook.
He's expressed these things in every way he can:
He's acted them out.
He's said them aloud.
He's written them down.
Over and over and over again. What more do you want? I am not assuming anything. To say that he doesn't is just blatantly ignoring poor Jimin screaming it from the rooftops to fit whatever agenda you have. It's a you problem.
If you want to see more examples of everything (because there are still plenty), just watch this. In fact, watch every video on this channel. Treat yourself.
youtube
Also thanks to this heaven-sent channel for the captions on almost everything in this post (all gifs by me).
If I see a single one of you say with your whole chest that Jimin thinks of Jungkook in a brotherly way after this, I will hunt you down and beat your ass and your brother's ass.
Open your damn eyes.
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I hope you enjoyed my spiel. Till next time!
E.
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centipedelightning · 1 year
Note
Hey, I was wondering if you could do a skeleboys x reader whose gut reaction when the get spooked is to sort of pull their boy back to them not caus they don't trust him their just used to being a protector.
(I request undertale and underfell plus dealers choice :D)
Thanks love your stuff by the way
Waaaa how cute! Ugh I love dealers choice it just means I can write my pookies (today that means the swapfell bros). Yk I always feel bad bc I feel like I write too little. I am used to writing research papers where I just get to the point so creative writing is so painful.
| Ut/Uf/Sf Skelebros x protective reader || super vaguely romantic for a few || fluffy |
Cw/Tw: None
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Sans
He’s blushing
I imagine this would be the kind of situation where you two were near some people that got in a physical altercation and you pulled him back. That kind of unconscious instinct both surprises and Greatly flatters him.
He’ll go all wide-socketed and just look at you like you’ve grown extra eyes.
Once the y’all are away from whatever situation spooked you, he’ll start making little jokes non-stop. It’s terrible.
“what was that?” “Wdym what was that?” “were you trying to protect me??” “Tf are you talking about??” “you need a new nickname. i didn’t realize you’re such a guard dog.” “Sans what are you talking about”
Sans tries to keep the energy equal in a relationship. Not one-to-one type of stuff where if you do one chore one day he’ll do it the next, as much as if you put in a lot of work he’ll try to treat you or do something that shows that he knows you did it and appreciates it. So now that he knows you’ll jump to his defense at the drop of a hat, he makes it his mission to Not let you do that. He is flattered of course but he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.
In smaller situations where you just got spooked by something he’ll try to calm you down with jokes and puns.
Papyrus
BLUSHING AND STUTTERING AND AND AND
He’s so flattered he’s just a mess.
Papyrus is the type of person that will jump to anyone’s defense immediately, so you reciprocating the energy means everything to him.
He doesn’t spook very easy, so you’ll probably be the jumpier person. No matter what gets you, big or small, you just randomly pulling him behind you has him blushing hard enough to glow.
Emotional bioluminescence never works in a skeleton’s favor.
I fear that you don’t realize what you brought onto yourself though.
If you weren’t already, Papyrus is staying up planning you an incredibly detailed workout plan to make sure you are capable in combat.
“YOU SHOULD BE PREPARED TO FIGHT IF YOU ARE SO DESPERATE TO DEFEND MY HONOR NYEH-HEH-HEH”
The finalized workout regimen is planned exactly to your physical limitations. Almost to a concerning degree… did he do a secret medical exam or something??
No for the record, but he wouldn’t say no matter what the answer.
Red
Red is pretty jumpy himself so his hackles are already raised as he is trying to drag you behind him, but You dragged him back first??? You want to protect Him???
Swoon
He’s swooning
He still wins this nonexistent battle for the right to protect the other, so he manages to get you close to him. Sorry not sorry but Red’s protective instincts are hard to match, let alone beat.
If the situation was severe enough that you two would need to leave, once y’all do he’s all over you. Laughing and joking about how you’re trying to play guard dog.
He does try to check in a make sure you know you can depend on him yada yada. Please reassure him that you know and whatnot.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or feels insecure of course—hell one of his many types is strong and forthcoming—he is just also used to being the protector and wants to make sure you don’t burden yourself.
Edge
Utterly flabbergasted.
That’s all.
Confused even
Situationally you have two options: either you startled at something he also recognizes as a “threat” or you jump at something that just happened to scare you. Both of these options end with him looking at you like you are some combination of a deity and an oddly shaped cat. Confusion, wonder, adoration, a touch of horror—you get the picture.
