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#not having to do any of the hard work for the perfect love
nereidprinc3ss · 14 hours
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
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rafesmuse · 12 hours
Text
Theo Nott nsfw headcanons
pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: smut 18+, dirty talk, spanking, praising and degradation, choking, hair pulling, oral and vaginal sex
nav. // m.list // blurbs m.list
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obsessed with making out with you. he’d pull you onto his lap, grab your face and kiss you for hours
dirty talk in italian!!!!
“si, ti piace, piccola?”
mostly a dom. he likes having control and wants to take care of you
but also a very passionate lover. treats you like a princess even though he can be rough
lots and lots of praising (also in italian mixed with english)
“so beautiful, amore mio”
loves eating you out and he’s insanely good at it too. could have his head buried between your legs for hours and will hold your hips down until you’re shaking from overstimulation
neck kisses!!!!!!!!!
very possessive but is surprisingly open to threesomes— as long as it’s with one of his friends and not a stranger
horny 24/7. like seriously. this man craves sex every second of the day and could go for many rounds. insane stamina
he’s loving and passionate but he can be very rough and mean!
especially after losing quidditch game or when he’s jealous. he will degrade the living shit out of you, pull your hair and fuck you so hard until you’re crying and shaking
“aww, is it too much for my dirty little slut? so pathetic.”
falls asleep right away after sex while his arms are wrapped tightly around you
kinks
choking. his strong hand will be wrapped around your neck tightly most of the time as he pounds into you
spanking. has an obsession with your ass and will have you bent over his lap when you’ve pissed him off or made him jealous
edging. just loves hearing you beg. he also wants to make your orgasms as intense as possible so you scream his name for everyone to hear
cockwarming. will have you sit on his lap while he’s studying. firmly grips your hips when you’re trying to move up and down because he is a patient man and will fuck you after he has finished his work
praising. praises you so much during sex. tells you constantly how good you’re doing for him and how pretty you look. loves seeing you get all shy
face sitting. would let you sit on his face literally any time of the day. moans into your cunt while he firmly grabs your ass and fucks you with his tongue
favourite positions
missionary. like i said, he’s a passionate lover. any position where he is close to you with lots of eye contact is his favourite
cowgirl. occasionally he likes to just lie back and watch you ride him as your tits bounce up and down. the sight alone could make him cum on the spot. sometimes smokes a cigarette while he enjoys the show
spooning. he gets to be lazy but still feel you close to him. perfect position for him to wrap his hand around your throat or rub your clit
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reblogs and comments are very appreciated !!
taglist (join here): @xolaylaxo @one-direction-harry-potter1 @whoslunaaa @kayleiggh @daddysfucktoyslut @tellenically @lady-of-love-beauty-and-death @gardening-tool-for-sebby-stan @vintageirene @leelizzz @shxwty43 @heartthc @abaker74 @royalchickens @anahcruz15 @jasminejandee @stillinski25 @droplikeconfetti @burningdesirebby0 @oliviastrakerrr @itzliyalupin @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @liqvidlvvck @loveeharrington @demirunner @saturnmoonyy @nyctophicbtch @usuck @bigtiddywench @jac1ndaa @iluvweasleys @mih-velaryon @juletaylorsversion @scrletletter @ecliqwze @le000xxgrd @dramaticals @thepotatopigeon @etolies-garden
+ tagging my girls @drewstarkeyslut & @rafesthroatbaby 💘
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jeonginsleftcheek · 2 days
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Cuddling with Stray Kids
pairing: ot8 x reader
genre: fluff, suggestive
a/n: mentions of sex, mentions of anxiety, this is just my opinion, not proofread, hope you enjoy!🤍
additional notes: i have 12 things in my drafts and they're all over the place but i wanted to post something
Chan:
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I feel like Chan gives the best and biggest hugs so you will probably be drowning in his arms with your face buried in his chest or neck. It's probably late at night when you cuddle, and first you talk about your day and complain about your work or studies. Chan will listen to you and throw in a few quips here and there as he holds you and caresses your hair. Then you ask him about his day and he'll talk about his members and funny things they did or said. As it gets later, you both get quieter and Chan's favorite thing is when you put your leg around him and pull him even closer, leaning in and leaving kisses everywhere on his face. Every time you do that it makes him blush, no matter how long you've been together. Even though he usually says he can't sleep, he will fall asleep first in your arms because he feels relaxed and safe. Then you can admire his beautiful face before you drift off to sleep too.
Minho:
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I feel like Minho would also love facing you and talking to you while cuddling, but he would love to bury his face in your chest and leave little kisses everywhere. Most of the times he will also leave small bites and nibbles and you always warn him not to start anything cause you really want to take some rest. He always smirks and leaves a few more kisses on your neck. I think he would also love pressing his lips into yours, as his hand slides under your shirt and rests on your back. He would draw little patterns on your skin and his hand would always without a doubt slide down to grip your ass. Can you blame him though, you're hot and he loves you, he just can't help himself.
Changbin:
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Changbin would love it if you lay on his chest. He would put his arms around you and caress your hair and face. The sound of his heartbeat will always calm you down, any anxiety of the day will be wiped away as soon as you feel his big arms wrap around you. He would kiss your hair and forehead gently and ask you if you were okay and if you had a good day. You would talk with him but your eyelids would get heavy, it's hard not to fall asleep when he's touching you so gently like he's afraid to disturb you. His presence is calming to you and you feel so loved and safe.
Hyunjin:
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Hyunjin would love to be the big spoon and he'd hold you so close to him and so tightly that you think he might want to merge into you. His face would be buried in your hair, he just loves to inhale your sweet shampoo because it calms him down. His hands would be roaming around your body, and he would squeeze you gently a few times. But, Hyunjin can't help himself being this close to you while your perfect ass is pushed up against his middle so cuddling sessions almost always end with lazy sex.
Jisung:
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I think Jisung would love being both the big and the little spoon. If he's the little spoon, he'd love it if you held him real tight and also hold his hands at the same time. But, if he was the big spoon, I feel like he'd just grab and hold your boob. Nothing sexual, he just finds it relaxing to hold it and squeeze it like it's a stress ball. On some days, I feel like he wouldn't stop yapping while you cuddle and you would be playfully annoyed at him, so he would annoy you even more on purpose. He'd probably start talking nonsense or he'd start singing with an annoying voice. You would smack his butt and he'd just laugh because he enjoys teasing you. On other days, when he's really tired and in his head, he'd be quiet and he'd let you talk about everything and anything because the sound of your voice calms him down.
Felix:
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I think Felix would love to rest his head on your chest or tummy. This boy will be clinging to you like a koala, limbs all wrapped around you so you don't ever think of escaping. He would nuzzle his face in your chest or neck, and if he's laying on your tummy he will bury his face there and leave kisses on your skin. His hands will be all over you as will his lips, he can't help it, he adores you. I think cuddling sessions with him can go either way. Either he's falling asleep as you caress him or because he's a horny little thing he will end up with his face buried between your legs.
Seungmin:
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Okay so, I feel like Seungmin would love facing you while cuddling. Even though he's shy and it's hard to maintain eye contact for him, he loves the way you look at him, the admiration in your eyes. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, and the way you caress his cheek and hair. He would hold your waist and run his fingertips on your skin gently. If it's late at night, he'd probably sing you a gentle lullaby, especially if you had a bad day. He'd sing for you whenever anyways. I feel like he'd also love to exchange a few gentle kisses before both of you drift off together, holding onto each other tightly.
Jeongin:
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I feel like he'd be the most restless out of everyone while cuddling. He would love to spoon you, but after some time he would just start feeling jittery so he would play with your hair, poke your cheek or start tickling you. Your cuddling session would probably turn into play wrestling, as you both tried to tickle and annoy each other. When you're both almost breathless Jeongin will lean down to kiss you and let's just say that you're not going to sleep soon.
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Dating Lyney
Day #1 of writing for my beloved in an attempt to coerce him into showing up early. Come home, my little magician, I need you!
Please feel free to send me requests for what you want to see next!
Fandom: Genshin Impact Character: Lyney Warnings: Fluff, magic. Some mild spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest. Note: Some people consider Lyney to be a minor, so keep in mind that he's 18+ in this, even though there's no NSFW.
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So you wanna date the rizzler huh? You'd better be prepared, because he's the world's biggest flirt. It literally never stops, no matter if you've been together five weeks or five years. He's always going to have something suave to say, always going to keep surprising you with little magic tricks. It's just how he is, especially when he's passionate about something - or someone. You'd best be ready to hear him say he loves you twenty times a day, and you'd better say it back, too, or else he'll get that adorable pout on his face and hit you with the puppy dog eyes. Sometimes you wonder if the man has a serious bone in his entire body or if Lynette inherited them all, but you know him better than that.
