#Did you thought I'm going to do quality content only???

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 4

Contents: pre-relationship headcanons, slow burn, pining, humour

The day after receiving the honey cakes, you felt slightly nervous at the prospect of meeting Nanami in the break room. You knew, however, that you could easily avoid the encounter.

Except, you didn't want to. There was a delicate balance to be maintained here, a dance of two birds hovering around the same flower and never alighting. If you didn't meet him as usual, you knew that a silent message would be sent, and received accordingly on his part. At the same time, your presence in the break room was a message on its own.

Shaking your head to clear it of these thoughts, you wondered for a minute if infatuation (you didn't want to use other terms for this feeling that you might regret later) really had to be this complicated. You didn't have time to think on it further, because the door to the room opened and the subject of your fixation stood right in front of you.

You couldn't be entirely certain, but Nanami seemed relieved to see you there. He took off his glasses and approached your table with his usual quiet greeting, which you returned. You decided to throw caution to the wind and take the initiative.

"Thank you for the cakes."

"No need. They were meant as a thanks to you for helping Yuuji," he countered smoothly, opening up his bought lunch and preparing his chopsticks.

You paused, wondering how to query after what you'd been wondering, but Nanami was back to his tricks of reading your mind. Just as you opened your mouth, he placed his folded napkin neatly to one side and said, "I've noticed you going to that bakery often. I also appreciate good quality food and have purchased their savoury range before."

You brightened immediately upon hearing that.

"Oh! Then did you try their focaccia? And the cheese and garlic bread?"

"Naturally. I'm particularly fond of the focaccia. The herb blend they use is quite splendid."

You clapped your hands together and leaned forward, all nervousness about this encounter now forgotten.

"But then, you must have tried the brie and bacon ciabatta at the place down the road, right?"

"Yes. The rocket leaves are a nice touch. They give a certain freshness and bite to what could be a heavy sandwich."

"Exactly! And the tomato tart is to die for!"

"Oh? I confess, I haven't tried that yet. Perhaps next time."

"And pair it with their French coffee. Great combination."

He took a bite of his lunch and chewed, carefully and contemplatively, as he did all things. He placed his chopsticks across the top of the container, then turned his entire body to face you, those earnest hazel eyes unflinching in their regard.

"I'm not very familiar with the menu of that place, though. Perhaps you could accompany me, to provide a few recommendations?"

You didn't have enough time to process the query. For once, your mind would not allow you to hesitate as you beamed at him and nodded.

"I'd be happy to! Let me know when you'd like to go."

"Of course."

It was only when your lunch break was over, when he'd bowed his head in a respectful greeting and left, that you realised just how rapidly your heart was beating and how your hands were experiencing small tremors, as if some mischievous sprite of the air had taken up residence there.

It felt a little like diving into the ocean, from the top of a cliff. The water may receive you, hard and turbulent at first, and then cradle you, allowing you to open your eyes and see the wonders that lay beneath. Or a treacherous rock could break your fall. Permanently.

It wasn't as if you didn't see the direction this was heading. It was the nature of the world you inhabited that made this so potentially damaging. He must know it too, so why ... But something was stopping you from going beyond that point in your thoughts. Was it intuition? Was it some innate instinct for doing what you should? Or was it plain illusion, a blindfold of obtuseness and stupidity that had somehow descended over the both of you?

Nanami sends you a message two days later, informing you that he had some time off after his morning mission and that he would like to visit the bakery, if that was fine.

Before you are able to stop yourself, to hesitate, to really think about what you are doing, you type 'Yes, perfect' and forward it to him.

You are beginning to realise that however you spin it, your answer will always be yes. Yes, yes, yes, a hundred times over. Consequences be damned.

When you finish your shift, you receive a message, punctual to the minute.

"I am waiting in the garden."

You glance into the small hand mirror you carry in your bag, brush fingers through your hair and pause before touching up your lipstick. As observant as he is, Nanami wouldn't miss something like that. A treacherous little part of your mind whispers to you, "Good. Let him."

Slamming the mirror shut, you head out, past the fairly empty rooms, through the corridors and out into the afternoon sunshine. Nanami is waiting exactly where he said he would be. His hair gleams like the glaze on those honey cakes in the buttery light of your office lamp. As you approach him, you're struck by how tall he seems, now that you're not seated at a table together.

He turns to you and offers a soft greeting. You both pause, and it seems that even Nanami is sometimes at a loss as to what course of action to take. You assert a winning smile and adjust your bag on your shoulder.

"Let's go and pick up some tarts, then."

Nanami's mouth twitches slightly.

"Oh ... I mean the tomato tarts, of course."

You can feel that tell-tale heat rising in your neck again. God, what a sentence to utter.

"I'm not sure what other tart you could mean. Let's go."

Your embarrassment turns to good humour as he turns and leads the way, his pace unhurried. He starts to point out changes on the campus that have been made since he returned to work here, some of which even you hadn't noticed, what with the blinker-vision that your job induced.

"Hmm. Those statues. They came up just last year."

"I remember. Had to call a whole crew in to install them correctly."

"What do you think about them?"

"Well, to be honest, I thought they were a little pretentious."

Nanami is silent for a minute and you glance at him curiously.

"Why? Do you like them?"

He can barely conceal the smugness in his tone when he says, "No. They were Gojo's idea."

You laugh and whatever tension or uneasiness there had been between the two of you evaporates. As you head slowly for the main entrance, Nanami types something on his phone and soon after, a black sedan, one you recognize as a Jujutsu Tech vehicle, draws up beside the two of you. Nanami instructs the driver to take you both into the nearby town where the bakery you frequent is located.

When you have been dropped off at a street corner some distance from the cafe, Nanami glances at you with a trace of uncertainty.

"I thought it would be nice weather to walk for a while. If you don't want to, then we can call for the car again."

"Of course I want to. You're right. It's a beautiful day."

You continue your stroll with him, suddenly hyper aware of his arm brushing against yours gently, the way he was deliberately keeping pace with your stride, the distinct masculine scent of him that was always evident when you were close together. You look down at his hands, the broad, elegant fingers calloused slightly at the inner curve, where they would drag against the hilt of his weapon. You wondered how they would feel under your own exploring digits.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, softly.

You. Always.

"When did you decide that your weapon was the most suitable one?"

"Hmm."

His gaze is on you now, intent. You meet it, them allow your eyes to travel down to his hands. You've broken many vows already, but this new one, to be more open about what you think and feel, seems to be one you can adhere to.

Nanami follows your gaze and then lifts one hand, palm up, so that you can see more clearly.

"I assume you're wondering how it feels to wield a blade?"

"A little, yes."

"When we trained as sorcerers, they asked us to try out different weapons, become proficient at a few and then narrow it down to those we felt most comfortable with. I tried polearms, axes, swords, bludgeons. I found that I liked the weight of the heavy weapons, but also the precision of the blade. I told this to... a friend of mine. He went digging through the whole shed looking for something that suited me. I told him to drop it, that what I was looking for was unlikely to exist among cursed tools."

"But he kept looking, I assume?"

"He did, indeed. Day after day. He'd go looking after every training session, until even I became sick of asking him to stop. He was ... persistent like that. Haibara."

He says the name as if exhaling a weighted breath. You decide that the heaviness it bears must be pain. You think you can guess what had happened to Haibara.

"So he found your current weapon?"

"Not quite. He found an old knife, the type used to cut through dense bushes and branches. He said it felt right. I took it from him and ... he was right. It felt good in my hand. Balanced. I showed it to our teacher at the time and they had one designed for me, to the specifications I described."

He turns to you, and although the lines at the corners of his mouth seem a little deeper, his expression is more open.

"Does that answer your question?"

"It does. And I have another."

"Well, it's going to have to wait until you answer mine."

"Oh?"

"Are you in the habit of picking up tarts?"

"Nanami!"

"Pardon me. Then I'll ask something a little less personal. What is it about crosswords that you like so much?"

"Hmm. I suppose ... because I never used to be good at them."

"You weren't?"

"I was hopeless, actually," you laugh, "But I did love the challenge. I've always been good with languages. Eventually they became second nature to me."

"I see. It has to do with your stubborn streak, then?"

You splutter a little.

"What do you mean stubborn streak, as if it's a habit?"

"So you admit it, then."

"I - all right. Yes. But you're not telling me much about - "

"I overhead you talking to someone in the supply department once. You asked for a type of cubicle for the students' classrooms and they didn't make those. You drew something that looked like a beehive and sent it to him by email."

"Is there something wrong with shelving that looks like a beehive?"

"The craftsman certainly thought so, until you wore him down through sheer persistence."

"At least I'm consistently annoying."

"I don't find you annoying at all."

Your smile belies the pleasant frisson those words send through you. Honestly, your standards shouldn't be so embarrassingly low.

"Oh really? Maybe that's a character flaw, then."

He glances over and another small smile toys at the corner of his mouth.

"Possibly. I am known to possess a very high tolerance for certain persons."

By the time you reach the bakery, Nanami's speech is already less formal than you're accustomed to. He has loosened his tie slightly and his arms swing with greater freedom as he walks. He looks like he's actually having a good time and you know that you probably look much the same. It's almost too easy, this quiet camaraderie, the flow from one topic to another, the humour that bites and leaves such a teasing, pleasant sting in its wake.

You never thought it would be like this, but now you're perusing the menu, and you push that thought aside. Nanami has found you the perfect seats in a small private corner of the cafe, where you can see the street clearly, but are shielded from the view of those coming in through the main entrance. Nanami had pulled out your chair for you before seating himself and the sun's warmth is comforting against your back.

"Have you decided?" he asks, after a short while. 

"I think I'm going to try the camembert toast with fig preserve and honey."

"Feeling for something sweet, then?"

"Today, yes. What about you?"

"I'll try that tart."

You struggle to keep a straight face and Nanami eyes you slyly over the top of his menu. Clearing your throat, you continue.

"I'm glad you're taking my recommendation."

"I see it has goat's cheese. Quite the complement. I do trust you in matters of food."

"Are there matters with which you don't trust me?"

He folds the menu away and regards you seriously.

"I wouldn't trust you in matters of dancing."

You stare at him. For someone so unassuming, this man really had a penchant for stating the unexpected.

"Dancing?"

"I've noticed you trip on the corner of your desk more than a few times."

