#i do not understand why my answers are WRONG

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 5 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.8k c/w: sexual content, language, alcohol a/n: happy reading my lovelies!!

I snuggle further into Paige. We’d had a slow, lazy morning, complete with sleepy kisses and the most languid, indulgent head I’d ever received. It was now eleven in the morning, and despite already having had her head between my legs, Paige didn’t seem to want to do anything else but lay in bed.

 If I could wake up like this everyday, I would. I’m sprawled across her chest, my face turned up to press into her neck. She smells like she always does - fresh, clean, a hint of sweet vanilla. She blinks down at me, letting her lips spread into a slow grin, then leans down to kiss my forehead. 

I want to try again. I’d decided that much yesterday, perhaps against my better judgment. But it’s Paige, and when it’s her, my judgment flies out the window. I think back to her words from last night as her thumbs stroke over my bare side. How could it be wrong? How could this be a mistake? “It’s us,” she’d told me, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She’d said that to me once, too. That we were obvious. I hadn’t fully known what she’d meant then.

I understand it now, entangled in her in more ways than one, feeling that, even miles away from any place I’ve ever called home… that this must be it.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Mai?” Paige mumbles groggily. She laughs to herself, reaching up to push my hair out of my face. “Remember I used to call you Mai Tai?” I wrinkle my nose. “That shit is nasty,” I inform her. “Bro, you actually hate fun,” she complains, but it’s teasing. “The whole thing is just rum,” I mumble, burying my face further into her. “Can we get drunk together?” She wonders aloud. I frown into her skin. “Didn’t you get wasted enough last night?”

I feel her shrug, then shudder when I press a light kiss into her collarbone. “Yeah, but… I want you to come meet the girls. Or whatever.”

I tense. Ever so slightly. But she senses it, her hand immediately splaying across my back, a reassuring pressure.

Part of me thinks we should talk it out. Like, really talk it out - not just scream at each other in a parked car in the middle of the night. But the other part of me… the other part of me is thinking that I finally have her back. And it’s like I never even lost her. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to fuck this up. 

I don’t want to lose her again.

“I’d like that,” I say, bating my breath.

She kisses the top of my hair. “You’ll drink with me?” She asks. I didn’t drink a whole lot in high school, so it makes sense why she’s asking me.

I shift in her arms, looking up at her. My thumb comes up to trace her chin, ghosting over her lips. I could get used to this - skin to skin, nothing between us. No distance. No history. Just love and desire and the sweet, sweet aftertaste of a night and morning well spent. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Paige.”

Paige grins at that, her cheeks appling with the smile that envelops her face. “Oh, yeah?” She teases.

I roll my eyes, knowing where this is going, and I sit up, letting the covers fall off of me, and it’s like her eyes have been hyper-programmed to zoom into my bare chest. “Jesus Christ, dude,” she says in awe. I straddle her waist, pushing her head back slightly. “Something wrong?” I ask, cocking my head.

“Mm-mmm. Everything’s perfect, ma,” she rasps out, and it sends heat straight between my legs as her hands find my bare ass.

It’s criminal how perfect she looks in the morning. Her hair is mussed from where my hands gripped her head while she went down on me this morning, her lips plump and bitten from the lazy makeout session we’d engaged in after. Her chest and stomach are littered with purple marks I’d claimed her with last night, tits perky and perfect and just begging to be sucked.

“You talk to all the girls like that?” I ask off-handedly, but there’s not one part of me that wants to know the answer.

“What’s that, ma?” She reiterates slyly.

“I said, do you talk like this to all the other bitches you fuck?” I bite, and though I’m not trying to rile her up, I can’t help taking her tits in my hands, kneading them while I toy with her nipples. 

“Only the ones with asses like yours,” she tells me, her tone low and sultry, punctuating it with a squeeze.

I laugh at this, shaking my head at her.

“Or these tits, God,” she groans, hands coming up to cup my breasts. She kneads them slowly, coaxing small whimpers out of me as my hips buck of their own accord. Then her hand reaches up to lightly trace over my neck and I let out a small gasp. Her eyes flicker to mine. “Can I..?” I nod eagerly, and her fingers close around my neck, squeezing before trailing down. I let my head loll back. Her hand rests on my collarbones, splayed across them.

“Fucking… work of art,” she breathes, referring the the patchwork of marks she’s left across my neck and chest. It reminds me that she’s left a litany between my thighs, as well. Paige hesitates, then reaches one hand out to fumble for her phone. “You can say no,” she murmurs to me, but her eyes are blown so black when she looks at me that it hardly feels like an option.

I want her to have this. I want her to look at it when she’s in Connecticut and I’m in Michigan.

I want her to see it and remember that no one knows her like I do, that no one fucks her like I do.

I want her to get off to it, and I want it burned in the back of her eyelids the second she thinks about even touching another girl.

The steely determination of “mine, mine, all fucking mine” roars through my body as I move my hair to the side, exposing all the echoes of that same phrase she’s practically burned into my skin. 

“Do it,” I say, daring her.

I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s the way Paige’s lips part when she raises her phone camera up. Maybe it’s the breathy moan she lets out when she shifts back to get a better angle. Maybe it’s the way the bright blue of her irises are flooded with dark, dark, desire. 

But I arch my back, pushing my tits forward. I bring my finger up to my mouth, biting it while winking slyly at the camera. “Fuck, Maya,” she groans, but I’m not done. I cover my tits with my hands, my palms just over my nipples, manicured fingers splayed out, and I throw my head back. Dumbfounded, Paige snaps more pictures, the click of the camera spurring me on. 

Then I take her hand, pulling her fingers towards my mouth. I engulf three of them between my lips, covering them in my spit, licking over her rings, then guiding her hand to cup my breast. Her breath hitches, and I hold her hand there, bringing my other hand up to match it.

“Paigey,” I croon. She’s practically drooling, her eyes hooded when she meets mine. “Take the picture.”

She obeys, her chest stilling as she holds her breath. I hear the click of her camera, before her eyes slide to mine. Then she tosses her phone to the side, tugging me to her harshly.

“You’re the girl of my fucking dreams, I hope you know that,” she mutters, kissing me ravenously, hands roaming my body possessively.

“Mmmm, what are you gonna do with those pictures?” I ask.

“What do you think?” She grins, gripping my ass harshly.

“Say it,” I pant, knowing full well what she’s going to do with those pictures. But I want to hear it - no, I need to hear the admission from her mouth.

“Gonna fuck myself to them.”

“Oh, yeah?” The thought of it, of her long fingers sliding between her legs, doing to her what I do to her… it’s fucking gluttonous. 

“Gonna get off to your perfect fucking tits, you like the sound of that?” She’s instigating, borderline begging me to slot my legs between hers and just ride her.

“You wanna show me how in the shower?” I ask suggestively, placing a kiss at her jaw and then peppering them down her neck. Paige draws back, eyes wide as she stares at me.

Then she practically shoves me off the bed, pushing me towards the bathroom.

*******

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it was fine, Paige.”

“Yeah, but the way you’re saying it doesn’t seem like it’s fine, dude.”

“How would you like me to say it, Paige? Huh? Please - tell me exactly how you would like me to say it, and I’ll do that. Okay?!” I know I’m being snippy at her, and she’s apologized a hundred times, but I’ve never missed one of her basketball games. Ever. At least not one as important as a state championship.

She knew that Michigan scouts would be at this one, and though I had already signed to dance for them, this would determine my placing on the squad my freshman year. It needed to be perfect.

I needed my rock.

So when I’d looked out in the audience, and I hadn’t seen her, I’d spiraled. The panic had settled over me, and I was lucky my autopilot kicked in on stage, because internally, I was freaking out. I just needed to see her. That was all I needed, to feel the calm of her presence wash over me, to know my person was in my corner when I needed her most.

“You’re being a bitch,” she snaps.

I glower at her. “I’m the bitch? Oh, I’m the bitch now?”

She steps to me, towering over me, her breath hitting my face. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“You could’ve told me beforehand,” I seethe. “You could’ve not made me feel like an idiot for- for searching for you in the crowd when you weren’t even fucking there!”

“Just like how you’ve made me feel like an idiot these past two months?!”

“Oh, don’t even fucking start-”

“No, I’m gonna start! I’m gonna fucking start, Maya, because you have no idea the kind of hell I was living in!”

“We’re done! We’ve been done for a week!”

“Two fucking months! I had to watch her kiss you and hold you and dance with you at my fucking high school prom! Did it ever occur to you, maybe even for a second, that maybe I wanted to do all that shit? That I wanted to buy your stupid fucking corsage and match our fucking outfits and make you a dumbass poster because I’m so fucking in love with you?!”

“You… what?” My room falls silent, echoes of the argument fading away.

I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. “Paige,” I muster out. “What did you just say?”

She hesitates, eyes evading my own. “I love you,” she spits out. “Nothing I haven’t said before.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine! I’m in love with you, alright?”

I choke out a laugh, my voice still thick with tears. “You stupid idiot,” I smile affectionately. 

“The worst thing she can say is no, they said,” she mutters to herself, still avoiding my gaze.

I shake my head, opening my arms. “Come here,” I sigh, and she stalks over reluctantly.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her scent. “Are you deadass not saying it back?” She demands, and I laugh.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

*******

“You look so beautiful in my clothes,” Paige mumbles, looping her arms around my waist and placing her chin on my shoulder as I finish touching up my makeup. “You’re such a kiss-ass,” I mutter fondly. “You liiiiike it,” she sing songs into my ear. I elbow her sharply in the stomach, and she lets out a dramatic “oomph!”. “Go get ready,” I tell her, and she frowns at me in the mirror.

“My girl so mean to me,” she complains under her breath. I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters at that phrase. My girl. 

I guess I am. Her girl, that is. I hardly think I ever really stopped. 

Paige reappears in a white crop top and loose black jeans, sunglasses perched atop her head. I let out a low whistle at her in the mirror. She smirks at me. “You see something you like?” I nod, grinning mischievously. “Those glasses are sick. Can I have them?”

She scoffs at this and I edge past her out of the bathroom. “You’re such an asshole,” she complains. “That’s not what you were saying last night!” I yell back at her, digging through her closet. I pick out a stretchy, body-con black dress - one of the few really girly things Paige owns, and emerge with it in hand. 

I quickly change, pretending not to notice the heat of her eyes on me. “Stop staring, you perv,” I toss over my shoulder, slipping the dress on. “You are not all that,” she shoots back, but I know her better. I stand up straight, smoothing down the dress, and take a look in the mirror. Eh. It’ll suffice.

“Not all that?” I muse, turning to Paige. Her arms are crossed stubbornly, but her eyes trail over my body. “Delete those pictures, then.” She rolls her eyes. “Get in the damn car,” she snaps playfully, exiting her room.

Paige drives us back to Azzi’s house, blasting some absurd amalgamation of Polo G and Rod Wave. I fight her for aux, comfortably folding my feet up into the seat. It takes me back to driving back from Drew and Matt’s rec games, or late night runs to Sonic for milkshakes back in Minnesota. “You needa go home after this, or..?” I twist my mouth. “Yeah, probably,” I sigh. Her hand lands on my knee, a securing weight that flushes me with warmth. “Your mom worried?” She wonders.

“You know her,” I mumble. Surprisingly enough, once I’d told my mom I was with Paige, she seemed okay with me having been gone for almost a full 48 hours. I open my mouth, then close it, hesitating. “You can stay at mine?” I suggest. She smiles at me, her face lighting up when her eyes flit from the road to me. “Really? You’re deadass?” I suck my teeth, nodding, then point an accusing finger at her. “Don’t make this a thing.” 

“I’m not making it a thing!” She protests.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I can see it in your face. You’re making it a thing,” I grumble.

Paige sighs, moving her hand to lace her fingers with mine as we slow to a stop at a red light. She presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, deliberately holding my gaze, before pressing on the gas pedal again. 

“Only thing I’m tryna make a thing is us, ma,” she intones, her gaze straight ahead, but a triumphant little smirk ghosting at her lips. I groan, detangling our fingers and throwing her hand back to her side of the car. “Oh, my God!”

“What? That was smooth!” She laughs.

“That was so fucking corny!” I complain.

“You know, what I didn’t miss is this attitude,” she tells me, shooting me a look as she pulls into Azzi’s neighborhood. I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me a shove. 

It’s… domestic in a sense - this rhythm between us. The banter, the touches - they feel like a choreographed dance. Because there’s still no one who knows me better than her. No one knows every part of me like she does. I stare at her as she unbuckles her seatbelt, biceps tensing. 

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. She glances at me, brows furrowed. “What? It’s chill, bro, I was playing.” I smack her shoulder lightly. “Not for that,” I hiss. “For… For putting you through that. Back in high school. You deserved better. I’ve been… blaming you all this time for giving up on us.”

She’s quiet, floundering for words, so I push on. “I’m the one who started our relationship like that. I shouldn’t have… placed all those expectations on you. And… and our first time being while I was with another girl - fuck, Paige, I didn’t even give us a fighting chance. I’m sorry,” I choke the last word out, suddenly emotional at the fact that the past day could have been the past few years. 

“Hey, hey…” Paige says reassuringly. “Mai, it’s not your fault. Hey, look at me.”

Her hand cups my face, thumb brushing at my lower lash line. “We both fucked up. It’s not all on you.” I shake my head, sighing dejectedly.

“We were kids, dude. We were stupid and immature and we fucked up - I fucked up. I let you walk away, and I’ve regretted it every fucking day since. But this is… it’s forever. You have to know that.”

“Mai.”

I look at her, finally, and nod shakily. “Yeah. I do.”

She smiles softly, kissing my cheek. “Good. Let’s go inside, yeah?” And the second her hand slips into mine, my worries and insecurities fade into nothing.