Lyney is such a gentleman. He's ridiculously charismatic, but he's also so, so sweet. He'll do anything and everything for you. He pulls out chairs for you, holds your hand while walking - you'll definitely have to stop him from draping his cape across puddles for you like they do in the movies. It's a little cheesy, sure, but it's so endearing with that sweet, lovesick smile on his face, and you can't help but love him more for it.
He's a very observant person. It just comes with the territory. He's trained himself to pick up on the subtlest little details, and while this primarily applies to magic and his work, but it also applies very heavily to you. He notices everything about you, from what you order at restaurants you go to on dates to what color clothing you prefer to wear to the way your tone and expression naturally shift as you talk about different topics. He memorizes you, so much so that he'll surprise you with things you've mentioned once in his presence, or perhaps not at all - he's quite good at putting pieces together and figuring out things behind the scenes, after all. You once asked him if he had the ability to read your mind after he pulled a slice of your favorite cake out of his hat, and he merely laughed and replied, "a magician never reveals his secrets, my dear~"
Speaking of which, his laugh is one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. The little chuckles and laughs peppered throughout his speech are lovely, of course, but you know they're mostly part of the show he plays for the audience. Your true favorite is the way he laughs when you're alone with him, when you say or do something funny or catch him off guard. There's something so magical about it, like you're getting a private glimpse of his beautiful soul. One of your favorite memories is when you got him to laugh so hard he could barely breathe, a genuine smile stretched across his face and a delightful sparkle in his eyes.
During the early part of your relationship, he's very guarded and secretive, despite his open and outgoing persona. Depending on your thoughts about the organization, he might attempt to hide being a Fatuus from you, just because he's terrified of your reaction. He puts a lot of effort into appearing absolutely perfect, because he believes you deserve nothing less than perfection. Even if he is honest about his work, he holds back his innermost feelings and desires for quite some time, continuing to play the part that is required of him. He cares dearly about you, and he's not about to let you go because of a careless misstep on his part.
It takes him some time before he learns to be vulnerable with you. He's so convinced that he always has to be perfect, that he has to be strong for his siblings and for you, and he doesn't allow himself to show any of the negative emotions that haunt him day after day. Slowly but surely, however, you will break that wall down - brick by brick, if you must. He begins to lower his guard when you are alone, to let the mask slip and show his true feelings, even if they aren't glamorous, even if he hates them. Once he trusts you enough to show you the truth that he hides from even his siblings, your relationship grows even closer.
Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis
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mountainsandmayhem · 7 hours
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God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller
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Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader
18+ only!!!
Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.
CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.
AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo
Graphics by @saradika-graphics
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God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.
And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.
Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.
You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”
You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.
You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.
Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.
You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.
Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.
He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.
She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.
His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.
She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.
He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.
She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.
And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.
He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.
He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.
His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.
Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.
Yep, I’m going for it.
You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.
The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.
“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”
“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.
Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.
You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.
“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.
You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.
“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no
And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy the wicked
Oh, ruled his world”
Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.
“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.
You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.
You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.
“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”
Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.
“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.
He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”
You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
“Joel -” you start.
“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.
“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.
“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.
“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.
You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.
“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”
Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”
“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.
He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”
“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.
“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.
“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.
“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.
“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.
“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”
“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”
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@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81
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thatacotargirl · 22 hours
Text
Shadows and Surprises (3)
Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.
Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe
Y/N POV
You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.
"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.
"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.
"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.
"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.
You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.
"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.
"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.
"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".
You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.
"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.
"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.
"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".
"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.
"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.
"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.
Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".
Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.
"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".
Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.
Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."
"Mor?" you asked.
"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.
"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".
Azriel smiled. "Now".
Azriel's POV
After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.
"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.
"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.
"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.
"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.
-
It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.
"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".
"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.
"Are you ok?", he asked.
"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.
"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.
"What for?".
"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".
"You're daft".
Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.
"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".
Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.
"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.
"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Y/N's POV
I think I would like that.
WHAT.
You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.
Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.
-
A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.
“Come in”, you called.
Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.
“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.
“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.
“You ready?”, he asked.
“Ready”.
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circeyoru · 1 day
Text
Entertainment & Attachment = Requested
[Poltergeist!Alastor x Medium!Reader]
The Request
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For as long as you can remember, you were different from the people around you. No one understood you, no one could be by your side like you’d wanted. You couldn’t rely on others like a human should, as social as humans were made to be, you can’t be normal. You can’t make long lasting friends, and you can’t even rely on your family. For years, you thought you were an anomaly
In your eyes, you see things. Things others can’t. As clear as day, you’d see a transparent figure walking or floating around. Some were fine to stare at, but some were living nightmares to even spare a glance. As a child, you’d point them out and try to convey that there was something there to your parents or friends, they’d all say you were doing all that for attention
So as you grew, you learned to keep quiet about what you saw, even ignoring them altogether. You found out some time later that these were things called spirits, entities of the departed. Or what’s more commonly known as ‘ghosts’
You were lonely and so you did what you anyone would, seek companionship
You approached the little boy that was already in the storage room, he was quite harmless and rarely ever moved out of the room. He was aware you could see him, but he never made any movement to approach you. When you kneeled down in front of him and called out to him, tears came down his eyes and quiet sobs turned to cries. You tried calming him down, yet through his cries, you caught what would make your heart ache
“You noticed me! Someone noticed me! No one noticed me until now! No one cared that I died!”
“... What’s your name? Want me to make you a little burial?”
“What’s a burial?”
“It’s… Something… Something to honour the dead. A place for you to sleep and rest. To move on.”
“I… I want that…”
From then on, you’d try to approach similar spirits like that boy. It turned out, the spirits you saw couldn’t move on and stayed where they died or was most attached to. Hearing their stories was always hard for you, since you’d feel their emotions when they spoke to you like a tidal wave, but all was worth it when you get to see their figure fade to nothingness and a peaceful smile on their faces
While you studied and made yourself a stable lifestyle, you grew to be more adapt in your little world of spirits. You found yourself more at ease there because there was nothing to hide and you were accepted in a way. Everything was so very good for you, there were ghostly friends you’ve made that weren’t ready to pass on because they were busy to something, the most heartwarming ones were them staying to be their loved ones’ presence
There were many that wanted to communicate to spirits like you could hear them. You don’t feel like being a parrot since it lacked that emotional quality. So you built a radio box, or what’s more commonly known as a ‘spirit box’. A device that can allow spirits to communicate through radio frequencies, or something like that
It worked wonders and allowed you to communicate with spirits more easily as well. You slowly modified it to be smaller so you could carry it around, then perfecting it when it hang to your side like a handbag. It worked on electricity, but it has little solar panels so it could constantly charge when you out and about
Yet everything changed when you received a particular call from a homeowner. You made a visit, when you were there, they were positive that their house was hunted. Everytime technology was used, phones, TVs, and even the tablets, it’ll all glitch and malfunction. There was a foul stench in the basement that can never be cleaned. Mostly, the master bedroom and study was always cold
The family tried everything, even trying to renovate the place and destroy the house to build a new one over it. But mysteriously, the workers would fall ill, have unexpectable accidents, tools gone missing ot malfunctions. These were the better endings, at times, someone would end up dead
The parents begged you to do something, they had children, they can’t let this continue. You fail to understand this familial bond. Seeing the little children so close with their parents, how you envied them. But you don’t blame your ability to see or communicate with them, you welcome your title as a ‘medium’. That was in the past either way, this is the now
You couldn’t promise that you’ll ‘deal with the problem’ as they phased it, but you’ll try. Either way, you advised that it was best they were prepared to move out. You can’t say for certain, but you think this spirit was very very attached to the memories in the house, or the fact that it was once their possession
From the moment you stepped through the front door, you felt a heavy weight over your body, you felt a chill around you that was constantly shifting, even more around your little radio invention. You could feel eyes on you, staring at you like a predator has its next prey
You went to the basement when the family left you to your own devices. You had to cover your mouth and nose with a handkerchief so you could stand and walk down the steps. The deeper you gone, the worse it got. You wanted to back away, but you couldn’t help it, you were worried for that linger spirit more so than the family
When you got to the basement, you noticed that it was quite empty and dusty. There was only an old table and a chair, you found a light switch and turned it on, the lights flickered on, but only dimly lighting up the room, giving it an eerie vibe
It wasn’t until you turned on the radio that the stench was completely gone. You were shocked yourself, but not of the lack of rotten smell in the room. More so on the transparent hand that tried to play with the radio while you were still tinkering with the dials
“I’m surprised to see one of these old machines. What with all those fancy technology, I thought radios went extinct! Hahaha! This has to be an invention of your own making. A very well made one I much compliment. Finally someone with taste!”