"Oh God." You cover your face, mortified. "Really? Is there anything you don't notice?"

"Little escapes me."

The waitress arrives and saves you from his merciless analysis of your clumsy nature. She takes your orders and there is a small lull in the conversation as you wait for your drinks. You take the time to examine him, and he you. There is something intimate, but relaxing about this, the way your eyes can openly take each other in now. He seems to hesitate before asking you his next question.

"Do you like this kind of thing?"

"Eating at cafes?"

"Exploring new places to eat in general."

"Oh, yes. I do it quite often by myself."

The unspoken question was answered and Nanami's expression was suddenly closed and vulnerable. He looked away from you, out into the street. His next words were considered and quiet.

"I eat out with my colleagues sometimes. After a job."

Your hands clutch the menu a little too tightly, crinkling the corners.

"You mean, like this?"

He looks you in the eye, and what you see there both exhilarates and terrifies you. There is a softly burning fire there, a quiet longing, a wound that has been picked open many times by uncontrolled fingers. His answer sounds clear, even amongst the noises of chatter, dishes clanking and the hiss of the coffee machines.

"No. Not like this."

@tsukimefuku @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls

#fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami romance #nanamin #slow burn #coffee date with Nanami #he's not calling it a date #YET #you both like food #A LOT

[ladysiryna]

Explain, Julian.

#shitpost #I'm playing Arcana again #the arcana #Did you thought I'm going to do quality content only??? #Best Julian Devorak fanart you'll ever see from me

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

oooh can u do one of those with Tom and reader where she does one of those celebrity skincare routine videos. How u go abt the story is completely up to u, have a nice day!

Vogue beauty secrets || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: I haven't post a tom blyth x singer!reader in so long, apolgies! but hope you enjoy this one :)

Wc: 577

Warnings: nonee

Divider by @pommecita

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to film your Vogue beauty secrets video. The soft lights illuminate the room, casting a flattering glow on your face. "Hi Vogue! I'm Y/n Abrams and I'm going to walk you through my skincare and my current glam-ish makeup routine!" You smile.

"So for my morning skincare routine, I keep it very simple and only use four products," you showcase the products before tucking your hair behind your ears.

Picking up a bottle of a renowned cleanser, you speak with a gentle, almost ASMR-like quality, "I first go in with this la roche possay face wash," You squeeze the contents in your hands.

"I used to have really bad teenage acne and my mum actually put me on this when I was about 14 and I've been using it ever since!" You say as you lather it up in your hands.

You lightly pat your wet face and with a confident smile, you began detailing more of your skincare routine, highlighting each product with precision. You get closer to the camera as you delicately applied a moisturiser, your voice resonating with enthusiasm.

The ambiance shifted when you transitioned to your makeup routine, showcasing the products that you use. "Most days I just keep it very very simple, using very light products on my skin," You comment as you pull out foundation.

"But for my sort of glam days I use this foundation from charlotte tilbury, it's not too heavy for me but it has great coverage." As you meticulously applied the product on your face, the door to the bathroom creaked open as you look towards the reflection of the mirror.

Tom casually strolls in, a lazy grin on his face, his eyes locking onto you. He wraps his arms around you, his warmth and affection catching you off-guard as you smile. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Hi gorgeous," he whispers against your skin.

His eyes then move to the camera that he hadn't seen, "Oh- are you filming that video right now?" Tom seemed genuinely concerned, but instead of pulling away, he tightens his embrace, placing light kisses on your exposed skin. The unexpected intrusion caught everyone watching at home off-guard, but the genuine affection between you and Tom added an endearing touch to the video.

"Yeah, but it's okay, you can stay," You assure your boyfriend as you both lock eyes with each other through the reflection. "What's the video again?" Tom lifts his head up from your shoulder as he straightens up behind you.

"My beauty secrets with Vogue," you explain, motioning to the products on the counter. "I'm doing my makeup routine right now," almost forgetting you still had to get through the rest of your routine, you go back to doing your makeup.

Tom, seemingly unfazed by the cameras, continued to watch you with adoration with his hands resting on your hips. “You don’t need makeup, you’re already gorgeous,” he remarked. “Hm?” You look at him, “I said, you already look gorgeous, you don’t need makeup,” he repeats, his words sincere and heartfelt.

You give your boyfriend a grateful smile for his sweet words. Caught in the moment, Tom continues to watch you, occasionally leaning in to drop a playful comment or offer a sweet compliment. The chemistry between you two is palpable, and it added an unexpected charm to the video.

You wrapped up the video with Tom still beside you as he gives a small wave. You thought for sure that the vogue editing team would cut off most, if not, all the parts that Tom was in.

But little did you know, the vogue team decided to keep the segments with your boyfriend, finding his genuine affection and compliments wholesome.

When the video gets uploaded to YouTube, the internet goes wild. Both your fans couldn't get enough of Tom's unscripted, heartfelt moments. Clips of him wrapping around you, calling your gorgeous, and showering you with affection became viral sensations.

Social media explodes with comments praising how sweet Tom is and the chemistry between the two of you. Memes circulate, capturing the hilarious and heartwarming snapshots from the video.

The unexpected blend of beauty tips and genuine love only fueled the video's popularity.

#tom blyth #fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x gf!reader #tom blyth x singer!reader au #tom blyth x singer!reader #social media #fanfic #tom blyth fluff #boyfriend!tom blyth #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas imagine #tbosas x reader #tom blyth the man you are #singer!reader #gracie abrams

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

#rambl #orson scott card #eti reads stuff #eti reads the homecoming saga #songmaster #content note: homophobia

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #smut #smut fanfic #no beta we die like jason gideon #reader x spencer reid #bau fanfic #bau smut #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #x reader #bau #criminal minds fic

[sisgotdemons]

Is it bad I just wanna suck Joel off with the highest chance of someone coming in on us? Just like, imagine it, ugh

Birthday Boy

Pairing || Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Summary || It's his day, of course you'd treat him well today.

Word Count || 1,227

Contents & Warnings || Fluff & Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (baby, hon/honey, sweetheart, good girl), oral (male receiving), teasing, face/throat fucking, spit/saliva, cum swallowing, getting caught, established relationship, ONE spank, 2 mentions of the word Daddy (said by Joel)

Disclaimer || This is my first ever fic, I'm sorry if it's not super good. I promise whatever comes next will be better!

It was Joel's birthday and you invited Tommy over to celebrate with you and Sarah, forcing him to stay home for the day. It's not that he hated to celebrate his day, he was usually busy with work and came home late.

"How old are you again, old man" you hear from the living room, followed by a chuckle from Tommy.

"If you think 28 is old, I'm scared about what you think in 20 years, hon'," you say walking back in the living room with two bowls of popcorn, placing them on the coffee table and sitting right next to your birthday boy.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Joel says while wrapping an arm around you and placing a peck on your temple. Your relationship with Joel has been amazing for the past 2 years. When thinking back about it, you've got thank Sarah and her boldness to get her father into the dating scene. Who's daughter would slip her own dad's number to the local dinner waitress? Only in the Miller household, that's for sure.

"Movie in? What we watching again?," Tommy leans over his niece on the floor, grabbing a beer set there only a few minutes ago, Sarah replies, "Men in Black 2." as she wipes down the liquid ring caused by the beer bottle. "Learn to use a coaster next time, please"

"Ok ok, just play the damn thing. I wanna see if this is better then the original," he said before taking a swig of beer. You all sit comfortably, Tommy and Sarah huddled together on the floor and you and Joel cuddling together. You look up at him, admiring his facial features, wondering how he didn't notice his own beauty. He feels your stares and looks down at you and places his forehead against yours before placing a hand on your thigh and facing back to the screen.

There's about a quarter left of the movie now. Sarah had fallen asleep against Tommy, who's starting to feel the effects of the couple of beers. "I'm heading up, want me to take this one too?," he says looking up at the couple on the couch, "I'll tuck her in and whatever."

"Yeah that's fine Tommy, thank you," you say while smiling at the two on the floor, watching him pick up the sleeping teen, struggling for a second, then walking up the steps. Soft groans and a "Shh, it's fine, just me" can be heard faintly going up the steps.

You and Joel are left alone on the couch and the sequel playing in front of you. Placing a hand on his lap, you lean up and kiss his jaw. "Did you have a good birthday, my love?"

Joel chuckled and pulled you onto his lap, hands placed on your hips, "Of course I did, I always enjoy the quality time we spend, together as a family," he then leans forwards towards your ear whispering, "and when we're alone," followed by a playful smack on your ass.

"Uh, you nasty old man," you jokingly gasped out, lightly hitting Joel's chest. He let out a hearty laugh, both hands now on your ass, "Well this 'old man' loves you and everything you do, baby."

You place your hands on his chest, rubbing softly against the button down he wore. You sit in silence for awhile until you break it.

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

Your words almost gave him whiplash, eyes blinking furiously as he had a confused and intriguing expression on his face.

“Right now?”

“Yeah dummy, right now.”

“Where did this come from, pretty girl?” His lips turned up in a smirk at the thought of you sucking him off right here on the couch.

“Maybe I'm just in the mood to suck your dick. So do you want me to or not?," you say smirking.

“Fuck, you know I could never resist your offer, baby.” His hand reaches up to your mouth, thumb caressing your lips, thinking about them wrapped around him, making his cock twitch. You reach down and grabbed his covered bulge and palmed him in your hand. The idea of sucking him off had his cock hardened.

“What about Sarah and Tommy, sweetheart? What if they come back down?”

“Well, you need to be my eyes and ears, old man, because I’ll be too busy with your pretty dick in my mouth.”

He groaned in anticipation when you got up and made yourself comfortable on your knees, peering up at him through your thick lashes. Quickly, you pulled his jeans and boxers down, his hard dick springing into view, making you lick your hungry lips.

His hand petting your head lovingly gave you the encouragement you needed to have at him.

You licked his tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum that was forming on it. The feeling of your tongue on him and the risk of getting caught had him groan out.

He pushed your head on his cock, becoming slightly impatient. He wanted to feel your wet and tight mouth rubbing against him. When he was in your throat, he groaned out in satisfaction, his eyes closing in bliss.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his cock. Your mouth and hand worked together to bring him towards the edge. You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock, making you hungry for more.