Azzi’s house is raucous, Paige’s teammates’ laughter echoing off the walls over the loud music blaring in the background. There’s bottles upon bottles of every type of alcohol imaginable lined on Azzi’s counters. She hugs me tight when she sees me, smelling soft and sweet. “It’s good to see you again,” she tells me, smiling at me. I grin back at her. “You, too.”

Paige slings an arm around my shoulders. “Get my girl a drink,” she tells her teammate. Azzi rolls her eyes. “What do you want?” She asks me kindly. I loop an arm around Paige’s torso. “The exact opposite of whatever she’s having, please,” I reply, crinkling my nose. Azzi laughs when Paige looks at me and feigns offense. “I knew I liked you.” 

A few hours into the ordeal, Paige is impressed with how much I drink, and I laugh at her shock. “You forget that my school is actually good at football. This is a full-time job, baby!” I hoot, about three drinks in. Ice tilts a bottle of tequila in my direction, and I whoop, grabbing for the salt on the counter and a lime. “Fill me up!” I cheer. I feel loose and free around Paige’s friends, and even more comfortable when Paige’s hand snakes around my waist. She presses a sloppy kiss to my shoulder, and I laugh happily, patting her cheek.

“Shot, P! Come on, come on! You have to catch up!” I gesture for Ice to pour Paige one, too. She obliges. I dust salt onto the backs of our hands. Then I get it done in one fell swoop: lick off the salt, grab a lime wedge, and shoot back the tequila. I cough as it burns down my throat, sucking quickly on the lime. Paige gags behind me, gesturing for a wedge that I shove into her mouth, giggling.

I watch as her face puckers at the sudden tartness, lithe fingers pulling it from her mouth. She tips her head back, and I take the time to take in the sharp angle of her jawline. Her head lolls back down, eyes seeking and meeting mine. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us in the room, the chatter and din fading into the background.

“Hi,” I say softly. She smiles down at me. “Hey,” she replies. 

Ice coughs. “Y’all gonna fuck, or..?”

Paige splutters at her teammate, and I laugh good-naturedly, patting her arm reassuringly.

We all pile into Ayanna and Aubrey’s cars, heading to a club in Virginia Beach for the night. The strobe lights are piercing, but Paige’s hand at my waist is steadying. It’s all too good to be true - the fact that I even get to be this close to her again, the feeling of her body against mine, her hands all over me, her lips against my ear. 

I wonder, for a moment, how the hell I made it three years without this, because now that I’ve tasted it, now that I’ve had her… I can’t imagine not having her.

Being with her is like going a hundred miles an hour down a highway at midnight, standing up through the sunroof, feeling the cold wind biting at your skin and staring at the stars, thanking God that you get to be alive at the same time as something so goddamn beautiful.

And you’re so delirious and happy and you’re going so fucking fast… you don’t even see the crash coming. 

I sure don’t.

I’m drunk, falling against Paige, and she’s laughing, steadying me. “You good, ma? Can I get you some water?” She yells into my ear. I loop my arms around her neck. “My girl is sooooo good to me,” I slur, smiling stupidly. She matches my goofy expression. “Say that again!” She calls.

I laugh, throwing my head back happily. “My girl!” I yell gleefully, and Paige presses me to her. Her lips find my ear again, and she says, “Come on. Time for water.” Then she places the sweetest kiss on my temple, and my heart just about bursts. I let her guide me to the bar, slumping onto a bar stool while she goes off to hunt for water.

I focus on the spinning lights above me, watching them change colors. I’m so drunk and distracted that I must watch them spin for ten minutes. Maybe an hour? Fuck, maybe I’ve been here all night. 

Shit, I think dizzily. Paige must be worried.

I should find her.

I stumble through the bar, my legs wobbling. My head pounds from the music and the alcohol, and I’m so drunk that I really think I must be imagining what I see next.

It’s Paige.

There’s some girl with her. I think for a moment that she’s far too short to be any of Paige’s teammates, and that none of them are redheads.

Then the girl places a hand on Paige’s chest. I’m frozen in place, watching it all unfold, feeling my heart clench and then shatter to fucking smithereens as the girl stands on her tiptoes.

And she kisses her.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk #paige bueckers smut

[mandarinmoons]

ONE HUG is all i ask for 😭

i am incoherent when i cry. i need him to hold me in his arms while i sob just hold me close and listen to me tell him all my troubles and worries

can this count as a request? like they’re coworkers and something idk what happened on a case that triggered reader to just completely breakdown

hate to be dramatic (ha actually it’s my favorite thing to be) but i’d trust later seasons Spencer with my whole life and i’d be the most grateful girl in the world if you wrote this i swear i’d never take anything for granted again

no pressure though my ketty kat

thank you bbygirl 😔🙏

A suspect in your latest case had been arrested and you were the one asked to question him. During the interview the suspect managed to flip the script and started asking questions from you. You tried your best to keep a straight face and lead the conversation back to the interview, but some of the things he said struck a nerve with you and you excused yourself.

You walked out of the room, took a deep breath and quickly walked to a vacant office so that no one could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Reaching an empty office you grabbed the handle with your shaky hands to open it, but alas it was locked. You kept trying to budge to see if it was possibly stuck, but it wasn’t. 

A moment later you heard your name being called and you quickly wiped the tears from your eyes. Turning around you saw Spencer jog up to you and look at you worryingly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just needed a minute alone.”

“Your eyes are red.”

You looked down to hide your face, but that didn’t work with Spencer. He took your hand and guided you back to an empty office.

“What’s really going on?”

Knowing Spencer, he wouldn’t let you be until you told him what was wrong. It wasn’t the first time he pulled you aside when he noticed you looked a bit out of it and every time he was very sweet and understanding, so why hide it?

“Well the unsub, or well the guy we think is the unsub, he ended up turning the questions I asked him on me and um…” the tears gathered around your eyes again and your voice turned shaky.

Spencer’s protective instincts kicked in and immediately pulled you against his chest, one hand on the small of your back while the other one held your head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks and sobs racked through your body as Spencer held you and comforted you, his hold on you getting stronger as your hands gripped his shirt.

Slowly but surely your cries calmed down but Spencer’s hold on you was still as firm as before, he wasn’t going to let you go until he knew you were alright.

As you rested your head on Spencer’s chest his hand ran through your hair, his touches feeling so feather light that you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment.

You looked up at him through your lashes and saw his eyes shining down on you, this man was always going to be concerned about you.

“Thanks Spence.”

Spencer smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “Feeling any better?”

“A lot better yeah,” you nodded and lifted your head. Spencer’s hand still rested on your back, his thumb caressing it slightly making you feel goosebumps go up your arms.

“I’m going to take over the questioning. I don’t want you to get upset again.”

“Spencer, it's fine. I was just being emotional, I’ve-,”

“I do not want you to cry again,” Spencer’s jaw seemed tense and it looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, all you could do was nod and accept it.

Spencer brought you close again for a hug and this time it seemed more personal, his lips rested against your forehead and your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest when you felt him press a light kiss to it.

“Go rest at your desk now, I’ve got this.”

Both of you walked out of the office and Spencer took you to your desk, making sure that you were sitting and not going back to do the interview. He looked back at you while walking away and you felt your heart stop again.

Half an hour later Spencer walked out of the interrogation room and announced that the man had confessed and he’d been arrested. His first thought was to come over and check up on you so he strode through the halls to find you still sat at your desk.

“How’d it go?”

“He confessed.”

“That’s good,” Spencer nodded and walked over to you.

“Your cheeks are still a bit red.”

“Yeah, they’ll go away soon don’t worry,” you chuckled and seeing you smile made Spencer smile as well. 

Your eyes met for a moment but it was cut short by Spencer clearing his throat.

“I should go, I have some paperwork to finish up,” Spencer was about to turn around, but you took a hold of his hand before he had a chance to.

“Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

You both shared a smile and Spencer moved on to his work, unbeknownst to you that he was hiding a smile and slightly flushed cheeks on the walk back to his desk.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs

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#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid x gn! reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[lunajay33]

Lost Part.2

•🗝️🕊️🩶•

Summary: Carl Grimes was your best friend since birth, when he died the world turns grey, he was your partner in crime so you shut yourself off from the world, no one could get through, until one day you’re wondering Alexandria seeing Negan in his cell, maybe he could be the one to break you out of this hell

Pairing: Negan Smith x f!reader

Content: Age gap, Depressing themes, Consoling, Spicy themes later on, breeding kink, character development

Part.1

•Masterlist•

After Michonne caught me having a moment with Negan, she told Daryl and now they’re ripping me a new one, I’ve never felt like I disappointed anyone more but I can’t help how I feel towards Negan, I don’t get to chose how I feel

Daryl and Michonne are pacing back and forth in the living room in front of me as I’m sat on the couch waiting for their outburst

“Damn kid what the hell were ya thinking? Ya know what he’s done” Daryl groaned

“I’m going to chalk this up to you trying to distract yourself from Carls death but…..”

“DON’T!” I cut Michonne off feeling that rage

“Y/n…..”

“Don’t talk about him, and don’t tell me how to feel, you don’t understand how I feel, Negan does….he’s helping me, I don’t feel extremely depressed when I talk to him, I thought I’d get better eventually but it’s been 2 months, hell Maggie got herself together quicker than this after Glenn, I don’t know what’s wrong with me” I feel my bottom lip wobble again hating the disappointed look

“Why can’t you let us help? Daryl’s tried, do you want Maggie to come back maybe she could talk some sense into you, see the reason why she doesn’t have Glenn anymore” Michonne huffed before she stomped out the house slamming the door

“I don’t like ya talking to him but…….i can’t watch ya go through this anymore, if yer just talking to him and it helps do it, just be careful sunshine” Daryl said more gently as he rubs my back

“Thanks D, I’m just gonna go to my room” I say defeated but at least Daryl was sort of on board, thankfully Michonne never brought up what she caught me and Negan doing, if so Daryl would’ve probably marched down to his cell and beat him black and blue

It’s been a week since everything happened, the first day after I got up to go see him and right as I got to his cell Michonne dragged me back to the house, she wasn’t as keen as Daryl was, I tried again the next day and the same thing happened, see even got Rick involved so now I’m basically under house arrest, by the third day I could feel that darkness seep back in, I continued to stay in my room, Daryl would occasionally bring me food and water just like now

“Hey kid, ya hungry?” He asks as he sits on the edge of my bed with a sandwich and glass of water

I nod feeling too tired to even speak, this was way out of character for Michonne, sure she could be a hard ass but this…..this was too much

“They still won’t let ya leave?” My silence answered his question hearing him sigh

“It’s happening again isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Negan was helping for a bit, I can’t think of anything else except Carl when I’m locked up in here” I say looking at the letter that I have placed on the night stand, he followed my gaze taking it and reading it

“Ya can’t keep reminding yourself of this over and over”

“I….i didn’t even get to say goodbye”

“Would seeing his grave help?”

I didn’t even know he had a grave, no one even told me but maybe seeing it and talking could help resolve something that’s been missing

“I know this might be a long shot but could I take Negan? Would you be able to convince Rick just for the day to let him out?”

He watched me for a bit with that look I can never decipher what he’s thinking

“I’ll try but I ain’t promising nothing, now come on I’ll walk ya to the cell”

I ate my sandwich on the walk to Negan and of course when we got there Michonne and Rick tried to stop me

“I’m telling ya Rick let her go, ya haven’t seen what I seen, she needs this” as they are arguing I slip past them down to Negans cell

“Hey” I call catching his attention

“Long time no see darlin”

“I’m sorry, if you can hear them you’ll know they’ve been keeping me under house arrest, I tried to come see you but…”

“I know, I heard everytime Michonne tried to stop you, I missed our talks though, I can see you have too”

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation last time, it’s partially been keeping me sane all locked up”

“Can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind baby, but you know I’d never use you right, I ain’t sick like that”

“I know, you’re different now hell I’m different now, I just wish you weren’t in this cell I’m working on it”

“What do you mean?”

“Daryl said I could go to Carls grave, I didn’t even know he had one until today, I asked if I could take you out for the day since I don’t feel judged with you, obviously only if you wanted, he said he’s gonna try to work something out”

“Oh sweetheart, you got a good heart but are you sure you want me out with you?”

“You don’t have to”

“No I want to, I wanna be there for you”

Just being here for a few moments have lifted that weight off my chest

Later that night everyone went to bed early and they left my door unlocked so I sneak out as quietly as possible, quickly making my way down the block to Negans cell and he was still wide awake, I unlock his cell and sit next to him his arms immediately wrapping around me

I sigh in relief to be able to touch him again, to feel his warmth, he moved me around so I’m partially laid against his chest and lap as he sat back against the brick wall playing with my fingers

“Have you tried anything since our conversation last week?” He asks breaking the silence my body feeling on fire instantly

“I still don’t know how”

“Want me to show you baby?” I look up at him feeling my legs tingle

“You’d do that?”