“What unfinished business do you have? I’ll try to resolve it so you can move on.”
“Oh, you can see me? And hear me? Why! This day is turning out to be quite entertaining indeed! My Dear, make no mistake. I have no unfinished business.”
“Then why haven’t you leave this realm when you died?”
“Because my death was one I didn’t expect nor did I welcome it. Imagine, you minding your own business and suddenly you were shot in the head and mistaken for a harmless deer. Anyone would be enraged by such a death. No, no. I don’t think I’ll ever move on. Though, thank you for asking and trying.”
“So you need to accept your death then.”
“Accepted? Hahaha! Dear, I have accepted my death! I deserve it quite honestly! Do you know why? Because I was the reason why many died.”
The spirit, or Alastor as he introduced himself, was a former radio host. That wasn’t the detail you focused on, it was the fact that he was once a serial killer. He wasn’t a vengeful spirit, more of an unrest one. So that calmed you down, somewhat
It wasn’t the first time you encountered spirits that were once dangerous human beings when living. You met some robbers and even human traffickers, but you listened to their stories and helped them pass on. There were always some that you couldn’t do much to help except warn others away from the area so the spirit wasn’t disturbed
But Alastor. He was the first serial killer you encountered. One so shameless in his crimes and prideful of his work too. He didn’t hide the gory details and his creepy human knowledge whenever you were around
As you didn’t stay at the house and would only investigate the house (him) for the duration of the afternoon, Alastor would talk your ear out the moment you step through the front door. When you left to stay at the hotel room you rented, Alastor would wave you bye and stay at the doorway as though he was the host of the house bidding his guest a good day
Of course, you couldn’t stay forever and you had to leave. With Alastor’s activity, you stayed firm on your advice for them to stay somewhere else that wasn’t this house. Then you left, oddly enough, you didn’t feel unrest that you left things between you and Alastor unsettled. Especially when you told him that was your last visit and he gave you a cryptic answer on whether he’ll continue to ‘haunt’ the house
“The family here will return tomorrow, will you leave them alone?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure, Darling, maybe I will and maybe I won’t. Who knows? I go where entertainment takes me you see.”
“Can’t you answer a simple yes or no?”
“Hm… Maybe!”
When you were back home, you noticed how spirits seem to avoid you a bit. Some even flinching and hiding when you walked pass. The moment you tried to approach spirits, they outright flee like you were a ghost scaring them in a haunted house. You were always left wondering if you did something
Still, it all made sense just as you heard the familiar voice of a spirit that should even be in your room. Looking up from your phone, you saw Alastor smiling down at you with his hands behind his back while he floated over your form on the bed. You took note of the faint trail of red smokey substance connecting him to your radio on the far end of the room
You quickly figured out that Alastor changed attachments, from the house he lived and killed in to your radio. When did it start? Perhaps the day after you saw Alastor, then he slowly moved attachments and connected to the radio. He was a beloved radio host during his glory days after all
“Darling, you approach other spirits too. Why not talk to some more actively ones instead of the common folk? I can provide some assistance. You see, I am quite feared and persuasive too. And I’m sure you know that I am no dainty stick figure. Your noble quest to help spirits pass on, I’ll lend you a hand! For my ongoing entertainment, I’ll protect you from anything. What do you say?”
Now you understood his answer. You were his entertainment and true to his words. He followed you, perhaps follow isn’t the right word. Attach, yeah
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Note: Just a treat. I'm getting back my free time so I did this. Hehe. A bit long and boring though. Oh well
Circe Y.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala
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hwangism143 · 3 days
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dim lights (work nights)
synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.
pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst
warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!
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"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.
You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."
One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.
"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."
A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.
But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.
You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.
"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.
A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.
You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.
You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.
Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.
However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.
You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.
You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.
You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.
Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.
"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"
You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.
Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?
Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.
Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.
You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.
"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."
You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.
Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.
"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.
Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.
You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.
Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.
"Working hours are over," you said wearily.
"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.
You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"
Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.
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main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows
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solannn · 3 days
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𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒 𝐋’𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
⤷ bsd men ; what’s their fav things to do with their lover ? gn reader, might be hinted male. Established relationship, can be imagine as bf or husband.
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˒ ⏤ 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 ;
• ⮑ i feel like, he would love doing chores with you. Like chore dates /hj
• ⮑ like he’s in the kitchen, washing the dishes with you. While he dulled the dirty plates, and made a pile of plates. You rinsed the plates and the piles. He found it fun to do chores with you, he loved it.
• ⮑ he seems like the person who hates chores or duties, however he isn’t. Sometimes he could be lazy to do it, when he isn’t in a mood. He def listen to music while doing it.
• ⮑ he will probably play with the foam from the dishwashing liquid, and put some froth on your nose, for a laugh.
• ⮑ i think, while he scrubing the dirt of the dishes, at the same time he would, he puts some music to enjoy their moments together. (It’s song about sucide) he propose to sang the song, with him. How could you refuse, this guy who was such a tease to you
9/10, it’s pretty cute that he’s helping you with chores, without getting bored.
˒ ⏤ 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 ;
• ⮑ bikes dates, like he’s showing you his fav place at midnight.
• ⮑ like he’s taking to the countryside, late at night after a long day at work. You’re holding his waist, tightly as you sat on the behind him. As he start the cycle and began to move it forward slowly. The breezing air was going through your long/short.
• ⮑ The warmness of your held, making him smile slightly. Sometimes, on middle of the road, he would ask you if you’re doing okay, or wondering if you’re asleep.
• ⮑ he loves taking you to his favorite place, the landscape is always so beautiful. He does that, with a grin on his face he also does that after a stressful day.
• ⮑ the countryside is mostly a village is often a place where traditional ways of life are still practiced or, has rustic charm, with its thatched-roof cottages and winding streets. It’s so lovely, the ancient woods, which were still used to build houses, the trees and bushes which surrounded several villages. Lights illuminated their view, to better see the landscape. The stars shone brightly, and the moon was reflected by the sun.
10/10 it’s makes me feel sleepy, if someone does that to me, specially if i had a hard day.
𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 ;
If you’re a musician/violonist ;
• ⮑ you loved, music, and syncs melody and so does Fyodor.
• ⮑ don’t you think a violinist and a cellist, are the most perfect duo for each other ?
• ⮑ To calm down after a hard day, or you just want to relax with your partner. The music filling in the room, they didn’t need the lyrics, the intrusment was already perfect.
• ⮑ While you play violin, he plays cello with you, creating the most beautiful and elegant melody. The song was relaxing to both of your ears.
• ⮑ A harmonious, and tuneful melodious sound filled the room, Fyodor’s eyes was closed, enjoying the melody you made, with him. You and Fyodor were having fun, no matter what melodious music he started playing, you could follow him, or recognize the music without any problem. Once the music stopped, Fyodor opened his eyes again, looking at you and curve his lips into a grin. Fyodor had noticed, but not you. Nikolai and Sigma were in the same room, they were curious to hear such synchronized music. Nikolai was amused, as he clapped his hands, quickly, whereas Sigma clapped softly, while glaring at the excited clown.
idk what to rate him, i don’t even play instruments
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cookiesaddict · 17 hours
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Full Moon + Apology Tour Episode Analysis/Prediction
Full Moon
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The episode stars with Stolas and Blitz waking up on the day of the full moon. Their duet starts, Blitz sings how excited he is for their usual full moon date and the things he wants to to do Stolas in bed. Stolas is excited as well, but anxious. he wants to end their arrangement, and give Blitz to choice to stay or go.
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Blitz arrives at imp headquarters. Blitz is in his formal clothes, ready for his and Stolas’ date. He puts Moxxie in charge, and leaves all of his paper work for Moxxie to deal with while he is gone (poor Moxxie).
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But before visiting Stolas, Blitz wants to make their night extra special by giving Stolas a romantic gift. With his shopping bag in his hand, he goes to the lust ring asking Fizz for help to find the perfect gift for Stolas.
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Blitz arrives at Stolas’ palace, the gift is in his hands what seems to be candles I think? Blitz thinks they’re going to go bed like usual, only to find out that this is not what’s going to happen. Stolas admits to ending the arrangement. Soon, an argument between the two breaks out.