"Fuck baby, you're doing so damn good. Sucking Daddy's cock so good," he says hand gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again.

You took him all the way to the back of your throat again, making your eyes water. The light gagging made him shiver on the spot. You pushed through the slight discomfort, wanting to make him feel as good as possible.

He fucked your mouth hard, saliva dripping down your chin with each force of his hips. “So pretty and messy for me, baby.” He was in awe as he watched you take each inch of him. He was a little over average size, yet was thick enough to make your jaw hurt in the best ways.

“Ah, fuck,” he leaned his head back while shutting his eyes tight, “I'm gonna come.”

A thrust or two more, and he was shooting his hot cum down your throat, some coming out from the sides of your mouth. You continued to bob your head on him until he was done spilling every single drop.

“Show me,” he moaned, tugging you off of his softening dick. You showed him your empty mouth, tongue stuck out with no trace left of him in your mouth.

"Such a good girl for me. Knows exactly how to treat her Daddy," he groans while taking his free hand and rubbing your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.

"Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You follow his orders opening your mouth allowing him to spit in your empty cavity and without being told to, you swallow happily.

"Hey lovebirds, next time ya'll are havin' fun, invite me yeah?" You look up in the direction of the stairs, hearing the other male voice in the house chuckle. "If you don't, just keep it down next time."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us smut

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [5/...]

“Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, I'll be there on their side. I'm losing by their side.”

— Mitski, "Bet On Losing Dogs"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 

It's been a few weeks since the events in Orange Town, and Luffy notices something that others do not. So, he decides to ask you.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, No (fully bodied) Buggy this chapter, Luffy being the precious cinnamon we all love and must protect above all else, flashbacks about Shanks, past discussions, Luffy and Reader have a heart-to-heart.

A/N: I was initially going to write them going to the Baratie this chapter, but it became too long so next one for sho.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk, @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You're sitting by the table in Party's bar, nursing a cold glass of rum against your cracked lips as you observe to the kid - Luffy - demonstrating his newfound Devil Fruit powers without any regard for poor Makino's furniture. 

You don't get him, at all. Then again, you don’t get kids. 

You've never thought of yourself as someone who easily got along with them ... or people in general. Shanks has always been the better-suited one for that kind of work. Whereas he is smiling and grinning at the kid’s mischief, you've barely offered him more than a glance at most.

Your crew has been positioned in Foosha village for the better part of the month, stacking up on resources and food in preparation for your next job. Incidentally, the Red-Haired Pirates also happened to be in town for similar excursions. You rarely see Shanks nowadays since you parted ways several years ago, but whenever you happen to come across one another, you share a drink on his tab.

While your crew is around and about, replenishing their strength and vigor for the work to come, you're content with just sitting here at your leisure. When you're not plundering or fighting or attacking Marine bases, you can't find it in yourself to do much of anything anymore. 

Nothing adds any purpose to your life save for what keeps you fed and clothed, which in the life of a pirate, simply means pirating.

"I've heard you had good fortune on your latest heist," Shanks says from where he's sitting opposite of you. "For your efforts, the Marines have granted you among the highest bounties in all of the East-Blue."

You hum noncommittally in response, not offering much to the conversation in terms of merriment. "The quality of the Marines has been in decline. It says more about their effort, or lack thereof, than mine."

"Do you know what they call you nowadays?"

"They call me a lot of names, you got to be more specific."

"'Cross-Hairs, the Beast of the East'. It's got a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

"Sure."

Shanks smiles the kind way he always does. Always has done.

"Gum-Gum Pistol!" 

The sound of yet another chair breaking has you rolling your eyes without even looking, and poor Makino ages ten years in seconds across the bar counter. 

"Luffy!"

"Sorry!"

Shanks laughs heartedly at the display, only to cut it short upon noticing Makino's even glare sent his way from across the bar. 

"You were careless," you state matter-of-factly and take another gulp from your drink. "You should've kept the fruit hidden more securely."

"Now, in my defense, I didn't think the lad would searching through my loot."

"Well, you should've." You slam your glass down, strong enough to leave a dent in the wooden surface. "What kind of captain leaves his loot undefended and unsupervised? Especially when it contains a Devil Fruit?"

Shanks doesn't argue with your statement and settles with taking a gulp of his own drink, letting your words simmer in his head. "You're right, I should've been more observant. Now, it'll be more difficult for him to achieve his dream."

"His dream? Of what? Becoming the King of the Pirates?" Try as you might, there's no suppressing the snort that escapes through your nose. "There's only ever been one King, and we all saw what happened to him. What do you think is going to happen to a kid who can't even swim?"

"Oh, come off it!" He gives you a playful nudge to the rib, which you reciprocate with a glare. He remains undeterred. "You mean to tell me you've never thought about finding the One Piece? Not even once?"

"I have no interest in whatever plunder Gol D. left behind." 

"Then, what does interest you?" He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and leans over to your side. "What is your dream?"

You grit your teeth under your lips, a flash of blue circulating in your head. "Dreams are for fools and children," you point your head to where Luffy is currently sitting, trying to put the chair back together with a half-empty tube of glue and little luck. 

"Come on, I know you better than that. Surely there's something in this world you want more than anything?"

"What I want is ..." You have half a mind to tell him the truth, whereas the other half wants to push the idea further down to the bottom of your chest. "Is another bottle of rum."

You raise your arm to Makino to gesture for another one, but Shanks is quick to lower it with a gentle shove of his arm. You flash him a scowl and brush off his hand, but unlike your crew or anyone else, he's not afraid.

"The point which I'm trying to make before you're completely pissed," he starts. "Is that no matter how much opposition one faces, it's that dreams are never out of reach if you have the will to reach for them."

He inclines his head over your shoulder, and you turn around to see Luffy successfully putting the chair back together. You don't know how he did it - it looked pretty busted minutes ago - but there it is, wholly intact.

And when the boy smiles, it's so vibrant and full of joy that it's almost blinding. He proudly runs over and shows the repaired chair to Makino, who proceeds to pat his head and hand him a plate of food.

"See?" Shanks grins. "Nothing is impossible."

"You can hardly consider putting a chair back together the same as achieving an impossible goal."

He shrugs. "Maybe not, but you won't know unless you try. All it takes is a little spirit."

You watch Shanks for a couple of minutes in silence, processing his mythic words, then shift your attention over to Luffy who's preoccupied with shoving an unholy amount of food into his mouth. If this is to become the future King of the Pirates one day, then it'll be an interesting future indeed.

"A little spirit, huh?" 

— — —

You're sad.

Luffy first notices it when you leave Orange Town, and it lingers throughout your voyage. 

For as long as he's known you, you've always been a person of relatively few words; never speaking unless you feel the situation requires it, and only acting when necessary. Even following the Kuro situation™, getting the Going Merry, and adding Usopp to his crew, he can tell that you're not all there anymore.

Not to be mistaken, you're not conspicuous with the way you behave. You still act like usual, talk like usual, however little, and commit yourself to your work on the ship, almost to an excessive extent. 

All in all, nothing’s changed about you. However, he’s gotten used to your face and general lack of expression most of the time, and though it doesn't seem to alter, he still catches onto the fact that you're sad. 

"Hey," he asks the group and props himself in the kitchen, legs crossed atop his seat. "Do you think she's any different?"

"Who? Your friend?" Nami asks, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, I think she's sad."

"Doesn't look any different to me," Zoro supplies while polishing his swords on the table. 

Usopp's in the middle of munching a piece of loaf, and answers with his mouth still halfway occupied. "Dunno how she usually is, but she's kinda terrifying if you ask me."

"No, she's not," Luffy dismisses lightly. 

"What's her position on the ship, anyhow? How'd you come across her?"

"She's always been with me," Luffy answers without any thought. "And she’s a good fighter.”

Zoro — to everyone’s surprise — nods his head to this in concurrence.

Their Captain claps his hands together to get the subject back on track. "But anyway, I just think she seems kind of down now."

"How can you even tell? With eyes like these, —” Usopp puts both of his index fingers at the crow’s feet of his eyes and draws them back to imitate yours. It’s borderline shameful, truth be told. “— I can’t tell for shit what she’s feeling or thinking.”

“I just can.” Luffy shrugs.

“Has she said anything?” Nami asks. “Anything to make you ask?”

“No, not really.” He heaves a sigh and props his hand under his chin, contemplating. “But she's been different since we left Orange Town.”

"If you ask me," Zoro speaks up. "You should ask her about her relationship with that fucking clown."

"Who? Boogie?"

"Buggy," Nami corrects. "Didn't you notice that at the end? They have a history, it's obvious. They know each other, and I don't know what pirate customs are like nowadays, but I doubt you'd touch the face of an enemy unless there was something going on. Has she said anything about it?"

Luffy shakes his head. “No... but then again, she never does tell me much about anything unless I ask.”

The tangerine-haired girl blinks as if the answer to this whole predicament is obvious. She quickly comes to realize that, to Luffy, it’s not.

“So…” she prompts slowly.

“So…?”

She rolls her eyes at his inability to catch her drift. “Go ask her.”

It’s like the thought never even crossed Luffy’s mind in the first place because truth be told, it hasn’t. He lights up like a candlestick on the spot. “Yeah, I should just ask her!”

“Ask me what?”

The members of the Straw Hat pirates (save for Zoro) withdraw in various unique positions, having not heard you make your entrance before you speak. 

You’re standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyebrow slightly quirked at the Baroque-esque scene in front of you. Deciding not to address the display, you simply ask, “Anything I should know about, Captain Luffy?”

Usopp doesn’t even dare to answer, because he knows you sure as hell don’t see him as a captain in general, much less your captain. He swears he notices you briefly look in his direction at the mention of the title, and a shiver runs across his skin. Like static electricity in the air.

“Oh, yeah,” Luffy turns to you, not an ounce of fear in his eyes as he pops the question. “Are you sad?”

You blink once, then twice, like the inquiry on its own is of unfathomable origins to you. “Do I look sad?”

The boy in the straw hat nods. “I think you do.”

“Then I’m not.” It’s not only an answer, but also a sentence that marks this subject as finished on your part. One that does not permit any subsequent additions.

You incline your head to the deck above. “We’re going to have company soon, likely Marines, and they seem to be in supply of heavy fire this time.”

