#how estimating helps with change orders | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aperrywilliams · 2 months ago

Text

Glowing (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

------------------

Author Masterlist

------------------

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: The team has been out on a case for about ten days now. You're not with them this time due to your 21st-week pregnancy and doctor's order not to go to the field, and you miss your husband, Spencer, like crazy. When they come back, Spencer can't stop looking at you and your recent baby bump. To say it makes him feral is an understatement, and he wants to show you how marvelous you are despite your insecurities about your changing body.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT/18+/MDNI. Spencer and Reader are horny AF. There is a lot of teasing, heated kissing, heavy making out, oral sex, PIV sex, and breeding kink (a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy). Reader has some insecurities about her body.

A/N: This idea was requested a while ago. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get it done. But here it is! Someone asked for horny!future!dad!Spencer? Well, you’re welcome.

---------------

You can't say you are thrilled about staying in Virginia when all of your team is fighting crime on the other side of the country. Not when it has been ten days since they are gone. Not when you haven't seen your husband that long because he happens to work on the same team.

It's not that you had another option, though. Considering you are almost in your 21st week of pregnancy, your doctor advised you to take it slow on the job. That means being on the field miles away from home became a big no, and this time, you had to settle for nightly phone calls and daily texts with Spencer.

So it doesn't surprise anyone to see the happiness on your face when Hotch calls around midday, announcing that the case is over and they are flying home.

Penelope, always the joyful human being on Earth, immediately got on board with Rossi to host a gathering in his mansion once they were back tonight. Of course, Rossi agreed. Virtually no one can say no to Penelope.

"Okay, mama-genius," she says after ending the call with David. "We have a party tonight and a lot of things to do."

You may be worried about what 'a lot' can imply, but it is just a saying. Penelope will do most of it anyway, claiming you can't do any strenuous task so as not to bother baby-genius. Since the moment you and Spencer told the team about the baby's coming, Garcia baptized you all: papa-genius, mama-genius, and baby-genius. You find it the cutest thing in the world.

Walking through the supermarket aisles, you get everything you'll need: snacks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, and all the stuff. And with the cart full, Penelope sends you home to get ready.

"But Pen, you need help to set all this up."

"Don't worry, honey. I already have Anderson waiting for me at Rossi's. The benefits of having a spare key," she proudly says, dangling her keychain full of keys. "Now go! Go to get ready for your man. I know you have been missing him like crazy."

She is not wrong in the slightest, so you don't fight her. A bath sounds nice right now, and with all the pregnancy going on, you'll need the extra time to get ready.

Ten days have been torture for Spencer Reid. It's the longest he has been apart from you since you guys discovered you are pregnant. Sure, phone calls and texts help, but it's not enough. Not to the overprotective Spencer, anyway. It's not that he doesn't trust you; he does. But his mind always works in overdrive, and he worries more than he should. Not to mention, he has missed you like he hasn't seen you in months.

When Rossi tells the team the plans for the night once they arrive, Spencer is a bit disappointed. He would have preferred to go straight home to be with you. But when JJ assures him you will be there, his apprehensions change to anticipation.

The kind of anticipation that keeps him anxious until everyone arrives at Rossi's past 8 p.m. They were a little bit late for the estimated time, but the traffic was hell today.

A happy Penelope opens the door before Rossi can reach his key.

"Welcome home, mon amis."

"My home, you say?" the old man corrects, no real annoyance in his voice.

"Share is care, so our home is," Garcia retorts, effusively hugging every team member crossing the threshold. The last one is Spencer. "Your woman is waiting for you," she whispers to him after almost crushing him in her embrace.

Spencer practically runs to the living room, where you are greeting everyone. His eyes nearly can't give credit to what he sees. Of course, he knows how you look. He has known you for years and has memorized every detail of you: your height, the way your head leans when you're listening to someone, the color of your eyes, the way you smile, your expressive hands, and every curve of your body. But today? Something looks different, alluring, magnetic, and so entrancing.

His brain has a suitable explanation for it. Sure, when you haven't seen your partner in days, you tend to enhance every detail you love about them. 'Love hormones,' others would say. But no, this is more than psychology and chemistry.

Pregnancy has made changes in you. It was expected, and Spencer knows that, but reading it in a book is way different than seeing it for himself. Sure, there were the headaches and the morning sickness in the early stages. Adding the mood swings and fatigue. But nothing prepared him for the body changes. And not in the bad way people must think, all the opposite. To Spencer, pregnancy has made you the most sexy woman in the world. And after ten days of being deprived of those changes, to him, all come at once. Your breasts got bigger, and you definitely started to show more. The sundress you're wearing just enhances those details, and Spencer feels like he can faint right there.

When your eyes meet across the room, his breath hitches; those eyes he loves so much are glowing and chanting a spell Spencer won't escape from. Not that he wants to, anyway.

Shameless, you leave your conversation with Prentiss and Luke and run to your husband, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I missed you," you murmur into his neck. Spencer hugs you back and closes his eyes, relishing how good you smell and how good it is to have you in his arms again. "We missed you," you add.

The mention of your unborn child melts Spencer on the spot. "I missed you both, too," he manages to say, reluctantly parting from your embrace to look at you and get lost in your eyes again. "I love you," he whispers, leaning to capture your lips with his. And just like that, the anti-PDA, Spencer Reid, indulges himself in kissing you in front of everyone.