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Blitz feels used now that Stolas is ending their deal, thinking that Stolas doesn’t want him anymore. Their argument escalates. And instead of letting Stolas in, Blitz starts to push Stolas away by probably saying something very hurtful to him. Blitz now realizing that he has hurt Stolas badly, desperately tries to reach out to him by trying to grab his hand. But as he does so, Stolas kicks him out of his palace by using a portal. It’s too late now, Blitz has lost Stolas. Then the episode ends.
Viv has said that “You’re losing me” by Taylor Swift is a very Stolas coded song. A part of the lyrics goes like this:
“Now, you're runnin' down the hallway
And you know what they all say
You don't know what you got until it's gone”
By losing Stolas, Blitz realizes now what he had in Stolas and what he has lost. Or maybe he realizes this later in “Apology Tour”?
Apology Tour
(This one was really hard for me to predict. It could go in so many ways, so I’m most likely wrong.)
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Blitz visits Stolas, probably to get back into Stolas’ good graces again. But Stolas is not having it. He is still very angry and hurt. He is obviously not happy to see Blitz again. “Do you feel any remorse for what you do?” Judging by this line, Blitz is likely downplaying everything and acting like nothing has happened (Like he did with Barbie). Either way, Blitz attempt to apologize and win Stolas back has failed. So he goes back home, and starts crying on the couch? (him crying on the couch could very well be from another episode)
Eventually, Stolas decides to join Verosika on tour. Verosika likely wants to help Stolas with his break up, and wants to give him a change to vent about Blitz and pour his heart out on stage. Blitz decides to go to Verosika’s concert for some reason. Maybe he goes to the concert to try to apologize to Stolas again? He did seemed to be really focused into trying to apologize to Stolas at the beginning of the ep, so is he is going to try again?
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Blitz soon finds out he is not welcome at the concert, which is why he is dressed up as a ghost or something so he could sneak in unoticed? It’s a Halloween concert anyways. Eventually, Blitz bumps into Verosika. Maybe it will result in them finally making up and for Blitz to apologize to her?
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The concert begins, and Stolas finally takes the stage. Unaware that Blitz is there, he starts to sing. Judging by the text on the banner, Stolas is singing about his grudge towards Blitz and how hurt he is. The scene with the shattered mirrors with Blitz’ reflection in it during Stolas’ song, also supports that it is possibly a grudge song. It could also be Stolas singing how hurt he is, rather than it being a grudge song, which seems more likely to me?
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But maybe as the song progresses, it gradually turns into a love song because he loves Blitz just too much to stay angry at him? While Stolas is singing, Blitz is hearing every word. Blitz looks at him. Is he touched by Stolas’ love song? I think Blitz now knows that Stolas genuinely does love him, since Stolas doesn’t know he is there. So there are no reasons for Blitz to not believe everything Stolas is singing. Not just that, but it will also gave Blitz an insight on how much Stolas is hurting.
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However, it seems that Stolas isn’t angry at Blitz anymore. Because in the next scene, Blitz and Stolas appears to be talking (Blitz still has that same ghost disguise on). Looks like Blitz apologized to Stolas, and that they are finally making up. Maybe even confessing their feelings for one another? Who knows, maybe decide to take things slow? It could also be that they just stay friends for now. But I feel like they’re definitely making up. The episode ends.
(Also There is also a whole b plot with m&m and Loona fighting a robot at the lust ring. Not sure if it’s from the same episode? Also I have literally no clue why the robot is there.)
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tac-the-unseen · 1 day
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Gifts the slashers would enjoy
Fluff
Minor updates for formatting
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Micheal Myers:
•Arts and crafts supplies
-He's enjoyed making Paper Mache masks most of his life. It's very likely that he enjoys other forms of art as well, but couldn't express that in the ward for fear it would be taken away.
-Dr. Loomis sucks
-Giving him art supplies now, would end up in him making his art in secret. He feels embarrassed to like such a simple thing. That shame is intensified if you ask to see it. He'll end up leaving it out so you can see it without directly showing it to you
•Candy Corn, circus peanuts, and Crunch bar.
-Are they his favorite? No. But they bring back good memories, and for Michael, that's enough.
-would spend a good chunk of time snaking on the sweets while you spend time with him
-Can be bribed into a lot of shenanigans with candy
•Homemade meal
-He rarely had anyone make him dinner. His mom being a ‘working’ woman ment that he had to fend for himself come dinnertime.
-Knowing that you wanted to, and found time to make him dinner make him feel that icky (Nice), bubbly feeling in the center of his chest
-minor Headcannon: first time this happened Micheal thought he was having a heart attack.
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Horror movie merchandise
-Their collectors. If you manage to get your hands on something they don't have, they'll give you anything you want in return.
-will trip over themselves trying to replay you
-Stu would actually kiss the ground you walk on if you ask
•Jewelry
-They both appreciate necklaces, bracelets, and RINGS
-Stu is a gold guy, Billy is a sliver guy.
-They’re like crows. Anything shiny will end up in their pockets. Imagine Stu showing off his rings like a newly proposed to woman. Fawning over the design and/or jewels.
•knives/knife sharpener
-They collect knives of different quality and look
-they better ones they use to hunt. The best ones and the weaker ones are put on display like trophies.
-No matter the quality you get, it's the fact it came from you but they care about
Thomas Hewitt:
•Flowers
-Thomas is a sucker for old ‘traditional’ romantic actions
-Seeing you hold up hand-picked flowers makes his heart gush. He thinks you look so precious, wanting to make him happy.
-sometimes he'll catch you, out of a window, picking flowers just so you can give it to him. He'll never tell you, and will always act surprised when you present the bouquet.
•Bones
-its simple and an abundant resource at the house. There's always bones somewhere, and Thomas knows how to use the bones
-They’re good for making repairs, as tools, and as decorations
-You 10000% have a bone bracelet that Thomas made for you when you guys started to get more serious
•Desserts
-Thomas won't admit it, but he has a sweet tooth. Why do you think Luda mae spends so much time baking?
-While a good pie is enough to send this man to his knees, any other baked good will do.
-He likes cherries and strawberries, but because of how expensive they are he doesn't tell anybody that it's his favorite. He doesn't want anybody ‘wasting’ money or resources on him.
Bubba Sawyer:
•Flowers
-Bubba loves flowers. Any kind of flowers is enough for him to let out squeals of happiness. He loves seeing them around the farm, and plants them around the house when he has spare time.
-So when you go to town and come back with a bouquet of flowers just for him, nearly crushed you with hugs.
-Keeps them alive for as long as possible then perseveres them in notebooks and in salt
•Quilting supplies
-Bubba is really good at handling leather. Those human skin masks are hard to make, and human leather is so incredibly delicate.
-On top of that, he is a family man. He want to make things that help his family. So he makes blankets!
-its a fine craft and perfect in enhancing his skills.
•Good old quality time
-He loves spending his time with you! If he could spend all day with you, he would.
-So sitting down and cuddling means that absolute world to him. He cherishes his time with you and it what he looks forward to everyday. It's why he wakes up in the morning. It's why he tries hard everyday. He wants to spend every day starting and ending with you!
Bo Sinclair:
•Tools
-If your in the workshop often enough, you'll know what ends replacing.
-Bo is as stubborn as stubborn comes, so he won't get new tools until they physically can't do their job anymore.
-If you get him new tools he will begrudgingly take them, but after an hour or two he'll find you just so he can thank you ‘properly’.
•Cigarettes
-The boy smokes
-Don’t know what else to tell you
-Will kiss you when you give it to him though
•Kids Toys
-Sounds weird, but having his childhood taken away from him leaves him wanting to fill up the gaps.
-when looking through a victim's car you found a two handed water ring-toss toy. when you showed Bo He just rolled his eyes and kept working on his Truck. You started playing with it when at the shop, even leaving it there on a few occasions. Every time you left it there, He would take it and sneak into the back room of the shop to play with it.
-it brought him immense joy. One day he forgot to put it back, and when you asked about it he berated you for losing your things and expecting him to keep track of your belongings. He never told you, and would rather die than admit it.
Vincent Sinclair:
•Art/craft supplies
-Its a given, really
-He very rarely get new art supplies (if you don't count corpses) so it’s nice to get replacements.
-Will take anything you give him, honestly
•Books
-Vincent isn't always making art. Sometimes art can get boring for him, or he hits a rough patch and doesn't know where to go from there.