More specifically, for the smaller option he will just straight up ask you wtf, but for the “big threat” option he gloats. Loudly.
He is about to get very loud.
Imagine something along the lines of “NYAHAHA YES FEAR ME AND MY HUMAN HAHAHA”
Edge is a skeleton that loves his theatrics what can I say.
You will also be put through a training regimen btw. It’s about the same as Papyrus’ just with more sparring. You did this to yourself.
Indigo
I’m so sorry but Indi picks fights.
He does
He’s shameless
Maybe you can try to physically pull him away from needling randos? Then again you jumping to his defense might just make him more confident and Worse.
You won’t get a workout regimen out of this guy though! Little victories.
for literally any other time where something just makes you jump and you grab him instinctually, he’ll play into it. You should tell him as soon as you can if that’s something you don’t want.
But he will dramatically jump into a fighting stance the second you start to tug him towards you.
He is always ready to defend his human’s honor.
Cash
He let’s you drag him back with very little resistance.
In all honesty he finds you jumping to his safety quite amusing, especially if it was from something small that just happened to make you jump and grab him with you.
If there’s ever a situation where you aren’t in immediate danger but near some (like some strangers getting into an altercation) Cash will absolutely allow you to do whatever you want.
He’s never gonna let either of y’all get into real danger, so as long as that doesn’t happen you are free to your instincts to try and protect him.
Hell, you might not even need to grab him with how much he loves to touch or hang off you. No sense of personal space truly.
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pikahlua · 6 months
Note
Thoughts on the official translation of 405?
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Yeah, thoughts abound.
1. Is the official translation of the final line in chapter 405 accurate? No.
2. Regardless, some people think it's inaccurate in really blatant ways that it actually is not. For example, some people think the official translation is changing some explicitly used pronouns around. If there's EVER anything about Japanese that isn't completely clear, it's what the pronouns should be--because the vast majority of them are implied.
3. Re: the "yeah yeah" line, I can conceive of a delivery of the line that does not sound disrespectful. That doesn't mean that's how the translator meant it, and this translator does have a habit of translating Katsuki's rude language with a certain *VIBE* that I don't always agree with--but that doesn't change the fact that Katsuki does speak very rudely and the translator clearly tries to capture that in the way they seem to think is best.
4. It's quite a leap to claim that this official translation is inaccurate due to deliberate malice, which I see a lot of people doing. From what I can tell, the translator just didn't realize the final line is a callback to chapter 322. Without that context, yeah, I can see how it'd be difficult to fully understand what's being said there, because enough of the words are vague or implied that it'd be confusing what Katsuki's talking about without that realization. Katsuki doesn't say "I (ore)" in the line, he says "kocchi (this/here)," which depending on the context can mean "I, we, us over here on this side (of the line, of the argument)." He also doesn't say "Izuku/Deku/that nerd" specifically, he says "aitsu (that guy over there)" with the kanji reading as "One For All." Without the context of chapter 322, it could easily read like "we'll wipe the floor with you where those One For All guys couldn't."
5. Building off #4, we need to be a little more self-aware as fans. When you are a big fan of something, you're gonna be more likely to remember specific lines and notice callbacks and be keyed into the little details. First of all, not everyone is capable of that, especially with respect to a long 405-chapter-and-counting manga. This line is referencing something that the translator hasn't necessarily seen in over two years. Should the translator have to comb back through the entire manga every week just to be safe? Is that really feasible? Of course I'd love for the official translation to be as accurate as possible, but when you're translating something on a weekly basis that isn't even finished yet, it's just a fact that there will be times you miss things. You don't always have the luxury of time to go back and check for things you've missed that need to be tied together. I've messed up lines in my translations before too. Please keep in mind this is the translator's JOB, not necessarily their PASSION. They're likely translating multiple projects at the same time for a meager paycheck. They've got a lot of stuff to remember from various projects at the same time, and they're gonna miss stuff on occasion. Did the translator "not care" in this case? I think it's far more likely the translator cares enough, but if they're not in the fandom they're not gonna care more than the fans nor should we expect them to.
The proper response is not to ATTACK THE TRANSLATOR'S LIVELIHOOD like I see MANY people doing, holy crap.