The teasing from the team around is only background noise, and neither Spencer nor you are very concerned about it. Not until you involuntarily tug his hair, and Spencer needs to do everything in his power to stop the groan threatening to escape his lips.

Parting and clearing your throats, you both try to regain composure. All the team's eyes are on you, but the only one who dares to point out the obvious is Rossi.

"I have a guest room upstairs, at the second door down the hall."

The comment causes the team to laugh and you to be mortified.

"Sorry," you both mumble, a deep shade of crimson adorning your cheeks. Grabbing your hand, Spencer pulls you to a corner. You're still in sight of the people but far enough to talk and not be listened to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He points to your baby's belly. It's not an accusatory question, more like an excited one.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I would have liked to be in a more private setting, but I wasn't going to miss being here and waiting for you at home to show you."

Spencer's hand rests over your now prominent belly and rubs soothing patterns there. "It's amazing," he admits. "How are you feeling?"

You let out a content sigh, feeling the warmth emanating from your husband's palm to your lower stomach.

"Much better now you're here."

"They haven't done much trouble, have they?"

"Nah. Behaves like an angel." And it's the truth. The second trimester has been much better than the previous one: no morning sickness, less fatigue, and it has been great.

There are other 'issues' though. The boost of energy has been paired with an increase in your libido that sometimes is very hard to control. The times Spencer is around, having sex can be enough, but with days passing and with the tenderness and care Spencer has been touching you, it's getting hard to satiate your most primal needs. You know he does it because he doesn't want to hurt you, but even if you have assured him you won't break, he hesitates nonetheless.

And now, after all these days without him, you are sure another touch from him, even the most innocent, will set your body on fire. You are sure this night will be excessively long.

Spencer's thoughts are not very different from yours. The moment he sees you in your sundress walking to him was enough to make his mind wander.

"OK, mister. Enough lovebirds' moment for now. The girls need their time, too." Without warning, Penelope grabs your hand to lead you to the group where Tara, Emily, and JJ are.

You can only shrug to Spencer as Penelope drags you from him. Spencer gives you a reassuring smile. It's fine; you are both adults, he reminds himself. How can it be so difficult to keep his hands to himself for a couple of hours?

Easier said than done, he'll realize.

Neither of you can't help the stolen glances across the room or the subtle smiles you share as you talk to the team at different spots in the house.

Spencer doesn't know if he can control himself much longer. You look stunning and tempting, and his mind starts to fill with unholy things he wants to do to you.

"Reid?" Luke's worried voice gets him out of his mental predicament.

"I - uh. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Are you alright, man? You seem distracted."

If alright means extremely horny and with an incipient boner tightening his pants, then yes, he's more than alright.

"Yes. Yeah. Uh - I'll grab some water. Excuse me, I'll be right back."

The trip to the bathroom is quick and mildly effective: Splashing cold water on his face and reciting the Declaration of Independence in his mind, Spencer regains some composure and gets back to where the people—and you—are.

The night continues in the same way. It's not like you are openly teasing him, but Spencer can't help himself.

The last straw comes when you're in the backyard talking to JJ and Emily, and you're laughing so hard that your body jolts, making your breasts bounce a bit, exposing more of your cleavage. It's not that evident to anyone, but for Spencer, who has been gawking at you all night, it is clear as day.

He wants you, and he wants you now.

Spencer sets his glass of water on the table and strolls where you are. Giving JJ and Emily a tight-lip smile, he leans to whisper something in your ear. The girls can't hear what it is, but the flush in your cheeks should give them an idea.

"Yeah, it's kind of late. And yeah, I'm feeling a bit tired," you tell Spencer, now looking at the girls, not wanting to disclose what Spencer actually said.

"Sure, carrying a baby Reid must be exhausting," Emily teases, gaining a roll of eyes from Spencer.

"Go, guys. Don't worry; I think I'll leave soon, too," JJ says, and you nod gratefully to avoid making more uncomfortable the moment.

With a tight grip on your hand, Spencer walks with you to say goodbye to everybody. Then, no later than that, you hop on the Uber, already waiting outside Rossi's.

All the ride home, Spencer's hand rests firmly on your tigh. His eyes can't peel off of you. All of you. It's like he hasn't seen you in months and wants to memorize each feature. You look back at him with a mix of amusement and self-consciousness. The lust is all written on his gaze, but there is something more, too. Love, longing, reverence. It's like there isn't anything else in the world but you.

The thought only fuels how much you love him and, of course, how horny you feel. Is it hot in this car, or is that just your idea? Why is the ride taking longer than you would like? You're about to huff in protest when the vehicle stops at your destination. Thanks God!

Spencer never falters his grip on you all the time. You can feel him everywhere: on your hand as you take the stairs, on your lower back walking down the hall, on your shoulder when you fish the key in your purse.

As the door shuts behind you, Spencer's lips are on yours in an instant. Kissing you hard. Like he's a drowning man, and you are the air he needs.

"God, you don't know how hard it was to control myself," Spencer mumbles, now peppering wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone.

"Hard, uh? Well, I guess I have an idea," you say, palming him over his slacks, making him hiss.

"Don't tease me, please," Spencer growls between kisses as he walks you both through the apartment to your bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your path.

"I'm not, baby. I promise I'm not. I'm as desperate as you are." You're not lying. Your body has been on fire the whole night. You want him as much as he wants you right now.

When your legs hit the bed, you're both only in your underwear.