———

The situation with the aforementioned opponents temporarily distracts the crew, yet Luffy maintains a close eye on you, taking note of anything that can point him to the source of the unknown problem. You talk relatively little with the other crew members, but you seem to have developed an amicable enough relationship with them compared to when you first met. 

Before, you could care less about getting to know them. Now, you’re actively going out of your way to ask Nami about her cartographic skills, even giving her tips for additions to her geographical detailing. You provide Zoro pointers on self-developed defensive techniques and ways to paralyze opponents in certain spots (which he seems appreciative of).

You even give Usopp a short nod when he tells you one of his fantastical stories, even knowing that they’re full of shit.

Luffy’s happy, but he still sees that you are not.

It’s all in your eyes. They’re hollow somehow, like the end of a barrel. He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he knows, and he’s known for a good while now.

So, that night, Luffy finds you in the kitchen by the windows, absentmindedly snacking on a red apple while you gaze into the dark nothingness outside. He also discovers that he’s subconsciously become quite observant of your habits as of late. 

For example, you specifically pick red apples above any other color when they happen to dock someplace, not even paying any mind to the green or yellow ones. Just the red ones.

“Hey,” he positions himself next to you on the bench, a piece of loaf tight in his hand. “Why are you sad?”

You turn your head just a fraction to the side to look at him, not annoyed, but not appreciative of the focus he’s settled on as of late. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? The Vice-Admiral looks a little weary as of late, after all. Are you sad about it?"

"Nope."

“So why do you insist that I’m sad?”

“Because you are,” he states like it’s obvious.

You huff humorously and return your attention to the window that supplies no real view. “How can you tell?”

“I just can.” He takes a generous bite of his food and continues talking, oblivious to the crumbles that fall while doing so. “When I’m sad, I—”

“Eat?”

“Well, yeah.” He swallows the bite down. “But I also like to talk about it with someone I trust. Shanks used to say that true friends are the kind of people you can share your heart with and not get hurt.”

This annoys you, that much he can tell. A nail digs into the apple you’re holding, leaving a crescent-shaped indent on the red skin. “Shanks said many things, and not all of it's true.”

This doesn’t deter him from pressing on the matter. “If you keep all the hurt inside, it’s going to turn bad. You know, Makino said that if you leave a piece of ham in the fridge too long, it’ll get sour and people can’t eat it.”

“Only you could find a way to compare this sort of thing to food.” You withdraw your finger from the apple and end up leaving it alone altogether. A minute or ten of silence waves between you, laced with unspoken questions and denied answers. “Tell me, Luffy, just how much did Shanks tell you about his past?”

He thinks for a moment, mimicking your movements by putting his loaf aside. “Just about his adventures with the Red-Haired Pirates, and a little about the time you served with him. Is it true you were strong enough to throw a three-hundred-pound man to the ground when you were thirteen?”

He swears it’s a snort that he catches leaving your throat, but it’s hard to differentiate it from your more-than-usual scoffs. “He exaggerated.”

“Really?”

“The man was two-fifty, at most.”

Luffy grins with genuine admiration, so much so that your face tilts back slightly, being overwhelmed by the mere brightness that is him. “Wow! You must’ve been quite a beast when you were a kid!”

He notices it again, the sadness that latches onto your eyes like insects to sour meat. Whatever brief smile adorned your lips moments ago disappears like it was never there at all. Thinking he said something wrong, Luffy prepares to apologize when you speak again.

Your voice is soft yet faint like you’re afraid speaking too loudly will make something bad happen. “It wasn’t just me and Shanks, back then, you know.”

The Captain of the Straw Hats thinks it’s almost unnatural of you to be this demure, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“Buggy was there, too. It was the three of us, together.”

“Oh, yeah.” He remembers it now. “He did mention that in Orange Town. You served the same crew.”

“… He did, did he?”

“He said you and Shanks betrayed him, but I didn’t believe him.” Luffy knows you and has known you for longer than he’s known a lot of people in his life. You’re one of the few permanent people he’s had, and he knows with a certainty that you’re not the kind of person who leaves anyone behind, not without reason. 

Even if you did have a reason for leaving Buggy, it must have been a good one.

Your mouth opens and shuts several times in the span of a minute like you’re hesitating to talk about the past. You’ve never been one to talk about it, except to share some details about your time as captain, and even that was limited to the bare minimum.

Still, Luffy, being in no hurry for you to reach an answer, waits patiently by your side until you do decide to talk about it.

Talk about what he believes is the reason for your sadness.

“We were close back in the days,” you begin slowly. “Me, him, and Shanks. It was us against the rest of the world, and we were going to sail together to the end of the seas one day. It was our dream.”

“Then, what happened?”

You put your palm over both your eyes and rest your elbow on the window frame, heaving a sigh that resembles someone who’s spent too much of their life working and working and working without catching any breaks. Pure, simple exhaustion weighs you down, Luffy can tell. 

When you speak next, you sound tired too, and perhaps a little strained. He can’t see your eyes, and so, he can’t truthfully tell what you’re thinking now. “The thing is, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” You breathe through your nostrils. “Our captain was gone, and so was the crew, but we three were still together, and I thought we were going to stay together.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No … We didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but one day when I was talking with Shanks about what to do next, Buggy came in, and it … He looked at me like … Like he hated me.” You exhale. “He did hate me, and I don’t know what it was I did, but he practically told me that we were done … And then he left. I never saw him again, up until Orange Town.”

Luffy doesn’t require your eyes this time to tell that you’re sad now because you are. You’re so sad that it’s destroying you from the inside, and even that is an understatement on its own. There are no tears trickling down your cheeks, no quivers or thickness to your voice, no nothing to base his assumptions on, but he knows.

He stays silent for a short while, doing nothing but look at you. You’re one of the strongest people he knows. He’s seen you fight; seen the strength you possess, the fire in your eyes. You’ve stayed with him ever since Shanks left Foosha Village, you’ve looked after him from the sidelines when you thought no one was watching. 

You’ve been with him throughout everything, and seeing you like this makes him feel blue on your behalf. You don’t express it yourself – you never do. You carry your weight with the same kind of strength you always do, never letting anyone see you beyond just that, and sometimes, he wonders if you’re lonely because of it. 

At least, now he knows why you’re so sad. You’re heartbroken.

He’s never been acquainted with the feeling himself, has never felt any particular inclination toward it, but he can tell it’s your heart that’s hurting now, and it’s not as easy to heal as that cuts he received on his chest from the butler.

His hat seems to itch the harder he thinks about it, as if there’s something digging at his scalp through his hat. He thought Nami patched it up for him. He tries to scratch at it, but for some reason, it doesn’t cease. Maybe he’s got lice? 

He ignores it. “It’s weird. Bunky seems to think you were the one who left him for Shanks.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know. You’re not that kind of person.” He says it so easily, without a smidgen of doubt or hesitation. You look at him through your peripheral vision, and your eyes slightly widen at his statement. “But, do you know what happened between them? Shanks and Bonky, I mean?”

“No, I don’t.” You admit with a shake of your head. You’ve tried to figure it out for years, and at some point, you decided to give up. “Shanks never told me, but whatever it was, it was enough for the stupid clown to leave for… He chose a childish rivalry over me.”

“Then, there you have it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding, so why don’t you just tell him if you meet him again?”

“You seem awfully defensive of the guy who destroyed an entire village and almost drowned you.”

“Yeah, but talking about him seems to make you happy.”

You freeze for a bit, snort, and turn your back to the window frame, leaning back and crossing your arms across your chest in silent resignation. “I tried to explain things to him back in Orange Town, and a fat load of good that did. Like I said, he hates me, and he’s sure as hell not my favorite person at the moment. If we do meet again, it likely won’t end any better than it back in Orange Town.”

“You know, –” Luffy takes another bite of his bread. “It didn’t sound like he hated you.”

“Hmm?” You raise an eyebrow, halfway curious and halfway skeptical. 

“He still remembers that you like red apples and that you hide knives in your shoes. Is that true?”

You raise both your eyebrows and look at Luffy like he’s just grown a second head. Without a word, you pull your left foot up until it rests on the bench, and withdraw not one or two knives, but four. Small and subtle, hardly enough to turn any heads, but in a flash, you throw it across the kitchen until it lands on a specific spot on the opposite wall. 

Bull’s eye.

“We used to have knife-throwing competitions,” you reminisce idly, staring at the knife lodged deep into the wall. “I was good, but Buggy was better.” Your lip tilts up an inch or two. “We made bets, and whoever lost would have to steal a bottle of whatever liquor we happened to find in the next town we docked at.”

“Oh?”

“I ended up snatching quite a lot of bottles, but once every blue moon, he would have to snatch one instead.” You smile. It’s an actual, genuine, honest smile this time, and Luffy can’t help but marvel at the sight. It’s a rare thing for you to smile like you’re doing now. It’s usually brief or sarcastic and never seems to reach your eyes. 

This one does.

He thinks you look pretty when you smile. It’s your smile, and it’s so warm that he wishes you could do it more often. He tells you as much, and a red color falls over your cheek. You promptly turn your face to the other side to save face, and it makes Luffy think.

When he thinks about his dream of becoming King of the Pirates, he can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. So, that begs the question: “What is your dream?” 

What makes you smile?

“My dream …” You reach for your apple and hold it against your face, the uneaten side of it shining against your face. “Is unattainable.

“I don’t think it is,” Luffy says without missing a beat and takes your hand in his, determined to make you see that. “I think that no matter how much stands against us, dreams are never impossible if you have the will to reach for them. All it takes is a little spirit.”

He doesn’t know where those words come from, but he’s heard them from someplace, and judging by your staggered reaction, you’ve heard them too. 

“A little spirit, huh?”

“Exactly! So, please tell me, what’s your dream?”

You look straight ahead into the room, resting your elbows back on the window frame without a word. He thinks you’re about to decline his question or ignore it altogether. However, he’s surprised to hear you actually answer this time, truthfully too.

“My dream was to sail the seas with him again.”