“I’d love it, you need to unwind, forget about your problems for a moment”

“Please, please help me forget” I whine feeling his hand rub up and down my thigh

“My pleasure” he smirks as he plays with the hem of my pants before pushing his hand fully down basically grasping my pussy

“Look at that baby girl, already wet and I’ve barely done anything” I can feel my face redden

“This is so embarrassing” I mumble hearing him laugh

“Nah baby, this is hot as hell, you’re being such a good girl” his praise eased me

His fingers circled my clit making me jolt it felt so foreign, everytime I’ve tried it’s felt like nothing but his strong hands touching me was so much more than I could imagine

“Oh god” I whine as he gets faster pushing me closer to the edge

“You like that angel? Do I make you feel good?” He teased as he grips my hair with his other hand

“Yes Negan! Oh it’s too much fuck” I gasp when he moves his hand down and enters a finger then another stretching me a bit with his big long fingers

“You okay darling?” He asks as he continues to finger me at a slow pace, doing a come here motion hitting a spot I’ve never felt before

“Woah, that feels…….oh god that feels different”

“Different good?” He goes a bit faster making me see stars as my head slumps against his chest

“So good, why does it feel better when you do it” I whine

“Cause I know how to please ya, this tight pussy just need a good man to clear your head, fix all your worries”

Something was building low in my stomach, it felt so weird but good but also like I was gonna lose control

“Negan wait I’m gonna…” but he kept going

“No baby it’s alright I’ve got you, let it go” his thumb came up to rub my clit again and I instantly let go feeling his hand wrap around my mouth as I let out a intense scream my sight going white, my pants felt soak as I came back down to earth laying limp in his arms

“Fuck baby, that was hot as fuck, you’re dripping” I sat up realizing what just happened, I look at him as he sucks his fingers clean making me hot all over again

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I told you something was happening now I made a mess and my pants are full of piss, I have to go” I turn to leave completely embarrased when I feel his arms wrap around me from behind

“Oh baby, you’re so damn cute, that’s normal and it’s so damn sexy, you just came all over my fingers and let me tell you, you taste like heaven” he whispers in my ear as I turn in his arms

“Are you sure this is normal…….it did feel really good couldn’t see for a second” he smirks gripping my hips

“If you think that was good baby, wait till I give you this dick, you’ll be begging for more after”

“Can we now?” I beg as I push him back on the bed straddling his hips

“As much as I’d love to destroy this pussy, I ain’t taking your virginity in some grimy cell where everyone can see and hear us”

“Okay, but what about you I can feel how hard you are, I can help” I say grinding down on him moaning as I feel his bulge rub against my sensitive clit

“Not tonight, tonight was about you”

“Well if I can’t help…..can I atleast see it?” I ask biting my finger aching to see his dick

“You ever see one before?” He asks laughing

“No please I wanna see it” I pull on his belt slowly undoing it waiting for him to stop me but he never does, unbuttoning his pants, we both stand so I can pull his pants down to his thighs, playing with the hem of his boxers

“Go ahead darling, he ain’t going to bite” he says gripping my hair, I pull them down seeing it smack against his stomach and my knees felt like jelly again, it was so big and thick it was mouth watering

“You like what you see”

“Can I touch it” I look up at him seeing his eyes were blown with lust

“Go ahead baby” I run my finger up the bottom till I reach the tip and circle it my finger wet with liquid, I bring it up and lick it and it tastes so good I want more hearing him groan as I do it

“Fuck you know what you just did?”

I shake my head I feel so clueless with all this

“God you’re going to be the death of me” I push him back down on the bed again and kneel between his legs

“Please I want more let me lick it”

“God how can I say no to that”

I lean down flicking my long over the tip tasting him again but I need more, I’ve heard others talk about blow jobs and this must be it, I take him in my mouth circling my tongue around hearing him hiss I look up but her looks like he’s enjoying it as he runs his hands through my hair

I take more of him in my mouth till he hits the back of my throat but I keep going till my nose is flush to his stomach moaning when I finally fit him in

“Jesus Christ baby” his moans drive me insane, I move my head up and down as his groans get more and more louder till I feel a warm liquid fill my mouth it’s surprises me, I lean back on my legs looking up at him with a mouth full of his cum, I swallow it feeling like ecstasy

“Was that your first time cause god damn woman I ain’t ever had my dick sucked like that”

“I want more, god Negan I could get addicted to this” he lets out a low laugh as he tucks his dick back in his boxers

“Oh baby what have I unleashed”

Taglist: @lanadelnegan @lvrgirl6999 @aubiewabie33 @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @sadgenderfluidmaniac @aleemendoza2425-blog @donniedarkosblog @itsmytimetoodream @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @negandevotee

#twd fanfiction #twd daryl #negan x y/n #negan x you #negan smut #negan #negan smith #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan smith series #negan smith smut #negan smith x y/n #negan smith x you #negan smith x reader #twd x reader

[calaisreno]

The Case of the Missing Bridegroom

The sequel to Reluctant Bridegroom. 1700 words / Prompt: Cold

Summary: Mrs Hudson does not make tea, Mycroft speaks in italics, and Sherlock goes for a walk.

Mrs Hudson is frowning at him; he gradually becomes aware that she’s been talking. 

Blinking, he looks up. “Hm?”

“I said, do you like her?”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“Oh, yes. She’s great. Are you making tea?”

Ignoring his implied request, she continues. “She seems clever.”

“Clever? Yes, she is. Quite.” 

…only child linguist Clever part time nurse Shortsighted Guardian Bakes Own Bread Disillusioned Cat Lover Romantic Appendix Scar Lib Dem Secret Tattoo Size 12 Liar…

Liar. 

That might be where to begin his investigation.

“Sherlock.” She clicks her tongue. “You must have known.”

“Known? What are you jabbering about, Mrs Hudson?”

“You must have known he’d move on while you were gone.”

He doesn’t have an answer for this. 

“He’s just that kind of person,” she adds.

“The moving on kind?”

“No, he’s the staying kind, but you left. What was he supposed to do? He thought you were dead.”

Sherlock puts his head down and mumbles incoherently. Maybe she will take the hint and make tea. And bring up some biscuits as well. 

“Sherlock.” She sits in John’s chair. “He’s not like you, love. Not a loner. He needs someone. He had you, and when you died—”

“He didn’t have me, Mrs Hudson. We weren’t like that.”

She gives him the look that means he’s an idiot. “Maybe not, but there was something there. And John needed that. He was lost without you. I’m sure he wouldn’t have found Mary if you’d come home a bit sooner.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be very happy.”

She makes a scoffing noise. “You know that’s not true.”

He scoffs back at her. “As I understand it, people who are engaged to be married often go through a period of regret. Cold feet, it’s called. Fear of change. A reluctance to follow through. He’ll get over it.”

“Will he?” 

Before Mrs Hudson can explain to him why he’s wrong, his phone buzzes with a text.

John’s missing. M

It takes him just a second to realise it’s Mary.  

He never came home last night. Won’t answer my texts. M

 I’ll find him. SH

Liar. He opens his phone and begins to type a message. Before he can hit send, his phone rings.

“He’s not an idiot, Sherlock.”

“Where is he, Mycroft? I know you have surveillance on him. What I want to know is why?”

“Let’s just say, he’s attracted the attention of someone we’ve been watching. You need not worry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mycroft, I’m not in the mood for—”

“Miss Morstan. What do you know about her?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you know? As I recall, you said you’d keep Moriarty’s London people away from him.”

“She’s not one of Moriarty’s. Just a freelancer, recently retired.”

“When were you going to tell me? More importantly, when were you going to tell John?”

“Doctor Watson is not an idiot, as I’ve said. His decision to propose to her was rash, I thought, but I’m fairly sure he’s having cold feet since you have returned.”

Mycroft speaks in italics only when he’s amused, Sherlock notes. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I think you can deduce,” Mycroft replies. 

I must be getting slow, he thinks. He’s just been to all the places John used to go when he ‘needed some air’ and slammed the door of the flat behind him. He’s been to five pubs, popped into three coffee shops, and walked the perimeter of the park twice.

Home again, he sits on the stairs, conceding defeat. 

His phone rings. 

“Mycroft.”

“It’s very simple, Sherlock. He’s gone home.”

He nods. It would have been nice if Mary had texted to say—

“Home, Sherlock.”

His head jerks up. Ending the call, he runs up the two flights to John’s room. He knocks and cracks the door open. “John?”

The shape in the bed stirs, rolls over and blinks at him. “Sherlock?”

“John, what are you doing here?”

“Needed to think.” He sits up. “Went around the park a few times last night after I left. More than a few. Decided to sleep here.”

Sherlock steps into the room. When John lived here, Sherlock rarely respected his privacy, barging into the room at any hour. Now, it feels like an invasion. 

“May I?”

John nods, and Sherlock sits on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“You always told me I see but do not observe. I’m a bit slow, but I did actually learn a few things living with you.” He smiles. “After you died, I could barely cope. I sleepwalked through every day. And then, you came back, and it was like I woke up.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be so affected.”

“I believe you. As angry as I’ve been, I have forgiven you. Since you came back, I’ve been awake. And I’ve noticed things… that disturb me.”

“What things?”

“In the cab going home that night, Mary kept talking, and I just had this feeling… she wasn’t who she said she was. So I did what you would do. I investigated. I called her job references. I looked up her employment history. I went through her things when she was out. And I made a deduction.”

“Yes?”

“I think you already know, Sherlock. Mary didn’t exist until a couple years ago. I don’t know who the woman I’m engaged to is, but Mary Morstan was an infant who died in 1972. Stillborn. She’s borrowed a name, made a new life. And for some reason, she took a job at my surgery.” He looks at Sherlock. “Maybe she has a good reason, but my spidey-senses are tingling.”

“Spidey-senses?”

“Spider Man. He can always sense danger.”

“Well, you always did. You knew whenever I was getting myself into trouble. So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“You should know, Mycroft’s people have been watching her. She’s freelance, recently retired. It might not be good to confront her with what you know. She may feel cornered, and that could be dangerous.”

“Not that truth, Sherlock. I don’t need to know who she is, but I’m not going to marry her.”

“But… what reason will you give?”

“I’ll tell her…” John looks down at his hands, licks his lips, and whispers, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

“You’re in love with Mike Stamford? Inconvenient, as he’s married and has four—no, five children.”

“Mike is not my best friend.”

“Gavin?”

“Who?”

“Gavin Lestrade.”

“Sherlock, Greg is a friend, but not my best friend. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. You’re— I see. You will pretend you’re in love with me, which will soften the blow and allow her to bow out without compromising her assumed identity—”

“Sherlock, I’m not pretending I’m in love with you. I really am in love with you. I know you don’t do that—love is a dangerous distraction, sentiment on the losing side, blah, blah… That’s okay. If you’ll let me, I’d like to move back here. I not asking for—”

He doesn’t remember grabbing John and kissing him, but when his brain comes back on line, they’re lying on John’s bed, and John’s looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

John loves him.

“I won’t pretend,” he tells John. “No fake relationships. If you’re going to make love confessions like that, just casually dropping I love yous on me, you’d better be prepared for the real thing. I love you. And just so you understand me properly, only one bedroom will be needed.”

John laughs. “Well, that went better than I expected. Now I only have to break up with Mary.”

Sitting up, Sherlock grabs his phone and texts Mycroft. “The British Government can handle that, I think. Now, kiss me.”

@keirgreeneyes @totallysilvergirl @redmondcollege @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie

#mayprompts2024 #my fics #johnlock

[alwachart]

On Raphael and fandom discourse

I grow tired of writing the same thing every now and then when this topic comes up yet again, so I’m going to write my thoughts on one post and be done with it for good.

Here are my thoughts on “Raphael is bad in bed” discourse: when people with zero reading comprehension try to pass their loud take as canon. This is an analysis on fandom claiming “it's canon” and why it actually isn't.

For the devil’s sake let’s do this orderly, I believe he’d like that.

So these are the lines you get when you bed Haarlep and ask about Raphael’s performance. From here you can continue the game without killing Haarlep (let’s imagine we do this first) and use this information to mock Raphael, which results in you getting this line of dialogue lather when he he says “It’ll only take a moment to finish you”

This is an “I have a single incel brain cell” type of joke that forces Tav/durge to interpret a laugh and a “no” like a 15 year old incel guy roaming 4chan would. People are using it to say Raphael is a “two pump chump”and I…don’t get it. Maybe I’m too old for this fandom, who knows, but the way I see it this sentence is rooted in a fragile masculinity view on the issue of “bad s*x”. As a pan woman who has relations with any gender, it never crossed my mind that he was quick to finish when I heard the laugh and no, it didn’t because that's not what bad s*x is about. Believing so comes from a penis-centric interpretation, as if a pp is something necessary for pleasure during s*x, which it isn't, and how long you can use it as a measure of it, which again it isn't. The only person who needs a pp to feel pleasure during intercourse is the person who owns one. All in all, a very puerile and obviously wrong take. 

Real bad s*x lacks pleasure, it's icky, painful even, it makes your skin crawl and your insides twist. Best case scenario it is just boring and you’ll never see them again. So no, I don't think Raphael is “a two pump chump”, and I can say this isn't canon because nowhere in the game the dialogue states that as truth. It's an immature joke that's pushed on the player dialogue and fans fall for it like flies on honey. This aggressive rhetoric from a sector of the fandom is the only thing that makes it feel canon and has people claiming it is, repeating the line “bad in bed, bottom two pump chump” as often as you hear “cycle of abuse, Caz 2.0” in another corner of the fandom we all know very well. All because players lack critical thinking, life experience, a s*xual life or are simply too plain to understand the nuances of language and syntax.

On to the next line, because we not only have fragile masculinity here but also, you guessed it, homophobia! Yay!

This is the one that makes people say he’s a bottom. Oh boy, do I have things to say about this. Let’s start with a bit of syntax work!

To be on top or beneath: 

Here no one is talking about being a top/bottom, but rather where two bodies are positioned in a plane that works by the law of universal gravitation. It discloses zero information about pp placement of either one

Below, never on top, never: 

Listen, this is actually a rather homophobic take!! People jump to call Raphael a bottom in milliseconds as if 1- it’s something bad he should be mocked for, which even if he was…it isn’t, and as if 2- Haarlep said he's a bottom instead of what he actually says: that Raphael is physically under him when they have fun, well, when Raphael has fun, you know what I mean!

That’s it folks, there’s no more to it, nothing more deep to read between the lines. There’s no more lines. Any take saying “Raphael is a bottom” simply comes from people lacking reading comprehension and having juvenile minds.

So, the answer questions everyone is making over and over, is Raphael bad in bed? Is he a bottom? The answer is: we don’t know, but what we do know is Haarlep doesn’t enjoy s*x with him, they always f*ck with Raphael being a lazy mf beneath him (can’t blame him, I’d let the incubus do all the work and take my form too, double pleasure? Fyeah). Him being a bottom is fanon. Nothing bad in picturing a fictional character like one if it brings you joy, but If you keep saying it’s canon over and over you’re only ridiculing yourself and exposing the views you have on the topics mentioned above (masculinity and homophobia) for the world to see.