Spencer breaks the kiss to look at you. The bedroom is only lit by the hallway lights. He reaches for the nightstand to switch the lamp on, but before he does, you stop him.

"Can we just-" You don't finish the sentence, but Spencer understands what you're asking for.

"Yeah. We can, of course. But what's wrong?"

It's not the first time you have sex with the room's lights off, but those times, neither of you has explicitly requested it. You usually don't have trouble with Spencer seeing you naked, but since you got pregnant and your body started to change, you don't feel sexy, and it is mining your confidence. Spencer's suspicion goes in that same direction.

"Nothing," you say, pulling him to kiss him again with the same passion as before. Spencer almost surrenders at your doing, but he stops.

"Hey," he whispers. "Talk to me."

You sit on the mattress, knowing you have to tell him what's bothering you. He sits by your side, patiently waiting for you to collect your thoughts and choose your words.

After some seconds of deliberation, it is you who switches the lamp on. Standing from the bed, you plant yourself in front of Spencer.

"What do you see?" you ask, with your hands on your hips.

Spencer's eyes rack your body from head to toe, especially double-taking your lower stomach, where your pregnant belly is. The answer is obvious to him.

"My perfect and sexy wife, standing almost naked in front of me, trying to kill me because I can't touch her yet."

You roll your eyes, huffing. "Spencer, be serious, please."

"I am! Baby, I don't know why you could think I'm not being honest with you."

There is a scold on the tip of your tongue, but you relent, changing it for a deep sigh.

"But look at me! These-" you say, eyes darting between your breast and the skin of your stomach. "There is no chance this is sexy. I'm bloated half of the time; my skin feels gross, and the stretch marks are more every day. And my tits! God, if I unhook my bra, they are going to fall to the floor!"

It's true, your body isn't the same as it was a couple of months ago, and it'll probably continue to change as the weeks go by, but for Spencer, that doesn't make you any less attractive or desirable—quite the opposite.

"Hey, look at me, please," Spencer asks in a soft voice. You do as he says, now feeling more exposed in front of him. Spencer notices and takes your hands to bring you closer to him.

"You know you're carrying a human being in your womb, right?" he asks, tracing soft patterns with his finger over the skin of your arms. "That makes your body not look or feel the way it usually does. But it's perfectly natural, and I'm sure you know that." Spencer stops to kiss your stomach. "What you don't seem to know is that every change makes you more perfect than you already are. Love, you are perfect for who you are, and your body is perfect because it's yours—stretch marks or not, breasts enlarged or not, swollen or not."

"You have to say that," you complain with an adorable pout, and Spencer chuckles.

“I have to say that because it's true. Did I lie to you before?” You shake your head no. “Exactly.”

He pulls you to him so you can sit on his lap. Your arms rest loosely around his neck. He looks up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Love. You look amazing. Gorgeous. And so so sexy. I have been craving to touch you all night, renegaded to only see you from afar. That's torture,” Spencer says, lips hovering over your jaw before trailing down loving kisses—the feel of his wet lips pushing your heart rate to go up.

“You don't know what you do to me, do you? All these days thinking about you, what it's like to have you in my arms, what it's like to be able to kiss you, to smell you.” Spencer says, his fingers dancing over the patch of exposed skin of your breasts still clad in your bra. His lips sucking on that special spot on your neck. You can't help the nasty moan that leaves your mouth.

His eyes search yours for permission when one of his hands rests on the clasp of your bra. You nod, and he unclasps it, revealing your full breasts to him. You swear you hear him whimper at the sight, just as you feel him twitch beneath your thighs.

“Fuck, darling. They are so perfect. So round, so full, so soft,” Spencer praises as his mouth latches to one of your nipples and, with one hand, squeezes the flesh of your other breast. “I couldn’t stop all night thinking about doing this. Claiming these perfect tits.”

“Spencer, fuck!” you moan when he sucks harder. “Yes!”

“So sensitive. These tits are all mine,” Spencer mumbles as he switches his mouth from one nipple to the other.

He keeps lapping, swirling his tongue, sucking. It's like he can't have enough of it. And you can feel it in your bones.

'Extasis' keeps it short to explain how you feel right now. Just with the use of his mouth, Spencer is already pushing you close to the edge. In the back of your mind, you can hear his voice explaining how nipple stimulation can produce orgasms. You didn't think it would be possible at the time, but now you're nearing experiencing it.

"Spence, please. Just -"

One of his hands travels south, leaving goosebumps in its wake until it reaches the waistband of your panties.

“Tell me what you need, baby. And I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you to touch me,” you mewl, your voice cracking with desire.

“Here?” Spencer teases, trailing feather touches across your inner thigh. His mouth marks your neck, his favorite spot on you.

“More. Please, don’t make beg,” you plead. Spencer’s smirk could tell he was not done with the teasing. But in all honesty, he doesn't know how much he can contain himself.

“My baby is desperate already. Let's see how much.” A hand sneaks under your panties, and the slick pooling there tells Spencer everything he needs to know.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. It’s all for me?” He cockily asks as his fingers tease your folds. You gasp at the contact of his fingers on you.

“For you only. Spencer, I’m yours. Always.”

“And I am yours. No matter what. I love you so much,” Spencer says, now claiming your mouth with a searing kiss. It's like he wants to devour you whole, beyond the physics laws, if it's possible.