-A book can easily help, Whether it's just something else to do or it helps him overcome his art block. He will oftentimes get up from his work space and find another spot to sit down and read.
-He loves it when you read to him. It's nice to just listen to something while you work.
•Hoodies
-with his combination of body issues and wanting to be cozy, A hoodie seems to be the best option.
-Even though it is hot in Louisiana, The cool basement and even cooler nights need a little warmth.
-loves the feeling of the softer cloth and with it being a present, makes it all the better.
Lester Sinclair:
•Lip balm
-Lester has a hard time with hygiene. No one ever really taught him how to take care of himself.
-So when you notice Lester had chapped lips and gave him some lip balm something in his brain short circuited. The fact that YOU want to help him, makes his heart swell.
-keeps it in his pocket and constantly reapplies it
•Car freshener
-Even with him blind to the smell of death, the hot Louisiana sun will intensify the foul smell 10 fold. You knew it was bad when you could smell the truck before you could see or hear it.
-You ran out of town and bought several packs of air fresheners for his truck. You told him that you do love him, just not the smell that lingers when he gets home from work. Lester doesn't want to make you gag every time he gets into bed with you.
-He likes the Strawberry, sugar cookie, and fresh linens scent best
•Dinner
-He’s not the ‘I better come home to a hot plate of dinner' kind of guy, but he really appreciates it when he does. Even though Bo is a semi-good cook, anything after years of having it will get boring.
-Having you cook for him (and most likely his brothers) is a nice change of pace.
-Will eat anything you cook. Whether it's ‘good’ or ‘bad’ he will happily eat it all.
Billy Lenz:
•Being read too
-Isn’t a physical present but he loves your voice. He wants to read but has A) a hard time focusing and B) has a hard time reading in general
-Having you read to him calms him down and gets him settled enough to sit still and/or do an activity smoothly
-Reading to him 100% makes him fall asleep in the end. And boy does this insomniac need it
•Crochet equipment
-After learning how to Crochet he can't stop. He runs through String like a mad man. He has made you 6 sweaters and increasing in quality over time
-Will give you a list of all the colors he wants and will wait patiently on your bed for you to come back.
-Gets ridiculous excited when he's given new supplies. Will be your lap dog for weeks after
•String lights
-Doesn't have to be Christmas themed, he just really likes the lights. Like a moth drawn to flames.
-likes to fall asleep with them on, it's like Billy’s own big night light.
-Has gotten too close to them and accidentally ripped them down. He tried to hide them so he didn't get in trouble, and actually cried when you found out.
Brahms Heelshire:
•Clothes
-You wondered why his clothes were so ill-fitting for a long time before you realized, that's his dad's old clothes.
-coming to that realization you manage to figure out his proper size and (after some minor fighting) when out to get him a much needed upgrade. When you came home he was waiting by the door, waiting for you. Giving him his new clothes was like telling him you would never leave again, he was ecstatic. He ripped the bags out of your arms and ran into his room so he could try them on
-He fell in love with the sweaters you got him, with a nice couple pairs of khakis. It wasn't much of a transition from his old clothes but that's just what he likes.
•Movies/Movie night
-The only movies he's seen are from his childhood, and he can barely remember them. His parents didn't think movies were healthy for a growing boy, so they only allowed him books to pass the time
-When you proposed a movie night he had a couple questions and even a bit of hesitation. “What if they melt my brain?” He asked with genuine concern. After you posed another question back “Why wouldn't they have melted my brain yet?” Did he trust you.
-You started with childhood classics before getting into the more ‘adult’ stuff. He loved every minute of it
•Picnics
-While Brahms isn't a fan of going outside, the garden is the only exception. You wanted him to go outside because orange juice can only do so much for a vitamin D deficiency.
-He said the only way he would go outside was if you had a Picnic and put his sunscreen on. Making sandwiches with chips and then lathering him in 80 SPF he went outside in a tank top layered with a crocheted vest and shorts, had him outside fairly quickly
-Now he wants a picnic every summer
Hannibal Lecter:
•Wine
-After dating for a while you started to notice where Hannibal got his expensive foods and wines
-you also noticed what he actually liked and what he was just experimenting with. While fruity and floral flavors were always favored, herbs and Nutty wines were much lower on his list.
-With that in mind you got a Cherry lavender wine from Greece. When you gave it to him he was actually shocked you were paying attention to his preferences. He told you most people just buy cheap wine and expect him not to notice.
-The wine you picked out now has a permit spot saved on his wine shelf.
•Paper bouquet
-Paper made into the shape of different flowers all wrapped up in another paper tying it all together. It's cute, classy (though he would never display it openly), and will never wilt!
-He had told you about the complexity of life using flowers as an example and how they wilt. So you decided to make flowers that can't wilt to not only sass him but to give him something
-He put them in a paper vase he made (in only what you can assume was) in his free time.
•Friendship bracelets
-What was originally a gag gift turned out to be one of his favorite gifts.
-You thought there was no way in hell THE Hannibal Lecter would wear cheap bright string woven together, but you were wrong.
-You had made some friendship bracelets out of old string you found in some old stuffed away box and laughed at the idea of Hannibal finding it in his desk drawer. So you did just that, just to come to the shocking realization that during a meeting with the F.B.I he was wearing it, hidden under his sleeve. You had a very hard time containing your laughter that night.
Will Graham:
•Quality time with you!
-Life has always been stressful for Will. So some alone time with you is always a great gift.
-No need for fancy dinners, events, or holidays. Just sitting down to watch whatever pops up on the T.V screen is enough for him.
-Bonus points if the pack joins in for a cuddle session!
•Handwritten letter(s)
-Having a man with a different then most emotional attachment style is hard. Will might not always what to be physically touched or poked at. Sometimes he doesn't even want to talk (Common coping mechanism for Autistic people)!
-But even when he gets like this, it's still nice to get some reassurance. You started writing him little notes around the house a while ago and slowly you noticed Will’s mood improving significantly.
-He found it very sweet that you were taking the time to meet him on a level he was comfortable with. The two of you don't speak about it often but the notes persist.
•New fishing gear
-anything fishing related is always an appreciated
-New lears, poles, vests, hooks, bait even. Anything even if he already has it, he will take it happily
-He’ll take you fishing with his new gear you got him and will happily teach you if you don't know how to fish
The Lost Boys:
•Jewelry
-All four vamps love jewelry of any kind
-All of them have earrings, bracelets, and necklaces so why not give them Something they can say they got from their S/O!
-David and Marko prefer bracelets, David’s gloves wouldn't mesh well with rings, and he thinks a necklace might make him seem less intimidating. Marko would chew on a necklace and worse could get caught during a fight. Rings would be damaged either due to said fighting and/or his painting. Bracelets are that perfect in-between!
-Dwayne and Paul like Rings for different reasons. For Dwayne Rings have that ‘marriage’ aspect to them. Not to say rings mean marriage, but historically speaking…it's like putting your claim on him and he's thriving for that.
-Paul likes rings to fidget with. He already has rings he uses as ways to occupy his hands when something or someone isn't. Will 100% show off his ring you gave him to the others.
•Gift boxes
-The boxes full of pictures, candy, and other meaningful things
-They all go feral over those boxes, especially the first ever box. It was filled with your own little doodles, candy you know they like, mini bottles of whiskey, and a note telling them about how much you care about them and where to meet you for the night.
-if you plan to do this more often make sure each boy gets to keep something or they WILL fight over it.
•ScrapBooks
-Memories bunch up and fade when you're a vampire. They can't always remember the little things, so having a book of all those memories they can look back at is great idea!
-You even found a creative way to include them in pictures! They can't be seen in photos, but they're shadows can! You take pictures under street lamps and make silly poses. You have a picture of Paul dramatically falling into Marko's arms while Dwayne and David kiss either side of your face.
-All those silly pictures combined with your and Marko’s creativity ends up in some fun, colorful, memories
Thanks for reading <3
(You know I write a fuck ton when It started glitching out. Like it would freeze while I was formatting it correctly 😭)
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pockettwinzz · 2 days
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My Heaven - S.JY
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୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Fluff, Angst, Toxic parents, Kissing, SFW, not proofread
୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : wrote this in a haste cause i really wanted to release smth for the weekend so I apologize if it's bad :3. Also enhypen's releasing a new version of dark moon ><
୨୧ Word count ୨୧ : 1.7k
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As you sat in your new college classroom, your mind drifted away from the mundane lecture on ancient history. You couldn't help but wonder how the rest of your college experience would turn out. With your perfect 4.0 GPA from high school, you had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. However, even though you had been top of your class and had received countless awards and accolades, it seemed that your parents were never truly happy with you. They constantly pressured you to study even harder and to strive for even greater heights.
