#8 bpm

[8-beats-per-minute]

TALES OF THE JEDI SPOILERS ⚠️

THEY REALLY CUT FROM AHSOKA TRAINING WITH THE CLONES TO RIGHT BEFORE REX AND AHSOKA WALKED OUT IN FRONT OF THEM ON THE SHIP

AND REX SAYING “Jesse really tagged you” “Sorry commander!”

THAT HURT SO BAD. THEY JUSY HAD TO MAKE IT JESSE???

I’m not okay

And the end of the last episode with Ahsoka getting into the rebellion with Senator Organa???

(Kinda disappointed we didn’t get her saying “Fulcrum” but whatever)

AND SHE WRECKED THAT INQUISITIOR IN LIKE LESS THAN 10 SECONDS

Omg this was amazing

Also imagine your like 1-year-old gets taken by a giant predator animal and comes back RIDING THE DAMN THING

Kinda sad we didn’t see Plo but he was watching Ahsoka train

Omg Ahsokas dad being so happy and calling her little Soka? I teared up

Also it’s now confirmed that Plo is dad because he calls Ahsoka the same thing her dad did

OMG U ALMOST FORGOT BABY KANAN/CALEB AND MASTER BILLABA WATCHING AHSOKA TRAIN AND CALEB BEING SO IMPRESSED I ALMOST CRIED

I have so many feelings

#tales of the jedi #totj #totj ahsoka #totj spoilers #ahsoka tano #star wars #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #501st legion #padmé amidala #padmé funeral #tales of the jedi trailer #tcw ahsoka #plo koon #totj plo koon #tcw plo koon #obi wan kenobi #8 bpm

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

i feel like i can at the very least get every perfect in fever tbh. maybe not ds or tengoku or megamix (esp not tengoku n megamix *stares at polyrhythm 2 n megamix ninja bodyguard*) but fever's easy-

#puppy rambles #rhythm hell #fever #i just need like. monkey watch (which is a lot harder in fever than in megamix tbf) #not remix 8 (also hard. 190 bpm exhibition match. hell) #micro-row 2 (no idea why i haven't perfected it yet-) #n remix 10 (only a problem cuz of night walk)

[waterdroplet02]

hi if you play brawl stars then i'm sorry in advance

#brawl stars #bad music #very bad music #an abomination upon the world #my brain decided to align two thoughts up with each other at the wrong points and birthed this #and naturally i got to manifesting it in the physical realm with audacity and my favorite yt to mp3 program #anyway fun facts #brawl stars battle 8 is 168.4 bpm exactly #while despacito is 178 bpm #i slowed down despacito for this one

[lesbiangiratina]

Kat fact of the day: dialga and palkia’s battle theme is 2 bpm faster in platinum than it is in diamond and pearl. I hope this information enriches your life in some way

#i knew that cyrus’ was faster in platinum and i wanted to check how much faster it was #8 bpm. its noticeable if you pay attention #and i was like huh i wonder if anything else is faster #so ive been sitting here tapping out tempos for about an hour #the only other battle theme that changed was dialga and palkia. and its by 2 beats per minute. thats not. very noticeable. whyd they do it. #for the record im comparing platinum in-game audio and the official dp ost #but for dialga and palkia i did check game footage. and its 180 in both. and 182 in platinum #AND btw its 180 in bdsp #oh yeah and cyrus’ theme in bdsp is at the dp speed not pt. as if they didnt fuck it up enough #cyrus’ theme was also 4 bpm slower in the dp beta… fun fact… #this is fun for me. this is how i have fun #the kat goes meow #pkmn

[devoid-of-love]

Expulze, The 3Eyed - Legbreaker

from: Footworxx Summer Contamination Unit 8 (compilation)

it's fucked up how good this song is. some may know this, but i am a huge whore for hardcore that manages to dark and fun and this knocks it out of the park there's also what i think are lil texas samples throughout the whole song. very bouncy

#Legbreaker #Expulze #The 3Eyed #Footworxx #Footworxx Summer Contamination Unit 8 #compilation #hxc #170 bpm #gabber #gabba #Spotify