You let yourself go, kissing him urgently, your fingers tangled in his hair, giving experimental tugs, which Spencer rewards with grunts of pleasure.

You don't realize when you start rocking on his lap, seeking more friction from his fingers.

Spencer continues his assault on your center, alternating the thrusting of his fingers in and out with rubbing against your clit.

"Oh, God!" You whine, not fully believing how good it feels.

“So good, my love. So so good,” Spencer chants. His free hand on your back, maneuvering to lay you down on the mattress without stopping his ministrations in your pussy, and latching his lips to the crook of your neck. The new position allows him to reach deeper inside you with his fingers, massaging that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

“Right there! Oh, please.” You are on the verge of falling, your body surrending to Spencer’s experimented touch. He knows your body better than you.

Your moans go straight to Spencer’s cock, twitching inside his boxers, rock-hard and screaming for attention, but he has a mission before ever thinking of his pleasure. He needs you to come on his fingers first.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?”

“Yes! I’m so - so close,” you cry.

“I can feel you clenching on my fingers. That's it. Let go, my love. Cum for me; let me feel you,” Spencer encourages, and it's the last push you need. Your vision goes white, and your body starts to shake. The coil snaps and flows your body with waves of pleasure.

“Fuck! Yes!” You cry as your orgasm travels through your body. “Spencer! Yes!”

Spencer doesn’t stop the in and out of his fingers, still rubbing your clit, at a slower pace, helping you to ride it out. His breath is hot on your neck, mumbling praises of how good you are, how much he has missed you, and how good you feel around his fingers.

When the aftershocks subside, Spencer carefully retracts his fingers, sucking them clean before passionately kissing you. You can taste yourself on his lips, fueling the desire to have more of him.

“I missed you,” you say, still breathless. Spencer lies on the mattress by your side, stroking your cheek.

“And I missed you. Both of you,” he says, now rubbing a hand over your belly. You let out a content sigh. “We don’t have to do anything else tonight. We can just prepare to go to bed.”

Your head snaps up in an instant.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No! We’re not done, mister. We have a lot of days apart to make it up to.”

Spencer laughs. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Start with those boxers. Get them off,” you command, kneeling on the mattress and suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline. Spencer pulls his boxers down, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. It's hard, red, and already leaking precum. And your mouth waters.

“Like the view?” He teases.

“Very,” you shamelessly reply, gawking at the way his cock twitches under your gaze. You position between his legs. He is at your level sight with his elbows on the mattress. You wrap a hand around his shaft, giving a light squeeze, as your other hand looks purchase on his thigh. Spencer hisses at the contact.

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he reminds you, knowing this position could be uncomfortable for you.

“Oh, yes, I have to,” you counter. “I have been thinking about sucking you off for weeks, Spencer. Weeks!”

Spencer laughs at your dramatics, but still, he reaches for your chin to tilt up so you can look at him.

“Just let me know if it's too much, and we can stop, okay?”

Did you mention before about how careful he has been treating you since you discovered you were pregnant? Yes, you did. And here is a reminder.

“Okay,” you reassure him, giving an experimental lick at the tip. The salty taste just encourages you to lick the underside, from base to tip and back and forth. Spencer’s moans are music for your ears. You lower yourself now, taking him in your mouth—inch by glorious inch.

There is something special about giving Spencer head, and it’s beyond the sexual component of pushing him to orgasm. It's about the way he surrenders to your touch, the way he is splayed over the bed at your mercy. The way he trusts you in such a vulnerable position. He doesn't rush you; he’s pliant at your pace because he knows you know how to pleasure him.

“Fuck!” he groans when you go deeper. “So good, baby. You take it so good.”

As him with yours, you relish on his praises. He never stops complimenting you and vocalizing the way you make him feel. Evidence of how much you like it is the pool of wetness forming in your center just hearing him moan and talk.

With renewed vigor, you keep bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue, and extracting the more nasty and sexy noises from Spencer’s lips.

“Just - just like that. You are doing amazing.” His hands rest over your head, but he doesn’t push or pull; he just grounds himself in the midst of the pleasure cloud he is in.

But when that knowing coil is forming on him, Spencer knows he needs you to stop, or he won’t last much.

Gently, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back. You understand the signal and release him with a pop.

“What is it? You don’t want to?” You ask, licking your lips full of fluids of both of you. Spencer is panting, shaking his head no.

“You were amazing, but I don’t want to cum yet. And I want to cum inside of you.” The admission makes the heat in your body rise.

His hand caresses lovingly your cheek as you’re sitting on your haunches on the mattress. Spencer sits with his back on the headboard, raking your entire naked body from head to toe. His eyes are full of adoration.

Leave it to Spencer to look at you like you were Afrodite's incarnation, even with your grown breasts and bloated body.

“What?” You ask, giggling out of nervousness. Years with him, and that piercing gaze still makes your heart flutter.

"Marvelous. So beautiful. The most gorgeous. Perfect.”

Before you can protest the overflowing compliments, Spencer's hands cup your face to pull you into a deep kiss. You kiss him back with urgency, straddling him. Spencer’s hands go to your waist to keep you in place, where you belong, on top of him. From that position, you can feel his cock twitching with want.

"Spencer-" you mumble in his lips, almost like a whisper.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asks, focusing on how you start swaying your hips, making contact with his hardness, and settling him on fire.

“I need to ride you, now,” you plead, and Spencer can’t say no to you even if he tried.