Suddenly, the itchiness on his head stops, and it stays that way.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #buggy x female reader #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks

[fourmoony]

James and reader having a lazy weekend!! They usually have pretty active weekends due to errands and seeing friends, but this weekend has been made the LAZY WEEKEND! Lots of eepy cuddles in bed and on the couch, easy meals with yummy snacks, and movies on 24/7!! Cozy pajamas with only the softest blankets too teehee

I love this!! I need a lazy weekend with Jamie and I need it NOW! Thanks for requesting, sweetheart!!

cw: brief mention of sex, 800 words

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this level of content. It’s a peace that blankets your entire apartment, your entire body, right down to your muscles and bones. For the first time, you’re not thinking about the million errands that need to be run, the assignments that are piling high for various different classes, or birthday dinners, nights out with friends, sports games that you have to cheer at. Everything is quiet. Even the television, of which has been turned down to a significantly low volume, is quiet.

On a normal day, you’d feel like a slob. Almost an entire weekend on the couch, eating takeout and snacks, letting the dishes pile up, the washing basket overflow, and your phone go ignored would usually have your nerves on end. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when James has you tucked into his chest, a leg nestled between yours, and his hands rubbing incessant circles on the skin of your hip. You’re both lying facing the television, watching what’s probably your fifth movie of the day.

Every morsel of your being feels calm. You're grateful for your life, especially so that you get to live it with James and your friends. But there's always something happening, always some event or dinner and you really do enjoy them, enjoy spending time with the people you love, but it's nice, for once, to just be lazy. It's nice to lay on the couch and watch movie after movie and eat shitty takeout with your boyfriend.

You're sure the noise of your chaotic lives will resume first thing on Monday morning. But it's Sunday afternoon and you're floating on the high of your boyfriend's lazy touches and a weekend spent doing nothing.

"I wish we did this more often." James mumbles into your shoulder, as though he's been reading the very thoughts running through your mind.

His voice is laced with lethargy, a lazy husk that would make you kiss him silly if you weren't so comfortable. You sigh wistfully in agreement. The calm and quiet of it all is great, but even more so, you love just being close to James. You love the quality time and the lazy cuddles, the slow sex and the feeling of him constantly surrounding you. "Me too. Our lives are too hectic." You agree.

James grumbles a laugh and the feeling of his chest rumbling against your back makes you smile. "You'd rather be a social recluse?" Your boyfriend teases.

His pointer finger and thumb pinch the skin of your hip playfully. You roll your eyes at his teasing. "No," You deny, rather petulantly, "It's just... we're always doing something. I'd like a couple days a month where we can just exist. You know?"

He hums thoughtfully, thumb smoothing over his pinch mark. "I'm sure if we try we can make that happen, baby."

Your muscles protest when you turn in his grasp, chest to chest, until you're looking up into his stupidly beautiful eyes. James' eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. How bright they were, how when he smiled, they lit up like fairy lights strung across the most perfect landscape. They never fail to steal the breath from you, a melted honey-hazel colour you wish you could bottle up and sell, if only to make yourself a millionaire so you and James would never have to work, again, so you could spend all day every day snuggled on the couch, watching shitty Channel Five movies.

His eyes steal the breath from your lungs, now. James looks at you with such gentleness, such love, that your chest constricts and you feel that overwhelming, all consuming sense of love that only he has ever made you feel. "Really?" You ask, ghost of a smile on your lips.

It makes James smile wide, your evident happiness to his suggestion. He's so giving, so caring. Sometimes, the amount of love you have for him feels like it might swallow you whole, crush you into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Really. We'll find time. 'Cause it matters." His words are final.

You hum happily, push your face as far into James' sleep shirt clad chest as it will go. His arms tighten around you, warmth and the familiar scent of him encompassing your very being. Right now, this moment here, you never want to leave it.

"I love you." You tell him, and the words don't feel enough. They don't feel like justification for the way you feel about James Potter. They never will.

James' lips are soft and warm as they find the skin of your forehead, a reassuring kiss left there that you think means James gets it, and he feels the same. "To the moon and the stars."

"And all the way back?"

James huffs a laugh, arms squeezing even tighter. "And all the way back."

#marauders #james potter #fourmoonys asks #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x f!reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders imagine #sirius black #remus lupin #fourmoony #angst #love #fluff #smut

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐬 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠!) - 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. idiots in love. mild angst. fluff. happy ending. attempt at humor. plot with a side of porn. the timeline is mostly accurate. max verstappen is an oblivious idiot. daniel ricciardo is an obvious idiot. 5+1 things (in a way). the three musketeers: charles, pierre, and lando. light praise kink. light dom/sub undertones. mild orgasm delay/denial. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 9.5k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: max verstappen x daniel ricciardo

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: so....how's life been treating y'all while i disappeared for two months :) ? no, um, sorry for ghosting you guys; i know, i'm surprised that i didn't forget my login info. life started being life for a good amount of time and i got really sucked into school and work. aside from the boring everyday stuff, i've got an internship this summer (yay!), i'm pretty sure i have a bit of a mutual-crush with this boy in my morning lecture, and i've started playing final fantasy sixteen.

anyways, this is my longest work ever! and i'm dedicating it to one of my sweetest betas, bianca. you requested this long before my disappearing act in december, and i told you i was nearly finished with a 6k-word fic for your request. to make up for my unexplained absence, i rewrote the entire thing into a near ten-thousand word feel-good masterpiece.

i hope this fic is of good enough quality for all of you wonderful f1-stans to forgive me because, i'm back, and hopefuily here to stay lol. enjoy reading, loves < 3.

requested & written by/for @biancathecool

join taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents↻

milton keynes, red bull racing headquarters, pre-season 2023

daniel looks happy. max doesn’t know why that surprises him—maybe he’s projecting his emotions (his therapist says he does that quite often) onto the man. the surprise makes sense though, max thinks, as he watches the australian chatter away with the engineers, the largest toothy smile spread across his face like he never left red bull behind in 2018. if it were max who had gone through the mclaren bullshit along with not having a guaranteed seat for the upcoming 2023 season, and he had to settle for a third driver position: he would scourge the world with his fury.

but: it’s not max, it’s daniel. it’s daniel, who was warmly welcomed back into navy blue (papaya did not suit him), it’s daniel, who doesn’t snap at the marketing team when they ask how he’s “coping” with not being on the grid. it’s daniel, who becomes friends with checo easily. it’s daniel, who’s scheduled to fulfill the pr activities that the two red bull drivers refuse to complete. it’s daniel, who has clocked in insane hours in the sim and factory while max has been enjoying his off-season. 

it’s daniel, who hasn’t shown any signs of disappointment about not having a seat this year.

if he won’t show or admit it, max will. having a race weekend without daniel doesn’t feel right. max knows this, even though the season hasn’t started yet: he’s going to be miserable. it’s like when daniel left him the team. of course, max had pushed daniel away after he signed with renault. what was he supposed to do? react calmly with the emotional intelligence he didn’t have? max thought the man hated him when he didn’t tell him that he was leaving before the news was released. 

regardless, instead of the australian leaving, this time around he’s coming back, which max had originally believed was the best thing to ever happen. he’s not so sure of that anymore. daniel belongs in the car chasing him with the smell of burning rubber and petrol surrounding them. max doesn’t appreciate how the smell of race tracks has already disappeared from him. he could tell it was missing when daniel made a show of giving max the biggest hug as soon as he stepped foot in the factory.

maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness.

“max, kid,” christian waves a hand in front of max’s face with an unimpressed look, “did you hear a single thing i said or were you too distracted by the sight of daniel in red bull gear again?”

the tips of max’s ears redden, and he snaps his head away from where it was turned to watch daniel’s constant smile, to face his team principal. max doesn’t know what he was thinking; his crush is going nowhere.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑.

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35

© httpsserene 2023

#max verstappen x daniel ricciardo #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #maxiel #charles leclerc smut #pierre gasly smut #lando norris smut #formula 1 fic #serene’s chapters. #serene’s fave. #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: mv. #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr. #f1 x reader

[kaisertheadvisor]

Alright, time for some obscure Persona 3 history. I was browsing the old Japanese Persona 3 website, when I stumbled across something interesting. This is what it looks like normally (Vanilla P3 specifically)

But on certain captures of this website on the Wayback Machine, it was set to midnight (JST). The website was coded to have a special easter egg that goes off around that time, as the Dark Hour clock appears...

And then the site is now in the Dark Hour.

Click on the Akihiko, Mitsuru, Fuuka, and Junpei, and cause them to disappear, and Yukari will start to glow.

And you will have unlocked a secret section of the Japanese website! This mostly contained diary entries on various perspectives regarding the Dark Hour (on one section, there even was text regarding Strega's revenge request site), but there also were some secret downloads, namely a supposedly early version of a Persona 3 commercial (which Google translate says it was rejected by a TV station for containing subliminal content?), MP3 downloads, a video showcasing the P3 girls in maid costumes in Tartarus, and a message from Elizabeth to the player (which acted as a tease towards the new Elizabeth requests being added in FES). I have the latest capture of the secret section of the website, as well as a capture of the website during the Dark Hour so you can try this for yourself! (You'll need Ruffle for this)

Speaking of the Persona 3 website, let's go over some of the evolution of the P3 website! Here's the original version of the website when Persona 3 was first announced.

It was updated from P3's initial announcement in March towards May when the newer website was launched, last major update was Fuuka Yamagishi's character profile. Here's a Wayback Machine link for you to try it out yourself.

Here is the website around the time they were teasing FES. Makoto is replaced with Aigis, and there was a section containing audio messages from the developers that would help tease FES. (So far, they are lost media? Hopefully some fan manages to recover them)

And here is the FES version of the website, with both the normal and Dark Hour variations. (Metis replaces Yukari on the Dark Hour variation of the website, though I cannot access the secret section, probably because the silly toaster is blocking the way)

And just for funzies, I thought I'd include this link regarding P3 ads in this blogpost on the old AtlusNet. Hopefully somebody will get high quality scans of the magazine ads and promos used to promote P3 in both Japanese and English.

Now to wonder, what other crazy P3 promotional stunts did Atlus do? I know there was a countdown on the Atlus USA website that counted down the days until the release information on FES would be provided to the world, and I'm well aware of various Japanese gaming magazines that had various info on P3 (that so far only exist as JPEGS on the old Digital Devil Database and other websites), but man, I wanna know more. The fans should be archiving a lot of this stuff. Reload has re-triggered my Persona 3 phase, and I want to know more secrets about the game. I honestly think there's a lot of cool things waiting for us down the line...