Make yourself a favour and maybe go read some books, educate yourself and expand your vocabulary a bit. Also if you're inexperienced maybe ask a varied group of people what they consider to be “bad in bed” before using your imagination, the answers might surprise you! I promise you'll see the word in a different manner once you do!

#fandom discourse #bg3 fandom #my unfiltered opinion #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #haarlep #raphael x haarlep #I'm not going to reply so don't bother #not starting an argument here #only gathering my thoughts in one single post #I wrote them once and I'm done with it #too old for this shit #I'm sure some will think I write this because I'm into domRaphael lol #such simple minds people have

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt.5

First chapter, Previous chapter, Next chapter

A/N: Get ready for some angst baby. So this is my first time writing something close to angsty. Which means I might not have completely perfected it yet. Then again there needs to be a first for everything. I hope you enjoy reading, and if you do, please let me know. My reqs are also open if people have any ideas they want to see written.

WC: 2,7K

Tags: Mild angst, conflicting feelings, a little hurt/comfort?, alt reader, realizing feelings, I don’t think this chapter is considered fluff. 

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, feeling alone, hinting at past relationships?

Spencer POV

It was Thursday afternoon when Spencer had returned from a case. It was short, quick, which was nice because he wanted to go back to you. He had tried to call while away, to text you when he had time. Yet for some reason you hardly responded. You were slow to answer texts, the answers always short and quick. You had avoided his calls, when you did pick up they were equally as short as your texts. The tone was distant and a little cold. It was strange to him. The date had gone well, in his opinion, and he didn’t think he had done anything wrong. It was just a little nerve wracking. With every short message, every cut off call, his anxiety grew.

When they got back to Quantico, he was ready to head straight to your lab. Though he noticed there was no music when he arrived there, it was quiet inside. Too quiet. He gently knocked on the frosted glass door. There was no sound from inside, no light coming through the door. No indication that you were there. His shoulders sagged down, a little deflated. He had been looking forward to seeing you again, even if it was just to settle his own nerves. His hand found the cellphone in his pocket, he scrolled through the names until he found yours. Pressing the call button, he just really wanted to hear your voice. Needing to know if you were okay, if he hadn’t done something wrong. The phone rang, 3 times, heart beating out of his chest before you picked up.

“Hello, Y/N’s phone! Penelope speaking.” The familiar voice of their technical analyst sounded from the other end of the phone. Spencer furrowed his brow a little, “Hey, it’s Spencer… Is she with you?” He asked, his left hand holding on to the bottom edge of his sweater. “Oh! Spence! She just headed to the toilet, she should be back soon. Want me to take a message?” Penelope answered, her voice chipper, she probably didn’t know you had been avoiding him. Or if she did she didn’t let it show. “Can I come talk to her?” He asked, still a bundle of nerves, the bad kind. The one where a nauseous feeling settles in your stomach. Where every word could send him into a spiral if it was said with the wrong tone. “Ofcourse, I am sure you have a lot to talk about.” Penelope spoke, and he could tell there was something in her voice. She knew what was going on. It made his stomach sink further. 

Just like that his feet started moving already towards Penelope’s office. “Thanks, I’ll be there in a minute.” Spencer said and quickly hung up before anything she could say would make it worse. He was quick, hoping to be there before you came back, so you couldn’t avoid him. He was there in a minute, like he had said, quickly and almost feverishly knocking on the door. The rapid rap of his knuckles against the solid wood sounded hollow in his ears. Penelope opened, trying to put on a bubbly smile. Though he peered past her to see if you were already back. No sign yet. “Hey, you should come in.” Penelope opened the door wider and he stepped past her. “Has she said anything? About me?” Spencer’s question felt weird. He didn’t want to come across as clingy, or that he was obsessed, but he just had to understand why. Why had you been avoiding him?

“Slow down boy wonder. I think I am not the one to tell you about that.” Penelope answered as she closed the door, pointing towards one of the desk chairs. Spencer hadn’t noticed how he had been nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet until she did. He sat down, trying to regain some composure. “Did I do something wrong? I thought the date went well. Maybe I rambled too much… That's usually what happens. I should have just stayed quiet, listened to her.” He rambled off nervously, his mind spiraling back to when he had leaned in and told a fact when you had been expecting something completely different. But you had kissed him after that, twice, it was so conflicting. Confusing. Paradoxical. 

“Breathe!” Penelope urged, grabbing one of her many mugs with water and forcing it into Spencer’s hands. He took a gulp, hoping it would calm his nerves but it didn’t do anything. At Least he was silent. “Just…” Penelope sighed, “I can tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” Spencer nodded his head, taking another swig of the lukewarm water. He hoped it hadn’t been out for too long, who knew what bacteria were growing if it had. Though the idea of it was a mere whisper in the back of his mind as his entire consciousness was taken up by his worried thoughts. “I should have told you before, I really should have but I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly.” Penelope sounded dejected. “What happened? Just tell me, please?” He didn’t like how whiny that please sounded, how desperate it made him sound. Even though he was desperate for answers. 

The door to Penelope’s office opened, “Honestly Pen, I don’t get why you have to be so far away from the b-” You stopped your sentence as your eyes met Spencer. He was desperately clinging on to the cup he was holding like it was his life line. “Hi…” was all he managed to say when he saw you. Even with all the conflicting feelings, your appearance still left him a little tongue tied. You weren’t wearing the lab coat, so he could fully appreciate your appearance. The black and red patterned dress was cut low, and hugged your hips and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your arms are covered with fishnet fabric, some parts more ripped up to create a few larger holes. More important to him was the belt, two clips extending to hold the hem, hiking up the skirt of your dress to show off just a sliver of your thigh. “Spencer.” The way you said his name still made his heart race. He got up from his chair, placing the mug back on Penelope’s desk. The blonde in question nudged you, Spencer could almost see the thoughts swimming behind your eyes. You must be just as nervous as he is. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Penelope said, quickly walking out the door of her own space, leaving the two of you there. Spencer’s heart was beating so loud, he could feel the blood rush under the skin of his hands. It was too silent as you both looked at eachother. 

“I want to-” “Why didn’t you-” Both of you spoke at the same time, breaking through the silence. There was a slight, awkward, chuckle that left Spencer. “You can go first.” He said, wringing his hands together involuntarily. “I want to apologize…” You said it softly. Spencer’s eyes flicked down to your right hand, twisting in the fabric of your dress. Your left was steadily turning a ring on your finger. Everything you did screamed nervous to him. “What for?” He asked, eyes focussed on you. He wanted to see everything, piece together every unconscious movement that would give away a deeper meaning. “For being a bit absent. I just… had a lot of work.” Lie. That was a lie. Spencer could see it. The way you averted your eyes, how your hand stilled in the twisting of the ring, your breathing hitched up as you said the last part of your sentence. Everything pointed to it being a lie. He hated that he could see that.

You felt the need to lie to him. To temper his feelings by trying to explain away what had really happened. There were tens of thousands of thoughts swimming through his mind about what could have happened. Did you meet someone else? Or realize he wasn’t your type. The differences being too big to make it work. “Could you tell me the truth?” He didn’t mean for that to come out. Especially when he saw the surprise in your eyes. “I am. I was busy, I had a lot of evidence to sort through, drugs, nail scrapings. I also had the reports to write and- and-” You were trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. That hurt. Apparently you didn’t want him to know the real reason. “Y/N. I am a behavioral analyst, I can tell when you lie. Please just… don’t? I want to know what happened, I thought we had a good time at the museum. I just, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to, and I can’t change it if you don’t tell me.” He was pleading now. Eyes on you as you looked for an answer, lips slightly parted as you breathed out. Taking a step closer, reaching out his hand to yours. Just to hold it in his, feel you, decide if this was either a bad nightmare or a terrible reality. 

When Spencer felt your hand in his he closed his eyes for a moment. This was real. He opened his eyes again, the only focus was on yours. Waiting. Watching to see your response. “Spencer, it wasn’t anything you did. Trust me. You did nothing wrong, it was perfect, and I wish I could have stayed in that museum forever.” You spoke, not averting your gaze, looking him in the eye with full confidence. Not even a tremor in your voice. That was the truth.

“Then what happened? I don’t like that you’re ignoring me. It feels like just the entire pit of my stomach gave out. Did I move too fast? I’m not good with these things. But I really, really, like you. You do all these things to me. Just… I can’t take the silent treatment. Not from you.” There it was with a sigh. His feelings, out in the open. Hoping it was enough for you to tell him what happened. Instead, you looked sorrowful, eyes almost glossy with what he realized were tears. “I really am sorry. I need time for something. I can’t talk about it now, I don’t want to pull you down with me. I will tell you afterwards, okay?” Your voice did nothing to soothe the pain of rejection he felt. Even though he so wished to believe you. You were hurt too and he didn’t understand why. Because you were the one pushing him away.

Spencer nodded his head dejectedly, a soft sniffle leaving him as he tried to not let the emotions overwhelm him. All the anxiety had left and was replaced by the cold, empty feeling of rejection. His nerve endings were no longer on edge, instead they were rather numb. “I’ll eh… I will go. Leave you to whatever you need to do.” His voice didn’t really sound like his own to him. Like he was running on autopilot and it was a preprogrammed recording. He let go of your hand, taking a deep breath, before he walked to the door. His hand was on the door knob when you called his name, when he looked over his shoulder at you you looked just as dejected. Your lips parted, like you wanted to say something, closing again, opening again. He could see you looking for the right words, but there were none. His lips formed an awkward, tight smile and he nodded. “Text me when you want to talk.” He said before leaving the room.

Closing the door with a hollow sound he took just a few steps before Penelope approached him. “What happened? Are you okay?” her voice concerned and laced with just a little pity. He didn’t need pity right now. He didn’t want to be around anyone. “Could you tell Hotch I need a personal day?” His question got a frantic nod in return. Clearly she understood it wasn’t something good that happened just now. “Yeah, yeah of course. Need anything else?” She answered, trying to be the good friend he always knew she was. He shook his head no, “I just need time.” He spoke softly before walking over to his desk. There was no comment from Derek, just a slight sympathetic look. He hated that.

Grabbing his bag and his jacket he quickly made himself ready to leave. JJ tried to stop him, files in hand ready to ask a question when he ducked his head and continued on. Not willing to talk right now he stepped on the elevator and pressed to go down. Walking out the door and straight to his car in the garage. When he finally reached his car and sat down it all hit him. His stomach felt heavy yet empty, but also like it was twisted in knots. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm down a little, tears threatening to spill behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly to push them back. There was no need for tears. You went on one date, he shouldn’t be this attached, yet he is. From the moment he had entered your lab he had been awestruck. Then, in the following week, he had started rambling and feared he had messed up by doing so. Yet you just smiled, asked more questions, let him ramble and rant about everything and anything. Content to hear him speak. He didn’t feel like an annoyance.

Spencer sighed, putting his key in the ignition and turning it, the song that came on was still on the same radio station that you had put it on, depeche mode sounding through the speakers. Quickly, his hand reached out, changing the station to anything else. Not wanting to be reminded of you immediately. He pulled out of the parking lot, driving home, a welcome distraction from his thoughts. When he got home though, he felt completely drained. Placing his bag near the front door, dropping the jacket over it. Toeing off his shoes before walking further into the apartment. He sat down on the couch. Once again alone with his thoughts. He leaned his head back, resting it against the top of the couch as he closed his eyes again. Rubbing his eyes with another sigh.

He wondered what it could be. What the reason for your coldness was. The fact that you seemed reluctant about it just made it weirder. He cursed himself for being able to read your expressions, your movements, to deduct anything from your behavior. He wished he didn’t know because it would have made it so much easier to be angry with you. To feel betrayed, led on, or even used. Instead he knew that you were just as torn up about what happened as he was. It made it feel even worse. He knew there was a reason, but the fact you were not willing to tell him hit the wrong nerve. Eyes opened on the ceiling, the faded green color perfect to get lost in. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Head tilted back, looking at the ceiling as his mind was both working over time and thinking of nothing. A weird combination of feeling too full yet completely empty. Watching the shadows stretch further and further, slowly fading until there were no longer any shadows cast on his ceiling. It was just dark. 

That’s what it was like. The night taking over the sunny feeling he had felt. An end coming to the light he had felt for the past two weeks. The nocturnal cold setting into his body. How he hated the realization that dawned on him that moment. He didn’t just like you. He had fallen all at once, during that first meeting, without realizing. Now it was too late to tell you. He doubted you even felt the same. So now he was left to suffer the heartbreak on his own. To deal with the conflicting emotions you left him with. 

At least the night was quiet enough for him to think.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444 @queermaxwooo @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #alt reader #goth reader #she blinded me with science #tumblr writer #hurt/comfort #part 5 #multi part fic #spencer reid x goth reader #spencer reid x alt reader

[animentality]

in re your post about therapy speak and ship wars, i THINK i agree from what I do understand, but i also dont know what therapy speak means? I looked it up and got this definition "Therapy speak is a colloquial term that refers to the use of psychological, therapeutic, or mental health language in everyday conversation. It can include terms like "boundaries," "abuse," "psychopath," and "trauma"."

So would an example of such be, "X ship is better than Y ship because X ship respects each others boundaries, but in Y ship they're a psychopath"? And then you know probably some added death/doxxing threats cuz ship wars.

Either way, yeah, ship wars dumb af, I just am dumb af too so I don't know what the post means. I also, fortunately, don't encounter much of therapy speak in my fandom spaces or online in general (proven by the fact that I had to look it up) as I just talk to people that I know and avoid the For You pages (which, plot note, are very often not For Me) so I'm lucky to avoid stupid opinions.

