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pulverulents · 1 year

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#30: on alternate universes and quarter-life crises

It’s crazy to think that the last time I did this, I hadn’t graduated from uni yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to journal since then, it’s just that I didn’t really have any headspace for any kind of non-academic writing or proper introspection until... now, I guess? Even now, after so long of not really putting my thoughts into proper full sentences, it’s kind of hard to write in a way that isn’t in a scientific capacity.

There’s been a lot of thoughts running through my head lately, though. And as always, I’m not sure where to start. But nobody reads these things except me anyway, so I guess it doesn’t really matter whether or not there’s any semblance of flow or logic to this.

I’m glad the pandemic is pretty much over. Not that the virus has disappeared, but the world seems to have more or less returned to normal now. Which is great, because it would really suck to have to graduate into the job market of 2 years ago. I’m glad that I have a job that I like, and another job on the horizon that I’m excited about too. Most days whenever I think about it I can still barely believe that I somehow applied for 1 job and ended up being offered 2 (well, actually 3 if you count the freelance retainer offer thingy). And I’m glad that at least for now, I still have the time and bandwidth to continue with aca with The Lower Loungers.

I’ve recently started getting a glimpse of the wider aca community in Singapore, though, and... honestly, a lot of people in it give me the ick. And like, in a MAJOR way. Maybe I’m the one at fault for vacillating violently between “oh shit I’m actually pretty good at this” and “holy shit I suck at this”, but my impression is that a lot of them have overinflated egos and will take any and every opportunity to show off, or will hype their “friends” up without really meaning it even though something their “friends” are doing may be objectively not-good. But I’m glad that in The Lower Loungers, I’ve surrounded myself with people who I can trust to be honest with themselves and with me, and who are driven by passion and not ego. Which seems (at least, to me) to be fairly rare in this industry. I’ve always had a theory that to be a good musician, you need a healthy balance of narcissism and self-loathing, and I guess as someone who more often than not sits on the self-loathing end, it really irks me when the balance is tipped towards the other end. Or maybe I’m just jealous of their confidence. I don’t know. I should probably be unpacking all of this in therapy, but I have neither the time nor the money for it right now.

I feel like I’ve been trying to be own therapist for a long time now, though. It’s always been a coping mechanism of sorts for me to intellectualise my feelings and pick them apart from the outside, so the next time I feel the same way maybe it won’t hurt as much. Does it work? Hell if I know. It doesn’t really make things easier in the moment, that’s for sure. But it’s definitely more convenient to just force myself to swallow it and then pick away at it later when it’s half-digested, rather than sit in it in all its fullness and dissolve into an emotional mess. I’m starting to realise that maybe this coping mechanism isn’t always the most healthy way to approach things. Sometimes I can move on by compartmentalising it and opening it up later when I’m in a more stable headspace. Other times it just feels like I’m always running away from myself. Maybe sometimes I just need to let myself sit in the emotion and fully feel through it.

My sister mentioned something recently about “healing your inner child”. I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never really felt the need to really dwell on it, I suppose. But maybe that’s because I don’t want to think about myself as a child. I want to leave her in the past, together with all the pain and hurt that she carries, whether or not she knows that she does. I don’t know how to look her in the face without shouldering all of her damage again. Running away again, I guess.

And maybe all this running away is what’s keeping me from emotionally availing myself for a relationship. I’m not ready to share my life so intimately with someone else, but I may never be. I don’t know. I don’t even really know how to identify, some days I don’t feel any need to label myself but other days it’s hard not to feel the pressure to do just that. It’s hard enough to admit to myself that I’m probably not straight, let alone commit to it by labelling it. Most days I get by by telling myself that I’d rather be happily alone with a bunch of cats than unhappily stuck in a loveless marriage. Still, it would be nice to have someone. I want to be able to say that I have someone. But that doesn’t mean that the prospect of opening up my deepest wounds to someone doesn’t still terrify me. And being openly not-straight also terrifies me. Immensely so. Maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult if I wasn’t such a late bloomer with love and sexuality.

To be honest, lately I can’t help but feel that I’m a late bloomer in... pretty much all of my interests apart from the one that I’m currently making a career out of. I’d like to think that in another life, I got singing lessons instead of keeping with piano, kept with choir instead of pin-balling between all the other performing arts, and would be more competent and more connected with the aca community now. Or maybe in another life, I’d have the guts to post covers online of me and my guitar, or I’d been allowed to bring my guitar to hall, and maybe I’d have gotten into Unplugged and would be a part of some band now. In yet another life, I’d like to think that I discovered musical theatre earlier and went to Lasalle or even somewhere in America to get a BFA in musical theatre and try to make it on Broadway, or honestly, I would even be content with regional theatre. In another life, I’d like to think that I stuck with softball through secondary school and JC, and would still be strong enough and athletic enough to continue playing it now. In another life, maybe I would’ve let my Taylor Swift edit-making skills turn into a passion for graphic design. In another life, maybe I would have pushed through being really bad at math and actually have become an engineer like Mr Lim Lee said I should. Or maybe in another life, I’d have gone overseas for uni and and have embarked on a myriad of academic or non-academic ventures that I can’t do here in Singapore. Maybe it would be easier there to figure out who I am.

I’m not saying that I’d rather live these alternate lives over this one. Or am I? I don’t know. No, most days I really do believe that I am where I’m meant to be, and even though at several points long the way I thought I was being derailed, they resulted in valuable experiences that shaped me into who I am. Even if I still don’t really know who I am. They were chapters of my life that served a purpose for where I was in life at the time, and once it was over it was time to move on to the next chapter and leave it behind, no matter how much I enjoyed it. It doesn’t stop me from missing those chapters and from mourning what could’ve been if certain things hadn’t happened or if I had actually been as competent as I would have liked to be, but it is what it is, I guess. Actually, on that note - do I really even want to live those alternate lives? Or do I just resent that I’m not competent enough to really live them out? Were / are they ever truly passions of mine or is it just that I can’t stand not being good enough at something that I even mildly enjoy? Is it that I would rather be a spectacular failure than put in the effort to strive for excellence and then fall short into mediocrity? Damn, I really should be unpacking all of this in therapy.

But I do think I’ve more or less made peace with the fact that I’m where I am for a reason. It doesn’t stop me from daydreaming about what could’ve been in another life, though I’ll never admit that to anyone.

It also doesn’t stop me from worrying endlessly about the future. I know, sounds like nothing has changed. I guess my life has always been marked by endless anxiety that surrounds me and everything I do like a tornado of static. And part of me doesn’t know where the static ends and I begin. But that’s nothing new, I suppose. For now, I’m just taking things one day at a time, one chapter at a time. Because it’s senseless to worry about someday not being ok when I am ok right now.

Ok. Breathe.

-jo

#journal #entry 30

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countstwins29006 · 2 years

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Let’s face it: There’s a pretty big stigma that comes with turning the big 3-0. As someone who has lived through it (I happen to be 31) and seen my friends hit that milestone birthday too, I can safely say that one of the most common reactions to turning 30 is fear. Terrifying, all-consuming, keep-you-up-at-night fear. You’re no longer a carefree 20-something, and for some reason it feels like when you reach 30 years old you’re automatically supposed to turn into a responsible adult who has every little thing figured out.

Well, I’m here to tell you a few things about turning 30. First of all, there is nothing to be scared of. I know that everyone is different, but the last year and a half have been some of the best of my life. I won’t say I wasn’t a little nervous about turning 30… I had the same worries that every other 29-year-old has. What if I don’t have my life figured out? What if I don’t have as much money as I thought I would have at 30? Am I now too old to have one too many cocktails and stay up until the sun comes up?

To me, it seems that because you’ve lived through those transformative 20’s, once you hit 30, life is pretty wonderful. You’re more confident, you’ve learned important lessons, you have your true friends by your side, and you still have a ton of time ahead of you. Now I know that not all of you are nearing your 30’s, but for those of you who are (and for those of you who want to be prepared), I’ve put together a list of 10 things that every woman in her 30’s should know. And to be honest, I wish I knew all of these things when I was in my 20’s (and even when I was a teenager). Take a look…

There’s Plenty of Time. Don’t panic. You still have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with your life. Lots of people think that by 30, you are supposed to have it all figured out. I disagree. You have so much time to figure out if your career is right for you. Or if your significant other is the one you want to walk down the aisle with. Or even if you want to have some babies with that person.