Translating is often a thankless job. No one writes Viz telling them how good of a job the translator is doing when they get 99% of the translations right. The most obsessive fans often jump on mistakes as if those mistakes are personal attacks. But we're complaining about 1 or 2 lines out of the whole chapter. The rest was pretty good. That's the case for most chapters. It's hard to justify claiming malice when the translator far more often than not gets it right. But goodness, attacking the translator is not going to endear you to anyone who matters. If the translation is something you truly care about and you want to foster nontoxic fandom spaces and have good relationships between the fandom and the producers, a more proper response would be something like:
"Hey Viz, I think the translator missed this key bit of context which could have helped him with this line's translation. I love Horikoshi's work and want the best for it, and I think the translator cares about doing a good job. Would you please let the translator know about this and have him look into it for the official print tankoban release in English?"
The more you alienate and dogpile the translator, the less they're gonna care about doing a good job.
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llyfrenfys · 7 months
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Some really good notes from my post courtesy of @margridarnauds about that person accidentally using a white nationalist slogan to support the Welsh language:
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I know someone who is doing a PhD on the Far Right and the co-option of cultural movements and these tags are bang on. Its the difference between a healthy nationalism and an unhealthy nationalism. A lot of this goes for Irish nationalism as well as it does for Welsh nationalism.
There's nothing wrong with (and arguably a lot right with) minority language preservation. It can be used for great good (strengthens community ties, preserves culture) but if co-option is not guarded against readily, it can also be used for great evil (see: using minority language struggles as an argument against immigration, for example).
The Far Right sees the cultural preservation of anything (white) and it's like a bat signal. These things are magnets for white supremacists and assorted fascists of all kinds. Which is why it is so goddamn important to be vigilant against people like that hijacking your movement.
I see a worrying amount of Welsh nationalists use (accidentally or not) the language of the far right to argue for Welsh language preservation. It can be as innocuous as advocating for a Welsh Academie Francaise to as obvious as insinuating that Wales must be kept "ethnically" Welsh in order to keep out foreign influence on the language. I see this go unchecked all the time in various Facebook groups for Welsh independence (most of which I've left since admins of these pages either don't know or don't care that people use their groups to share these sentiments).
Nationalism ≠ Fascism - but if you don't keep an eye on the company you're keeping, any well-meaning nationalist/independence or language preservation movement can be hijacked to promote hate. I only know a scant amount because I was only vaguely considering joining Yes Cymru a few years before they all went sideways (but I remember Owen Exie Hurcum talking about this on Twitter at the time) but the leadership of Yes Cymru began to squeeze out minorities from the group- nonwhite folks, gay people, trans people etc. Whole thing put me off from joining. I don't remember the full details but from the testimonies of others, the group was hijacked and steered into a reactionary way of being. Considering a large amount of Welsh nationalists also idolise groups like the FWA (Free Wales Army - a Welsh nationalist group formed in 1963 which tried to emulate the IRA in Ireland, with little success- mostly just playing paramilitary dress up) - whose symbol is this flag:
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Even if the flag itself is based on Welsh folklore and is supposedly an entirely innocent, non fash design- it still is like a beacon to the Far Right who will take any amount of symbolic validation as a cue to join your movement and derail it for their own ends.
Which is why Celtic scholars, people with casual interest in Celtic languages and/or their respective cultures and civic nationalists alike need to be vigilant against those who would co-opt the field for their own twisted hate campaign.
So, one final thought,
Returning to my original post responding to that American chiming into Welsh politics from overseas. Please PLEASE be careful when wading into politics that isn't yours. Where the Far Right are involved, it doesn't take much to cause a dumpster fire - if you aren't 'on the ground' with these issues so to speak, you aren't in the firing line if your comments go sideways and enable/provoke the Far Right in this country.
If you have an interest in Celtic languages, countries and politics- you have a duty to be responsible with what you do and say. This isn't to say that you cannot engage with these topics- but that you should exercise caution lest you accidentally worsen an already delicate situation.
This has been your regularly scheduled Celtic anti-fascist tedtalk. Please reblog to make sure more people become aware of how delicate things can be and how to prevent fascists from getting a foothold in this field. Thank you.
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asimplearchivist · 9 months
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‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’
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𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.