#persona 3 #atlus #2000s game advertising was wild man #hopefully a lot of this doesn't end up as lost media #i'm just doing my best to archive a lot of this stuff for future fans of persona 3 #maybe if atlus had the guts they'd bring back the old websites for april fools day #course i'm waiting for someone to remake the old persona 3 website but this time with the reload art for the characters

[daydreamvalley]

October Sunsets (1) - nanami kento

𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 Summary: You daydream about a sweet conversation you had earlier in the day with Nanami, right before he left for a job in Shibuya.

Content: Fluff + slight angst

7:00 pm, October 31st, Haneda Airport, sounds of passengers trying to find their seats and infants crying filled the air while you sat in a frozen state, looking down at your phone screen with furrowed brows. The single ticks next to your images still stared back at you. Pending. It had been ten minutes, yet he was not owning up to his part of the request he made. Nanami asked for two images, one containing evidence of the bread he recommended you try at the airport cafe. The other is a photo of your choice, just not a picture of yourself since you'll already be bombarding him with plenty throughout the flight. 

Your second undelivered message read: "Bossy much? Here you go, it's a pretty sunset, don't you think?" 

In your opinion, it was. It was taken while facing a large airport window that gave you a view of the departing planes. The autumn sky was free of clouds, with only clear hues of orange and purple in the image. Its quality made up for the previous blurry bread photo. Exhaling in defeat, you accepted that he may have begun the big task he hinted at having to do that evening. Denmark was fifteen hours away. You'd hoped to depart in a better mood after an anticipated message from your ex-coworker making fun of your poor photography skills. Even two grey ticks would suffice. Your cheeks started to warm just at the thought of his teasing, but you couldn’t let your mind wander or else you wouldn’t stop. Turning to your right, you realized your isle seat was going to be empty, freeing whichever lucky soul from witnessing the nightmare of you smiling at yourself alone. Though, he didn’t deserve that much since you should be upset with him. After shutting off the power on the phone, annoyingly shoving it into your tote bag, and then letting out a scoff, the last bit of your parting conversation with him suddenly replayed in your mind. 

~ 

The two of you walked side by side on the pavement to your apartment building, “Did you pack the neck pillow?” He had already begun interrogating. 

“The one that you bought for me. Now imagine the drama if I forgot it.” 

“I’m the only person who owns your extra apartment key, so try not to forget anything. Shoko wants me on call later tonight, and I most likely won’t get your messages. 

“Okay, but you keep dismissing what I asked earlier. Are you sure there’s nothing you’re curious about in Denmark that you want me to relay to you while I’m there?”

“Nothing my family hasn’t already told me. At this age, I only care to know that I have lineage there. I doubt anyone related to me in Denmark knows I exist. I'm also a sorcerer, and jujutsu sorcery is a shitstorm. Can I ask that you bring me lots of pastries?” 

“I could run into your distant cousin and you’re still thinking about bread.” You stop mid-walk to face him in disbelief. Still curious as to how he could address such a deep part of himself like it's an uninteresting topic. 

“I'm not curious about it. Baking, on the other hand. Where do I even begin? Is the bakery outside your office building still there? Nothing will compare to that place. Expensive but it was worth it.” Nanami asks, stopping your walk to the entrance of your apartment building to pull out his cell phone.

“It’s not a historical monument. Of course, it’s still there.” 

“Then I’ll replace your presence in the cafe while you're away. The leather couch in the back corner is still your favorite right?” He was now taking pictures of the bright dawn above him.

“Replacing me also means talking to my coworkers. Your ex-coworkers.”

He cringed at the idea, “Hmm. You were the only person I talked to there.” 

You giggle at the current visual of him leaning back like a photographer with one eye closed. “Exactly. You can admit you miss your bread. Don’t use me as an excuse. Also, the sky isn’t that pretty at this time why’d you take a picture?” 

“If it feels right to me, I snap the photo. Not thinking too much about it at the time makes looking back at it more special.” He firmly states while he showed you the image. “It’s a feeling.”

“Don't take offence, but I’m not sure I get it.” You give a sheepish smile, honestly wishing you could understand his vision.

“None taken. It’s nothing complicated. Try it today. When you have a gut feeling that your memory won’t serve you in the future when you reminisce about a specific day, document it with the sky.” He advises while slipping the phone back into his cream-white blazer's inner pocket. “Send them to me too. I’ll create a folder for our sunsets.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair. You get pastries, sunsets, and travel photos. I want more than a folder in your camera roll when I return.” You sternly said, with your hands on your hips, but quickly lost your confident stance when the brisk air pricked your bare arms, causing a full-body shiver.

Nanami maintained eye contact while removing his blazer to snug it around your shoulders. 

“You’re right. How about a date then?”

Your eyes widened. For the new warmth that blanketed your skin and the fact that he had finally said it. The one word you’ve been yearning to hear from him since you started spending time together after he left the insurance company. The event that could lift the barrier. The barrier which maintained your label as his good friend. An ex-colleague. Turning the potentially one-sided crush you’ve had on him into a mutual pursuit. 

“Not at the bakery.” You mentally slap yourself for being so quick to respond. Thinking you had removed all the chances to come off as cool. 

A deep, raspy chuckle left his body, “No. Not the bakery. I’ll worry about the location. You just show up the same as always, lovely and perfect. The experience will be befitting of you.” 

“If you say so.” You bashfully comment. Not being able to meet his eyes, you lifted a hand to playfully shove his arm, but he gently held it in place. 

With the same gentle manner, he interlocked your fingers. His swift action made you ponder, whether the blazer was doing its job or the brown eyes beaming at you was increasing your body temperature. 

Softly grazing his fingers across your knuckles, he brought the back of your hand to his lips. Placing a tender kiss. 

“Don’t become a stranger.”

“Impossible.”

~ 

11:14 pm, October 31st, somewhere in the air. 

A hand tugged on the cream-white blazer you used as a blanket, succeeding at waking you up from a nap.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m delivering the next meal to you now.” The soft-spoken flight attendant apologized. She placed the tray on the vacant tray table. 

Almost forgetting where you were, you half sleepily heartened to her, “It’s not a problem. Thank you.” 

Barely looking in the right direction, it took a couple of seconds, paired with an infant's cries to recall your location. 

I’m not suffering again. Where are my EarPods?

Digging into the blazer pockets, you felt a heavy metal. Shit. The weight of your heart had become heavier. The chances of you shitting yourself were on par with the crying infant on the plane. You might have just ruined the chances of having your first date with Nanami. 

You hijacked the guy’s phone. Any audacity you thought you had to be frustrated with him for not responding to your texts instantly vanished. 

Okay! First time writing a longer piece so be nice.

Will probably do a part two if anyone wants it!

Edit: we did it (Part 2)

This is rough idea so let me know what details I can articulate better.

It’s also on Ao3, if you would prefer to continue the rest there!

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami fluff #nanami angst #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jjk shibuya arc #jjk moodboard #nanami headcanons #nanami imagines #nanami scenarios #nanami fanfic #nanamin #shoko ieiri #jjk manga #nanami x reader #nanami x black!reader #jjk fluff #jjk anime #jjk #jjk x reader #ao3

[py-dreamer]

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

#lmk #my beloved #lego monkie kid #pog champ #py's_art #lmk mk #lmk red son #happy valentine's day #lmk fanart #spicynoodles #lmk mei #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk sandy #lmk huntsman #lmk syntax #lmk spider queen #lmk spider demons #lmk mayor #lmk scorpion queen #lmk nezha #shadowpeach #silktea #lmk freenoodles #Inkyfeathers #toxicinsanity #venomqueens #lotusdragon

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

(translator use, Sorry if there are any mistakes in this)

First, I love you, I'm super in love with hyugo and you're one of the few people who made x reader content with him, and the writing is so well done that God. It's beautiful 😭💙

Could I request some headcanons with a shy reader? Just like the one you did with Geo but with Hyugo?

Reticence (Hyugo x Shy! MC/Reader)

Thank you for being so patient with me Anon and @cuentademeri *quietly despairs and prays for forgiveness* and for reading my work! I had fun writing this (however, reminder that I am someone who isn't even remotely shy,so if the shyness part seems inaccurate, well, I tried). Hope you enjoy! :D

P.S Thank you for the compliments. <33 They're appreciated.

A/N: Btw if I take longer to answer requests, it's not because I gave up on them, it's simply the fact I don't want to make this blog quantity > quality. Also an original work for TKATB shall be out soon, so uh rejoice.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Reticence: an unwillingness to do something or talk about something, for example because you are nervous or being careful.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hyugo first met you, he simply thought you were quiet, like Sol. Until he noticed you essentially never talked.

He wasn't concerned per se, more so curious. Did you feel awkward with him and Sol? Why even sit if you weren't gonna chat?

Tries to befriend you, is the type to wave to you and grin if he sees you around.

Is honestly a tad surprised when he finds out you're shy and reserved.

Doesn't have any issue with it though.

Will make more of an effort to chat you up. Words of affirmation and aggressive positivity galore. "The girls keep saying I'm hideous. I don't believe them but..." "You're not." "Yeah but-" "No buts! Those are for sitting! And I'm going to make sure said people who called you that won't be able to comfortably sit ever again!"

When you star talking more, he's a very happy man.

Likes it when you tell him things, doesn't matter what. He just enjoys hearing you chat about nothing.

He'll ask you at some point why you are shy. He's never been shy so he was curious.

You just explain you're simply not as outgoing as a lot of other people are.

But if you feel shy partially due to appearance woes? He'll tell you you look gorgeous! (He means it he just hasn't realised the extent of said words).

Oh, but if you get bullied? Doesn't matter for what, Hyugo'll fight those responsible (Sol's got too much on his plate already *sob*). Will stand up for you if conflicts arise, mf won't even bat an eye.

He honestly doesn't understand why people target you. You're sweet, cute, even funny when you start crawling out of your shell.

He's honestly angry about it.

He doesn't even fully understand why he feels so strongly about you, nor why he's so eager to see you.

Until one day it hits him. Hard.

It's not like he couldn't see it coming, he suspected it deep down, but refused to admit it.

He has too much shit on his shoulders to catch feelings, no matter how angelic or beautiful or smart you may be.

Alas, his heart has other plans, because it eventually will decide to beat solely for you.