Thanks for answering if you do choose to, I know that at least several of the replies/responses to that post are likely stupid af, so I hope that my stupid af question is at least stupid af in a different way :) If I somehow have the wrong definition feel free to just link me to something that explains it better, because regardless it seems like a useful term to know!

not a stupid question at all.

so in the context of that post, abusing therapy speak refers to people who misuse terms like "narcissist" and "bipolar disorder" and "gaslighting" to suit their own personal tastes.

say for example, a character is arrogant and kind of haughty. if you don't like that character because people ship him with the character you like to ship with someone else, you insist he's a "narcissist" when he's you know. just arrogant.

and you say he can't be with her, because he's a narcissist and he has problems. that's problematic.

or say there's a female character you hate for having genuine human reactions to traumatic things. you'd say well I don't like her because she lets her obvious bpd hurt people instead of trying to fix her issues, she's so messy :(

and then if someone lies to another character, say their enemy, because they're fucking enemies, then you'd say oh he GASLIGHTS him, how could you guys ship this??? toxic ship???

so that's what that post refers to.

therapy speak as a whole, by definition, is fine because PTSD and depression and trauma do exist.

but in certain spaces, especially Twitter and TikTok and Tumblr of course, it's been weaponized as a tool to harass people who are fans of characters or ships that they themselves do not like.

which is ridiculous.

like you can say you don't like a ship without feeling the need to diagnose the two characters with whatever fun term your gen z therapist tossed at you that week.

you can say oh I simply do not like this character instead of oh he has an obvious mental illness and that's why I don't like him.

or you know.

he's a terrible representative of (insert illness) and that's why I don't like him-

bitch, we used to just not like things.

now it's like... oh this character is a psychopath.

let me read you a Wikipedia page on dsm-5 and explain that my personal preference is morally correct while yours is amoral.

that's why that post meant.

[ahummingbirdwitch]

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader) Part 3

Summary: Part 3 to Fantasize. Read part 1 here and part 2 here!

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,042

Warnings: vaginal fingering, p in v sex, blow jobs

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, guys! Here's 7,000 words of Cypher love to make up for it ;)

You’re exciting, boy come find me

Your eyes told me, “Girl, come ride me”