It’s Not All About The Money. I wish that when I was in my 20’s I knew that my happiness and friendships and love (all of those things that make life great) are more important than the number on your paycheck. Now that doesn’t mean you can’t be very happy in your job while making a great living. But, if you’re miserable at work (which usually translates to being a little bit miserable in life) but are justifying it because of some sort of prestigious title or exorbitant salary, I would recommend reevaluating. And maybe even making a change.

Relationships Are Everything. The people you love are the most important things in your life. Work is important, and so is your relationship with yourself, but as human beings we need other people. And it can be easy to isolate, especially when things gets hectic or times are tough. But the relationships that you have with others can help get you through anything. So keep up those friendships, call your parents, and tell your besties how much you love them regularly. They are the ones that will help you through the bad times, and party with you when there’s something to celebrate.

This Too Shall Pass. This is a mantra that I say to myself on a daily basis. And it’s not just when I’m going through something difficult. A good friend taught me that this saying not only helps you through the hard times, but also makes you appreciate when things are really, really good. Because knowing that something amazing is going to be over makes you appreciate that happy moment even more.

All You Have to Do Is Ask. Sometimes it’s really that You want a raise? You want to know where your relationship is going? You’re curious as to how many calories are in those glass noodles? Often times, if you simply ask for what you want, you’ll get it. And if you don’t, at least you’ll have some clarity into the situation. For more on this, read my post about asking for what you want.

Give Back. It will make your life better. And it will make other people’s lives better. Being of service to someone in need is probably the most important thing that all of us can do. You never know when you’re going to be that person in need. And selfishly, it makes you feel good. There is nothing more rewarding than lending a helping hand. If you’re looking for ways to give back, check out this blog post for some ideas.

Stop Comparing. This is a tough one to follow, but it’s important for all of us to stop comparing ourselves to others. I saw a quote on Pinterest the other day that said, “Don’t compare your beginning to someone else’s middle”, and it stuck with me. Everyone is on a different timeline. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses. Everyone wishes they had something that someone else has. Comparing yourself to others is a vicious, never-ending cycle. So stop wishing you had someone else’s hair or job or boyfriend, and start loving all of the amazing things that you do have.

Be Kind. It’s much more important than being right, or having the last word. What’s the point in proving to someone that you know the answers when it’s going to cause a riff between you? Why not just be kind and humble, instead of insisting that you’re right? Trust me on this one: It feels much better to be close with someone than to prove them wrong.

Balance Your Budget. By the time you hit 30, it’s important to know how to manage your money. Working with a great accountant definitely helps, but there’s a lot you can do on your own, too. Build up your credit, start a 401k or IRA account, and check your balances on a regular basis. To get some tips, read our Smart Girl’s Guide to Money Management and also our blog about How to Stick With Your Budget

You are loved. This one isn’t necessarily only for those 30-somethings. It’s for every single person out there. You are loved and I hope you know it!

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

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Teach Me, Tease Me [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

A/N - this is for my Training Square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo at least it is if you squint hard enough. CM Bingo Masterlist can be found here.

Really had an itch that needed to be scratched here in the form of Professor Spencer and a TA in training the reader. Just utter, utter filth. AKA - You are nervous enough for your first day of teaching training, and when you meet your new mentor, the incredibly attractive Doctor Reid, it only makes the situation more tense.

Masterlist for all fics can be found here.

CW - Age gap (Spencer’s late 30’s and reader is early/mid 20’s) dom! Spencer/ sub! Reader, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), female/male masturbation (mildly) some degradation, swearing.

WC: 3.5K

Smoothing down your skirt and taking a few deep breaths in the hopes to calm your rattled nerves, you knocked on the door.

Dr Spencer Reid’s reputation preceded him. Not only was he supposed to be an incredible lecturer in criminal psychology but he had fifteen years on the job experience with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. To learn from such a legend in his field was a dream come true to you.

Getting accepted in a TA role at Georgetown had been an incredible achievement in itself but to be Spencer Reid’s TA, to be trained by this great man left you a bag of nerves.

Your hands were shaking as you smoothed down your skirt again. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and then quickly untucked it again just as the door opened.

You were met with a pair of intense hazel eyes. They belonged to a tall, slim man with messy hair as though he’d just gotten out of bed and the most sinful pair of lips you had ever laid eyes on.

You swallowed, trying to push down your attraction.

“Uhm...I’m sorry I just have the wrong office. I’m looking for Dr Reid.” You went to turn to leave because this man was far too attractive and you would no doubt end up making a fool of yourself but his voice caught you.

“You’re in the right place. I’m Dr Reid.”

You tried to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. You had pictured Dr Reid to be a man much older than the one in front of you, either greying or balding and on the heavier side.

The Dr Reid in front of you was drop dead gorgeous. This had to be some kind of joke? How were you possibly supposed to learn when you were just getting lost in his eyes?

“You’re...you…” you stuttered, not being able to form words.

He laughed and it was such a magnificent sound you wanted to hear it every day for the rest of your life.

“You must be Y/N? My new TA?” His smile made your knees buckle and you hoped he didn't notice.

His eyes glanced up and down your body and butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Your skirt suddenly felt too short and your shirt too tight.

“Mmm hmm.” You mumbled, worrying if you spoke your voice would come out a high pitched squeak.

He chuckled again and stepped back, creating a space for you to enter.

“Please come in.” He motioned for you to step inside his office. You slowly stepped inside, your legs shaking.

This was the first step towards your dream job of lecturing at Georgetown and it was terrifying enough without your new mentor being the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

“Take a seat.” Spencer smiled at you as he stepped behind his desk, taking his own seat.

You chewed your lip as you made your way to the chair. His eyes never left you. You felt his eyes dance over your bare legs and up your thighs. Your palms were sweating under his intense gaze.

You were thankful to sit down as you couldn’t be confident in your legs ability to hold you up right.

“I’m very pleased to be here Dr Reid.” You croaked, feeling like you needed to say something, anything.

Spencer leant his elbows on the desk, smiling across at you.

“Please, call me Spencer.”

“O-ok.”

“Are you ok?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You seem...nervous.”

You were more than nervous. You were turned on. The way he was looking at you and the way he periodically licked his bottom lip was driving you crazy.

“This is a big...opportunity for me.” Your words were punctuated with deep breaths and you knew Spencer noticed it.

“As long as you're sure that’s all?”

“Yes, it is.” You lied.

“Ok good.” He smirked at you. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He wasn’t a big headed man, but he knew attraction when he saw it.

He saw the way your chest heaved as you breathed, heavier even when he licked his lip. He saw the way your hands couldn’t stay still and the way you pressed your thighs together every now and again.

He could hear it in your shaky words and staggered breathing.

And honestly, Spencer loved it.

He didn’t think he’d ever had this effect on a woman before and it was enough to make him aroused. He already knew he wanted you, needed you. It was wrong, you were his TA, but the illicit nature of it made it hotter to him.

“So,” he sat back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Tell me about yourself Y/N.” He licked his lip again and watched your thighs press together once more.

He wanted to put his head between those thighs.

“Uhm...I’m not sure where to begin.” You breathing was heavy, breast heaving.

He wanted those breasts in his mouth, he wanted to take your nippes between his lips and suck on them.

You spoke but he didn’t hear your words. His head was entirely elsewhere. He had to think of a way to make you his. And he would. He was sure of it.

He wouldn’t rest until he had you.

***

The next week you dressed more conservatively for work. Strictly pants and thick jackets. But it didn’t stop Dr Reid’s wandering eyes.

After the first few days you felt less nervous around him and actually you found yourself loving the effect you had on him. Today during a lecture he had dropped a pen on the floor and you’d picked it up for him, making sure to give him an eyeful of your backside.

He’d stumbled over his words for a few minutes after that and you were left with an odd sense of pride.

After the first few weeks you started dressing less conservatively. Your pencil skirts came back out of hiding and sometimes you left an extra button on your shirt undone.

Despite the obvious tension between the two of you, you were learning a lot from Dr Reid. He was incredibly smart and a wonderful lecturer. You found yourself hanging off his every word when he lectured and you could tell his students felt the same.

After a month of working with him, you were starting to get more friendly with one another. You would spend your free time on campus getting coffee and walking the grounds together while he told you stories of his time with the BAU.

You were able to relax around him, make jokes and playful conversation. But there was still that underlying sexual tension that drove you both wild.

That night Spencer had papers to grade and you offered to stay and help.

You popped out to the campus coffee shop for some pick me ups and when you returned to his office his jacket was slung over the back of his chair, his tie undone and draped around his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone.

It was such a sight you almost dropped the coffees but managed to steady yourself in time.

“Ah my saviour.” He smiled up at you from a stack of papers. “Bring the chair around here, we can read together and you can tell me what you think.”