[modernmutiny]

if lupus decides to make me randomly allergic to One More Thing im gonna McFreaking Lose It

#teddy talks #personal #to delete later #the list is just getting longer and longer #this time its (drumroll please) #fuCKING NYLON #so if i cant resolve that im gonna have to get a wholeass chest anchored heart rate monitor #which i do NOT want to do #like yes i know wrist ones arent super accurate but 8 just need it to tell me if my heart rate goes below 50 bpm #which! were down to like once a week now bc im getting better at noticing the leading symptoms bc of my fitbit #but said fitbit is now giving me huge rashes on my wrist >:( #so basically on this weeks episode of Fuck Lupus i have to spend like $50 on all kinds of replacement bands in different materials #in the hopes that One (1) of them wont activate my bodys fight/flight mechanism #anyways. rant over #thanks for tuning in. well see u next time on Teddys Life Is Spiralling Out Of Control

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #dom spencer reid #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

[project-sekai-facts]

Tsukasa is heavily asociated with the number 88, beginning with his second commissioned song, 88☆彡. The song itself has the number 88 as a recurring motif, with some of this symbolism connecting to Tsukasa.

The following is a (hopefully) complete list of the connections the song and Tsukasa have to the number 88:

The song is exaclty 88 measures long.

The song has a BPM of 176, which is 88 in half-time.

The note count for the song's chart on every difficulty ends in 88 (increasing: 388, 588, 688, 1088, 1188)

There are 88 keys on the piano. Tsukasa's connection to the piano was explored within the On the stage of dazzling light event, the event that 88☆彡 was commissioned for.

When written in English, Wonderlands contains 11 letters, and Showtime contains 8. If the "x" in WonderlandsxShowtime is used as a multiplication sign, 11 multiplied by 8 is equal to 88.

The 8th chapter of this event happens to be the 88th chapter of WonderlandsxShowtime's story altogether (counting all the main story, Virtual Singer main story, and event stories). This doesn't apply to the EN server due to the omission of Revival my dream.

There are 88 known constellations. Another piece of recurring imagery with Tsukasa is a star, which is included in the song's title. Some constellations can also be seen on his trained Star Melody banner 4* card.

The Tenma siblings (including Toya as their honourary sibling) have birthdays that are 8 days apart (Saki is May 9th, Tsukasa is May 17th, and Toya is May 25th). Tsukasa has the middle birthday of the three, meaning that 88 (or 8 and another 8) connects him to the people he considers most important to him. All three of them are also connected to the piano.

Tsukasa smiles in the 2DMV at the end of the bridge, which is also 88 seconds into the song.

In addition to this, Tsukasa's third unit banner, Towards the Phoenix at the Sky's Edge, was the game's 88th event. Again this does not apply to the EN server.

#do not argue about what i said about toya because it is canon. otherwise it would not be on the fact account. lol. #tbh i just took this off the wiki but i couldn't think of anything extra. if i missed anything lmk #tsukasa tenma #songs #on the stage of dazzling light #project sekai #hall of fame

[payasita]

Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.

#personal #anyway thanks for the kind words anon #i am going to go lie down #ADHD #long post

[8-beats-per-minute]

Okay so I saw this hc a while ago that said splinter would give his kids birthdays based on important Lou Jitsu dates (movie release, etc.) and for Leo and Donnie he accidentally said the same dates cause there were 2 events that had the same date so he was like “uhhh twins”

And I love that but if that happened, I feel like things would have ended up being very different

The turtles are huge Lou Jitsu fans (obviously) and they would have absolutely known what those dates mean.

And they would absolutely name themselves after them. Like they never would have gotten their renaissance artist names cause they would have discovered their Lou Jitsu names.

They would have obviously assumed it was some kind of coincidence and they were just MEANT to have these names.

So they’d end up with names like “Crouching Shrimp Hidden Tiger Prawn” or “1 Fish, 2 Fish, Red Fish – Dead Fish” or “Bedtime for Bozos”. And they would’ve eventually come up with nicknames or something but they’d 100% be adamant that those are their names.