Y'all are the classic "Shy x Outgoing" trope.

He's fine with it. He gets to boost your self-confidence, get you to open up bit by bit, until he's got tens of files on you; with only the necessities of course: - Where you were born - When? What time? - Parents? Carers? Financial situations (doesn't know about the debt teehee) - You get the point

Asks you out right after graduation if he's alive then anyway, to which you say yes. Obviously.

Becomes a very content guy, literally spoils you more than a king ever could. He's rich af.

Will hold your hand in public if you're shy or anxious, is okay with also not holding you if you wish although he will pout at the latter with his plump fucking lips.

Also boosts your confidence, eventually you and him end up having the most absurd, comical banter known to man.

Hyugo is am 11/10 bf, will cater for you, and will never tire of ensuring you're comfortable, content and cordial with him.

And you most definitely are. <33

#the kid at the back #tkatb #tkatb vn #reminder that geo is superior #hyugo sugimoto #tkatb x reader #tkatb hyugo #i love this bigdickedbigthighed man #he's so epic

[feral--darling]

In response to this post (https://www.tumblr.com/messiahzzz/742694448371236864/im-not-here-to-claim-that-wyll-doesnt-deserve?source=share) I saw the other day claiming that it's hostile for Wyll fans to "demand" more content for him, and that objecting to his lack of content is "misinformation"... I have so many thoughts.

I have a bit of an issue with calling a difference in opinion "misinformation" as though Wyll fans are lying about the fact that Wyll, as a character, is underdeveloped. I see a lot of people online who use data to back up their own opinion by manipulating statistics in a way that supports their argument without looking at the information holistically.

Sure, we can look at the length of time that Wyll spends on screen, and look at the number of words he was allowed to say throughout the game so say "haha! See, he gets plenty of screen time so you can all shut up about how his character has been done a disservice!" However, there is a huge problem when all of his "screen time" is purely used as 1) a method of moving along the main storyline because he is the *Son*of the Duke of Baldur's Gate which is the titular city in which the majority of the game is set or 2) as a backdrop to focus on other characters' stories (I'm looking at Mizora and Karlach here).

If we were to separate out scenes in which Wyll is present and scenes which revolve entirely around Wyll as a person and not in reaction to someone else, the number of "scenes" he has, according to the list given by the OP, goes down significantly.

1. The "Meeting Karlach" scene is almost entirely about Karlach and the outcome can be decided by the player character without input from Wyll. I would only very loosely call that a "Wyll scene" because it shares very heavily with Karlach.

2. Similarly, the "Mizora scene" has things happening to Wyll but much of the conversation happens between the player character and Mizora - they talk over Wyll as though he is a naughty pet who peed on the floor and the grownups have to decide how they're going to clean up his mess. This is, again, a case where Wyll is in the scene and things are happening to him, but we don't get any one-on-one scenes with him exploring how he feels about it, or what even happens to him. We get a line from the Narrator which tells us that it - his torture- feels like an eternity for him but lasts only seconds for us. What happened to him during that time? How long was he being tortured? Was he actually dragged through all Nine levels of Hell during that time? Did he meet all the devils at each level and get tortured by them? We don't know any of this, because the scene was not focused on what was happening to Wyll. It was focused on Mizora and how she was able to punish him as his Patron.

3. The tiefling party dialogue, where he spends most of the time complaining about looking like a tiefling regardless of whether he is speaking to a tiefling, in a party filled with tieflings, is... well. It's certainly a choice that was made by his devs and story writers. Do I think Wyll would spend the whole tiefling party complaining about how people who look like *tieflings* don't deserve to party because they have horns and claws? No. Do I think the brief kiss you can get from him (only if you choose one very specific dialogue choice and none others) is enough to balance out the rest of this inconsistency for his content in Act one? Also no. But I hope this doesn't come off as too "hostile" and "antagonistic" in the face of the fact that he was allowed to talk for such a long time! We should be grateful that we're even able to hear his voice for all that time even if the quality of what he's saying is subpar, right?

4. The dance scene is cute. It's one of the only scenes that is all about Wyll as a person and a character. He doesn't really talk about himself much, but at least Mizora isn't there so that's... something, right?

5. More scenes where Mizora is the focus. She comes to camp to demand that the player character frees Zariel's asset (and they can talk over Wyll the entire time with basically no input from him. Nothing about his background, past, present feelings, hopes for the future.) Do people understand the difference between being present in a scene and being the *focus* of a scene? A good example would be the difference between a scene where Mizora is talking to the player, vs when Elminster comes to tell Gale to kill himself. During the Elminster conversation, the player character is there, but it is clearly a conversation between Gale and Elminster. There is the option for Tav to leave the conversation to Gale (an option which is also there for Lae'Zel scenes with the Githyanki) and the interaction can go forward without much input from the player. We are watching two people converse. When Mizora visits camp, she talks to the player character and talks about Wyll like he's a dog. She is very much the focus of the scene and Wyll is a prop or background character.

6. The fact that Mizora joins the camp and there is no option for Wyll or Tav to tell her to leave is NOT A GOOD THING?? This just further goes to prove how much of Wyll's "storyline" is actually just a Mizora storyline. If we separated the parts of Wyll's content that revolve SOLELY AROUND the white-coded devil woman who enslaved him as a child (17 yo is a child to me, argue with someone else about that) ... he has the dance scene, the proposal scene (where the intimate scene happens off screen because the devs really just didn't want to animate a sex scene with a black character because who wants to see *that*?) and maybe a kiss at the tiefling party if you choose the one very particular dialogue tree that leads to it. (Honestly, why do you start that by saying "surely you know why I came out here to find you" ?? It doesn't intuitively lead to a kiss in my mind. AND THEN you have to roll a persuasion check to convince him to kiss you?? WHAT?? WHY?)

I, as a Wyll fan, have an issue with the fact that he has so few scenes AND that most of them are of such low quality that they can barely be counted as his scenes at all. So stretching the numbers to include any scene in which Wyll is even present in the scene... It's just not good enough to combat the obvious lack of care that has gone into the writing of his character. Sorry if that seems ungrateful, or "hostile" 🙃

On to the issue of his autonomy: I don't know if OP just hasn't played with Gale, Karlach or Astarion in their party to the end. Karlach's autonomy is that if you kill Gortash without her in your party, she will get angry and leave. Gale can decide to keep the crown and become a god whether or not you want him to, even if you tell him you don't want him to. Although Astarion needs the player character's help to complete the ascension ritual, if you don't help him and can't convince him that foregoing ascension is the right thing to do, **he will leave your party with all the equipment and gear that he has on him**. I don't know what he says if you complete the Cazador quest without him in your party but I can assume there will be some furious words and he will possibly leave. Why? Because his writers have given him enough personality and agency that I pretty much can guess how he would react to any situation. They are all clearly able to show their own wants or needs regarding their own personal storyline.

Wyll, on the other hand, apparently has no wants or needs. If you go to the Iron Throne and let his dad die, he is fine (i.e. he wont leave the party and there will be no actual consequences). If you choose to reject Mizoras' contract and condemn his father to death, he is fine. If you choose to damn him to an eternity of serving Mizora in return for his father's life, he is fine. The only circumstance in which he will leave the party is if you go the evil route and kill all the tieflings in Act one. Regarding his own personal storyline though? Tav makes all his decisions without discussing it with him and he apparently has no problem with that. There is no option to say "hey man, I've only known you for a couple weeks. Maybe you should decide how your life and future will play out?"

Again. It's an issue of both quality AND quantity.

Finally, the issue with the "Ansur quest" being moved from Wylls main storyline to a side quest is symbolic of the rest of the issues we have with Wyll content. Many of Wyll's quests could be moved to the "main quest" or "side quest" subheadings without affecting the game at all. THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT. The companion quests should be PERSONAL to the COMPANIONS. The fact that THE ANSUR QUEST ABOUT THE EMPEROR was the CULMINATION of Wyll's PERSONAL QUEST was a travesty. The developers would not have been able to easily move any other companion's ENDING TO THEIR PERSONAL QUEST to a side mission without having any impact on the game because there was care an thought put into the other companions' personal quests that wasn't put into Wyll's personal quest. I'm hoping that they're gearing up to give Wyll an actual ending to his personal quest and that's why they've changed that quest to a side mission. HOWEVER, it has been months since the "full release" of the game. There have been 6 patches and 19 hotfixes and there have been no material improvements to Wyll's content and characterisation. The hope is getting spread thin.

Honestly, I feel that people who are only willing to point out the "hostility" of fans who noticed a discrepancy between the quality and quantity of content devoted to a black character and feel "scared" to interact with the fans of said black character should stay in their own fandom spaces where they feel safe. No one is asking for a saviour from the fandom who feels uncomfortable owning up to their own racism and anti-blackness (hint: we live in a world that was colonised by white supremacists hundreds of years ago. We ALL have racism and anti-blackness to unpack). No one is asking fans to interact with Wyll when they don't want to. No one is asking the fans to stop being racist. We're asking the *developers and writers* to stop being racist. To listen to black voices if they feel the need to throw a black character into their game which is mostly marketed to straight white men. And give Wyll the content he deserves.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #larian studios #larian critical

[critical-twenty]

I'm kinda new to the cr fandom so i only know c1 stuff... could you write something with the prompt "is it okay to hug you?" from the part 2 list! Maybe something with the party having a s/o who struggles with touch and being vulnerable who has been having a very stressful day? Cries easily when they are frustrated or upset? 😢 If thats too much maybe just something with Vax or Percy cause i love them the most. 💖

sorry this is so late! it’s been sitting in my notes for ages, i’ve just been too busy to post it!

S/O who struggles with touch has a stressful day!

Vax

Vax never really has an issue with the lack of touch in your relationship

Sure, he likes to hold your hand, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t want to

He’s able to fluster you with just his words anyway

But when you come home one day with tears in your eyes and tension in your back, Vax is unsure of what to do

His first instinct is to reach out to you. It’s what he does for Vex and the others, so why wouldn’t he?

He stops himself when he remembers how much you dislike being touched without express permission

Even when you start crying, Vax doesn’t want to make things worse, so he just stares at you as he tries to ask what’s wrong

You look up at him through tearful eyes and ask ‘Can I hug you?’