[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once). ⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽
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The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.
He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.
Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)
Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.
Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?
It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.
His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..
Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.
A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.
It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”
Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.
“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”
“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”
Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”
You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”
Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”
Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”
“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.
He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”
“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.
Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”
“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.
“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.
“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”
“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.
Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”
“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”
“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”
“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.
“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”
Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”
“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”
“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”
“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”
“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”
“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”
“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”
Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!
“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”
“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”
“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.
“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”
“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”
“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”
“Certainly.”
Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?
“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”
“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”
Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.
“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”
Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”
Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.
“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.
“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”
“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”
“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”
“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?
“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”
It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.
“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”
You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.
“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”
“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”
And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.
He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.
You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”
“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”
“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”
“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”
“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”
And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.
“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”
“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.
“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”
You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”
Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.
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Read the rest of the chapter here! :)
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pastel0rchid · 19 days
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Serendipity (1)
Din Djarin x Modern!F!Reader
Story Summary:
~Serendipity (n) - the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
You thought you were dreaming when you found yourself in the Star Wars universe. That was until an incident proved you deathly wrong.
You really wish you paid attention now when you watched the movies with your dad.~
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Being shot, blood
Author's Note: BAM! Sudden story drop that nobody asked for! I am warning everyone now, I am not the most knowledgeable about Star Wars lore. If there is anything wrong, please let me know so I can fix it! Most of my information will either come from the Wiki or from my dad (who inspired this story a lot)
Next Chapter
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As you slowly regain consciousness, the loud noises of a busy street fill your ears. You hear voices overlapping and merging in your foggy mind.
The ground beneath you is solid and scratchy, feeling like concrete.
When you open your eyes, the bright light invades your vision, causing you to squint. You groan softly as you try to sit up, and your body feels heavy as you go from an unconscious state to a conscious one.
You can't seem to remember what happened to make you lose consciousness. Your mind tries to recall the details, but it fails each time. Your memories are a blur; a hazy image of your family sitting in the living room, the faint smell of buttery popcorn, and falling asleep while watching a movie. You vaguely remember that it was something your father had picked out, and your mother playfully groaned about his choice.
As your eyes adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings while slowly sitting up. You find yourself in an alleyway, something dark and secluded.
You use the wall for support as you begin to stand, your legs trembling slightly. You don't know where you are or how long you've been unconscious, and that causes your heart to spike in fear. The smell of cooked food suddenly invades your nose, and you feel drool forming in your mouth.
You've been out long enough to develop an appetite.
Keeping your hand on the wall for support, you move toward the alleyway entrance. The smell of food is calling your name, and your stomach is grumbling. A cloaked figure suddenly passes by the alleyway, and you can't help but call out to them, begging for assistance in this unknown place.
"Excuse me! Do you know-"
Your sentence is cut short when the figure turns to face you. Their features had been hidden by the hood of their cloak. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of them being revealed, and time seems to freeze as your body processes the shock.
The figure isn't human, as evidenced by the red hue of their scaly skin and the yellow of their eyes. They begin to speak to you, but their words are garbled, and your brain struggles to understand what's going on. Their eyes stay locked on your trembling figure as they gesture to the area around them.
The alien pauses their talking, watching you curiously as if waiting for you to respond. Everything hits you at once, and your gut turns in fear as you stumble back away from them, falling hard onto your backside when you trip over your feet. Your wide eyes stay trained on the alien figure as they give you a weird look as if you are the abnormal one.
"What a nerve burner," the alien says under their breath as they turn to keep walking past the alleyway.
Once you are sure that the alien is long gone, you quickly scramble to stand on your feet, ignoring the ache in your joints from how fast you go and how long they've gone unused. Rushing out of the alleyway, your eyes squint as the sun's rays hit you.
Your breathing begins to quicken as you look around, your eyes adjusting to the sudden bright light and the sound of people talking getting louder and louder. People bump into you as you stand outside the alleyway, cursing at you in words you can't seem to understand. Your head whips back and forth as you take in your surroundings and the people around you.
You were in the middle of a marketplace.
The people around you, like the figure in front of the alleyway, have different alien features. You barely see anybody who looks even remotely human. Fear and adrenaline course through your veins as you try to take everything in.
"It's a dream. It has to be a dream," you mumble to yourself while using your hands to cover your eyes, which are slowly watering from fearful tears.