Nervously you pulled the chair around next to him but not too close. Spencer laughed.

“I don’t bite.” He smirked at you. Unless you want me to.

You laughed nervously and shuffled a little closer. You picked up the paper on top of the stack and started reading over it.

Spencer’s eyes were on you the whole time and it made your concentration wane. His gaze was intense and focused on your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together.

“You do that a lot.” His voice was low and breathy.

You looked at him like a deer in headlights.

“Do what?” You croaked.

His eyes were trained on your lips and you had never wanted someone to kiss you more in your entire life.

“Squeeze your thighs together.” He leaned closer to you and you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Is it because of me?”

“Spencer,” you whispered looking down into your lap.

“I know, I know.” He sighed. “You're my TA. I’m a lot older than you.”

“You’re not that much older than me.” You looked back up and your eyes met his. He was chewing his lip.

“It’s wrong that I feel this way.” He swallowed. “But goddamnit Y/N, ever since you walked into my office I can’t stop thinking about you and all the things I want to do to you. But it’s wrong. But gosh that makes it so hot.”

A surge of confidence came over you and you pushed your chest forward, leaning even closer to him.

“So what are you going to do about it, Doctor Reid?”

He hissed at your use of his honorific.

“You are a tease, do you know that?” He growled. “A filthy fucking tease.”

“Maybe you should do something about it then.”

Spencer couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d shown a hell of a lot of restraint this past month but he couldn’t do it anymore.

He grasped your face and closed the small space between you. Your lips finally met with blinding passion. You moaned at the sensation you’d been dreaming of for weeks. Spencer took advantage of this and his tongue thrust into your mouth.

He pulled you into his lap and you straddled him as he deepened the kiss. You let him control you, you’d let him do anything to you, you were sure of it.

His hands left your face and trailed down your sides before rounding your back. His fingers pushed your skirt up and then his large hands cupped your ass, squeezing tight.

You moaned again, your hands diving inside his shirt to feel the hot skin of his chest. You started toying with his shirt buttons but Spencer broke the kiss and glared at you.

“Nuh uh.” He shook his head. “You lost your privilege to do what you want when you insisted on teasing me in class. You’ll do what I say, and only what I say. Understood?”

Oh god that was hot, you felt weak.

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Doctor Reid.”

“That’s better.” He smirked. “Now get up.”

You nodded, slipping off his lap and standing in front of him.

Spencer stood from his chair, towering over you.

“Bend over the desk.”

You swallowed, nodding stiffly. You turned around and leant over the desk, your palms flat on the wood, sticking your ass up as high as you could.

Another hiss left Spencer’s lips. You felt him move close to you and press his body into yours. You could feel his hard dick in his pants pushing against your rear.

“You want that Y/N? Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You croaked. “Yes please Doctor Reid.”

He laughed, his breath hitting your neck.

“Well you’re going to have to wait.”

You felt his hands on the backs of your thighs and his fingertips traced over your skin. He hoisted your skirt up again and hissed once more.

“Black lace panties, really Y/N?” He ran his fingers over the fabric. “This is underwear that is begging to be seen.”

“Yes Doctor.”

“Who did you wear these for?”

“You Doctor Reid, only you.”

“Damn right.” He slapped his palm on your ass cheek, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room.

He leant into you again, his hands now on your stomach, making their way to your breasts.

He cupped your breasts through your shirt, palming them and applying pressure.

“Perfect.” He groaned into your ear. “Just fucking perfect.”

Suddenly he stood back again and you felt empty without his touch. For a few seconds the room was silent and you didn’t know what to expect.

“Turn around.” He spoke again suddenly, startling you a little.

You did as you were told, loving the way he was domineering you this way.

His eyes trailed up and down your body, lingering on your chest.

“Undo your shirt.” He growled at you. “I want to see you. That’s what you want isn’t it? My eyes all over your body. That’s why you dress this way you fucking tease.”

His words made you so wet. He was usually so nice and so soft spoken so seeing this side of him was making your toes curl.

Once again, you did as you were told and started unbuttoning your shirt. You made sure to tackle the buttons slowly, really give Spencer a show. Once all the buttons were undone you shrugged your shirt off your shoulders.

Spencer took in the view of your breasts clad in a bra that matched your panties. He was chewing his lip so hard he could taste his own blood.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He hissed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you want Doctor Reid.”

“On your knees.” He instructed and you smirked to yourself, liking where this was heading.

You got down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want, Doctor?” You pouted, licking your lips.

He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his slacks. The zipper slid down soon after and he pulled his dick free of the confines of pants and underwear.

His was painfully hard, practically throbbing. He was big but you knew you could take him.

You bowed your head and let your tongue lap over his swollen head making him groan in an animalistic fashion.

“Is this what you want Doctor?” You breathed, making sure your breath hit his cock.

“You fucking know it is.” He growled. “Take me. Take all of me.”

You smirked up at him, knowing just the thought of his dick in your mouth was breaking down his tough facade.

You took his command and wrapped your lips around his head before quickly moving down his shaft.

He felt his dick hit the back of your throat and his hand flew to your hair, tugging hard.

“Fucking hell.” His head fell back and his eyes closed.

You smirked around his shaft as you started moving. You bobbed your head up and down his length but before long, Spencer started thrusting, practically fucking your mouth. And it was so hot.

He tugged your hair harder and harder as he thrust in and out of your warm, wet mouth. He forced his eyes open so he could watch his cock disappear in and out of your mouth.

“Touch yourself.” He grunted. You could taste his pre-come leaking from his head. “Now.”

You pulled your skirt up with one hand and moved your panties aside. Your finger danced on your wet clit, making you moan around Spencer.

His eyes flicked between your mouth bobbing up and down around him and to your hand between your legs.

It was almost too much for him but he wasn’t ready for this to be over. He startled you when he pulled back, removing his dick from your mouth.

You stared up at him, your hand at a standstill on your core. You wanted to await Spencer’s instructions.

“Are you wet?”

“So wet.”

“Good.” He wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you up to your feet. He took your fingers in his mouth and moaned at the taste of you on his tongue.

“God you taste so fucking good.” Quickly he reached behind you and swiped his hands across the desk sending the paperwork flying. He took you by your shoulders and guided you back until your ass collided with the desk.

He pushed you back so you were laying down and practically tore your skirt and panties off leaving you in just your bra and heels. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them over his shoulders before he thrust into you with all his might.

You both moaned loudly as he filled you up. You were so tight and wet around him he almost blew his load then and there.

He started his thrusts, hard and fast and frantic. With your legs on his shoulders the angle he was hitting you at was phenomenal. You arched your back and closed your eyes.

“Look at me.” He spat making your eyes shoot back open in an instant.

He smirked, he loved how he had you wrapped around his little finger so easily.

“Take off your bra.” He was panting now as he spoke, feeling dangerously close to the edge. He tried to steady himself, he wasn’t ready for this to be over just yet.

You arched your back some more and reached your hand behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. It took longer than usual as Spencer was pounding into you, slamming you against the desk.

When it was unhooked you slid it off your arms and discarded it on the floor.

Spencer chewed his lip and hissed, taking you all in.

“Fucking hell.” He groaned. He let your legs slide from his shoulders to his waist so he could move closer to you.

He bowed his head and wasted no time in taking your hard nipple in his mouth. He’d imagined sucking your tits countless times but nothing compared to the real thing.

He continued thrusting while using his teeth to really work you up. His fingers played deftly with your other nipple.

You were a complete mess beneath him, completely succumbed to him and his will.

You moaned when his lips left your nipple but they stayed on your skin, sucking on the swell of breast. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to remember this for days to come.

He sucked a mark on your other breast and then moved to your neglected nipple. He was so close he knew he couldn’t last much longer and judging by your stifled moans you were close too.

He stood back up right so he could thrust deeper inside you.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You fucking…tease.” His words were punctuated with moans. “Touch yourself. Touch that pretty little clit for me.”

You were compliant and slid your hand down your body between your legs.

Spencer’s thrusts were becoming sloppy as you watched your fingers dance over your heat. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Between your fingers and Spencer’s dick hitting you in places you’d never experienced before, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Doctor,” you groaned. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna…”

“Come you fucking dirty tease. Come all over my dick.”

Your orgasm washed over you and moaned incoherently. You tightened around Spencer as you came and it pushed him to his own orgasm.

He moaned your name as he filled you up, lazily still thrusting. His face was flushed and slick with a sheen of sweat.

He rode out his orgasm inside you and then he pulled out. He gently took hold of your wrists and sat you up on the edge of the desk.