“Then ride me. Take everything you need from me,” Spencer says, leaving the grasp of your hips so you can lift yourself to position his cock at your entrance. You start to sink and you both are gasping for air. It feels so good. You feel so full with every pull and push of your core into Spencer’s cock. It's a sensation that never gets old.

“That's it. You are doing so well. Take your time,” Spencer reminds you, but you have been craving him so much that you don’t have patience anymore. Spencer's hands come back to your hips, and yours rest on his shoulders for balance. With a last bounce, you’re full to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You hiss. The stretching is a mix of pain and pleasure that’s driving you insane. Spencer’s concerned eyes seek yours.

“You okay?” He asks, his gaze now raking your body, looking for something that can tell him about your discomfort.

“Yes! I’m okay—more than okay,” you assure him. Then you remember there is something he needs to know, something you need from him.

"Spencer, look at me," you demand, and he does what you ask.

"Yeah?" he pants, eyes mapping your face for any sign of what you want to say.

"I want something. Better said, I need something,” you pant, feeling already the urge to move.

"Okay, whatever you need. I'll give it to you."

"I need to feel you. All of you.” Spencer nods.

“You are feeling me now, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Spencer. I’m talking about being rough. I need it hard. Please, baby, don't hold back."

“Oh.” Realization hits him at the same time you clench around him. “Fuck. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Love, I promise you, you won’t break me.”

Spencer looks still hesitant.

“Please, don’t deprive me of you. I need to be consumed by you. I need to feel you everywhere; I need to be reminded I'm yours, and you're mine. Remind me you’re the only one who can have me like this. Remind me who put this baby in me.”

The way Spencer’s cock twitches inside of you and the groan escaping his lips is enough for you to know he got the memo.

His eyes darkened even more, and you could swear you saw a smirk on his face.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, do you?” he says, thrusting up so you can feel him deeper.

“Ah! Show me! Give me what you think I deserve, please,” you beg, and for Spencer is the last straw. With both hands on your hips, he starts to bounce you up and down. Your hands rest on his stomach as you try to catch a rhythm. It starts messy and frantic, and you can’t care less. You’re riding Spencer, and that's what matters.

“So tight. I don’t know how I can fit here. Feels amazing.” Spencer's voice is strained, breathless.

As you gain more control over your movements, the grinding intensifies. Every part of your body is on fire. The bounce of your breasts makes Spencer feral.

“These tits. Are mine. All mine,” Spencer chants, hands squeezing them. “You’re mine.”

Damn right, you think. You are his. Every part of you is his, in the same way you are claiming him as yours right now.

Not fully satisfied with touching, Spencer leans forward and captures one of your nipples with his mouth, one arm around your waist to help you as you keep riding him.

“Fuck! Spencer!” You cry when he sucks harder. Tugging his hair, you speed your rhythm, feeling the coil forming, a new orgasm approaching.

At some point your legs start to falter, the exertion making them cramp, but you don’t want to stop. Spencer notices, though.

“I’ve got you,” he says, maneuvering you on your back without pulling out. Now he’s on top, and your legs over his shoulders. “That’s better, uh?”

You nod eagerly. “But don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t.”

With this new angle, Spencer thrusts deeper and harder. It's all you have wanted for weeks. The sinful sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, and you can respire the smell of sweat and sex.

“Yes! Just like that!”

“Oh, so you wanted it harder, uh? My sweet, dirty thing,” Spencer coos, head nestled in the crook of your neck. You feel his hot breath, how he’s panting while giving you precise and deliberate thrusts, in and out, in and out.

“Spence, I’m close,” you warn, and Spencer doesn't halt his movements, leaning a bit back to look at you.

“Me too, baby.”

You are a sight to behold. Your messy hair, sweat sparkling on your skin, eyes full of lust, the moans leaving your lips, tits bouncing with every thrust, and that bump, where your baby is. Spencer still can’t believe it's real.

“You’re so gorgeous. You look so good, pregnant with my baby. Everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Yours, always,” you half-sob, half-moan. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel it in your bones. Spencer knows exactly how to get you there. He’s almost there too.

“That’s what you want? That I keep you nice a knocked up all the time? Do you want my cum, don’t you?”

“Yes! All the time. Please.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you nice and full.” Spencer vows, kissing your calf and sneaking down his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles.

“Oh, God.”

You’re on the verge of falling. The wet sounds your bodies are making, the panting and moans, Spencer’s words, everything is pushing you to the edge.

“Come for me, come on my cock,” Spencer demands, and it is like your body has to comply because as the words leave his mouth, your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Fucking shit! Yes!” You scream, feeling your body trembling with pleasure. Spencer’s pace keeps, now chasing his own end.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, losing some rhythm. “So good for me.”

You can feel him twitching inside with each thrust as you clench your walls, still riding your high.

“Spencer, please. Cum inside. Fill me up, baby. I need it so bad,” you plead, and Spencer loses it. After a deep thrust, he grunts and stills inside, spilling everything he has. You feel his warmth filling you up, a content sigh leaving your lips.

For a few seconds, you both remain still, panting and trying to catch your breath. Spencer is the first to react. Not pulling out, he lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging them gently while he peppers your neck with kisses. You giggle, still drunk of post-orgasmic hormones.

“You did so good, my love,” he praises. Your hands cup his face so he can look at you.

“I love you, Spencer. I missed you so much,” you declare as you lean in to kiss his lips. Spencer reciprocates immediately. This kiss is sweet, not rushed, but takes your breath away as all Spencer’s kisses do.