Fuck that feeling both us fighting

Could he try me? Mm, most likely

~~~

Something was off with Cypher.

The last few weeks, he hadn’t seemed quite like himself, but the past few days, it had become even more apparent. He was less present. Less focused. Quieter. He’d always been quiet —but this was a different kind of quiet. The distracted kind; the kind that told you his mind was somewhere else, far away from here.

On missions, he’d hardly been cracking jokes like usual, and only spoke to you to give orders. The rest of the time, he spoke to you even less, and scarcely stuck around for team activities. No doubt, something was troubling him; he seemed more on edge than you’d ever seen him. A couple times, you’d approached him to ask him a question, and he reacted almost as if you’d spooked him. And both times, he’d been quick to leave after giving you the answers you sought.

You weren’t stupid; you knew he was avoiding you. But… why?

In the back of your mind, you’d worried that he’d seen something that night—the night you’d touched yourself to him. If anyone were to find out about it, Cypher—the man with thousands of eyes—would be the first. You’d known it was a possibility even in the heat of the moment, and yet, you’d believed he didn’t know. Because if he did know, surely he wouldn’t act like this.

Cypher never let anything get to him. Ever. He wasn’t emotional. He never let the information he gathered interfere with his work, or his relationships. That was why he was so good at what he did.

Still, though, it worried you. Had you done something to offend him? Annoy him? Or was there something else on his mind that had nothing to do with you, and you were simply always in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Whatever the case, you couldn’t let this go on any longer. Your feelings for him aside, you didn’t want things to continue this way. He was more than just your teammate; he was your friend, wasn’t he? What could be bothering him so much that he couldn’t talk or joke with you like he always did? You wanted to understand, and help if you could.

At the end of the day, as training sessions wrapped up, you searched for Cypher in the common room. When you didn’t find him there, you went out into the hall, heading for the dorms. If he was in his room, there was a low chance you could get him out to talk, but you had to try.

Then, just as you rounded the corner, you ran into him.

Cypher made a sound of surprise when you smacked into him, and you pulled back abruptly, mortified. “Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “Sorry, sorry.”

The pale blue eyes of his mask blinked at you, and for a second you feared you’d angered him. But unexpectedly, he chuckled. “It’s alright,” he said. “I was…” He glanced away briefly. “I was actually looking for you.”

Your heart jolted so violently you thought it might burst. What? He had been looking for you? “You—you were?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said, still not quite looking at you directly. “I was, well… hoping we could… talk. If you are not busy.”

You were shaking your head before you could even answer him. “No, I’m not busy,” you assured him. “I was—I was actually looking for you just now.”

His eyes seemed to widen. “I… I see. That is…” He trailed off, then cleared his throat again. “Well, er… we should… go somewhere private. I… cannot show you my room, but I know somewhere else that will—”

“We can go to my room,” you said before he could finish. It had been your original plan to speak with him there, if you had succeeded in catching him at the right time, but your heart was pounding now that the words had left your mouth.

Cypher hesitated. “Are… are you sure? I wouldn’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” you promised. You managed a smile, despite how nervous you’d become. “It’s fine, really. Should we, um—go right now?”

“Yes, if you’re sure it’s alright,” he answered slowly.

“It is,” you said earnestly. “This way.”

You led Cypher down the hall to your room, miraculously making it there without your legs giving out from sheer anxiety. Once you were both inside, you closed the door behind you.

The two of you stood in silence for just a moment, and you wondered if he was just as afraid to make the first move as you. Finally, you asked him, “Do you, um—want some water?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, moving to lean against one wall.

Looking around the room, you tried not to panic. What had you been thinking? There was practically nowhere for him to sit apart from the chair by your desk and… your bed. Shit, you were so stupid. Things were already awkward between you two, and you’d only made it worse.

Still, you had to ask. “Do you want to sit down?” you asked, gesturing to your desk chair. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Thank you, but I would prefer to stand,” he returned, sounding oddly grave all of a sudden. “But please, feel free to sit. Do not stand on my account.”

You couldn’t help but be worried by his change in tone. “Well, what exactly are we talking about?” you asked, laughing in spite of—or maybe because of—your apprehension. “Is it something I should sit down for?”

He didn’t laugh, and that made you worry even more. Instinctively, you moved towards the bed, taking a seat at the edge of it, and looked over at him. He was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on the floor. What was going on? Why couldn’t he look at you?

“Cypher?” you said softly. “What is it?”

He lifted his head ever so slightly, then let out a sigh. “I… must be honest with you about something,” he murmured.

You were silent, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your ears.

When he spoke again, you could hear the effort it was taking him to go on. “You know that I see everything,” he continued. “That I have… cameras everywhere. Well…” He swallowed. “I have cameras… in here, as well.”

You froze, and immediately, devastatingly, you knew where this was going.

“I can’t tell you where they are, or why they are here, but—” Cypher turned his head, the brim of his hat covering much of his face. “One night, a few weeks ago, I—”

“You saw me,” you finished for him.

He looked up at you, and even with his mask on, you could tell he was stunned. After a short pause, he nodded. “I… saw you,” he echoed. “And I… heard you.”

You looked down at your hands, feeling as though the room was spinning around you. He knew. He’d known for weeks. Of course he had.

He’d heard you say his name—his codename and his real name. Your throat tightened with realization.

He’d heard you say you loved him.

The words were tumbling out of you before you could stop them. “I’m so sorry.”

A heartbeat passed, then Cypher spoke, his voice startlingly soft. “Why are you sorry?” he asked, bewildered.

You shook your head, unable to look at him. “I just—I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t have—fuck, I’m just—I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”

You were sorry, but for what, you didn’t know. Sorry for yourself? Sorry you hadn’t kept your secret better? Sorry you hadn’t told him?

Sorry you were in love with him at all?

Cypher was quiet for a long moment. You willed yourself not to cry, thinking desperately of what you could possibly say to rectify this situation, but then he said, “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

You raised your head at that. Tentatively, you found the strength to look at him again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that…” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Well, I mean that… there is no need to apologize. You’ve done… nothing wrong.”

You studied him, wishing more than ever that you could read his expression, understand how he was feeling. What was he trying to say? “You’re not… upset?” you asked, disbelieving.

“No.” He shifted against the wall, eyes still on the floor. “No, I… I’m not upset.”

You believed he was telling the truth, but you could see the discomfort in his stance. He might not be upset with you, but there was still something he wasn’t articulating.

Your throat was so dry; you wished you’d gotten yourself some water before sitting down. “Then… why have you been avoiding me?”

Cypher sighed. “I am… sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—what I mean to say is… avoiding you was… not my intention.”

Something told you he was lying.

“Cypher,” you said, “I—I mean it when I say I’m sorry. I didn’t want to complicate things like this, I just—” It pained you to say it, but you did anyway. You’d do anything to make this right. “It’s nothing, okay? It’s just a little crush. It’ll—it’ll go away.”

Cypher turned his head, meeting your eyes with those ice-cold blue orbs. “You… said my name,” he murmured. “That night.”

You faltered, unable to look away. “I-I—yeah, I did,” you stuttered. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Why did you?” he asked. There was no anger, no accusation behind the question. Only a desire to understand.

You tore your eyes away, occupying yourself with your hands in your lap. “I-I—I just—” You knew your voice was quivering, but you could do little to steady it. “In the moment, I guess I—I don’t know. I wanted to know the real you.”

Cypher did not answer right away. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “You said you… loved me,” he said, in that same soft tone.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “I know,” you whispered, your face burning. “I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

“You… didn’t?”

The softness in his voice took you completely aback. You looked up at him, blinking away the tears that were seconds from gathering. “What?” was all you could say.

“You didn’t mean it?” he asked. “When you… said you loved me.”

You didn’t know what to say. Why was he asking you this? You’d already told him it meant nothing. Unless… he didn’t believe you.

But… why would that matter to him? What did he care whether you loved him or not? Was this just more information he intended to keep for himself, to store away for later?

You shut your eyes, forcing back the tears once more. You could easily lie. You could say it had been nothing. You could say you didn’t know how you really felt, and that would be true, at least partially. You still didn’t understand all this, but you had to give him an answer. There was no way out of this.

And you weren’t a very good liar.

Looking down, you nodded. “I did mean it,” you said. “I meant it in the moment, and… I mean it now.”

Cypher was silent.

“It’s true I have feelings for you,” you went on, needing to get everything out before he said anything back. “I do, but… I care about this job. I care about the agency. And I respect you too much to let this change things.” You wrung your hands together. “I won’t let this get in the way. I’ll—I’ll keep working hard, and if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I—I understand. I just want to do my job. I don’t… I don’t want things to be different. I just want things to go back to normal. Please. ”

You felt the heat of his gaze on you as you waited for him to respond. He said he wasn’t angry, he said you’d done nothing wrong, but why was he so fucking quiet? What was going on in his head? You wished he would just tell you.

Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.

You heard the sound of footsteps, and suddenly, his shadow entered your field of vision. You looked up ever so slightly, and saw that Cypher had moved from his spot nearby; he was standing in front of you now, just a few feet away.

Slowly, he took off his hat, holding it to his chest. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. “I have feelings for you, too.”

It was as if every one of your nerves had been shocked back to life. You stared at him. “You—you do?” you uttered.

“Yes.” He gripped his hat a little tighter. “That night, I… I didn’t mean to see you. I watch everyone, as you know, but… I don’t—I don’t watch them like that. I’m not that kind of man.”

You believed him.

“I saw you, and I heard you say my name, and I…” Every word seemed difficult for him to get out, as though he were frightened to be so vulnerable with you. “I couldn’t… stop thinking about you. For weeks I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was… interfering with my work. I couldn’t focus.”

That much had been obvious. And, if you were being honest, you’d been off your game, too.

“I didn’t understand it at first,” Cypher continued. “I am… never like this. This is not familiar to me. Or at least it… hasn’t been for a long time.” He swallowed. “I realized that… you’ve affected me. I have not been the same since that night. I have feelings for you, and… I thought it best to tell you.”

You were lost for words, mind reeling with the weight of his confession. Cypher had feelings for you. Real feelings. You’d… affected him, without even meaning to. Your heart, confused though it was, had begun to beat madly.

All this time, he’d felt the same way.

You wanted to stand, to meet him at his level, but you were in such a state of shock, you feared you would pass out if you did. “What does this mean?” you asked him, your voice small.

Cypher fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “I… don’t know,” he confessed. “Not yet. All I knew was that I needed to tell you… for both our sakes. But…” He took the smallest step closer to you. “You know that… because of this, and because we are both agents here, nothing will be the same.”

You nodded, knowing it to be true.

“You know that I… can never tell you everything,” he said ruefully. “I can’t tell you about my past. And I can never let you see my face, as much as I may want you to.”

Your heart twisted. “I know.”

Cypher took another step, stopping right at your feet. The tips of his shoes were nearly brushing yours. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. When he looked down at you, you could almost see the sorrow in his eyes under the mask. “I’m sorry for all of this. For not telling you until now.” He scratched the back of his head with one hand. “I… haven’t done this in so long. I’ve almost forgotten what to do.” He laughed, though there was sadness in the sound. “I would… understand if this is too difficult.”

You peered up at him, still not understanding. “Do you… want to be with me?”

“I…” He had started to fray the edges of his hat. “I, well… I wish to be something with you,” he answered. “I… am not sure what exactly, yet. This is still new to me, and… I don’t understand all of it.” He shuffled his feet. “But… I can never be fully vulnerable with you. I may never be all you need me to be… because of who I am. What I’ve become.” A sigh escaped him. “I am truly sorry if this hurts you.”

Your arms reached out, seemingly moving of their own accord. Before you could think twice about it, you took the sides of his face in your hands. Though your touch no doubt surprised him, he did not pull away. “Cypher,” you whispered. “I… I don’t care.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t care,” you repeated. “I don’t… I don’t need to see your face. I would never make you show it to me.” You realized just how much you meant that. “I don’t need to know your past. I know something hurt you, something that forced you to hide yourself like this, and… that’s all I need to know.” You could feel a smile forming on your lips, slowly but surely. “I… mean that. I really do.”

He looked at you, his bewilderment evident even with his mask. “You… are really okay? With all of this?” he asked, full of disbelief.

You gave him a feverish nod. “Of course I am,” you said. “I fell for you as you are, didn’t I?” You laughed lightly.

“I…” His mask was warm. Was he blushing under there? “I’m… older, you know,” he mumbled. “I’m… out of practice. W-With—a lot of things. I haven’t been… well…”

You giggled. “That’s okay,” you reassured him. “We can—we can take things slow, okay? We’re still figuring this out.”

Cypher stared at you a moment longer, speechless as you held his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low rasp. “You are… lovely,” he said. “You know that?”

You glanced away, your cheeks hot. “Thank you,” you murmured. “You know, I… I can’t believe you’re really here right now. Are we sure I’m not dreaming?” You chuckled nervously.

Cypher leaned into your touch, dropping lower so that he was eye-to-eye with you. “You’re not,” he said. “And I will prove it to you.”

Before you knew what was happening, he ducked gently out of your grasp, letting his hat drop to the floor. With one hand, he reached for his mask, then took it off.

Your breath caught in your throat. What was going on? Had he changed his mind? Had he decided to show you his face after all?

But under his mask, his face remained hidden. There was another black mask that covered his skull and features, skin-tight like spandex, with the blue orbs over his eyes attached. Cypher grasped the bottom of it, lifting it up just above his nose, and your heart thrummed fiercely in your ribcage. It wasn’t all of it, but it was his face; olive-skinned, angular, with a trimmed, dark beard and a scar on his lip.

His lip. His lips. His lips.

Cypher brought his gloved hand to your face, stroking your jaw. “May I kiss you?” he asked.

You didn’t even answer. You just kissed him.

Your first thought when your lips met his was that he was warm. There was so much warmth coming from him, gentle and encompassing like the sun, and though his beard was a bit rough, his lips were so soft. You melted into the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. You needed more of him.

This wasn’t a fantasy. This was better than anything you could’ve conjured up.

Cypher matched your eagerness in kind, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed you. You felt his tongue at the seam of your lips, catching you by surprise, and you welcomed it inside your mouth, the softest of moans escaping you when it entered.

He pulled back for just a second, hand still in your hair. “Are you alright? Is—Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed before kissing him again.

You tugged at him, pulling him forward as the kiss deepened. You felt his chest on yours, his weight pressing down on you, and then you were falling back onto the bed, Cypher atop you as your mouths remained interlocked. Fiery warmth spread through you, rushing from your face down to your core. You held him closer, moaning when he sucked on your lower lip.

This wasn’t a dream; you were sure of it by now. But what was going to happen? How far did he want to take this?

“Cy—Cypher,” you managed to say against his lips. “Do you—do you want to—”

Cypher stiffened slightly, as if stirring from a trance. “I…” His breath was hot in your mouth. “I— yes. I want to, but—”

“But?” you said.

“I can’t be… naked,” he said breathlessly. “Not completely. I can’t—my body—”

“It’s okay,” you cut in. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.” You kissed the side of his mouth. “Can you—take off some things?”

“Yes,” he answered. He jolted suddenly, like he’d just remembered something. “Wait, wait—do you—do you have condoms?”

You blushed. “Yeah, I-I should have some—somewhere. They should still be good.”

“Okay.” Cypher shook his head, reining himself back in. “I—I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would have prepared for—”

You shut him up with another searing kiss.

No more talking. Just show me what you can do.

Cypher grunted into the kiss, carding his fingers through your hair. Slowly, steadily, he began to move against you. “ Ghzâla, ” he whispered.

The word sent a shiver down your spine. “What does—that mean?” you asked between kisses.

“Sweet,” he rasped. “You taste sweet.”

You shuddered. You felt his thigh rub between your legs, and your hips thrust up instinctively. You dug your nails into the back of his coat. “Please.”

Cypher broke away from your lips, kissing your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. “What do you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to touch you?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer him. “Yes.”

He kissed the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Where?”

The two of you had only just started, and you were already falling apart. “Everywhere,” you whimpered.

His lips were at your collarbone. “Everywhere?”

Holy shit, was he teasing you? This was too much. “Yes, everywhere,” you responded, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt. “Please, just—just touch me.” You’d dreamed about this for so long; there was no more holding back.

Impatient, you reached for your shirt, yanking it out from where it had been tucked into your pants. Noticing at once, Cypher acted accordingly, taking the hem from you and hoisting it up. You lifted your arms, and he pulled it off swiftly, exposing your bra and bare upper body. He leaned back, sitting up on his knees as he looked you over hungrily. “Beautiful,” he said, breathless. “So beautiful.”

You moved to unzip your pants, but he was faster this time, pulling them down with palpable desperation. Once he’d gotten them off, leaving you in only your undergarments, he put his hand to your panties. His touch was featherlight, but the second you felt it, it was like one of Neon’s electric shocks. You bit your lip to keep from moaning.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, adding just a little more pressure.

You let out the tiniest of gasps. You were soaked already, and you were sure he could feel it. He was so close to where you needed him. “Yes. Please.”

He stroked the outside with two fingers, feeling the shape of you through the fabric. His lips were parted, as if he were awestruck by you. “So wet,” he uttered, half to himself.

Unable to help yourself, you bucked against his hand. “Cypher,” you begged. “ Please. ”

He looked at you once, and that was enough to get him to focus. He made quick work of his coat and belts, then tore the gloves off his hands, setting them aside before flexing his freed fingers. They were the same color as his face, and just as scarred, with nails trimmed impeccably.