Meanwhile, Jake, who had coasted through high school with mediocre grades and minimal effort, had been welcomed into this new university with open arms. Everyone seemed to love him, and he was constantly surrounded by a group of friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you watched him laugh and joke with them during the break.
As the semester progressed, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the workload. Your classes were more challenging than you had anticipated, and the constant pressure from your parents only made matters worse. You often found yourself staying up late into the night, hunched over your books, tears streaming down your face as you tried to understand the complex concepts and theories.
Life wasn't going how you wanted it too and seeing others, mostly Jake, sucked up to the professors, get high grades without much effort made you feel even worse. You didn't understand why your parents always thought you were useless. You tried to talk to them about it, to tell them that you were doing your best, but they never listened. They just kept pushing you harder, telling you that you could do better. You started to lose hope, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of academic expectations.
You never knew when it happened, maybe when Jake stole the first position, or maybe when he scored more marks from you on that one chemistry practical, but it was safe to say you hate him. You hated him for being so perfect, for being so loved, for being able to do everything effortlessly while you had to work your ass off to get even a B. You hated him for making your life miserable, for making you feel like you were never good enough, for making you feel like you were nothing but a burden to your parents.
One day, after yet another grueling exam, you decided that you'd had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. You walked up to Jake in the hallway, your hands shaking with anger and frustration. "Why do you get everything so easy?" you demanded, your voice quivering with emotion. "Why does everyone love you and hate me?"
Jake looked taken aback by your outburst, his perfect features twisting into a frown. "What?".
"Why does it always have to be like this?" you cried, your voice cracking. "Why does everyone always love you and hate me? I just want to be normal, just once!" You felt like you were about to burst, like all of the anger and frustration you'd been feeling for so long was building up inside of you, ready to explode. You didn't know why you were telling Jake any of this, but you couldn't help it. You needed someone to understand.
Jake hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally, he took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look, I get it," he said softly. "It's hard sometimes, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. But you know what? You're amazing. You're smart, and talented, and you've got so much to offer. You just need to believe in yourself, okay?"
"Shut up" you snapped, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. "You don't understand anything. You've never had to struggle, never had to fight for anything." You turned away from him, anger and hurt burning in your chest. "Stop pretending to be so nice. I hate it, I hate you"
Jake let out a sigh, looking genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry if I've ever done anything to make you feel that way," he said quietly.
You turned back to him, tears streaming down your face. "It's not just you," you sobbed. "It's everyone. I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like a burden." Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek.
"You're not a burden," he said gently. "And you are good enough. You're more than good enough. You just need to remember that." He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "And you know what? If it means that much to you, I'll help you. I'll help you get through this."
You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you want me to help you, I will. I'll study with you, or whatever you need. We can work together to get through this," Jake explained, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you're right, it's not fair. You are good enough, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people believe in you."
You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a warmth spreading through you. You didn't quite understand it, but it was nice. It was nice to feel like someone actually cared. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him. "You'd really help me?"
Jake nodded, his expression sincere. "Yeah, of course I would. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, it's not like I've got everything easy. I've just learned how to deal with it."
As tensions began to ease between you, Jake started to show you a different side of himself. He'd always been considerate and caring, but now those qualities seemed to shine brighter than ever before. He'd listen intently when you spoke, offering thoughtful advice and encouragement. He'd laugh at your jokes, even when they weren't funny, and he'd make an effort to include you in group activities. You began to feel a warmth in your chest whenever he was around.
One day, as you studied together in the library, you noticed Jake looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes seemed to hold an intensity that you'd never seen before, and it made you feel both nervous and excited at the same time. As you spoke, he'd occasionally glance at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was then that you realized, with a start, that you were in love with him.
Over the next few weeks, your friendship blossomed into something deeper. The way Jake treated you, with respect and admiration, made you feel like the most special person in the world. You found yourself looking forward to spending time with him, just talking or watching a movie. The gentle way he touched your hand when he passed you a pen or the way he'd tease you about your favorite TV shows only served to intensify the feelings you had for him.
One evening, as you studied together in his room, the lights were low and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't even notice how close Jake was sitting to you. You were acutely aware of his presence, of the way his shoulder brushed against yours every time he reached for a pen or turned a page. The air between you seemed to crackle with an electricity that you couldn't quite explain.
As the night wore on, you found yourself glancing up at him more and more often, studying the lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved as he spoke. You felt your heart race every time he looked at you, and you could swear that there was something different in his eyes. Something warm and intense.
You tried to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering, drifting back to the way he'd been acting. You wondered if he felt the same way about you. You wondered what he would do if you confessed your feelings. A part of you was terrified of ruining your friendship, but another part of you longed for something more. Something deep and lasting. Something real.
"J-jake," you stammer, your voice barely audible over the thunder of your heart. "I-I love you." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and palpable, as if they've been weighing on your chest for far too long. You feel your face flush with embarrassment, but at the same time, there's a strange sense of relief in finally getting the words out.
Jake goes still, his eyes widening in surprise. He hesitates for a moment, searching your face, before exhaling softly and leaning in closer. His lips meet yours, tentatively at first, but with a growing intensity that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.
The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of being connected to him. His taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against yours—it's all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting more of him.
Jake responds eagerly, deepening the kiss even further. His tongue dances with yours, teasing and exploring, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the passion building inside of you, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You never knew you could feel this way about someone, this alive, this desired.
As you break away from the kiss, your eyes meet his, and you see the love reflected there. It's a look of wonder and awe, as if he can't quite believe how lucky he is to be sharing this moment with you. He trails his fingers down your cheek, over your jawline, and to your lips again, this time softly tracing their outline.
"I love you too, Yn," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."
Your heart soars at his words, and you feel a newfound sense of joy and security wash over you. You realize that this is what you've always wanted, to be truly loved and cherished by someone as wonderful as Jake. You lean in and kiss him again, this time with more passion and longing, as if you could never get enough of his lips on yours.
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༘˚⋆𐙚。Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚。 @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay
{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}
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zahri-melitor · 1 day
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A Quick, Somewhat Joking Discussion of 'the Best Ways To Get Into Comics' (TM)
Be 10-14 years old, pick up a random comic at the library/bookshop/someone's collection and become obsessed. This is proven the best method and the level of confusion engendered by it is actually more useful long term than any other method. (At that age you are going to fall deeply in love with random texts that are never going to quite have the depth your brain imparts on them)
Mention to a friend who does like comics that you want to 'get into comics' and said friend, knowing your preferred types of tv shows and books, your favourite characters and having asked what you're hoping to read, carefully picks out something that is objectively a good starter comic that fits your tastes and makes your brain go brrrr. (god tier level, that friend is a keeper, also congratulations on the fact you are never going to replicate the feel of reading that first comic again)
Lurk or hang out in some fandom space where you are regularly exposed to discussions of comics that includes actual panels and storylines of recent comics, and work out from that what seems to have a vibe you like, so you go and pick up that run (solid option, being able to taste various writers and styles of run before diving in gives you a better chance of choosing a run that hooks you, I was introduced to so many runs via scans_daily in this way back in the day).
Wander into a library or comic shop or bookshop that has a decent number of comics with the idea that you want to look into reading these, and then flip through a bunch of trades in what you think you want to read before something catches your eye and you pick that up (less likely to be a definite hook, but has the benefit of being far more likely than any option listed further below to involve newbie-friendly art. And newbie-friendly art is something that isn't discussed enough in terms of recommendations but is one of the biggest reasons people just getting into comics bounce off the format).
Only here will I mention recommended character reading guides. In my experience they're useful in certain contexts, particularly for characters who have hard-to-trace chronologies, for finding out what runs that person considers essential to the character, for untangling the order of comics in particularly confusing large events, and for narrowing down and directing people where there's a big chunk of material to read about a character. My objection is they tend to be treated like gospel by newbies, they frequently don't consider whether the artwork is going to make their eyes burn, quite often they are more focused on the 'best' stories for a character rather than the 'most accessible stories' for that character (these are two separate concepts!) and they tend to sell a narrative of 'don't read X' where X is quite often a comic which people don't enjoy but where an important event happens or is simply an older comic that's particularly affected by community expectations and standards having changed since it was written.