He cupped your face delicately, so far from the man he’d been mere seconds before.

“Are you ok Y/N?” His eyes were riddled with concern as he looked at you.

“I’m more than ok.” You smiled at him.

He kissed you softly but it was only brief before he pulled himself away from you.

“Good. Now be a good TA and clear up this mess.” He gestured to the papers now scattered all over the floor.

You nodded and went to reach for your discarded clothes.

“I didn’t say anything about getting dressed.” He smirked as he sat back in his chair, now soft dick still hanging out of his pants.

You did as you were told and dressed only in your heels you started bending down to clear up the papers, making sure to put on a show of it.

You could feel his heavy gaze on you and it didn’t take long for his dick to start hardening again at the sight of your bare ass as you bent over.

“Such a tease.” He growled, his hand finding his shaft. You looked back at him as he started slowly pumping himself. “You’re a slut aren’t you Y/N? A filthy slut.”

You felt a sense of pride over what you were able to do to this gorgeous man. Teaching training was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

“Only for you Doctor Reid.” You smirked. “Only for you.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #cmbingo21 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #professor reid #filth #smut #so much smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you

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scented-morker · 3 years

Text

⇢˚⋆ ✎ first "I love you's" with en-maknae line

*:･ﾟ✧ genre : fluff

*:･ﾟ✧ description : established relationship, bf!enhypen, gn!reader, first time saying I love you headcanons :D

*:･ﾟ✧ here it is!!! this is- pretty long, just a heads up 🤪

┈─ ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ─┈

ଘ Sunoo ~ˊˎ-

He was having a hard time lately with all of the stress from the comeback and everything

He tried to hide it from you but obviously you noticed, like you were on FaceTime and he wasn’t even showing his face 😞

So obviously you were like 🤨 “Where did my sunshine baby go?”

Which actually made him show his face it was red asf

So when he hung up you were like k time to cheer up the love of my life

Which is exactly what you said in your brain and then had a nervous breakdown because ??the love of your life??

But you decided to push that away for now so you could get everything you needed together

You texted the boys and told them you were going to come over

They had noticed his change and thought it would be a good idea so they agreed, and some of them left while others promised to stay in their rooms

When you knock on the door the next day you hear “Sunoo can you get that?” from somewhere in the house and you know they’re doing their jobs

Sunoo wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he opened the door, maybe a manager or a crazy fan, but it wasn’t his s/o with a bag on their shoulders and holding a little bouquet of flowers

“Y/n!!” He immediately engulfed you in a hug, and you smile at his excitement, you definitely made the right plan

He pulls away, asking a “why are you here” to which you shove the flowers at him

“These are for you, um I hope you like them”

Your words came out kinda squished, most people don’t get their boyfriends flowers but you thought it was a really good idea, except now that you’re in front of him you feel kinda dumb, what if he doesn’t like them

“Thank you!! I love them!”

His eyes are sparkling and he tells you that he’s never been given a bouquet of flowers like this and that he’s so happy you got him some

And with your renewed confidence you tell him the rest of what you have planned, a self care day with movies and snacks and skin care and cuddling, lots of cuddling

And he just !!!

He gets so excited 🥺

Like “okay let’s start right now” and then picks you up and goes running the the couch, and you’re laughing almost directly in his ear and he can’t get any happier

So you spend all day together, just messing around and doing whatever

And then he falls asleep, right on the couch on your lap which like 🥰

He looks so peaceful and calm you can’t resist, so you stop playing with his hair like you were originally and lay your hand on his face, tracing his cute lil nose and all that

You start talking to him, quiet so you don’t ruin the mood or wake him up and you’re just like spilling your heart to this dude while he’s asleep, er, “asleep”

Like straight up “I was so worried about you, you were just acting different and I really hope you’re taking care of yourself like you should. My brain knew I had to do something, it specifically said ‘time to cheer up the love of my life’, which was also scary because love is scary you know”

He’s just laying there, eyes closed, trying not to lose his mind and just tackle you in a hug and kiss all over your face, but you don’t seem to be done talking yet so he waits

“But I love you, I really do. And I think that makes it not so scary, because it’s you”

He opens his eyes and at first you don’t even notice because you’re looking off into space but he kinda shifts in your lap and you just 😳

“I love you too, like a lot and it took everything in me not to cut you off and just attack you with my love”

“Well I’m done talking now so you wouldn’t be cutting me off”

And he does exactly what he was planning, tackling you in his arms on the couch, laying there with you while giving you sweet lil kisses and whispering about how much he loves you

He’s definitely back to himself

ଘ Jungwon ~ˊˎ-

Now our dear leader is a lil shy, which we all love him for, but that meant y’all had been dating for like a year almost

An ‘I love you’-less year

And you were a little worried like ‘is this not a serious relationship to him’ but you kinda brushed it off because you’re pretty young and you would never want to rush him

And then it became very obvious that he was serious when he freaking INVITED YOU TO A FAMILY VACATION

Not like a board the plane were going to Hawaii for a month vacation, a thankfully more chill like family camping in log cabins together for a weekend vacation

And obviously you were terrified because ya know meeting the ‘rents (I am so sorry why did I say it like that)

But you weren’t gonna say no to your boyfriend especially when he was so excited

So flash forward to you and jungwon, fresh off of a 3 hour car ride (where you obvi played 10 months like 80,000 times), walking up to a cute little campground with like three big log cabins next to each other, real cute

And you walk into the main one where everyone is meeting and his family is like SCREAMING like absolute chaos and there are little cousins running around and everything

And for some reason it feel comfortable and one of his little cousins comes up to you and asks you to play obviously you do

By the time his family realizes he’s here and greets him you’re surrounded by children

Cue his older cousins like “I knew they were fake” “you don’t have to lie wonnie, it’s okay to be single”

But then he points over to the living room and you’ve got a little kid on your back and another on your lap and someone has used their play makeup to give you blue eyeshadow

You give him a really big smile when you see him looking over and literally everyone just 🥺🥺🥺

He thinks you’ve never been more perfect even tho you literally end up with a glitter mustache

Eventually his aunts make their kids leave you alone and you help them wash up to eat (as almost scream when you see your reflection because their first impression of you was of you looking like a whacko)

But then you sit down at the table where he’s saved you a spot and they’re all so excited to meet you and ask you all sorts of questions

You’re holding his hand under the table because you’re nervous but then he’s got your hands in his lap fiddling with your fingers and you aren’t nervous anymore

Literally every single person in his family gives you a hug before you guys go to the cabin you’re sleeping in and you ask him ya know like

“Do you think they like me”

And he’s like ??? They literally like you more than me and my cousins tried to fight me to the death for a seat next to you at the table

But he just goes “they love you just as much as I do”

And you just combust

“You love me???”

And it wasn’t even an accident, he was just like “yup, like a lot”

Then bam “I love you too”

And they lived happily ever after more like his aunts overheard and screamed to the rest of the family what just happened

ଘ Niki ~ˊˎ-

Niki had begged you all week to come over and visit and you finally found a day that you were both free on

You knocked quietly, announcing your presence before letting yourself in like the boys had told you to do

Once you had set your things down and taken your shoes off you set out on a mission to find your lovely boyfriend

Which really didn’t take long because you could hear him screaming in the living room as soon as you walked in

Apparently he was losing at whatever video game they were playing and was not happy about it

You went over to his spot on the couch, squeezing in next to him and he gave you a lil side hug and a kiss on the temple to say hello

You settled down in your spot, leaning on him with his arm still around your shoulder as the next round started

Although it was a bad idea because when he lost again you almost got elbowed in the head

After a few more rounds some of the boys decide to go out and get food even tho he definitely begged them to stay because he wanted to win at least once

“No bud, we’re hungry, and you kinda have a significant other you’ve been ignoring for like an hour” thanks heeseung

So they leave (except for jake who got stuck on babysitting duty)

And you’re like well he seems to like this game even tho he sucks at it so might as well play it if that’s what he wants to do

So you’re all like “hey bub what if I play with you” and he’s already shoving the controller in your hand and explaining how it works

He loves that you try to take an interest in the things that he likes, and he also likes that you’ve never played it before because that’ll make it easy to beat you

Which it definitely was, sorry you kinda suck at this game (even more than your boyfriend)

“Yes!! I did it!!! I won!!”

Cue the trash talk because he’s a little devil spawn sometimes

“See that I woooooon, you didn’t even stand a chance against me, I’m a master at this game”

And you’re just sitting there like you hadn’t seen him get absolutely demolished by everyone else literally like 30 minutes ago, just shaking your head

“Ya know you’re lucky I love you or I would have smacked you by now”

You laugh when you say it and he joins in before going dead silent after like 3 seconds

“Wait you what?”