And splinter would actually be laughing his ass off but also cringing inside.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rise of the tmnt #lou jitsu #lou jitsu movies #rise season 3 #rise movie #rise raph #rise lou jitsu #rise splinter #rise mikey #rise donnie #rise leo #rise disaster twins #8 bpm

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

i have so much random rhythm heaven knowledge and no use for it-

#puppy rambles #rhythm hell #and yet sometimes i still find out random shit sometimes on the wiki #i don't look at the wiki anymore really ngl. except for like game bpm #i don't trust it to be right on anything else lksdfjfdskjfds- #most fandom wikis are pretty good but god the rhythm heaven wiki is a mess #it's a great mess sometimes though. where else would i find stuff like ''this is the first remix 8 to be speedy'' #rip to that trivia point. actually ds remix 8 never had it so it was ''this is the second remix 8 to be speedy'' #cuz it was not remix 8 #will the next remix 8 be speedy or not speedy place your bets. my bets is that it'll be speedy #we'll get two speedy remix 8's in a row n then a not speedy one-

[cozage]

Hello!

Firstly, I love your work ❤️❤️

Secondly, I saw your 2k follower milestone post.

Could you do Trafalgar Law as a girl dad? Like with a black wife (I'm black and I want this man so bad lol)

Maybe with him finding out she's pregnant, then finding out it's a girl. Just how he'd take the news and how he'd treat their daughter.

And, if you have the time, maybe when she's older and wants to date somebody. Idk I feel like he's a protective loving father 🥲🥲

A/N: I could go on and on about Trafalgar Law as a Girl Dad. He was made to have a daughter.  Characters: female reader x Law Cw: some talk about infertility and diseases, little bit of angst. Total word count:770

Girl Dad

Trafalgar Law was not expecting a positive pregnancy test. All signs had pointed he was infertile, a result of Amber Lead Sickness he had as a child. 

Even despite that prognosis and you all being careful, the test in front of him was positive. He was going to be a father. 

A part of him was ecstatic. The two of you had talked about kids before, through adoption or other options. But this child growing inside your womb was his child, made of DNA from him and his favorite person in the whole world. 

He spirals a few times, alone in his office. What if the baby had Amber Lead Poisoning? What is the life expectancy of a child in this generation? What if the child spreads the disease to you and you get sick? Some nights he can’t sleep; he’s just up thinking about What-ifs.

He frets over everything during your pregnancy. If your BPM or heart rate is even slightly elevated, if your bloodwork is just slightly off, he starts to worry. He runs test after test, just to make sure everything is okay

Even things like the way the nursery room is set up stresses him out. If the bed is too big or if the blankets will be a problem, the risk of certain paints or old furniture. This man has studied so many medical diseases that he’s paranoid about anything and everything.

At week twenty he’s running a weekly scan and finds out it’s a girl. He breaks down in tears, thinking of his mother and his sister. He wished they could be here to celebrate with you all. But it’s only the two of you in his little doctor's office. 

He wanted to find a more fun way to tell you the news, but his tears of joy tell you everything you need to know. Of course it’s a girl. You always knew he would make the best father for a little girl. 

When she’s finally brought into the world, Law cannot stop staring at her. She has your skin and his eyes, and you’ve never seen a more beautiful combination for a human being.

Sometimes you’ll wake up in the middle of the night just to find Law holding her while she sleeps, completely transfixed on her. He’s always smiling like an idiot, just watching her sleep.

He is always whispering in her ear, telling her how much he loves her and how special she is. She grows up constantly hearing how much she is loved by everyone on the ship. 

As she gets older, Law has a hard time saying no to her. She wants that cute princess dress? Of course she can have it. You’ve never seen this man bend his will so easily to another human. But he'd give her the moon if she asked.

He will dress up in tiaras and have tea parties. Everyone on the ship will! Sometimes you’ll be walking around and it will be strangely quiet, and you just know you’re little princess has gotten those boys doing her bidding in some way or another. 

He sets up a little desk for her in his office when she turns three, and you are BAFFLED. The man never lets anyone in his office! And now your daughter has a DESK in there, full of crayons and coloring books and journals.