“I love you, too,” he mumbles on your lips. “And it was torture being away from you for so many days. But I’m here right now; I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good, because tonight I’m not done with you yet.”

With the whimper that escapes Spencer’s lips and the twitch of his cock still inside of you, it’s clear he knows exactly how the night will go from here.

------------------

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #glowing #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams

1K notes · View notes

dcafanzine · 2 months ago

Text

May Update

Helllllooooo everyone! Sun and Moon and the Fanzine crew have been quietly working away here at Glitches and Glitterglue HQ but it’s about time you lovely people had an update! I think Moon is ready for a break after being worked so hard, but Sun will not accept anything less than perfect for you all!

Well, we are well on our way! We’ve now ironed out the last wrinkles with all our production companies and we’re super excited to share the results of our labour! We are just awaiting final proofs for the last changes on a couple of items and to give the green light to produce the goods.

Our next steps will be receiving the goods, boxing up and dispatching in waves! We cannot express how excited are to be so close to the finish line and have these bundles in your hands.

A few of you have been asking about tariffs and what these will be impacting. The tariffs (from our understanding and research) would mostly affect items being imported to the US, the zines and merch coming directly to our shipping team from manufacturers from overseas. We are planning on our US items being shipped to backers from within the US and many of our international items being shipped from the UK, with a few exceptions. This was always our plan to both help split the load for our team and this should also help with tariff issues should there be further problems and fees trickling through the shipping systems.

The honest answer is we’re charting uncertain waters with this but to our current understanding, this shouldn’t impact you but may slightly increase the waiting times for things to arrive with us. Should there be any need for further guidance, we will let you all know via update.

Sneak Peeks! Aren't they amazing? Some snippets of works you have to look forward to from the talented RAVLIKSBLOG, LYCANKEYY and ELDRITCH-BEETLE!

Annnnd here’s an updated timeline!

Updated Fazwatch Timeline

What's happening next? Here's the up to date estimated outline as of May 2025!

There were some small issues that have been resolved with our manufacturers, but after reviewing and finalizing proofs, items are in production!

We expect to begin receiving some items in the next few weeks and into June. Here is the updated timeline reflecting the delay.

February-March 2025: Funds Received & Items Ordered! We have received the funds from Kickstarter and are in the process of finalizing our order details and sending all of the amazing art to our manufacturers. Proof and Production times can vary, but we will send updates to backers as details are finalized and items go into production.

April-May 2025: Proofs Reviewed, Revised, & Approved. Printing and Manufacturing is underway! Proofs received from manufacturers and our team has reviewed everything for quality and accuracy. This process can go back and forth multiple times. With the final approval of the art, the manufacturers will begin production!

June 2025: We will send out Backer Surveys to confirm everyone's shipping details. We are planning on surveys being sent out in June, but will send an update prior to sending and to remind backers to look for them once they are sent.

Mid June-July 2025 (estimated): Items arrive and fulfilment begins!

July-Sept of 2025 (estimated): Packages are Shipped & Digital Rewards are Sent! Once we have confirmed where everything needs to be shipped, we will begin to send out packages in waves. This does mean that everyone's packages will not arrive around the same time, but this in unavoidable with how many of you there are! It will be during this time we plan to send out the digital rewards.

More detailed information on digital reward fulfilment will be coming in a future update.

These are estimated dates that we’ll be able to further refine as we get farther along in the process. These may change depending on manufacturing, and other factors we have done our best to plan for.

Thank you all for your patience and I’m sure you’ll hear more good news from us soon!

#dca fan zine #dca fanzine #glitches and glitterglue zine #zine update #dca fandom

589 notes · View notes

heavenly-reaper · 3 months ago

Text

brief thing i wrote and haven't finished!! let me know if you want me to finish it pls thanks.

daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: smut (kinda, didn't really get to the p in v stuff), swearing, degradation etc, slight brat taming? fuck knows honestly

Daryl Dixon was many things, of which you have noticed over the several years you have fought for your life beside eachother. He was smart, insanely good at adapating to his environment, was able to get himself out of any situation he found himself in, but he was also incredibly mean when he wanted to be. And that was whenever he was around you.

You and Daryl had been together since practically the beginning of the outbreak, and you had never once been able to put aside your difference to help one another. Even though about ten years had passed since the beginning, the dynamic between the two of you had not changed whatsoever. And part of you loved hated it.

Daryl was always mean and downright awful to you sometimes. He didn't approve of your job before the fall (god knows how he found out) and he didn't approve of the fact that you were still alive now, ten years on. He couldn't get past the fact that a stripper had adapted to the new world so much, that she was alive now and the people he considered his family wasn't.

And today was no exception. You and Daryl were paired together to go on a run together, much to your dismay, and the run was quite a long one at that. You had estimated that you would be gone for nearly a month as you had to get enough supplies to last nearly six. You really couldn't be dealing with that right now.

Begrudgingly, you walked over to the motorcycle that Daryl insisted on bringing everywhere, and slung your legs over it. You put before your hands on the handles and made a pretend motorcycle noise. You giggled slightly to yourself, you knew that if you got caught doing this on the rednecks favourite possession, you would, quite frankly, be dead.

Just as you were about to get off and wait for the man to come along, you heard a scoff from behind you. "Fuck are ya doin'." The voice said, coarse and scratchy.