“I said you’re luck I lo-”

And then you go quiet too bc dang did you really just say that and now you’re all nervous

But then he just goes

“Yeah I kinda love you too”

And then he makes sure to spend some actual time with you, not just beating you in video games for the rest of the day

“WAIT ‘KINDA’???”

┈─ ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ─┈

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunoo #sunoo scenarios #enhypen jungwon #jungwon scenarios #enhypen niki #niki scenarios #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff

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cunningambitousdetermined · 3 years

Text

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna:

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :)

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can. hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story:

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers.

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway.

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes.

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain. Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls.

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out.

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?”

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost.

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped.

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye.

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade.

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence.

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her.

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her”

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder.

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.”

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?”

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess.

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway.

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate.

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time.

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion.

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door.

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her.

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat.

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love.

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple.

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

#natasha romanoff x reader #wlw fanfic #marvel #avengers x reader #tony x platonic!reader #steve x platonic!natasha #pining #fluff #hint of angst #marvel fanfic #my writing

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago.

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that.

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go.

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

Y/N hated the summertime.

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom.

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready.

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!”

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying.

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up.

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel? I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N.

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her.

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand.

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected.

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in.

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek.

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

TAGLIST

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #smut

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azazelsconfessional · 3 years

Text

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

#ooc #((anyway i'm gonna open the askbox and crawl into a hole))#((i got nothing done lol i was so engaged with something else all week))

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hillbillyoracle · 4 years

Text

September Self Care Challenge

The last few months have been hell for me y'all and there's absolutely no sign of it letting up. The astrology for this year is pretty clear that it's only looking to get more intense between now and part way through next year so I'm trying to focus on ways I can better ride this wave out. I realized other people might appreciate these challenges that I've created for myself so I decided to share them with all of you. Please take what is useful and leave the rest. Try as much of it as you can or as you want. I will say it would probably help to use a journal throughout this process or a planner. Whichever works for you!

The Routines

Given the astro weather and what's going on in the world generally, now is a really good time to reexamine routines and solidify the helpful parts. I've been doing a lot of this lately and it's been really impactful.

So one part of this challenge involves creating both a morning and evening routine that has at least one of item of maintenance self care, kindness self care, and reflection self care. Expression self care too if you can manage it.

So for instance maybe your AM routine would be:

Brush teeth + get dressed (maintenance)

Morning pages, TMS journaling, or a tarot challenge (reflection)

Make a nice cup of tea and read or listen to something (kindness)

And maybe your PM routine would be:

Brush teeth + wash face (maintenance)

Write about what happened that day (reflection)

Put on a diffuser and read of listen to something (kindness)

Try to stick to it more days than you don't and that's already a win.

I also like to anchor my routines around 123 and 321. In the morning, I like to write down

1 way I can give back to someone

2 things I want to get done

3 things I'm thankful for.

In the evening, I like to write down

3 things I accomplished

2 ways to improve

1 thing I'm proud of or thankful for

These could count as reflection if need be. I just find them really handy for starting off and finishing a day on a good note.

The Content

I've been feeling bombarded by content that stresses me out lately. I can tell it's been taking a toll on my health. As a disabled person, I've had watch so many people, including family, suddenly decide COVID wasn't worth worrying about while I remain in the same lockdown as ever because I haven't stopped being high risk. It can be really overwhelming seeing how little folks care.

But I was recently introduced to the idea that instead of trying to scroll through the news less, it was more productive to focus on what I want to do more of instead. So I've cut back to reading a news roundup around midday and then focusing on completing the following challenge.

Read 5 new books

Watch 5 new films or documentaries

Listen to 5 new podcasts

Listen to 5 new albums

Create 5 new works

When I say new, I mean new to you. I've found that novelty helps keep my mind from wondering which is helpful in these times.

What work is is ultimately up to you. For me it will be mostly writing and embroidery this month. Maybe some knitting or crocheting. For you it could be creating a new art piece, learning a new song, taking and editing 5 new photos - whatever would really engage you in a meaningful way.

The Prompts

These are designed so that you can pull cards for these, journal through them, or both. So please do however many of these are actually helpful to you and then don't sweat the rest. I wanted to include a tarot challenge as a way to help take care of one of the reflection categories for the routines and prompts deeper thinking on the theme.

1 T - What's been getting in your way lately? How can you get it out of your way or adapt to it?

2 W - What spell work would improve your life? What do you need to perform it?

3 T - What have you been wanting to learn more about? Where could you start?

4 F - What's would make you feel more confident in your body? How could you do that?

5 S - What's your biggest limitation you're facing? What can you learn from it?

6 S - What talent could you share with others more? Where could you start?

7 M - What's been bothering you around the house lately? What would lessen it?

8 T - What way to move your body would bring joy? What do you need to start?

9 W - What friend or community have you not reached out to in a while? How can you?

10 T - What spiritual practice brings you peace? What would you need to do it more?

11 F - What small change would feel luxurious? How can you implement it in your life?

12 S - What structures do you need to set up? How would they benefit you?

13 S - What way could you brag on yourself a little? Who would be proud to hear about it?

14 M - What food would make you feel more cozy? What do you need to be able to make it?

15 T - What is the biggest drain on your energy? How can you lessen or get rid of it?

16 W - What really needs said? Who needs to hear it?

17 T - What could you give someone to cheer them up? Who should you give it to?

18 F - How could you spend more time with beauty? Where should you look?

19 S - What should you cut back on? How would it benefit you?

20 S - What would make you more sovereign? How can you implement it?

21 M - What intuition have you not been listening to? What does it say?

22 T - What's a better way to deal with anger? Where can you learn more?

23 W - What charm could use refreshed or recast? What needs to be different?

24 T - What opportunity is presenting itself? How can you take it?

25 F - What could you revel in more? How can you make it happen?

26 S - What needs to be gotten rid of? Where's the place to dispose of it?

27 S - What's the dark side of your ego? How can you manage it better?

28 M - What would make your home more calming? How can you bring that in?

29 T - How are you when you're aggressive? What's a better way to get what you want?

30 W - What connection needs extra energy? How can you add to it?

Conclusion

I hope this helps folks. I know it's been helping me since I started doing it and I thought it would be nice to make it more of a community wide thing. So do that parts that speak to you and leave the parts you don't. But please tag me in your reflections, use hashtag #SeptemberSelfCareChallenge, and share your experiences. We're all going through some rough shit these days. Let's take care of ourselves at least a little each day.

#witchblr #witch #tarot #tarot challenge #september tarot challenge #self care

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cowboyjen68 · 3 years

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Recently I’ve been debating getting top surgery. I know that some butches get top surgery and seem happy with the results but I’ve also met some who grew out of their discomfort with time. So I guess I’m debating if I should wait to see if maybe the discomfort around my chest will ease with age or if I should look into getting top surgery. The ones I’ve talked to also had this discomfort about their breast growing during puberty but they said after some time it decreased but for mines it seems like a problem that hasn’t gone away.

I am so sorry for the delay, seems work and side gigs are taking up a lot of my time lately.

I can only speak from my experience with my body and from other lesbians I talk to... and I talk to a lot. I have many friends across generations. Many of my younger friends are butch but not all. My older friends are a myriad of types of lesbians and as diverse as the greater population. This weekend now that we are all vaccinated we had a campfire with 12 lesbian, 5 butches present. We have definitely had discussions about our breasts, discomfort, and the mourning over loosing breasts to cancer (or the danger of cancer). Most of my buddies, from 19 to 68 share similar stories about learning to be at least “okay” with their bodies in a world where our physical attributes are often used to define our personality, and our worth.

One thing we ALL share, as women, not just lesbians, is that we were at best dissatisfied that we have breasts starting as soon as they begin to form. I was 7 when mom told me I had to wear a shirt outside. Wow was I pissed. AND as a 7 years old I knew it had nothing to do with me but everyone seemed just fine with the fact that men were the issue but since we can’t change them we must change our own behavior.

I remember thinking “how is me not wearing a shirt a problem”. Breasts had been neutral for me at that point. Just another part of my body. Once I realized “they” made me different, more vulnerable, more controlled, less “human” than those around me without breasts I turned my hate on my body instead of the people who really were to blame. Just like I was taught, I can’t control the men but I perhaps I could control my body.