She has a knack for medicine too and loves to make her own “potions” (aka dyed water. Law isn’t THAT crazy) in the lab. He starts teaching her how to use pipettes and measure out liquids. Once she turns 8, he shows her how to run tests and read medical data. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

On the ship, she has full reign. Whatever she wants to do, she’s welcome to do it. Law only ever raises his voice at her when she’s in danger or when he’s scared. 

On island visits, it’s a little bit different. He doesn’t like her to leave his side, even as she creeps into her teenage and young adult years. 

He has a really hard time letting her have her freedom. He knows what kind of people wait around the corner of islands on the Grand Line, eager to get a girl of her stature and her beauty. He’s trained her how to fight, but he’s still desperate to protect her from the world.

It’s hard sometimes, having a husband who loves so deeply and wants to protect so much. You often have to be the mediator, reminding Law to be gentle and reminding your daughter that he just wants to protect her. 

But you’re a family, and you always love each other and forgive each other. It’s not always perfect, but you would never trade it, and neither would Law.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

[shineemoon]

240401 BPM official update NEXT PLANET? 🐥 2024.04.01(MON) 8:00AM

#SHINee #taemin #lee taemin #it's really happening #wish you all the best taemin ♥

[fruitcoops]

Ok so this post is from a while ago but i just saw it and am wondering if you would want to write something based on it? Or just about trauma response in general?

Fic O'Ween Day 8: Shiver. Credit to @lumosinlove for the SW-verse and @noots-fic-fests for the header + prompts!

TW for trauma response to canon injury (Remus')--flashback, panic attack symptoms; and broken bone.

Call for stretcher on standby before moving out. Careful on the patch by the bench—always extra slippery. Check pulse and breath, then pupil constriction. Pen light in the shirt pocket. Players take a knee to make space. Use your body to block the camera in the right corner.

Remus knew what he was supposed to do. Of course he did. He just…couldn’t move.

“EMTs on standby!”

This was a strange feeling, not moving. It wasn’t even that—a choice. It was a complete and total absence. What was the opposite? Stillness? He didn’t feel still. He didn’t feel as if something had taken the place of motion. A gap had been scooped out of his belly, and nothing had come to fill it. It was simple emptiness where there had been adrenaline five seconds before.

“Lupin, catch up on Vance’s left!”

Had his ears always rung at that pitch? Funny. He hadn’t noticed.

“Lupin!”

Perhaps they had. Perhaps someone in the crowd had brought a whistle. There were an awful lot of people crowding the rink.

“Hey—” Weight and pressure collided with the back of his neck. Remus felt something in him go dim, powered off. “Kid, let’s fucking go! Are you asleep out here?”

James’ feet were flexing in his skates. Restriction of the tibialis anterior from the pain. Vastus medialis, following. His knee bent and bowed inward. If he kept the writhing up, there would be strain on the gastrocnemius and soleus. Remus blinked hard. James’ legs tended to ache after practice. The man got calf cramps like nobody he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ,” the hand on his neck muttered. It moved away. Pressure released.

“Rapid breathing, strain in the calf,” Remus blurted. His eye twitched. Blinking took incredible effort. “He’s going to try and stand up. Stop, James, stop it—”

Careful on the patch by the bench. He sidestepped without a second thought. In two strides, he was looking at James’ flushed and sweaty face. “Holy fuck, my fuckin’ arm, on fucking fire—”

“Pots.” His neck was burning up under Remus’ two fingers. Ten seconds, 25 thumps. “150 bpm,” Remus informed the nearest trainer. The pen light was ice-cold in his fingers. “James, give me a big deep breath.”

“Loops—”

“I’ll count to four while you breathe in, and then we’re gonna let it out for four.” His own voice reverberated back to him from a thousand miles away. Ice dampened the knees of his khakis. James gritted his teeth; his nostrils flared. “One, two, three, four. Good job. And four, three, two, one. Nice, buddy. Pupil activity normal, breathing unimpaired. You said it was your arm, right? Up or down?”