Thank goodness.

Cypher took hold of your panties, tugging them gently down your hips. Without speaking, he brought two fingers to your entrance, gathering your slick to coat the tips. Then, in one gentle motion, he plunged one inside of you.

You threw your head back, moaning as he entered. Cypher parted your walls with painstaking care, and you did your best to relax for him, knowing your pussy was strangling his finger with everything it had. It’d been months since you’d last had sex, and though you pleasured yourself often, the feeling of someone else’s finger inside you still came as a shock. You could feel every inch of it; the ridges, the callouses, the knuckle pressing up against the outside of you.

It was so good.

“Cypher,” you whined, feeling cockdrunk even at the small penetration. “Please.”

He was watching you intently, maintaining a steady pace with his finger. “Does it hurt?” he asked.

“No.” He curled it inside you, and you gasped. “No, don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” he promised. He sat back on the edge of the bed, studying you like a man entranced. He did not slow down.

He pumped deeper, hitting your g-spot, and you moaned louder, urging him to keep going. You were gone already, lost in the sensation. The dorms could be on fire outside this room, and still you wouldn’t care. Cypher was alone with you, touching you, and it was everything you wanted and more.

“N-Need you,” you blurted out. “I need you. Please.”

Cypher tilted his head, looking at you curiously. “What do you need, dear?”

The sweetness in his voice was killing you. “You,” you pleaded. “ You. I—” You were cut off by your own moan when his thumb brushed your clit. “Please. Please, can we—”

“You want to?” He leaned over you. “Already?”

“ Yes. ” You hardly recognized your own voice, so heavy with need.

“Yes, we can, but—are you ready?” he asked, concerned.

“Yes, yes, please,” you babbled. “Please, I just—I need you.” Under normal circumstances, you would be more embarrassed with yourself, but right now, you were too flustered, too hot with desire to care.

“Okay.” Cypher nodded, understanding, and carefully withdrew his finger with a wet pop. You shivered as it left you, watching him get up from the bed and look around. “You—said there were condoms somewhere, yes?”

“Y-Yeah.” You forced yourself to focus, if only for a few seconds. “Check—check the drawer. Right there.”

You pointed to your night table, and he went to it, opening a drawer to search inside. As he rummaged, you sat up, removing your bra and panties faster than you’d ever done in the past. After a minute, Cypher turned, a wrapped condom in hand. When he saw you, his jaw dropped.

Actually dropped. For once, you could see his mouth, and know what was on his mind.

“Sweetheart,” he said, mystified, “you didn’t have to—I would have understood if—”

“Just shut up and get over here,” you ordered, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him forward.

Cypher collapsed onto the bed, head hitting the pillows as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. He looked up at you, mouth still open with awe. “You’re beautiful,” he marveled.

“So are you,” you replied before bending down to kiss him.

Cypher opened up for you eagerly, his tongue parting your lips with ease. “You—you don’t know that,” he breathed. “You’ve never seen my face. I could be ugly under here.”

You ground your body against him, nipping at his lower lip. “I know you’re not.”

He made a low sound in his throat, grabbing hold of your thighs. He kissed you hard, squeezing your soft flesh. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked when he finally broke free.

“ Yes, ” you answered firmly. You were naked on top of him, spreading slick all over his pants, and kissing him like you needed him to breathe. What more did you have to do to convince him?

You looked at him beneath you, face still half-covered by his mask. You could tell he wanted you; you could feel it in his lap. But as much as you craved him, you needed to be sure. “Do you want this?” you whispered.

Cypher gripped your thighs. “I-I do,” he said. “I do. I’ve wanted this for weeks. It’s just… been a long time.”

You understood. You wanted this so badly, wanted to jump right in, but you would go at his pace. “We can take this slow,” you promised. “I won’t take anything off of you. Not unless you want me to.”

He smiled, and your heart swelled. “Thank you, sokar. ”

You gave him a curious look. “What does that one mean?”

He grinned. “I will tell you later.” He reached for the condom, unwrapping it from its package, then met your eyes. “Will you help me? Please?”

“Oh. Y-Yeah. Yeah.” You shifted in his lap, moving aside so you could undo his belt. Once it was gone, you unzipped his pants to reveal his boxers underneath, feeling around gently until you found an unmistakable hard shape. Cypher made a soft noise when you touched it, and you looked up, fearing you’d done something wrong. But then he gave you a nod, encouraging you, and you got back to work.

Deftly, you freed his cock, bringing it out into the open, and abruptly sucked in a breath at the sight of it.

You’d been right. He was big.

It was long and thick, that same lovely tone as the rest of him, with dark hair trimmed short. “What did I tell you?” you said, dumbstruck. “You are beautiful.”

Cypher laughed. “You’re too sweet,” he remarked. “Pretty girl.”

Those words, spoken so affectionately, got you riled up in a way you’d never felt before. Remembering your task, you took the condom and brought it to the head of his cock, unrolling it all down the shaft. Cypher very nearly whimpered as you did so, and that made you all the more determined to get it done.

Once you’d covered him completely, you spread your legs, positioning yourself over his cock. “Do you want to start like this?” you asked him. “Or do you want to be on top?”

Cypher’s hands found their way back to your thighs, gripping them. “Like this,” he murmured. “Just go slow, dear. Please.”

Your heart fluttered, your whole body ablaze. This was really happening. You were about to have sex with him, and he was letting you take control.

You brought yourself lower, gasping when the head of his cock met your entrance. Taking a deep breath, you went even lower, then all at once, you were easing yourself onto him.

You moved slowly, walls splitting as you took him inside of you. It was a light sting at first, only the head of him penetrating you, then the further you went, the more you could feel yourself being opened, spread apart by his massive length. You were helpless not to moan as you went, the pain quickly replaced by mind-numbing, mouth-watering pleasure the deeper you took him. There was some resistance on the way, but at last, he bottomed out, and when you sat yourself fully in his lap, he moaned in tandem with you.

“Shit,” you gasped. “You’re so big.”

Cypher breathed out shakily, chest heaving as he adjusted to a sensation he likely hadn’t felt in years. His hands still grasped your thighs, his grip tightening after a heartbeat. “So tight,” he groaned. “Does it—does it hurt?”

“N-No,” you said, clenching around him without meaning to.

He winced, though not in pain. To your surprise, he rolled his hips up into you. “Please,” he uttered. “Please.”

His plea took your breath away. Knowing at once what he wanted, you began to move, sliding yourself up and down his length. You were so wet, it was effortless, even without the condom’s lubrication. You placed your hands on his chest, supporting yourself as you took him in and out, in and out. This couldn’t be real. Nothing this good could ever be real. “Cypher,” you moaned.

“That’s good,” he choked out. He thrust up into you, almost shyly, then he did it again, and again. Each time, you let out a whine, and that seemed to spur him on. “Good girl. Yes. ”

You moved faster, needing more of his praise, more of him. You were fucking him. He was fucking you. “S-So good,” was all you could get out.

He chuckled in between moans. “You’re so good, sokar, ” he cooed. “So—so pretty.”

There was that nickname again. You tightened around him, forcing a strangled noise from him. “Please,” you whimpered.

He tilted his head up. “What is it, dear?”

“Please, I—” You couldn’t put it to words. You couldn’t think right now—how could you? How could anyone? There was only pure, overpowering need. Driven by instinct alone, you leaned down and took his face in your hands, kissing him hard.

If your first kiss with him was a flame, this was an inferno. It was as though all your desire for him, all that lust and desperation that had built inside you for months had finally risen to the surface, taking control of you now. You claimed his mouth greedily, feverishly, and he kissed you with the same ferocity, digging bruises into your thighs. You nipped at him, clutching the sides of his face as you tasted him, his tongue colliding with yours. You wanted to devour him. You wanted to make him yours.

Cypher thrust into you harder and faster, holding your hips in place, making you mewl into the kiss. “ Please, ” you whined.

“You like that?” he panted. “Is this—what you imagined that night? When you touched yourself?”

You moaned, faltering with every thrust. “Yes,” you said feebly. You could barely remember your fantasy that night; it paled in comparison to this. “Yes, yes, I wanted this…”

You could almost see his eyes rolling back. “Sweet girl,” he groaned. “Why me?”

You hadn’t expected that question. “What? What do you— mm —mean?”

“Why me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “Why not Phoenix, or Sova, or— anyone in Valorant? Why me, sweetheart?”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. The answer itself was so simple, but… why was he asking this? Why now? “Because—because you’re you,” you responded, fighting to speak clearly. “Because you’re—you’re Cypher. You’re smart and—and kind and—” You cut yourself off with a shrill moan when he hit you just right. “You’re—you’re just—”

For several seconds, Cypher said nothing, processing your words. Then, all of a sudden, he grabbed your face, forcing you to look straight at him. “Do you love me?” he asked, panting.

With your bodies so close like this, his hands on your face and his heart beating with yours, there was only one answer. “Yes,” you moaned out. “I-I do.”

He did not look away from you, not letting up on the rough pace he had set. “Say it,” he whispered. It wasn’t an order. It was a plea.

Cypher released you, pushing you back gently. You sat up straight in his lap, bouncing on his cock as he continued to thrust. You obeyed without question. “I love you.”

“Please,” he said.

“I love you,” you chanted. “I love you, I love you. ” You meant it, with every fiber of your being.

“Say my name,” he said, nearly begging. “ My name.”

“Amir,” you breathed. “I love you, Amir.”

Cypher made a sound so new, so vulnerable that you could hardly believe it came from him at all. It was soft, halfway between a moan and a whine. “ Sokar, ” he uttered.

You gripped the edges of his shirt. “Amir.”

He said your name. Your real name, not your codename.

Reaching down, you searched for your clit, circling it with two of your fingers. “Amir.”

He said your name again and again, like a prayer.

You rubbed your clit harder, the coil inside you so close to snapping. “I love you,” you gasped. “I’ve loved you for months. I love—I love everything about you. Amir. ”

“ Ghzâla, ” he said weakly. He sounded so frail, like a man about to break.

“I love it all,” you went on. You were babbling now, but you didn’t care. “I love—I love the way you look, the way you talk. I-I—I love your laugh, your—”

“Sweetheart,” he interrupted. “Stop, please—I’m close.”

“Then cum for me,” you said without hesitation. Your body jerked at the pleasure from your clit, and you clenched around him with a gasp. “Cum for me, please. ”

Cypher breathed out harshly. “Stop,” he pleaded. “No more, please. I’m going to cum.”

You were so close, too, you could feel it. “Cum inside me,” you begged.

He bit his lip, and for a moment, he seemed to be considering it. He groaned, gritting his teeth, then shook his head wildly. “No—no, I can’t.”

You wanted to argue, to moan and beg until he popped like a cork inside you. You wanted it so badly. You wanted to be his, in a way no one was. Not Nora, or anybody else.

But you couldn’t. Not like this.

Without saying a word, you obeyed him, moving off of his lap just as he cried out, gasping for air as he came. His cock pulsed inside the condom, filling it to the brim with thick seed. You laid on your side, watching him as he grabbed the base of his cock and pumped it, groaning while he rode the wave of his orgasm—the likes of which he probably hadn’t experienced in years.

It took him a moment to come down from his high. When his body relaxed, no longer convulsing, Cypher sat up slowly and exhaled. He said nothing yet, still catching his breath, but when he turned and looked at you, he suddenly sprang into action.

He pinned you down before you had time to react, holding your arms above your head with one hand. You stared up at him, startled, only to moan sharply when you felt his fingers at your clit, rubbing it ardently. You tried to say something, to ask what he was doing, but you couldn’t form a single word. 

Cypher grinned down at you. “Your turn, lovely girl,” he purred. “Let yourself go.”

Holy shit, it was so good. “A-Amir,” you mewled. “Fuck, please —”

“Almost there, yes,” he coaxed, breathy with effort. “You did so well. Cum for me now.”

You were drowning. You were drowning in pleasure and it was all him, him, him. “P-Please—”

“Cum now,” he cooed into your ear. “Let me hear you.”

That command, spoken so softly, was all you needed. You wailed as you reached your peak, loud enough that someone outside could’ve heard you. Your pussy, still gushing from earlier, fluttered and clenched around nothing as you came, and Cypher’s fingers on your clit slowed to a soothing rhythm. “Good girl,” he murmured. “So good. I knew you could do it.”

You panted, collecting yourself as your heart calmed and your body went still on the bed. You pussy throbbed, and the sheets beneath you were soaked, but words could not describe how elated you were.

Cypher wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He’d just fucked you stupid, and made you cum.

The man himself looked down at you now, smiling. “Feeling okay?” he asked, moving a strand of hair from your forehead.

You gave him an “Are you serious?” look. “Better than okay,” you answered, smiling back. “I think I could walk on air right now, honestly.”

He chuckled. “So sweet,” he said. “That’s why I call you sokar. ”

“Are you going to tell me what that means already?” you asked humorously.

He smiled. “Sugar.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Cypher leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sitting up and stretching. “I should get cleaned up,” he said, eyeing the stuffed condom. “It was… a lot. It has… been a while, as you know.”

You looked at the condom too—Jesus, it was a lot. Still woozy from your climax, your body warm all over, you had an idea all of a sudden. “Wait,” you said. “Let—let me.”

He turned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

You scooted closer to him, deciding to show rather than tell. Sliding off of the bed, you settled on your knees at his feet, taking your condom in your hands and gingerly rolling it up his cock. Cypher’s breath hitched when you pulled it off of him, but just before anything could drip from his shaft, you latched your mouth around his cock.

The moan that came out of him was better than you could’ve hoped. Clutching the base of his cock, you sucked up the remaining cum, licking and cleaning and swallowing. Cypher groaned as you worked, one hand coming down to grip your hair, and you did not stop until all of it was gone.

When you’d finished, you got to your feet, then disposed of the condom. Cypher was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on his thighs, flushed and panting like he’d just fucked you all over again. “You,” he said, his voice low. “I was—I was not expecting that.”

You giggled. Something about seeing him like this—so affected by you—was utterly amazing. You sat beside him on the bed, the mattress dipping under the weight of you both. “Sorry for the surprise,” you said, only half-apologetically.

“N-No, I—” He cleared his throat. “No, that was, I—” He laughed, avoiding your eyes. “Please do that again sometime.”

You laughed too.

You knew it was partly the hormones, but you felt so different now. Lighter. Freer. So much had just happened, in such a short span of time. Everything had changed between you and Cypher—but you welcomed it with open arms.

You liked him, and he liked you. Neither of you had to hide it anymore.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Will you stay?” you asked. “Just a little bit longer?”

Cypher wrapped one arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. He was quiet for just a moment, then finally, he answered, “Yes. For a little while.”

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#cypher #cypher x reader #valorant #ao3 #ao3 writer #cypher valorant

[graveyardlifeguard]

The Breakup

Summary: After his IA investigation, you and Tim have a conversation in the station parking lot.

Tim Bradford x Reader

Warnings: Heartbreak?? Couple of cuss words somewhere

It had been a long day. In all honesty it had been a long week. Between Tim absolutely ghosting me and lying to me, some random man showing up to my apartment, and Tamara telling me she was moving out, I didn’t how much more I could take. I was currently waiting outside of the station while Tim was inside finishing up his IA investigation. I don’t understand how this all went to shit so quickly. I still don’t fully understand what Tim has been up to. And why it’s so imperative for me not to know but for Angela to be in the loop. I knew the relationship was new, but it just didn’t seem…fair.

My head shoots up as I hear the front doors open, breaking me from my thoughts. Tim looks exhausted and I’m sure the investigation with Jacksons dad had taken a toll on him. I push off of my car that I had been leaning on and meet him at the trunk.

“Come here.” I say, opening my arms for a hug. He easily walks into them where we stand for a moment, just embracing.

“How’d it go with IA?” I ask once we both move to separate.

“I lied. About everything. But I mean, it saved my job, right? Protected you and Lopez.”

“It was an impossible situation. I would have done the same thing if I were in your place.” I comment, I can’t imagine having to go through whatever he had to this week. Maybe I could’ve helped if I had been looped into the situation. I guess I’ll never know. Tim shakes his head before speaking up, his voice thick with emotions.

“You wouldn’t have been in my place. You never would have put self-interest over your team.”

“You thought you could handle it, you were wrong, but you made it right. So, it’s fine.” I try to reason with him.

It doesn’t look like I’m breaking through because he shakes his again and just scoffs out, “Yeah, yeah I wish it were that easy. Y/N, I just lied to two men I deeply respect, OK? I just betrayed everything I thought was right about myself.” His voice is somehow even thicker with emotion, and I can see the faint glint of tears in his eyes.

This is so wrong.

“Tim- “I start but he quickly cuts me off asking me to let him finish.

“This is very hard for me to say. Y/N I have been lying to myself for a long time. That’s clear to me now and I can’t— I can’t just go back to the way things were. Not right now. Maybe never..”

He takes a breath and I feel my heart drop into my stomach, if not out of my body in general. What does that mean? Go back to the way things were? Is he talking about us? Our relationship? It’s still new, we haven’t had any time. Was he breaking up with me?

“Wait..” I trail off, hearing the hurt in my voice. “Are you breaking up with me?"

We stand there for what feels like eternity. Tim is somehow conveying all of his emotions and none of them at the same time. It’s something that used to absolutely piss me off when he was my TO. He nods his head before he answers, “I’m sorry.”

It sounds like he is having to force the words out of his mouth. The words are laced with emotion, emotion I had really only seen out of him a handful of times. I hated it. I hated this.

“You don’t—you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to lie to me and then use that as an excuse to leave me, okay? That’s not okay. That is not okay. What you’re doing is not okay.”

It seems that all he can say in the moment is that ‘He knows.’ No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know because if he did, he wouldn’t be breaking my heart like this. He’s making it feel as though it’s my fault. Like somehow this whole situation, whatever the hell it was, is my fault. It’s not fair. This isn’t fair. I had told him before we started all this, at the beginning, that I couldn’t lose this because I would be losing the most important relationship I had ever had with someone.

“You—you are an incredible person.”

My heart begins to crack as it feels what’s coming. This is the start of a breakup speech. The one that’s only saved for special relationships, or the end of them that is. I shake my head feverishly. I can’t let him do this. It’s just not fair.

“No. No”

“No, you’re incredible, okay? You deserve so much better. That’s why I’m walking away.”

It’s just now that I’ve noticed that tears have welled up in my eyes. None have escaped yet and maybe it’s the shock of what’s going on that’s preventing them, either way I’m grateful that they aren’t falling in front of him. My brain is moving so fast that I can’t really figure out what emotion I’m feeling at this moment.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, throwing my hand up in the air.