I have raised at least 10 teenage daughters (2 are lesbians now) my youngest adopted is 15 and when her other mom told her to put on a shirt in the summer of her 8th birthday, even in our rural yard she looked at me dead in the eye and said “why haven’t you fixed this yet?” (meaning women’s bodies being subject to the eyes and opinions of men). I wonder.. why haven’t we? She is the youngest, but all the others grew from hating their breasts to at least neutral, some really love their bodies and that is lovely.

Lesbians are unique in our dealings of men’s opinions because we never need or want the approval of men in relation to our bodies. The opposite in fact.. we would prefer they see us void of anything they find sexual. Many women, straight, bi, lesbian eventually either learn to give no shits about the opinions of men or they learn to work around that feeling.

Ok.. all that being said, my story. My breasts are B cups, perhaps C’s when I was a bit heavier weight wise. I wore regular bras WITH padding and always as tight as a could to make them less noticeable. When I came out i switched to sports bras because i was embracing being butch and no longer wanted to play the game of wearing “pretty bra” . I never wore tight shirts, always baggy. I wore the tightest bra I could wear to keep my breasts smaller, less visible. FOR YEARS.

Going to a women’s festival opened my eyes to the many ways bodies can be. The many ways BUTCH bodies can exist. Women went topless and NO one sexualized them. (except when appropriate-- like while flirting etc when it was welcomed). Thousands of people, many topless and no one, not one person was oogled, cat called, teased, or otherwise treated as different than someone wearing a shirt. What did they all share? Why was it different than in other places? Women. All women and mostly lesbians. However that did not automatically translate to “I am going back to the real world and giving no fucks about the reality of existing with breasts in our world”. It took time.

I no longer wear a bra just an undershirt. BUT I am in control of where I go, who I interact with most of the time. If I was still at my retail job, I’d probably still wear a bra. I no longer dislike my breasts. I love them. They bring me pleasure, they bring my girlfriend pleasure. They are a lovely part of me BUT that does not mean I am not very aware in public of my nipples being visible or of people noticing I am braless. And I imagine it is harder for women with larger breasts.

Had binders been a “thing”, had I had access to a double mastectomy, or the idea of it i cannot say that would have pursued either. The pattern suggests I would have. But again., neither were on my radar, not options presented to me or encouraged as a way to solve my discomfort.

I have three friends who have had elective double mastectomies. And many who had one to prevent or remove cancer. Several of them suffer consistent and painful nerve damage that is not treatable, is quite common, is unpredictable (they can’t know who will have it) and possibly life long. Of the three who were trying to alleviate the distress of dysphoria, all three regret the decision and none of them are over 30 yet. These women are all lesbians. Those who had the surgery because of cancer are thrilled to be happy and alive with less worry, although they do deal with nerve issues and mourn the loss of a part of their body.

I have a few trans men friends, although we are not close. A couple of them have had double mastectomies but their thoughts or feelings have not come up, we are just not close enough for such a personal discussion and none have had the surgery for more than 2 years. I have had lots of older lesbians friends (and a few younger) who did get breast reduction surgery and their health and mental health were both improved. Their backs are better, their clothes fit better and they feel more active, less self conscious with out the physical risks of a full mastectomy.

The easy answer and what I WANT to say, is be patient, find lots of older lesbians friends to show you your body is neutral, men are the problem. Give yourself time to understand that your breasts are as butch as the rest of you. They are a natural part of your body and how you are meant to be. Also, I know there is not an easy answer. Men will continue to exist. They will continue to sexualize lesbians (with or without breasts). I didn’t outgrow wishing my breasts could just disappear(in public settings) until my 40′s but it got easier and easier to sort of “live with it”. I am many times over grateful for my healthy breasts now.

Seek therapy.. and not someone who will just go along with what ever you say. My therapists works me hard. She makes me answer the hard questions. She has me vocalize things that I don’t even want to admit in my head let alone out loud. Find one like that. Find one who is willing to explore all the reasons your breasts cause you distress. Then, if you decide to proceed, you can do so knowing you were worth the hard work and you can feel more confident in making an informed decision. Don’t make any decisions based on the opinions of men. Your body. YOUR decision. Write that down on a post it and keep it somewhere you will see it.

If you would like to speak to some others who are struggling with how you feel or want to talk to lesbians who can tell you about their double mastectomies, DM me, perhaps I can connect you.

If anyone wants to add their experience in the notes please be kind. No judgement for anyone making such a difficult decision.

One last thing to this long post. From one butch to another. I care about you and I am saddened and angry at bull shit you have to wade through in this world. I get it. You are not alone.

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holycow99 · 3 years

Text

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 7

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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(t/n: ** means translation may not be accurate.)

I: Any other suggestion for the project?

C: I want you to create Choujin X first chapter with assistants.

I: I wanna see what’ll happen if I hire 100 people. I wanna try draw them with 100 assistants. It’ll probably take an excessive amount of time.

C: Having the viewers as your assistants.

I: That’s a bit interesting. A manga just for that. If it’s the side story’s one shot, then it’s okay. It’d look like a prank if I let you guys draw the real thing.

C: How about playing with Rod?

I: That’s a good idea.

*He’s talking about Saito Naoki again.

C: an overseas fan wrote that you’re gonna eat 1 million fan letters to celebrate 30, 000 subscribers.

I: It’s getting weird. Not 1 million fan letters. It’s head hunting 100 assistants and eating 10 years’ worth of fan letters.

C: How about becoming Fukuoka’s Banksy? (t/n: Banksy is a slang for people who do street arts.)

I: I wanna scribble on the wall too.

*Ishida trying to avoid people shooting at him while escaping from the place after killing the target.

I: They (the guards) remember who I am. Forget me, forget me. This is the opposite of unravel (TG op). Forget me 2x. Please forget me!

*Ishida trying to knock people out but ended up killing them.

I: Ah, I accidentally killed him. Whatever, people will one day die either way.

I: Reverse of unravel will be ravel. (TMI: According to Merriam-Webster, both unravel and ravel mean the same thing.)

I: The assistant head hunting suggestion is a good idea for the 30,000 commemoration. Goubaru probably can do it, though he’s working elsewhere. He’s working someplace else, where he gets sexually harassed. People touched his butt everyday. So pitiful. “I hate it!” (t/n: Ishida imitating Goubaru.) He receives body check from people.

Y****: Please do a career consultation.

I: I’m okay with that. Well, we’ve known each other for a year already. It’s because I was able to distinguish between you and S******. I’ve got to considerably know what you guys are like. Y****is in the theatre club, while S****** is the one who addresses Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber) as ‘that guy’. S****** has a sharp tongue.

I: Y****, where do you wanna go to in the future?

*Ishida reading this person’s comment.

I: You’re in the theatre club, but you wanna be a musician?! Lots of dreams you got there. You have so many dreams. You’re 16, 17 years old, right? You can just be anything, then. How about trying it out? Which one do you wanna do?

C: You can still become a musician even if you’re in the theatre club.

I: That’s true. Hoshino gen also did theatre before, if I’m not mistaken. I’m not sure though. It’s okay if you haven’t decided yet. There are still many possibilities for you.

(t/n: Hoshino Gen is an actor & singer)

C: Theatre requires high ability to express yourself, so I think it’s applicable to music as well.

I: That’s right. That applies to both. You can use the ability to express yourself that you’ve gained from theatre in music. Likewise, since music has various genre, I think it offers a lot of things to theatre. Just like you said. I think either way is good.

I: I think it’s just a matter of where you’ll end up eventually. It’s not like I’ve been writing manga all this while. I dreamed of becoming a mangaka because I didn’t want to get a job. I didn’t want to work, so I wanted to become a mangaka.

C: Well, you can learn anything.

I: Exactly.

C: I wanna quit being a member of society.

I: I didn’t say anything about that.

C: I’m 21, but I wanna be a high-schooler.

I: That’s impossible. Turning back time is impossible. Let’s focus on the real world.

C: Can I decide on my future dream based on impure motives?

I: I think it’s okay. It’s not a bad thing to have that kind of reasons. It’s okay to wanna be popular or wanting money. I think just having that is enough. But what happen after you achieve that is gonna be another story.

C: Sometimes, you can be happy just by drawing and playing games.

I: That is important.

C: My beloved dog that I’ve had for 14 years died recently. What should I do with this lingering affection that I have?

I: I understand how you feel. This is a difficult topic. I think it’s good to have a lingering affection. You can’t help but to have that kind of feelings when you lose a life. Time is the only way to heal wounds.