“All of it,” James panted. “All—fuck me, Loops, don’t talk to me right now—”

“Almost done, J. Wiggle your fingers.” A faint roaring had started up in the back of his mind. It crept into his eardrums and down his back. Something trickled down his spine and tiptoed through the marrow of each rib. James’ fingers twitched. “Great work. Alright, they’re going to slide you onto the stretcher now. Keep taking those big breaths for me.”

Black, Dumais, and Walker were all hovering in the corner of his eye like crimson-and-black bloodstains. They blurred together as the roaring grew louder. Remus staggered to his feet. His pen light wobbled in his fingers, and he shoved it clumsily into his back pocket. Black stepped forward, quiet as a ghost on his skates. “Is he okay?”

“Um—I don’t—” The left edge of his vision blurred into grey. “I don’t diagnose. Possible elbow dislocation. Or radial or ulnar break. Likely not the humerus.”

“But is he okay?” Black pressed. The stretcher was so yellow against the ice it hurt to look at.

Remus’ throat squeezed. “Yeah, he’ll be okay. Probably out for a couple games. ‘Scuse me.”

Christ on a crutch, he was going to throw up if he didn’t get out of here right fucking now.

Black wasn’t looking at him anymore. Walker was talking to James as they loaded him up and began rolling him off the ice. Dumais…

Dumais was staring at him dead-on. Remus swallowed hard, and saw him lean over to whisper at Moody.

Would he—could they fire him for this? He thought he did okay. Pulse, pupils, penlight, ice patch. Four for four. He had been slow getting off the bench, but that was an abnormality. Nothing they needed to be concerned about for the future. There wouldn’t be a repeat performance. There wouldn’t, there wouldn’t.

He couldn’t feel his knees.

Moody was walking toward him.

Remus just barely managed to stumble back onto solid ground in the wake of the stretcher before Moody caught up. Barely. The flex of his hands was starting to hurt. Sweat and chemicals and terror washed his nose with acid.

“Lupin?”

He could feel plasticky foam on his cheek. It itched. Stung.

“Hey, kid, you with me?”

In the distance, his mouth coughed out a mumble. Fingers snapped under his nose. He couldn’t bring himself to flinch. If he flinched, the hands on his body were going to wrench his life out through his shoulder.

“Walk with me.”

Pressure on his upper back. A lurch.

Pale wood door. Heavy lock. Cold handle. Man door hand hook car door. Jules thought that was the funniest ghost story in the whole world.

“Sit.”

It was less of a sit, more of a controlled fall, and the easiest thing Remus had done in the past half hour. Something heavy fell over his shoulders.

“Hand.”

Man door hand hook car door.

Rough hands took one of his own between them. His wrist was full of gel instead of bones. Cooling gel? Ice pack. James was going to need—“Ice packs. Pots needs ice packs.”

His palm was clammy when it pressed to the base of his own throat. “We’ll have some ready when the docs are done.”

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. “160 bpm.”

“Take some breaths.”

An inhale sounded gaspy in the underwater buzz of the rink. An exhale rushed out all at once. He felt a little push to the back of his hand, and his fingers curled over his collarbone. The heel of his palm was solid against his sternum. The hollow of his throat gave slightly under his thumb. “130 bpm.”

“Keep going.”

“My neck.”

Extensive damage. Rhomboid. Deltoid. Trapezius. All the way into the splenius, though he wasn’t sure if that was from the hit or the dislocation or being pinned. A seat of salt poured into his mouth. He could taste it, the inside of a glove and the chemicals they used to clean the locker room mats. His head throbbed, pounded, he couldn’t see.

“145 bpm.”

“What’s wrong with your neck?”

“Strain potential whiplash impact.” Words tripped over each other to explain with complexity the situation did not need.

The hand over his own vanished, leaving cool air. Fingertips pushed gently against the sides of his neck. “Keep breathing, Lupin.”

A thumb ran along the outside of his spine and the floor came into focus. Prodding, palpating. Gentle despite the rasp of calluses at his nape. Steady, not gripping. He could pull away if he wanted to.

“I don’t feel damage.” A push beneath his ear. “Just some tension. Rate?”

Remus exhaled. “110.”

“Good work.”

“Thank you.”