I didn’t realize that he was holding it but at that moment, what normally was a calming weight, feels as though its nine-hundred degrees on my skin.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask again.

All he can seem to say at the end of all of this is, “I’m sorry.” I feel his hands gently grab the sides of my head before he places a kiss on my forehead. He lets go quickly and walks away. Walks away from me, from us, from everything it feels like. I told him what this would do to me. What losing him would do to me. As I stand here watching him walk away, my mind settles on one emotion for the moment: absolute, mind-numbing heartbreak.

#the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #heartbreak #imagines #the rookie imagine #tim bradford imagine

[strawberri-syrup]

i feel like im going fucking insane < chem homework

#i do not understand why my answers are WRONG #but they ARE #and i am going to SCREAM #i hate this fucking class

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Phullo it is I again!

I am very glad that you actually responded and given me an actual advice since I was worried about the question I sent you.

Though besides that I have another question for you (hoorayyy)!

So, about the reading books earlier- I’m fortunately a bookworm too! It’s just that I notice I prefer reading the genre science fiction/psychological horror more than… anything else!

And while the books I am currently reading, ‘Flowers For Algernon’ and ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ (these books are seriously so wonderfully made they make want to tear my walls), DO have romantic aspects of it- it’s not really the main plot of the story..

‘Flowers For Algernon’ has amazing storytelling and is very unique- though I’m not sure if you’ve read it before but, it’s actually just the main character taking notes. Hence why there was a lot misspellings which honestly makes it a great touch if you know the context behind it.

On the other hand, ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ too shares the same uniqueness as the other, possibly even more unique if I must say so myself. Though I REALLY don’t want to make my story similar to them since I want to make it more heart warming than fucked up..

Which is why I feel like I have the need to borrow or buy at least one romantic book because, I lack of it. I mean I accidentally borrowed it one time but it was kind of disappointing.

I don’t know if its a good idea and if I should do it or not since does it really matter of the genre, or just the writing?

Still, if you have any good books that are in the romance genre. Feel free to recommend some to me!

-lots of love, from another bookworm

welcome back! happy to hear you're a bookworm as well <3 im writing those titles down since i read a criminal lack of sci-fi despite loving it

i actually don't have any straight up romance recs - i don't actively search it out (outside of fanfic), so any romance i read just comes with whatever book i've picked up. just straight up romance bores me, unless its a fic with a pairing i actively like. and even then, i need to take breaks from it unless the romance is interspersed with an actual plot. im not a romantically-geared person! i dont have single Main Plot Is Romance book on my shelves!

but imo its really just the quality of writing that helps. ive never been in a romance, im the child of two different divorces, and yet ive been told that i write romance fairly well. go fuckin figure lmao.

so actually my advice on romance is to just like. wow idk what i do is pick apart the romances i see on tv / in writing. what makes them good together, how do they act around each other, what are their love languages, what's their dynamic, what traditional romance things do they partake in, what dont they partake in, do they have anything nontraditional, do they work and why do / they dont they - does that make their relationship more interesting or is it flat. are they a good match.

you don't have to have every answer, but ive found that at least understanding their characters / dynamics, and having them interact in a way that suits them will help your romance feel natural. dont conform to tropes or tradition, that will just make the relationship flat and unrealistic. and you can always sprinkle in little things that you like / would like, which will help ground the romance and get you into the groove

tldr with romance, i think it's better to observe real life (whether that's paying attention to couples or reading reddit threads) & analyze in-love or in-a-relationship characters instead of just reading romance novels. bc honestly, and from what i can tell, they can tend to be over the top or cookie cutter

just realized you did not explicitly ask for romance advice! Oopsie! i got a little carried away here....

#another thing i like to do is analyze bad fictional relationships / ones i dont like #both bc it gives me a concise argument / explanation if someone gets on me about it #and bc it helps me understand what makes good romances Good #bc bad relationships make me sit there and ask 'well. what went wrong here? why dont they work? why do i hate this? whats Missing?' #and filling in those gaps teaches me what Does work. what will go Right. why i Love it. what Is there. #sometimes the answer is simply bad writing & after taking a deeper look #i can conclude they they Are good for each other - the show/book just shoved them together with no reason other than #'need romance' or 'boy meet girl' or 'love at first sight' #i mean there are some romances that i look at it and im like 'wow! this should not be happening!' #but i Like it because its interesting enough! a good example is aline & the darkling from the grishaverse #such a fucking unhealthy relationship. really well written. fascinating. hot as hell. important for the story/characters. #i wanted to rip them apart but also glue them together to see how horrible the train crash would be!!!! #absolutely unprompted #so i mean... i think i can rec books that Have good romances in them? but thats not the focus by any means #lemme know... i know im less helpful this time around but i hope im helping a little! #feel free to ask as many questions as you like - ill do my best with all of them

[front-facing-pokemon]

#RIP to the legacy post editor. you will be missed. while queueing this post and the last one it's removed the option for me to switch to the #old one and is making me use the new one. which is like not bad. it's not a bad editor. i just don't like change as most tumblr users don't #it also just appends the post you make directly to the top of the currently-displayed posts behind it even if it's not meant to go there #which is a little bit scary when i'm on the queue page and i click “add to queue” for a post that's supposed to go up on august 18th #to see it immediately appear above mega metagross. the legacy post editor didn't do that. it made you refresh the page if you wanted to see #your own new post on the dashboard. which i think was better!! honestly!! i've never Made a post using the new editor to see how it behaves #only ever queued up FFP using this thang. but that's also bc i feel like i don't post very much. i need smth Interesting to say when i post #on my main blog i mean. i don't make extraneous posts on here (usually) unless i'm answering an ask or something. which. still have yet to #miss one to this day. going strong #bibarel #can you tell idk what to say about this guy. what are they‚ water-type? big chance i'm fucking wrong and they're just pure normal #OKAY i was right. normal/water. semi-interesting typing and i get why they're a water-type. but. i never use. bibarel. even as a kid who #didn't understand or care about competitive. i knew bibarel was not very strong. it's a route 1 normal-type fucker. and maybe it's like #better than i think or something but tbqh it's a sinnoh 'mon and i already have another sinnoh water-type that has my heart. buizel #so bibarel was not so much in the cards for me. bro i should do like. a mono-type run of a pokémon game one day. that would be fu #do folks do that? is that a challenge run that actually exists? nuzlockes exist so i don't see why not. okay i'm doing it. my next replay o #any pokémon game is hereby decreed to be a water-type mono-type run. i may or may not liveblog it on my main blog #and it may or may not be nuzlocke. we shall see #hell maybe i'll stream it. maybe that could be fun. i don't know of *anyone* who would be interested in that but it tends to help me #actually go about completing games when i have someone there like. waiting for me to do so

[sherlock-is-ace]

i think people who ghost you after they approached you for a job opportunity should be punished by law

#bitch YOU asked ME what my fee for certain project would be #at least have the DECENCY to tell me you don't agree with it so you're gonna find someone else for the project #I didn't do anything wrong i simply replied to your fucking message why the fuck are YOU ghosting ME?! #it happened 4 times in the last month.... #i would understand it if i reached out or something (still bad. give a fucking answer) but when are they the ones to approach me first? #i don't get it #angel talks #personal

[gojuo]

Proshippers be funny af. GoT opening sequence is nothing like hotd so that comparison they pulled up is false and desperate.

me: i want helaegon to be the deconstruction of targaryen incest that examines the psychological horror of a forced marriage to one's own sibling in which the full family is already hanging by a thread in a treacherous situation since there is no other targ couple in the entirety of canon perfectly situated to explore and dissect this horrific aspect of targaryen culture

#them: i want an incestuous love triangle (that is not canon) because incestuous love triangles is interesting writing or something

#i cant believe there are asoiaf fans out there that seriously dont want the targ inc*st to be probed and taken apart and vivisected. likeee #the entire point of targ incst is that its a horror show. its wrong. it should be denounced by the narrative. helaegon is the perfect fit #for that exploration and condemnation. hightower mother. first non targ parent and queen. first targ son that is disowned and emasculated #which leads to aegon not wanting to be a part of targaryen culture. neurodivergent helaena who does not or cannot understand why aegon acts #like it. who doesnt understand whats wrong with her (theres nothing wrong with her). aegon who just wants to be a brother since he cant be #son nor an heir. but hes not allowed to bc the dad who disowned him forces him to partake in targ culture. the blurring lines between #brother and husband and sister and wife and the horror of it all. what is love? i love you bc you are my sister but i cant love you bc you #are my wife and bc you are my sister it is wrong. big bro and first son aegon who has nothing to his name wanting a good life for his sibs #since aemond and daeron are not first sons and will never be first sons they are not doomed like aegon the first son is #and helaena could have lived a happy life married to a good guy with an inheritence who can actually bring smt to the table (unlike disowne #aegon) and who is not related by blood to her somewhere far away from KL and all of its grief. but its never gonna happen now bc they are #targaryens and this is what targaryens do. and alicent watches on unable to stop it. unable to spare her children from this horror show #and then blood and cheese happens... #and what does helaemond bring to the table ? .... uhh incst love triangle i guess 😒🙄 #anti helaemond #helaegon #hotd critical #anonymous #answered

[twpsyn-who]

Talking a little bit about 'boycotting Eurovision' under Keep Reading, feel free to scroll down if is not what you want to see.

The most used argument on the matter of banning Israel from Eurovision is the fact that Russia got banned from Eurovision, which is the worst argument anyone could bring.

Kindly reminder that Russia didn't get banned because of the war with Ukraine. Russia got banned because many countries has threatened to withdraw from the competition. Sadly, that's a big difference.

Yes, the countries has threatened to withdraw because they support Ukraine and see Russia as the party in the wrong. That was their reason. EBU's reason for banning Russian was because those countries threatened to withdraw, not because the war was bad and Russia must be stopped.

This situation isn't the same. Why? Because many countries support Israel in their genocide. Because this time around Palestine is the party in the wrong. Because we're taught to believe that Israel isn't in the wrong here.**

Boycotting Eurovision won't work. There are people out there who don't know the truth and want to watch Eurovision. There are people out there who don't care and will watch Eurovision regardless of the situation. There are people out there who, despite having the facts, still don't see Israel as the bad guy in this situation and will watch Eurovision. Sadly, boycotting won't work unless everyone does it.

The only way Israel will get banned, in my opinion, is by going through the same thing as Russia. If other countries threatened to withdraw- and not any countries, but the ones investing the most in Eurovision, then yes. That will get Israel banned.

Otherwise? The only thing we do is hurt artists that don't deserve it. Artists who use Eurovision as a way to get more exposure and experience. Artists who deserve to be heard.

Don't vote for Israel's entry. Don't stream their song either. Heck, turn off the TV when is their turn to perform.

**This whole situation (the war, not Eurovision) isn't only black and white. Civilians die daily because of this, all of them from both sides. Innocent people who has no fault. Let's not forget that

#Honestly I'm tired of the whole 'Russia got banned Israel should be banned too' speech because is truly bullshit #It has nothing to do with the war per se. It was because countries were unwilling to participate in support for Ukraine #If the whole situation was truly political then other countries wouldn't be able to participate either #Is it fair? No. But that's the situation #Alas Eurovision exist so we forget about the bad in the world for a bit and be more united. Have some fun. Stuff like that #I'm going to get so much hate over this omg. But this is just my opinion/point of view on the matter #Sadly this whole situation isn't even about helping the innocent put in danger by this situation. Is about hate like everything else #My wording is so shitty but people on the internet don't understand shit unless I call 'X bad Y good' so we go with that #eurovision 2024 #Also another reminder that THE WHOLE AUDIENCE chanted 'Cha Cha Cha' during eurovision 2023 and were rotting for Finland to win just to lose #Many entries got fucked up by the jury votes too. Our opinion doesn't matter as much as some of you might think lol #Jury votes GOT CHANGED during another eurovision under shitty reasons (I can't remember which year but there were 5 or 6 countries who got #their votes changed). Eurovision has never been fair #We always get annoyed over it and trash talk it then watch it the next year #Also this is not the same as boycotting brands and shit like that who support Israel. No money go from Eurovision to Israel. #This competition as far as I am aware (please correct me if I'm wrong) doesn't support Israel in any way #Be it financially or by donating arms or any other way #Their only fault is for allowing Israel to participate. That's all #Weapons* don't ask me why I said arms instead sorry #i'm tired lol #Fair warning I won't answer any replies to this post

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hey! I was summoned by the tags you put under my post bc I also very much enjoy discussing ethics. I might make this into its own post so I'll try to not elaborate too much...

I think that I can't just decide for everyone if the difference between doing good for the sake of goodness or in order to save oneself matters, but for me, in most cases, including Dazai's case, it doesn't.

I like to believe that morality is a choice one can decide to make, and I don't think it's fair to take that away from them, regardless on how they might feel on the inside. It's a wonderful thing to act morally because it's your "natural" tendency, but I think people also have the right to do so deliberately, for a reason that they choose, without their choice being minimised. They're two different processes for sure, but if the outcome is good, then the action is a good action, and, if being moral is a choice, then I don't think I have the right to decide that only one intention or emotion that will lead there is good enough.

Also, doing good for your own sake and for the sake of others are mutually exclusive at all. One feeds the other, and if we were to put every person's actions under such scrutiny, we would ultimately run in circles.

So, for people outside the story, I would say that the debate does matter, but for the sake of the people involved, it doesn't, because the outcome is the same, especially since Dazai is so opaque as a character, and what he really feels about the things he does is so hard to read, so at the end of the day all most of them experience is his actions.

[Post this is referring to] Thank you for your elaboration, I loved hearing your opinion on the matter!!! That's close to consequentialism, isn't it? The consequences of one's actions, how much good they produced, are telling of it being morally right or wrong. I don't necessarily agree, but that's definitely a valid way to see it!!! I personally believe one's intentions are the most relevant aspect to take into account when judging whether and action is ethically rightful or not. Note that that is judging the moral of the action itself, and not giving a judgement on the person; people can have a million reasons to act selfishly, and in my very “humans are always inherently good” worldview more often than not it's caused by society rather than an actual preference to not be altruistic. But that doesn't change the fact that even a good action, if it isn't moved by good intentions, won't ever be passable of being morally right to me. Besides, then, wouldn't the other way round work to? Someone well intentioned, who's however incompetent, and ends up with their actions putting more bad in the world– as long as they're acting with a true desire to help others for the sake of it, their actions can't be considered morally wrong for me.

To clarify, with reference to your ask; I don't think people who do something for selfish reasons, and end up doing good, are morally rightful; but if they decide to do good, well, isn't that a well-intentioned aim itself? Then I think they stop being selfish to the extension that they consciously decide they're going to do good. That's not morally reprinandable at all.

Now, regarding Dazai... Honestly, I don't think Dazai is a good person. Because he never meant to do good for the sake of it. But now, the thing is, I don't think anyone in bsd is meant to be interpreted as good or evil– nobody, not Atsushi, not Mori, no one. When it comes to bsd– I do think bsd expresses a more or less nihilist worldview. And I know pretty much everyone else disagrees with me on this, I know, I'm sorry. But I do think there lies an undergoing message that good and bad are ultimately the same, and equally meaningless– it's there in Oda saying “Neither good nor evil mean much to you”, it's there in the way it makes you root for mafiosi like they were the good guys, it's there in the way Dazai never even considered to make amends for the bad things he's done (because they were never bad to begin with, because good and bad mean nothing anyway), it's there in the way it constantly shows good people doing bad and bad people doing good in a way that basically equalises them. To me there's really no point in discussing whether Dazai is good, because he is most evidently not, but that's only because he was never meant to be interpreted as such to begin with. Please refer to this post for further details; it's not surprising at all that Dazai switching over to the “good side” didn't come with a radical change of heart, and that he basically stayed the same, because how could he become good when that's no different than being evil, and those both mean nothing anyway?

And I know most people see bsd's core theme as finding a reason to live, and maybe it is, but even then I think that wouldn't be by denying its nihilism, but rather accepting it and finding a reason to live in spite of it: to me all of bsd really sums up in “that, at least, is a little more beautiful”.

#Average Tumblr user reading this post: Wow Op really doesn't get anything about bsd's message #I know it's an unpopular opinion. I'm sorry. Sometimes it happens and you're fully entitled to think my takes are terrible #osamu dazai #bsd #bsd analysis #mine #people asks me stuff #Peoples I know every time I am prompted to say something of this kind I get ten different asks elaborating on why I'm wrong‚ #and I truly appreciate them– without irony‚ I do‚ I dearly cherish getting to see things from a different perspective! #I just haven't gotten around to answering them because. It's just that there's only this much hours in the day– #and although I'm sure it'd open for extremely interesting dialogues‚ there's other things I'd rather be doing than discussing over– #whether bsd as a story is good or bad– I never signed up to talk about anything that wasn't ss/kk to begin with anyways. #I hope you understand!!!! #If I ever was to finish my infinite list of planned posts you can be sure I'll get back to them asks #but in the meantime they're probably going to lie at the bottom of my inbox. #Still I do immensely appreciate people's kindness in attempting to make me see things from a different angle!!!