You winced inwardly, knowing exactly who it was. You quickly got off and bit your lip, thinking of a way to get out of the situation you had got yourself in. "Uh, nothin'." you spoke, voice meek.

Another scoff from Daryl travelled through you. "Didn't look like nothin'." He shook his head and got on his motorcycle, staring at you to get on. Quickly realising he wanted to go, you did as ordered. You weren't sure if you should wrap your arms around his midriff, so your arms just layed awkwardly at your sides.

"Do you wanna die?" Daryl asks with an eyebrow raise.

"Huh?" You reply, somewhat confused. What does he mean, do i wanna die?

You could almost sense his eye roll, "If ya ain't gonna put ya arms around me, ya gonna fall off." His response was obvious, it may have sounded sincere, but you knew it was done mockingly. "Come on sweetheart, I don't bite."

You did as told and wrapped your arms around his waist, you could smell his musk from his neck. He smelt absolutely divine. The way this man made you feel was something you never thought you'd experience. Daryl oozed dominance, and he showed it in everything he did. And you fucked lapped it up like a puppy every damn time.

As Daryl revved the engine, you caught a glimpse of his hands on the bars. Just looking at them made heat spread throughout your tummy and down to your cunt. You tried (and failed) to clamp your thighs shut to relieve some of the pressure, but to no avail.

Sighing slightly to yourself, you tried to ignore the immense horniness that had washed over you in the past ten seconds and focused on the situation at hand. You couldn't wait for this run to be over.

After nearly four hours of riding, you and Daryl decided to set up camp for the night and continue the ride tomorrow as it was getting dark. Un(lucky) for you, however, the place you found was an old shack that could barely fit two people in.

"So," you started, looking around the shack that was the same size as a small bedroom, "who's sleeping where?" You ask genuinely, confused on the sleeping arrangements. There was one bed and a couch that could barely be considered one, it was more of a chair, at best.

Daryl didn't even give you an answer, just a shrug. It seemed he was more invested in his packet of cigarettes, as he puffed away at one.

"Seriously," you scoffed. You stalked over to him and snatched the packet away and threw it away somewhere, "you could actually respond to me, dude, instead of smoking yourself to death." You finish with a slight roll to your eyes.

Daryl did nothing but stare daggers into you, almost daring you to say anything else. When you didn't, he got up from his position and grabbed the previously mentioned cigarettes off the floor and put one in the corner of his mouth. "Oh, really?" He smirked, the cigarette bouncing slightly with the movement of his lips.

"Yes, really." You replied rolling your eyes, "You may not like me, believe me, it's not a one way street, but you need to get a fucking grip." You say, eyes full of fire. "I mean, we're stuck together on this fucking run," you continue, starting to pace throughout the shack, "for a month, might i add, so you could atleast try to engage in conversation once in a blue fucking moon."

You let out a breath, stopping where you were and turning back to face Daryl. His eyes were just boring into you, no expression, no emotion, nothing. You had no clue what that man was thinking as of right now.

"You're right," he answers simply, words echoing throughout the small wooden building.

You're taken back by his answer, "I-I am?" you say, looking confused and somewhat inquisitive to hear why.

"I don't like ya," His answer was sharp and to the point. He walked closer to you, making you walk four steps back, banging into the wall. The feel of the hard wood on your back made you wince. "I don't understand how a fuckin' stripper survived this long," he starts, walking straight up to you and caging you between him and the wall. "I mean, you were nothin' but a whore people payed money to see, what makes ya so special that you should be alive now and they aren't?"

You could smell the scent of tabacco on his tongue, and the looking in his eyes were full of hidden rage that would mostly go hidden. You knew what he meant by 'they', as in Glenn and Abraham, Merle and Hershel, Tyreese and Beth, all the people you had lost throughout, all the people you had outlived. Some were more intelligent than you, some more quick witted and smart, others just knew how to handle themselves. Daryl was right, how had you, a stripper, outlived them all?. And that was what made his words all the more painful, because no lies were told.

"I-I'm not a whore." You say, stuttering slightly, you latched onto the one thing that Daryl had said that you did disagree with.

Daryl scoffed at you, eyes raking over your body. He noticed the way your breasts slightly spilled over your v-neck shirt and the way your shorts hugged your thighs just enough to tease the redneck. The look he was giving you set your body alight, even though he had said some downright degrading shit to you, just the way he was looking at you turned you the fuck on. "Ya sure about tha?" He replies slyly, taking note of your heavy breathing, and the way you refused to make eye contact with him. "You're saying that if I stick my hand down ya pretty lil' underwear, ya won't be wet?" He smirks at you, hands brushing at your thigh.

Looking at him, all you could muster up was a meek little, "fuck you."

Daryl did nothing but laugh, he moved his hand further down your jeans and dipped into your underwear, barely touching the place you wanted, no, needed him the most. "Sweetheart, you ain't gonna be doin' the fuckin' round here." The look on his face was sinister, yet his eyes were darkened with lust, further accentuated by the bugle in his trousers.

Daryl finally put his fingers into your underwear and felt your pussy making you let out a long moan. He collected all the juices that had accumulated over the past few minutes and shoved a finger into your wet hole, eliciting a gasp from you. Just before you could get any real pleasure out of it, he had already pulled out his hands and showed you his now glistening fingers, scoffing at them," "Fuckin' pathetic. Barely touched ya' and ya' already wet" He brought up the fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, "Guess ya' are just a lil whore, ain't ya."