“You interns and your manners,” Moody muttered. A few blinks brought his face back, all scrutiny and scowls. Remus had learned not to take it personally. “Relax, Lupin. Hand stays there until you’re under a hundred, you hear me?”

“Mhm.”

He was so lucky. He was so lucky. They were so kind to him here. He would try to deserve it.

“I’m sorry.”

Moody stood and pumped some sanitizer into his palm. The sharp tang chased out the bitter chemicals lingering in Remus’ memory. He sat back in his rolling chair, half-watching the game on the corner TV while his glass eye remained focused just over Remus’ shoulder. “Why?”

“Froze up.”

Moody set his bad leg up on a footstool with a grunt. “Rate?”

“90.”

“Where’d you go out there?”

A locker room, two years and a thousand miles away. “College.”

“Bad hit?”

Remus took a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Moody nodded. “Gonna be a problem?”

“Shouldn’t.”

“Tell me if it is.” On the screen, Kasey made a beautiful save. “You’re not in trouble.”

“I’m sorry.” Sweat was beginning to freeze on his skin; he shivered. He took his palm off his neck and tucked it under his thighs, but missed the pressure above his heart almost instantly. The light blanket over his back wasn’t much more than a thin comfort. “I just—I don’t know. I didn’t know that would happen.”

“You’re young. You learn.”

“James was down.”

“It was five seconds, Lupin.” Moody’s voice wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cruel, either. “You did your job. Now you know.”

The back of his throat prickled. He managed a nod.

“You know, Heather is a resource for all Lions staff.”

It’s not that simple, he wanted to say. But—it could be. Maybe. Not right now, when he was teetering on the tightrope between two worlds, but soon. He could do that for Moody and James and Arthur and maybe, just a little, for himself.

#remus lupin #alastor moody #james potter #sirius black #pascal dumais #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #angst with hopeful ending #hurt/ comfort #thomas walker #injury

[ultrakdramamama]

240331 bpm_ent_official

NEXT PLANET?

🐥 2024.04.01(MON) 8:00AM

#BPM#BigPlanetMade

Looks like Taemin will be signing for his solo work with Big Planet Made - BPM Ent.

Here are their socials to follow to keep up with Taemin:

Instagram: bpm_ent_official

Facebook: BPM ent 

Twitter: @bpmentofficial

#SHINee #Taemin #Lee Taemin #SuperM #BPM Ent #bpm_ent_official #instagram #240331 #they don't seem to have a tiktok #at least i couldn't find one #Big Planet Made

[lunalillyhbhb]

Lea's Home

Chapter 8 pt.2

The twins stand in front of me, eyes darting everywhere, looking scared. My heart starts racing a bit, excited.

"Care to explain yourselves?" I ask, my voice deepening. My eyes flicker to their chests before I can stop myself, noticing the faintly visible carotids bounding in fear.

"Please! You can't tell anyone!

"It's just that exams have been really stressful-"

"-and we haven't had time for each other-"

"We couldn't wait to go back home!"

"Please don't chase us away! We really need these jobs!"

Their voices plead, almost desperate... yet not mentioning the fact that they were kissing each other, like they didn't see anything wrong with that.

"Just how badly do you need this job..." the words escape my mouth very quietly, and immediately they reply in high pitched voices- "We'll do anything, please!"

Anything...... anything. Dangerous words.

"Anything you say...." It's finally time to test my twin theory. Let's see how far this actually goes.

The twins gulp and freeze in place, suddenly realizing the severity of those words. I walk toward them slowly, studying their facial features, their physical structures, their posture. I stand so close in front of them and slowly trace my fingers along their arms, from their wrist to shoulder, feel them shudder under my touch. Each hand slowly makes their way to their carotids, nestling in the nook of their necks. Roughly a steady 95-100 bpm. Slightly out of sync with each other, yet still thumping with the same intensity and vigor. Check out.