You know that '75 Years of Comics' series of prestige hardbacks that DC did? They're great to hand to a newbie looking to get into a specific character or mantle, because it's got stand alone stories that are highly regarded or solidly introductory about that character from each era, they can page through it and work out what version makes their brain happy, and then follow up on those leads into more reading. (Expensive but perfect for libraries)
The first trade of a recent run for the character in question by the current or second most recent writer. Most runs when they change lead writers are going to have some level of onboarding simply because a lot of people DO switch what they're reading depending on what team is on the book, and by going with a current run you manage to sidestep a lot of the 'this feels weird and old' problems.
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android!Robin has several technical problems, the most important ones having to do with her memory card, battery and motor skills.
Androids are supposed to have perfect photographic memory, but Robin's memory is poor even by human standards. She tends to forget where she left her keys, what she was going to do when walking into a room, etc. She forgets her schedule all the time, as well as Nancy's, and can't remember a recipe to save her life. Dustin and Suzie say it's a problem with the connections needed to access her memory card, rather than with the memory card itself. It's fixeable, but extremely difficult and expensive. Robin wants to get this fixed and she's working hard to pay for it - she doesn't want to be an inconvenience. Nancy will support her decision, but she really isn't bothered by Robin's poor memory. She just hopes she's doing it for herself and not to make herself "easier to handle" for other people (she's been told that's what her worth was based on her entire life).
She's only had one memory card her entire life (as far as she knows). Nancy's greatest fear is Robin hitting her head and it breaking. One could potentially take out the memory card and delete it or install a new one - that is Robin's greatest fear.
At one point, her connections get so bad there will be days in which she can't remember Nancy at all, or what her own name is. She'll act almost like a normal android those days - following orders, not speaking unless necessary, not expressing emotion unless instructed to, etc, though her poor motor skills, battery problems and bad memory will make it difficult. It freaks Nancy out every time, and she always tries to get her to snap out of it as if she were human, before accepting that love can't solve this problem, and calling Dustin and Suzie to fix it. She'll pay any price if it means having her Robin back.
Robin lets herself be turned off without complaint, without even the terrified shudder Nancy used to feel when she forcibly did it during their first weeks together. Robin's docile obedience as she let Nancy do this to her, and the way her body went limp in Nancy's arms, never failed to bring Nancy to tears.
It would take days for Dustin and Suzie to fix some of Robin's problems. This one took between one and two weeks. Longest it ever got was 16 days. During that time, Robin would lay lifeless on their workshop's table, her battery sitting somewhere else to prevent her from turning on automatically. Dustin insisted that he and his lady (as he called Suzie) worked best when their kingdom (their workshop) was untouched by foreign hands, so Nancy wasn't always welcome to visit Robin in that state. Nancy was relentless, though, and she usually managed to convince him to let her in for a few minutes. He thinks it's pointless - it's not like Robin can feel her there. She can't even dream. It doesn't change anything. In fact, he worries Nancy will be more disturbed than comforted, because Robin's entire skull, neck and spine will be exposed - only it's not bones and flesh inside, but metal and plastic circuits, plates, chips, wires and pistons. He's careful to at least put her face back in place when Nancy visits. He expects her to be taken aback by the sight, but instead, Nancy's eyes are full of so much worry and care and adoration as she observes Robin's lifeless body. She doesn't dare touch her - she doesn't want to hurt her. But she misses her so deeply.
When it's all finished, Nancy takes her back home with the utmost care and tucks her into bed. She waits by her side until she turns back on, and softly talks to her, asks her how she's feeling, brings her some water and asks her questions, to see if she's back to normal. Because it's all recorded in her memory card, Robin can remember everything - can remember the time she spent not knowing who she is, thought she can't remember if she was self-aware during those episodes. Whenever she wakes up, she's just happy to see Nancy, and wants hugs and cuddles from her, but she begins to cry out of fear as she tries to remember the details of not being. Nancy holds her every time, asks her if she wants to watch cartoons or if she wants her to read a book for her, to keep her from spiraling. She hates seeing Robin look so small and scared, but she also knows she's not scared of anything Nancy can protect her from. The horrors haunting her come from her own mind and her own nature.
(Dustin and Suzie make a copy of Robin's memory card and give it to her, just in case).
Dustin and Suzie take care of any fixes Robin needs. They're much nicer than any other technician at the previous repair shops she's been to. The most usual fixes have to do with weakness and stiffness in her knees and hips, especially on her right leg (it got broken pretty badly during a beating by her last owner - Billy Hargrove. He wanted to make her unable to walk. The person his father sold her to next did a poor job fixing her). These fixes are usually quite simple and take very little time. She will refuse to see them, though, until she reaches her breaking point when she struggles to stand up, or when she suddenly falls to the ground. It always worries Nancy to death - she's terrified of Robin hitting herself and suffering even more damage. It always takes some convincing for Nancy to get her in her car and on their way to Dustin's workshop. Sometimes, the fix will be so simple they don't even need to turn her off. Nancy holds her hand during these.
The third big problem is her battery. Thankfully, her battery is detachable and easily replaceable. They only had a mayor issue with it once, and they had to order a new one. Robin's model is rare enough that it took over a week to get there. During that time, they installed solar pannels in the balcony and Robin had to be connected to them with long, thick cables that stretched all around the apartment. It was more amusing than anything else, having to step around the cables and make sure none of them got accidentally disconnected. Cloudy days made her pretty much useless and had her lying in bed watching cartoons all day. She was completely turned off after sunset and she was up by sunrise. Needless to say, she couldn't leave the apartment for the week and had to call in sick to work.
Good thing was, though, that the new battery worked much better than the previous one. It lasted much longer. Nancy had only seen her this excited a few other times. The way she kicked her bedroom door down with a wide smile on her face as she yelled at her to come to the kitchen just made Nancy smile with adoration. Robin showed her the box in her hands - she was shaking with excitement - and asked Nancy to help her install it. She turned herself off and Nancy did the rest - disconnected cables, take out old battery, install new one. When she turned Robin back on, she was more full of life and energy than she'd ever seen her be. Free from her cables, she immediately grabbed Nancy's hands and dragged her outside - the sun was shining and she wanted to run around in the park, to roll on the grass and count the cloud and photosynthesize with a good book in her hand. To Nancy, she looked like a puppy, or a happy little bird just released from its cage. She could never say no to her, they would spend the entire day outside if Robin wanted to.
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anawkwardlady · 3 days
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I'm not going to say anything groundbreaking, i'm literally going to punch an open door so yeah.
That part of the arc is interesting because it's truly when you get that not only everything about the school is a facade but also that being aware of it doesn't do anything on the long run. Violet says in the first episode "the Houses are all the same" they really are, Weston College already proceed to make a selection of its students and the Houses are an illusion of some kind of meritocracy, of hard work on the process. You're only selected based on your status : the artists, sportsman, and intellectuals are not the best in their crafts they're just the richest ones (doesn't mean they're not talented or whatever but it's a small pool). All students need to keep high scores, (it's a school with a reputation) and have an somewhat acceptable level in extracurricular activities, houses are really not that special.
Social climbing your way to become fag of Prefect and Prefect through work and normal means is almost impossible if you're not yourself known or exploiting someone else. You'd think no one would fall for something as obvious as "Rich boy with servants at home is somehow a master chef who loves to work and knows how to multitask to an impossible degree without lashing out or looking tired while keeping a perfect score" it's because the prefect either already know it's impossible and close their eyes on it or are naive to that point because they only got where they are through connections and past family members also being Prefects. Everything from the Houses to their fag selection is an illusion of work and merit.
When they discover Maurice bullying and abuse it ironically only reflects how suggestible they are to Ciel's facade who is able to win them over with a smile and a bingo of acceptable words. Everyone will be able to reach their happy ending where the greedy social climber is punished and the deserving boy got the place that he deserved. Funny enough it already starts by hinting at Maurice being the one bullied now but in a acceptable, righteous way (it's only right to punish someone who did bad through humiliation). They're indoctrinated to that point, the system is not dysfunctional it works perfectly. Redmond hears Maurice whole rant and never interrogates himself on the root of the problem, since he decided it was due to that bad apple and the other one... and the other one... and the other.... It's also interesting the other prefects don't care to check whether people are being treated correctly or not, if theres any exploitation issue in their own house. We found the one guys, enough activism for today lkjhbjkl
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rin-and-jade · 3 days
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Welcome to the World! : A Starting Guide for Alters
This guide's purpose is to help either new formed/split, or those recently risen from dormancy, or the unregistered/unrecognized alters to get one step closer to functioning at the outside world!
It'll be one long rundown, click below to start right away, see you on the flip side.