Voices overlap, languages mix, people bump into you and hiss harsh words in your direction. Everything is too much. You just want to wake up from this dream. Crouching down in the middle of the busy street, you cover your face with your hands, silently begging to wake up from this nightmare.
Your body flinches at the sudden feeling of a tiny hand grabbing the sweatpants you wore when you fell asleep on the couch. Slowly uncovering your face, you peer down at whatever has decided to approach your trembling form. Your heart skips a beat at the somewhat familiar face.
Round black eyes peer up at you from where they stand at your side. Its large green ears are folded down in presumed worry for you as its tiny three-fingered hand grips tightly at your pants.
"Patu."
Even with the loud commotion of the marketplace, you make out his little voice clearly.
Suddenly, you’re hit with short and fast clips of memories. Your father watching the Star Wars movies, you sitting on the couch while they played (they were more so background noise to you), joining him in watching the first few episodes of ‘The Mandalorian’ just because you found the green alien baby adorable but understanding nothing of the lore.
Everything around you slowly started making sense, your body relaxing as the thought hit you. You were having a Star Wars themed dream.
Reaching down, you carefully gather the little green alien into your arms, whose ears perk up as you bring him against your chest while slowly standing up. Your eyes, still wet from unshed tears, stare into his own, observing him silently before a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. His hand reaches up and gently places itself onto your cheek, and a wave of calm washes over you.
“Where’s your Mandalorian, little one?”
Your voice is slightly shaky from the anxiety that had been previously flowing through your veins. His head tilts cutely at your question. You knew he wouldn’t respond, but you wished that your dream version of him had a cute little voice. Your body turns in a random direction, set on walking wherever and knowing your dream would set you on the right path.
With your gaze solely focused on the child in your arms, your voice is soft as you talk to him. You ramble about anything and everything, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He even seemed intrigued as you began to talk about your family.
Something small suddenly whizzes past you with a loud whine, your head quickly turning to the source to find a group of aliens behind you, their gun-like weapons pointed at you. Your grip on the child gets a little tighter, a small concerned coo coming from him.
You remember one main thing from the show, and it’s the fact that a lot of people were tasked with hunting down the child. Of course, this plot point had to be transferred to your dream.
Thinking quickly, you turn back away from the group and begin running through the crowded streets with the child held close to your chest. His hand grips your shirt tightly as he peaks over your shoulder at the group that begins to follow after you.
Their overlapped yelling startled many passersby into making way for them, allowing them to gain on your heels quickly. You dodge and weave through the crowd with speed and agility you didn’t even know you had. Adrenaline will do funny things to people.
You search the crowd for any opening to escape through, your heart thundering in your ears before something large and shiny catches your eyes. Beskar armor!
The figure was looking around frantically, and you knew who he was searching for. The child in your arms bounces slightly as you push yourself to speed up toward the Mandalorian.
“Mando!”
His visor snaps in your direction, his body visibly tensing at the sight of the child in your arms, but more so at the group of aliens still chasing after you. He draws his blaster with a speed you had never seen before but with him, his aim pointed over your shoulder towards the aliens.
As you get closer and closer, your hand comes up to rest on the back of the child’s head, creating a safe cocoon for him in your arms. Your legs burned and your feet ached from running, but you were almost there. You were almost to the Mandalorian who still had his blaster trained on the group, seemingly waiting for you to get closer before risking the shot.
The sound of a blaster going off fills your ears, and a blinding pain erupts in your right shoulder. A sharp scream leaves your lips as your body is sent tumbling to the ground from the force of the shot. The child squeaks in your arms as you keep your arms around him, turning your body to the side to avoid crushing him under you.
It hurts when your body slams into the ground, but the wound in your shoulder throbs in a searing pain that you had never felt before in your dreams. Screams from the crowd around you begin to muffle.
Blaster fire could be heard over you, the sound of heavy bodies crumpling to the floor behind you.
The edges of your vision begin to blur, your eyes trained on the blood that began to ooze out from the wound in your shoulder and slowly pool below you. You could faintly hear the child whining, but he sounded so far away. As your vision slowly becomes overtaken by the darkness of unconsciousness, a metal-clad figure steps in front of you.
One last thought fills your head as everything goes black: This was definitely not a dream.
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