I remove my hands and feel the twins breath out a breath they were unconsciously holding in and before they can settle down, i press my hands in gently but firmly on their abdomen, palpating their abdominal pulse. The sudden action jolts shock from them, and their hearts spike almost simultaneously, their aorta pulsing strongly under my fingertips. I trace my way up to their tricuspid point and I almost immediately locate their PMI, so clearly begging for attention..... Attention I will soon give. I allow my hands to cup their breast, hand perfectly encompassing them. Arielle closes her eyes and tilts her head back and a tiny moan escaping her lips, almost like she's starting to enjoy this. Arianna's eyes are squeezed shut, biting her lip. She's trying hard not to loose herself, but I am starting to. I give each one a gentle squeeze and Arielle's knees shake under her.

"Remove your shirts" I order them, and without a second thought they slide it off and throw it aside, eyes looking at me fervently. Their chest in full display, stunningly curvy and voluptuous, held together with matching bras, pink on Arielle and black on Arianna, alluringly call me.

"Kiss each other. Now." They look at me confused. "Do exactly what you were doing before I interrupted." Their faces are painted with uncertainty, but they nonetheless look at each other, both clearly aroused and in desperate need of tending to. The hesitations lasts for only a second before they let their arousal consume them, and they start kissing with passion and heat. I watch them, the way their faces display the same look of lust, the way the red heat lingers on their cheeks and on their ears.

I can't wait any longer. I pull out my stethoscope and push the diaphragm into Arianna, who moans at the sudden cold sensation. Immediately her music fills me, I can hear how clearly her heart yearns for her sister, irregularly beating hard and fast as lust takes over her-

Thump thump thump thumpthump thump thump thump

Arielle feeling left out, unhooks her pink bra and pushes her subtle pink nipple now hard and erect, towards me and I let my tongue explore every area of her. Under my tongue I feel her heart thumping wildly inside her ribcage, impatiently waiting its turn. It's clear my tongue had an effect on her....will it be the same for Arianna?

I hastily unhook Arianna's black bra, letting it fall messily to the floor and start playing with her rock hard nipple, also the same shade of pink as her sister. I twist and pinch with my fingers with my tongue still focused on Arielle, who's heart is racing faster and faster, as if showing me it's potential. As expected, Arianna's heart suddenly spikes, matching pace and intensity as it's sister, both fighting for my attention.

What about inside.......

From her nipples, my hand slips inside Arianna, already a sopping wet mess, and roughly massages her clit in time to her sister's heartbeat, my stethoscope long since abandoned. The second my finger grazes her clit Arianna moans loudly, begging for more. As my finger explores her, I pick up my steth and order her to hold the diaphragm firmly. As I gently rub around, all of a sudden her heart skips and I can feel her so close. So this is her spot. I let my fingers linger in that spot, and slip inside Arielle, fingers sliding in easily with how wet she is. I order her sister to steth Arielle. My fingers make its way to the same spot and again I hear it: that beautiful skip. These twins are alike in every matter, down to the exact spot. Having found both their G spots, I look at their faces and look at how even in this state, panting and a sweaty mess, their aroused face expressions are the same. They look into each other's eyes, almost like I am not in the room. I can't have that. I force my head in-between their breasts, and they instantly understand that I want them to press their hearts into my ears, let their pumps surround me. I increase the pace of my fingers, rubbing harder as I feel their hearts roar as they reach climax. The twins, absolutely lost in the arousal continue kissing each other fervently, squeezing me between their hard working hammers. I feel as their hearts squeeze hard with little time to relax, too busy with being in the moment, fighting desperately for the other. As if they wanted to merge and become one.

In that moment of heat and passion, moans loud and hearts thumping louder, the waves of pleasure take over them at the same time.

Finally, they fall limp against the wall, weak and absolutely satisfied. My hands go back to their tricuspid and I feel as their hearts, once a irregular fluttering mess, slowly stabilize and return to normal. Both synchronized, beating in time to the other.

"You get the job" I add, as steadily as I could manage and the twins beam at me.

"Of course, I will still need to hold a few more tests, if you don't mind".

They look at each other and then to me, nodding eagerly. Looks like twins really are alike in almost every way possible, I guess it wasn't just some movie cliché.

My list of hearts continues to grow.... and yet, the one heart for me is still so far away.

I miss Lea.

#female heartbeat #cardiophile #fast heartbeat #stethoscope #heartbeat fic #cardiophile story #wlw