From here on, what will be mentioned are things to assess some potential problems, questions, and self-discovery prompts. It is recommended to follow the flow of the guide, but if you necessarily need to skim to a certain section, this table of contents will help you:
table of contents
The beginning - Introduction
Things to look out for - potential problems to assess - Mobility - Gender & Species unalignment - World confusion
Starters - self discovery questions
How a system works - lite educative version
Closing - last notes + extra materials
The beginning
Nice to see you here, in the flip side! Now i know you have lots of questions on hand right now, and why you might be reading this as first thing's first; it's because i am here to help prepare yourself in many different aspects that cannot be learnt/figured out in such a short amount of time unless it is assisted with an experienced person.
If you haven't know what's going on up to this point, along with the kind of situation you're in, first off, you're a system.
Yes, thats right, system is a word for a collection of many parts within one body and you are also a part of it. This can mean you'll hear other kinds of accent inside head, and feeling + liking fully different things, as well as possessing different levels of certain skills and memory. More or less, this belongs to the qualities of a Complex Dissociative Disorder,, where there are types like DID, OSDD, Polyfragmented, etc.
This happens because of how dissociation can wall up barriers between other facets of yourself that stops some level of communication or complete it's integration when bad things happen in early years, leaving them mainly separated and self-autonomous; they're known as 'alters' but i personally love calling them as 'parts' or some might go with words like 'headmates' or 'facets' or even 'members'.
This isn't enough to explain the disorder itself, but i hope it suffices in explaining your situation! Feel free to check some extra system details if your gang has one, let's get to the next section.
Things to look out for
Just a quick warning and a reminder, if you are rather new or have not been actively out,, there is a high chance of having issues with limb coordination, control, and balancing. Other than that, the off-putting sensations you feel such as wrong type of species, height, gender, or even the world being foreign from how you perceive it can make things scary and overwhelming.
Fear not, as i also have the solutions for all these:
Handling poor mobility: First off, take a good moment to recognize your length of the arms, legs, learn the shape of your palm and fingers, and to every corners of your body. Start holding some simple objects like mugs or pens, remember how it feels to grab something with your fingers and gauge your grip strength, experimenting when you squeeze or loosen it. Then start interacting with the objects with both your hands, attempt to twirl it, or hold it in different positions and turns. You can also go for a test walk and sway all your joints to get a better picture of your movement range, practice makes perfect in easing your balance and momentum, it is normal to stub or be wobbly or clumsy at first, so take it easy okay?
To manage unalignment: It is hard to feel comfy if it is not the right height, especially for non-human aligned parts, so using props or any equipment or accessories can give you some sense of comfort (you can even walk on toes if you do need to feel a bit more tall, but don't over do this). Since fully eradicating this is impossible, doing anything in your power to lessen the discomfort is the best thing you can do,, there are also phantom limbs which basically means the extra body parts you identify with does not exist. This can be remedied by applying some gentle pressure to think that it is attached to your main body or use your imagination to satisfy that missing limb. for those not being aligned with the gender, if the body is feminine but you are masculine; try investing or search for a binder. If a binder is out of reach, wearing oversized, or baggy clothes, or hoodies will do the trick. And a boyish clothing style and short hair style if possible too. If its masculine in a feminine instead, using more girly oriented clothing style and do your nails, or any activities that affirms feminine aligned gender. I am very sure there are silicon chest pads but not in terms of where it is being sold at, so try to find them if it's available in your area. When neither and is androgynous instead, try searching for gender neutral clothes that are also neutral colored like grey/black/brown. There are many inspirations of this type of fashion so use the internet to gain inspirations on making your own androgyny look, you could even use make up to contour your shape of face. Now, for the ones who walk in hind-legs, get some platform heels/shoes/sandals/boots. You can find a flat one or the slanted one to match your needs. The idea is the slanted part of the shoe and the thick base gives an impression of canine/feline foot balance and for those who have hooves, respectively. (honestly, paw printed socks will do too, i hope) Lastly, to manage claws, or fangs, try using fake nail art of your color, or attach a fake vampire teeth guard, respectively. For symbolic means, you can even consume foods that are juicy and red, like meat cooked in medium,, or if you want the more vegan option: watermelons, or gummy that represents meat or grubs or just by being red to represent blood.
Getting used to the world Start learning how technology works--phone, laptop, kitchen tools, vehicle if any, and anything else that are often used. Make sure you practice enough to easily operate them, and learn how to use the internet and helpful plural apps or websites such as Lighthouse or start using Simply Plural. Try many foods to enhance culinary awareness, identify lots of other objects and the geography of your area to navigate and understand better. Touch many kinds of materials to train your sensory processes. You could also invest in watching shows and try a variety amount of activities to deepen your understanding of life. Explore different kinds of subject that you are particularly interested on, and lastly, never be afraid to do and try new things! This will guarantee you to seamlessly function with anything the world has to offer.
For starters - Self Discovery
Do you have a name?
do you what's your age?
What's your gender?
What are your pronouns?
Do you remember anything, and how much?
Do you seem to retain some past knowledge?
Can you describe what you look like? (Includes species)
Do you find the outside world familiar or foreign?
Can you state your bio name, family, or any important info?
Is it possible to describe yourself identity/vibe wise? (crucial part to tell apart fragments from splits and from holders that do not embody a personality)
What role could you fit as? (a host, protector, etc. Search for alter roles)
Do you like the outside world? Will you have a chance of being out more often? (to gauge how often one will front)
Have any likes and dislikes or preferences/hobbies?
For the bullet points you couldn't answer, take this as a sign to start searching! It will take some time, but you can ask help from anyone and even me when needed.
How a system works
A system works in communication (be it internal or external) and switches that also often have a specific trigger to call out someone else. Sometimes, though not a must, will have an innerworld that facilitates as a place for everyone to meet and interact.
These things are crucial for cooperation, because you'll definitely need that in order to navigate the world and adapt accordingly.
Communication
There are many kinds of communication styles, sometimes a mix of some or have all of the above,, whatever style you have, make sure to use it to the maximum. There are: via images, via abstract vibes, via emotions, or via direct (verbal) internal thoughts. Some do not have any internal communication, so external ones would be things such as keeping notes or write in a diary or any app for text editing.
Keep in mind that the clarity of communication fluctuates due to various factors, stress as one of them. So it is important to know that it will not work in a constant 100% at all times, use this awareness to strategize if, somehow, you have lost contact with the others.
Trigger & Switches
It is something that elicits a feeling that belongs to a part, which in return, can 'wake' or call one to co-con or front. There are negative and positive charged triggers, and i suggest you to explore what are your potential triggers.
The relationship with trigger and switches is, depending on how strong it is, can cause a switch to happen, where you will be swapped out by another one who got 'called' upon. This mechanism is for adapting to different kinds of situations, and these certain triggers are the key to ensuring the right part handle it's respective job as needed.
Switches can be very subtle, or slow, or obvious, or in a snap. This fully depends on how your system is made to handle problems on hand or when in stress, as sometimes it can cause rapid-switching, or the opposite, being stuck or locked in front. Sometimes, they also cause physical symptoms.
System terms - Basics
Fronting - the alter who has full control of the body, and performing tasks. Co-front - the alter, who have awareness between the outside and inside world, as well as able to control the body though not as complete as the fronter. Co-conscious - the alter who have awareness of the outside world, and spectates, and does not have any direct control of the body. Passive influence - when an alter's specific traits or likes/dislikes leaked to others and/or at front, that changes the initial reaction to be more blended with the other one. E.g. A like fries, B is there and likes spicy sauces. So now, A is craving to eat the fries with something spicy, even if A has no interest when it comes to spiciness or sauce.
For closing
Practice makes perfect, this is everything you need to know to hone your knowledge before finally stepping outside with complete freedom, where you can start anywhere you'd like, and to resume your collective's path to functionality and well-being. It's okay if things didn't go well at first try, and remember to reach out to people who you could trust as it'll help you progress faster!
I am aware that this guide still have a lot of room for improvement, so any requests or feedback will be added here for future viewers! This guide will be subjected to constant updates with even more sections being discussed on, or added touch of details. I will also add on my own posts here to serve as additional knowledge that is related to this topic:
Types of amnesia
Are you a Shard, Fragment, or Alter
Types of subsystems
Front-stuck, and how to deal with it
Physical switches
Comorbidity
Being blurry
Starters to system foundations
How comorbidity affects plurals (ADHD & Autism)
Dealing with the sense of faking
The person who needs to give their back a break, - j
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