I: in the end, which one did Y**** choose? Did it end with him saying he’ll do his best? He’s having a trouble deciding whether to go to a vocational school or enter university. I see. Vocational school or university… You’ll spend 4 years in university and you need to manage your own time, so if you don’t have any confidence you’ll be able to manage yourself, it’ll be hard for you. But university is a good place for you if you wanna experience various things and obtain various knowledge.

* Ishida then continued giving a super long speech about Y****’s worries without knowing that he’s already slept.

C: Y**** already said good night.

I: Seriously?! He’s gone to bed?! You’re kidding me! Eh? He’s already sleeping?

*Scrolling for the guy’s comment.

I: “I feel much better now. Good night.” Hahaha. That guy’s gone to sleep. So irritating! What’s up with him? Even though I did my best to give him advice.

MM: On the contrary, don’t you have any worries, sensei?

I: MM’s here again. I’m gonna pin this.

I: My worries? I do have though, but I won’t tell you guys. It’s not really a worry, just something I should think about. Even if it was something serious, I’ll solve it by myself.

*Ishida continued answering the fans’ worries related to school and work. (t’n: I didn’t translate this part because I feel like I’d be disclosing personal info, so I refrained from doing that. I only translated if it’s related to manga or mangaka’s questions.)

C: My relative told me that it’s hard to make a living as a mangaka. As expected, am I dreaming too much? What do you think?

I: I don’t know. It depends on your ability and the effort you put in. Your relative might’ve seen your work and gave some comment. Even for me, people wanted me to quickly give up pursuing this path. I heard about it later though. So, no one knows what will happen in the future.

I: It’s hard to make a living as a mangaka? If it was before, I can understand that. On the contrary, this notion is now no longer applicable. Now, whatever jobs you do is hard. If you were to say you wanna work in a restaurant, people will be opposed to it, but you wanna be a chef no matter what. Anything you do is gonna be tough, after all. First of all, you’re allowed to choose what you wanna be no matter if it’s tough or whatever. And relatively, being a mangaka has a wide scope of jobs. It’s just that people don’t know about it. I think when there’s a will, there’s a way. If you wanna pursue that because you want it to be made into an anime or drama, then it might be difficult for you since that depends on luck.** Well, I’m able to manage my life better than other professions, especially in this period since I can just do my work at home.** Also, if you think it’s okay for you even if it’s tough, then I think you can just do whatever you wanna do. I’m not talking about you putting effort. Even if it’s tough, just by aiming for it is fun. Something like that. If you can live in such manner, then you can just go for it no matter if it’s tough or not.

C: I don’t wanna be a mangaka. I just wanna write manga.

I: That’s good. Let’s write one.

*He continued giving advice to fans.

Part 8

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #choujin x #chojin x #jack jeanne #ishida sushi channel

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thenovelartist · 3 years

Text

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 10

<Previous

28. Domesticity

The following months were hard, but that was to be expected.

The big difference was that Marinette was over at Adrien’s place far more often than not. Whether she was cooking for him, helping him try to keep his thoughts straight, or just working on her fashion commissions in the background, she was there. And while he did complain that he felt like he was taking advantage of her by depending too much on her, she constantly reassured him she didn’t mind. He was her partner and her friend, both in and out of the suit. Helping him get back on his feet was hard work but something she was more than willing to do.

Once, the thought popped into her mind that this was what the vow “in sickness and in health” meant. And while they were nowhere near thinking of marriage—heck, even a romantic relationship wasn’t even on the table at the moment—Marinette couldn’t help but think on it anyway. After all, she’d certainly had a plan to marry Adrien at one time in her life, and she can’t say she hadn’t considered what a life with Chat would have been like. And if a possibility of them being together surfaced in the near future…

She shook the thought from her head. This was no time to be thinking on things like romance and domesticity. That shouldn’t have even been on the table, even if her heart throbbed every once in a while in reminder that she did love the man she was taking care of. Her best friend and partner. No, now was the time to focus solely on helping him recover.

Which, much to Marinette and Adrien’s relief, he was.

It was a slow process, but his appetite had been returning. He’d been able to stomach more food as of lately and keep it down without looking green in the face.

The fog over his eyes had also cleared up for the most part, and he no longer walked around in a haze. The exhaustion still persisted, and his mind still wasn’t fully on point again, but with the progress he had been making, Marinette was sure they regulate in no time.

And she was extremely thankful for it.

29. Roses

“That… is a lot of roses.”

Marinette couldn’t help but gawk when she entered Adrien’s house. She’d been given a key back before he’d even revealed himself to be Chat, back when she had forced herself into the role of Adrien’s caregiver. He’d given it to her one day out of exhaustion of the “game” she played, one titled “I do not care if I stand at your door for an hour, I will knock every thirty seconds until you open the door.” So, an agreement had been reached she’d always come over at a certain time and let herself in to check in on him.

Currently, the boy in question was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was left staring at a large bouquet of deep red roses speckled with brilliant white lilies in a glass vase tied off with a lovely pink ribbon. In the middle of the bouquet was a glittery plastic stick that held a card that read “Marinette” on the front of it. It was a stunning sight.

Where did you even get those, Adrien?

And why?

After putting her purse down by the front door, she walked over to pluck the card off the stick, carefully opening the back and pulling out the pink card. Inside was a familiar handwriting, one that was steady now after months of recovery.

Marinette,

I don’t even know where to begin. I guess with a thank you. Thank you for everything. From staying by my side as Marinette and caring for me to insisting I’m still your partner as Ladybug and refusing to let me go to every other thing in between.

While these flowers don’t even put a dent into the debt I owe you, I felt they were a great place to start. Something beautiful for someone beautiful. I want to say that I’m ready to spend the rest of my life by your side paying you back, but that’s likely getting to ahead of myself. I have been in love with you for years, as you know, and have confessed my love to you as Chat multiple times. My love for you is still true, even though I know you’ve drawn your lines.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this and only seeing what I want to see, but lately, it feels as though those lines aren’t as hard as they used to be. Or maybe I’ve just gotten Nightingale Syndrome bad for you. Either way, I want to take the chance and put myself in your debt a little more by selfishly asking you to let me take you out on a date.

If your answer is no, I’m prepared for that. I never want to pressure you into something out of responsibility for me or out of guilt. I will still stand by your side as your partner and friend, forever.

But if your answer is yes, it would be one more thing of the countless you’ve done for me that I will be eternally grateful for.

Forever yours, in whatever way you’ll take him,

Adrien

When she finished reading, her hands fell to the table, letter still clutched in them as she tilted her head upwards in a vain attempt to keep the tears at bay. “Don’t cry,” she warned herself.

But even then, she knew it was too late.

With a beaming grin, she looked down at the card once more, scanning over the contents yet again. She only looked up again when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Adrien, looking better than she’d seen him in the five months since she’d taken his ring, was leaning against wall. He’d somehow cleaned up with a haircut—how he had managed to keep an appointment like that a secret from her was beyond her but also gave her confidence that he was feeling well enough to manage on his own again—shaved, and dressed up in a pressed button down, a vest, and slacks. His eyes were now clear, clear enough for her to see the fragile hope shining in them, even from across the room.

With a smile she couldn’t suppress is she tried, she dropped the card on the table, scurried over to him, and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her easily, no longer unsteady or requiring the assistance of a wall or other solid object, and held her tight.

“Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

She felt the tension leave his shoulders as he squeezed her tighter, clinging to her like a lifeline. “I thought I was might have been asking too much or springing that on you too suddenly.”

“No!” she quickly assured. “I mean… it was sudden, but I don’t mind. Not at all.”

He sighed with relief. “Good. Good; I’m glad.”

She giggled. “You’re not normally so speechless.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “You have no idea how terrified I was of your answer.”

“You? Mr. Confess-on-a-daily-basis was scared?”

“Of this one, yeah. I think this was the scariest confession to date.”

Worried, Marinette pulled away a bit, just so she could face Adrien and meet his gaze. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Because this time… it felt like I really had the most to lose compared to any other time I’ve confessed. You’ve seen the worst of me, and you’ve faced my darkest side. You could have easily said no now that you knew that about me.”

Pursing her lips, Marinette considered his words. “The thing is… I… don’t mind,” she eventually sputtered out. “Because I’ve seen you at your worst, and yet I also know there’s no one else I’d rather be with. There isn’t anyone in this world who doesn’t have that hidden ugly side of them. But yours doesn’t scare me in the slightest.”

To say Adrien was speechless was an understatement. For a moment, he gaped like a fish on land before he finally grinned, letting loose a chuckle before blinking away tears in his eyes.