Vax is immediately scooping you into his arms, letting his warmth invade your senses and comfort you

He tentatively begins to rub a hand up and down your back, continuing when you don’t tell him to stop

He’s relieved, in all honesty. He’s relieved he can help you and he’s honored that you let him hug you in such a moment of need

When you finally calm down enough to talk, he draws away to give you some space

His fingers stay connected with yours though, as you won’t let him go

He smiles at this, before pressing a kiss to your head

‘I’m sorry you had such a hard day, sweetheart. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be’

And he is 🖤

Grog

It took Grog a while to understand your reluctance in touch

It wasn’t that he thought it was weird, he just couldn’t read the signals as to how uncomfortable you were with his physical affection and you didn’t want to say anything

Finally, though, you told him about how you weren’t the biggest fan of touching

He nods, but it doesn’t fully register

Still he tries his best to remember, but he forget sometimes

He apologizes when he forgets and you can’t really get mad at him when he’s so genuine

When you come back home from a really rough day, Grog can instantly tell that something is up

He’s not the smartest, but when it comes to your happiness, he’s learned to become more attentive

He also knows that you don’t always want to be touched when you’re like this

(Pike had reminded him enough that it stuck with him)

So he watches you until he really can’t stand the sight of it anymore

‘Can I hug you?’

You look up at him with tears ready to fall and nod

Grog gives the best comforting hugs. He’s gentle but firm and he won’t let go until you ask him to

He’s not perfect, but he’s trying

Percy

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was never a man who thrived in touch

He rarely initiated physical contact with you and whenever he did, he asked for your permission first

It was like he already knew about your dislike for touch without you even telling him

(He definitely did. He’s observant enough to see your subtle emotions and tells)

You were perfectly content with a dynamic mostly built on quality time and acts of service, rather than physical affection

This wasn’t always the case though

You had had a particularly hard day at work. There was so much to do and you felt like not enough time to do it all

So, when you walked into Percy’s Tinker Room, he instantly noticed your tense demeanor

He is the king of stress himself, he knows the signs

However he doesn’t know what to do. He knows that he likes to be alone when stressed, but by seeking him out you seem to want to be around him

He contemplates in his head for a moment as you tell him about your day, waiting for you to finish before he stands up and comes over to you

‘May I hug you, darling?’

You immediately look at him, before barreling into his arms

He’s quick to wrap them around you, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as he tries to ground you

He’ll hold you as long as you want. He’ll even offer cuddles

Needless to say, he’s done working for the day. You need him and that’s 10x more important than anything else

Scanlan

It took Scanlan awhile to adapt to your feelings on touch

He’s a naturally extroverted person and he’s usually the first to initiate physical contact with anyone, so it’s an adjustment for him

However, once he finds out that it’s even more fun to fluster you with his shitty pick-up lines and love songs, the physical touch thing becomes easier

He slips up every once in a while, but he tries to make it up to you (he is a secret romantic underneath that… sexual persona)

You go find him, sitting with his lute, after an awful day

You were tired, and stressed, and part of you just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when this project you were working on was over

Scanlan knew the minute you walked over to him that something was up

Not wanting to be obvious in his effort to comfort you, and not wanting to touch you when you were clearly already tense, he decided to do what he does best: talk

He began to make small talk, talking about his songs and his day and whatever was going on with his friends

He thought it was working, until you said his name and looked up at him with tired eyes

‘Can I have a hug?’

He was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting it, but he got over it quickly

He lightly wrapped himself around you, holding you close and just letting it be

It was rare that Scanlan was so silent but, for once, the only sound was breathing

It was a small moment, but it was more than enough for you

Keyleth

Keyleth was awkward at first

Not because she had a hard time without physical affection, but more because she didn’t know what to do in general

Romance was still foreign to her

Still, she read your body language with perfection

You didn’t even need to tell her that you didn’t like physical touch… she just knew

You were thankful for that

It had been a stressful day and you were really just looking forward to hanging out with Keyleth

Sitting in the forest and listening to her talk to the plants always calmed you down

But even as you sat there, the stress didn’t go away

Keyleth noticed immediately, of course

She’s not great at words but she is more than adept at movement

‘…Is it okay if I hug you?’

You looked up with wide eyes and Keyleth immediately backtracks

‘We don’t have to, of course! You just seemed a bit tense and I thought maybe a hug might help be we don’t have to do that if you don’t-‘

She’s cut off by your arms gently wrapping around her waist

She freezes for a moment, before embracing you

It’s warm and comforting and Keyleth suddenly understands why people like doing this so much

She’ll hold you as long as you need. After all, she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are

Vex

Vex’ahlia is the queen of subtle touches

She loved resting a hand on the shoulders of her friends, or bumping into them playfully as they walked

It took a bit of self-control to not do those things with you

It wasn’t hard, per say. It just required a bit more focus and awareness of her movements

But, Vex would do anything for you, so she learned (quickly, as expected)

It was after a fight, while everyone was setting up camp, that Vex noticed the look on your face

It was the same look she saw when you were stuck on a particular puzzle, or when everything seemed to be piling on your shoulders

‘My dear, are you alright?’

You shrug half heartedly

‘Would you like to accompany Trinket and I on a walk? I think it will be quite relaxing and the moon is especially gorgeous tonight.’

Vex waits for your reply when finally you look up

‘Vex, will you hold me?’

Vex doesn’t even falter

Sure, she’s surprised, but the urge to comfort you overrides everything else

She hold you as close as she can without it being uncomfortable, rubbing circles on your back and whispering sweet encouragements into your ear

When you part, she tells you to take your time joining the rest of the party, before turning around and giving hushed threats to anyone who dares make a comment

You hear them, but it’s endearing. It shows that she care.

Pike

Pike is a very affectionate person

Not in the same flirty way as Vax or Scanlan, nor in the subtle way as Vex

Pike was just a very loving woman. Physical affection (including hugs) were just commonplace to her

Which is why she was a little stunned when you told her that you weren’t too fond of physical touch

It was hard for her, at first, because she had to find new ways to express all the love that she had for you, but your comfort came before everything

She always asked before initiating anything and you were always so thankful for that

One day, you came back to find Pike kneeling in the garden, mumbling under her breath

You assumed she was praying (for what, you weren’t sure) but you really needed her

Today had been hell and Pike had always known how to make you feel better

Sitting behind her, you gently rested your head on her shoulder

She tensed, knowing it was you, but confused by the display of touch

Still, she didn’t saying anything

‘Pike…’

She knew with that one call of her name what you needed

‘Do you want me to hug you?’

A small nod was all it took for Pike to spin around and gather you in her arms

Her hugs were like sunshine embodied

You felt all your stress and tension slip away as she held you close

Maybe she was a God herself, with the way she made you feel so safe in her embrace

#critical role #critical role imagine #critical role x reader #critical role c1 #critical role campaign 1 #tlovm #tlovm x reader #vax'ildan #vax x reader #vax'ildan x reader #grog strongjaw #grog x reader #grog strongjaw x reader #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #percy de rolo x reader #percy x reader #scanlan x reader #scanlan shorthalt #keyleth #keyleth x reader #vex'ahlia #vex'ahlia x reader #vex x reader #pike trickfoot #pike x reader #vox machina #vox machina x reader

[hearvex]

can i ask for this Juan guy lore :v i saw his tweet when it had like 3k and thought it cant be good but i dont know anything about him. its upsetting to see 12k likes tho like why are people fighting against human fights tho

oh this is a long one, who's Juan Guarnizo, the streamer who has recently tweeted against the french union in regards of the qsmp.

juan guarnizo is a colombian streamer (who now lives in mexico with his wife). he's participated in Tortillaland, a roleplaying minecraft series, as a wizard of sorts. He then decided to create a "spin-off" series (more cinematic/pre-planned) called "El Dios de Todo" (The God of Everything, his character's catchphrase). So he partnered with Euphonia, a popular Minecraft Studio that has created games such as SquidCraft, Dedsafio, SawMinecraftGames, and more.

He announced he was looking for several roleplayers for this project, and people started complaining on twitter because some of the requirements were pretty much insane.

Some include, full availability for 6 hours a day everyday for an entire month, good quality microphone, not being able to livestream the content, just record it to be used after the proyect was released, knowing how to rhyme/rap/sing/imitate voices and animals/general voice acting talent and being able to improv. All of that for the price of 0$. The payment? The enriching experience of being part of this unpayed proyect with your favorite content creator.

Well turns out people still didn't like this idea, justifiably so, and continued to call him out on twitter. His initial response was as follows:

(Hello, I understand that you know little about the project so I'll explain it to you: The God of Everything is a series based on a story that we will tell in the most cinematic way possible, therefore it is only possible to have one pov and not 40. Participants will be able to take advantage of the series on different social media platforms but not live. How much benefit they decide to get out of it is up to each person. The 6 hours a day thing is insurance, because there will most likely be days where your participation is half an hour and that's it. Also making it clear that professionals such as voice actors who will also be in the series will be paid for their work. We are creating an experience never seen before for me, the roleplayers and the audience, whoever wants and can experience it will enjoy it very much. It is something that we are putting all our heart and desire into for those who want to see the story. Communities that are not going to see it at all, at least don't fill it with your toxicity or bad vibes.)

Basically excusing himself by "I'm doing good by allowing you to join, please don't let toxicity ruin this". Which was still off, because professional voice actors would be getting payed but somehow the rest wouldn't, weird overall. Several POVs would be recorded but only one would be able to broadcast it, Juan. "we'll pay you with exposure" ahh deal

I haven't followed him since this happened, some claim he then did pay the actors, but even if that were the case, that would've never happened if it weren't for people calling out his exploitative bs. Which is exactly what's happened with the qsmp, only this time it's not a cancellation on twitter dot com, but a whole entire french union.

What I think their fans don't understand is that this is not a mob campaign against their faves, it's about protecting the working class from the privileged who refuse to pay them correctly or sometimes never at all, granting them rights to defend themselves when cases like these arise. This goes for people who claim Juan learned from his mistake, he clearly didn't if his immediate reaction to the union was:

(It's good that they formed a union, so they all hold hands together and fuck off)

So either he's forgotten his "lesson", or he only payed them (if that even happened) because he got caught and wanted to prevent a future cancelation).

#h ache #ask h #long ass explanation #hope this adds context!