Marinette was quick to cup his cheek, gently swiping away the tears. Adrien reached up, laying his hand over hers. “Well,” he murmured. “Guess I really can’t let you go now, can I?”

Marinette grinned, her own eyes prickling with tears. “Who said I was going to let you let me go?”

“Fair enough,” he said, grin growing. “You’re stubborn like that. I should know by now you’re way too stubborn to let me go.”

“You better believe it.”

30. Trust

It had been one year since the day Adrien’s father’s mansion had caught fire, and although Adrien had officially been cleared of suspicion of killing his father, the public was still skeptical of anything involving the Agrestes, especially with Nathalie Sancour having suddenly and mysteriously passed as well.

After struggling with the company for a year, it had officially dissolved and Adrien was finally able to be free of that burden. Yet, the burden of guilt still weighed on him.

“We’ve been over this,” Marinette assured. At the moment, Adrien was laying across her lap while she gently stroked his hair, a habit both of them had come to enjoy very much. “It was an accident. You fought your dad as Adrien and ran, but then went back as Chat when you thought he was out of the house so you could snag the book that wasn’t even there. You ended up pushing him off you when he tried to choke you out. The fact he fell and cracked his head open on a fallen statue was not your fault, nor was it your fault a fire started.”

“I still don’t know what happened,” Adrien muttered. “I don’t think he had any candles lit. I thought I heard glass break, so did a lightbulb break and send sparks flying? Or maybe he was cooking in the kitchen and something happened there? I really don’t have any clue.”

“See? So you can calm down. It was all in self-defense. Don’t feel bad for Nathalie, either. You were the one that called an ambulance for her when she suddenly collapsed.”

“I realized why she did,” Adrien said. “Same reason my mom collapsed. They each had the same symptoms, and they both wore the peacock miraculous. It was likely broken the same as my ring.”

Marinette’s hand stilled in his hair. “They what?”

Adrien froze, his body suddenly becoming stiff. “Did I not tell you?”

“No!” she cried. “Excuse you, but when did you come to this revelation?”

“I really never said anything?” Adrien asked, panicking as he scrambled to sit up so he could meet her eyes. “I swore I did!”

“No, you did not.”

With a groan, Adrien rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Marinette sighed. “Well, at least I know now. I’ll be sure to work on that one next.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” she dismissed. “I guess it’s understandable considering how out of it you were. There were days you did not know left from right.”

“I’ll take any excuse you let me have,” he said with a sigh, still looking disheartened. Marinette was sure that if he was transformed as Chat, his ears would have been drooped low.

Cute.

“On that same note, how is the ring coming along?” he asked. “I know you’ve been working hard. Have you made any headway?”

A grin suddenly spread across her face as a sudden urge to tease him struck her. “Oh? Did I not tell you?”

His eyes almost got misty as he pouted at her. “I said I was sorry.”

“I am, too,” she continued. “Because otherwise, I would have already told you I fixed it.”

Adrien’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as his jaw dropped. “Y-you did?”

“No.”

She laughed at the sudden shift in his expression, his hope being squashed as he glared at her, completely unamused. “You are cruel, ‘bug.”

Her laughter subsided as a warmth spread though her. “Did I also mention I’m really glad you started using that nickname again?”

His previous irritation faded as he returned her smile with one of his own. “I won’t lie: I missed saying it.”

“I’m up for hearing it for as long as you’re up for using it.”

“Good, because I don’t intend on dropping it any time soon.”

“I’m really glad to hear it,” she said. “For that, I think you deserve a reward.”

“Kiss?” he inquired excitedly.

A warmth blossomed on her cheeks as she giggled. “Well, that wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’d be willing to give you one of those, too. First, close your eyes.”

“Only one?”

She rolled her eyes. Kisses rarely stopped at one. She was very much okay with that, though. “Fine, two. Now, just close your eyes.”

He shut them, but then immediately cracked open one to steal a peek at her. “What do you have planned?”

“Just trust me.”

He shut his eyes all the way. “You know I do.”

“I do,” she confirmed. With that, she took his hand in hers before sliding a ring from her pocket onto his hand.

She didn’t get the ring halfway on his finger before he looked down at his hand in shock. “My ring.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, lacing their fingers together. “I really did fix it. It took a lot of trial and failure, though.”

“How…?” He stared at his hand in awe before turning to look at her, then turning back to his ring.

She shrugged. “Magic and time. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to fix the peacock in no time after this experiment.”

She swore she saw tears in his eyes. Whether he did or not, she still reached up to cradle his cheek.

“Hey,” she said. “Promise me one thing?”

His green eyes locked to hers, and she swore her breath caught in her throat at the intensity in them. “Anything.”

“Next time you have a problem like this, one so big your emotions get too much for you to contain, come to me first, and don’t push me away.”

She was right; he did have tears in his eyes, because at her words, they began to fall.

He grasped her hand tightly. “I promise,” he said, nuzzling her palm. “We’re partners, and I promise that I’ll trust you to be my partner and help me through the next time anything like this happens. But I just hope there won’t be any more surprises like that. Once is enough, and I learned my lesson.”

He meant it. Marinette could tell by his tone and gentle expression and the way he held her hand: tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

“I’m really glad to hear it,” she said, her heart fluttering as a warm, fuzzy feeling floated through her. “Now, I believe I promise you a kiss.”

“Two,” Adrien said, reaching up to cradle her cheek while he leaned closer. “You promised me two.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to stop so easily.”

“Since when do I ever?”

“Touché.”

31. Soulmates

His black suit never looked so good.

“Well, well, Chat Noir,” Marinette purred, leaning against the railing of her balcony with a cattish grin. “I thought you said I wasn’t going to see you again.”

“Unexpected surprises do happen, Princess,” he returned, shooting her a wink as he took a seat on the railing.

“And it’s such a purr-leasure to see you in your black suit.”

His own cattish grin widened. “For your purr-usal, princess,” he said with a wink.

Oh, how wonderful it was to have her cat back. She’d even keep up the stupid puns for him. “Hmmm, I sur-paws that you’re the cat’s meow.”

Dramatically, he threw a hand over his heart—

And nearly fell off the railing.

“Chat!” Marinette snatched his wrist, catching him in case he couldn’t catch himself, which he thankfully did.

“Heh, uh… looks like it’s gonna take a little more time before this cat can land on its feet one hundred purr-cent of the time again.”

“Not funny.”

“Relax, Marinette,” he said, sliding off the railing and onto the balcony so he could stand in front of her and wrap her up in his arms. “I’m almost totally back to normal.”

“Don’t push it,” she warned. “I still worry about you.”

“I won’t.”

“You almost did.”

“We were having a good time with my pun-hating girlfriend throwing them back at me. How could I not be awestruck and caught up in the moment.”

She snorted in amusement. “Well, the fun and games end when my kitty takes a fall he can’t recover from.”

He sighed, propping his chin on her head and beginning to purr, settling her down.

“That’s unfair,” she muttered, happily snuggling into his embrace. “You know I like your purrs.”

“I know you do. And it’s only fair for me to take responsibility for every heart attack I give you.”

She grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’m more than happy to,” he assured.

With a sigh, Marinette relaxed completely against him, grinning like the lovesick girl she was. She was more than content to play around with him, but she was more than content to snuggle, too.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” he asked, smile audible in his words.

“I think you have, but I’m always happy to be reminded.”

“Let’s see… I love you more than my cat puns.”

She gasped. “Impossible.”

“I know it seems that way,” he teased. “But it actually is possible, if you can believe that.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

He chuckled. “Well, let me put it this way: puns are the bread and butter of my life. But you’re my other half, and I really can’t live life to the fullest without you.”

“But you need bread and butter to survive. So wouldn’t they be more important?”

“They are an inherent need. I didn’t choose the pun life; the pun life chose me.”

She snorted, burying her face against him to hide her growing grin. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yes yes, I am. I’m a package deal, but you seem to accept that.”

“I do.”

“Which I’m so glad for,” he continued. “Because as I was saying, unlike the puns, I chose you. You came into my life and completed me in ways I didn’t realize I needed to be completed, and if you disappeared, I would be only half the person I once was.” He pulled away just enough to look down at her, his joking tone gone in favor of a serious one. “You’re my soulmate, and the biggest blessing I have ever received. And I’m so so thankful for you.”

Her heart felt like it could burst from her chest. “I love you, too, my kitty. You purr-fect me.”

He grinned, his green eyes shining and his expression seeming to brighten the night. “That was a good one.”

She giggled. “I learned from the best.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2021 #marichat #Fluff #FINALLY #XD #Thank you for your support #And sticking around through the chaotic schedule

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