The feeling of his touch burned you, and sent a heat down to your belly once again. You tried to alleviate some of the friction by rubbing your thighs together, but to no avail. Daryl pushed your legs back apart and pinned your hands above your head and against the wall. His eyes raked over you again, your blown pupils and your hooded eyes and the way your lips were parted made his cock twitch. You looked fucked out before he had even touched you. He was right, you did look pathetic.

#dom daryl dixon smut #dom daryl smut #daryl x you #brat tamer daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader smut #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader smut

117 notes · View notes

tenebrous-if · 1 year ago

Text

LINKS:

🜲 Play the Game

Estimated Release: N/A

🜲 FAQ

🜲 Pinterest

🜲 Character Descriptions

🜲 Family Descriptions

🜲 Map of Arvandor

🜲 Genre(s): Fantasy, Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, and Action/Adventure.

🜲 Rating: Tenebrous is an 18+ Fantasy IF set within the mythical world of Arvandor.

The Kingdom of Aetheria, within the world of Arvandor, is a nation ripe with history. King Lysander du Aetheria rose up and led the fledgling Aetherian Army against The Forsaken One— Herald of the Abyssal Uprising— and came out victorious when everyone else had failed. With his victory, Lysander placed Aetheria as one of the key pillars of keeping Arvandor safe; allowing for peace to reign over the continent for centuries.

Peace, however, was never meant to last.

The Order of Netheron, Followers of The Forsaken One, had captured you at the tender age of fifteen, holding you captive for a decade within a tower only labeled as “The Spire”. All due to their wish of resurrecting their fallen deity— something that they believe could only be accomplished by using the blood of King Lysander’s descendants; it was a ritual that didn’t go as planned— one that did bring back their deity, but only for your eyes and ears only; the both of you attached to the other in a way that probably wasn’t intended.

And that’s how you spent the last decade of your life… Growing used to the presence that now appears whenever the time calls for it. It isn’t until your twenty-fifth year that you’re finally found and taken back to Aetheria, to everything you had long thought you’d lost.

Your time in the sun, however, was short-lived as the tidings of an even darker uprising was beginning to grow— one that threatens to demolish everything and everyone.

Can you figure out how to save your home?

🜲 Create your Aetherian Royal:

Name/Nickname

Gender [Male, Female, or Non-Binary]

Appearance

Hobbies

Personality [Mainly involving unique reactions to certain situations— the MC is semi-set in some ways]

🜲 Romance 1 of 4 potential love interests— each offering their own unique experience within the story and how the world at large will react to the burgeoning relationship.

🜲 Bond with your family after being apart for so long. They have missed you a great deal. [The MC is a middle child.]

🜲 Harness the magic that flows through your veins due to the gift of your blood.

🜲 Choose from a variety of skill sets that your MC may be able to acquire. [Note: This means you can choose something to specialize in, instead of having to constantly choose between being a diplomat or warrior. You can instead choose to be a swordsman while also focusing on the art of diplomacy.]

🜲 Build a codex from the various interactions that you can have throughout your story— from places, to people, to old legends that have tested the passage of time within Arvandor.

Astorian/Astoria du Aerilon: The Heir to Aerilon, and the person that was your betrothed from the time you were seven until your disappearance. Astorian/Astoria spent every winter with you, and you every summer with them, in hopes that a union between the both of you would bring your countries together. You remember many things from that time of your life: their warm laugh, brazen attitude, arrogant smirk, and their inability to stay still for long. Meeting them again? It simply proves how much can change in a decade. [Can choose to have been in an almost relationship with them or still rivals.]

William/Wilhelmina du Arvandor: A recent addition to the Holy Order, who has an iron-clad need to help and be of assistance to anyone that may require it. Being a Paladin has been something they’ve strived towards for the last eight years of their life; training being second to nothing. It’s simply a mere coincidence, or the Divine’s Will, that their first major mission was to rid Arvandor of the last dregs of Netheron… A mission that brought them to The Spire, with a small band of warriors, to carry out that very task— wherein they find the Lost Heir of Aetheria. You.

Gabriel/Gabrielle Adair: Being renowned within the arcane arts, having achieved the rank of High Mage within the Aetherian Institute of Magic, it’s of little surprise that the royal family of Aetheria would call on someone with their skill set— if it weren’t for the scandal that still plagues them. You’re not sure what could have been so bad that would force them to retreat within themself like they have, especially if your parents had seen them fit enough to tutor you, but it’s obviously something that weighs heavily upon them. Will it be possible to wrangle out the secrets of their past when you’re still trying to figure out your own gift?

Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis: The Forsaken One, an individual that’s visible only to your eyes from a ritual gone wrong. There isn’t much you can glean from them, after all you can only take what they say with a grain of salt, but the shadows that lurk within their eyes has nothing to do with the darkness that now lives within them. It’s hard sometimes to look at what they’ve become when you’ve seen what they were in Old Texts, when they weren’t the Forsaken One, weren’t the Divine’s Disgrace… When they were simply Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis, High Priest/Priestess of the Holy Order.

#tenebrous if #choice of games #hosted games #interactive novel #interactive fiction #wip #work in progress #high fantasy #romance #royalty

607 notes · View notes

anjalikestodraw · 6 months ago

Text

Sun drenched sofa days (2025)

inspired by and set directly after Love is a Witch - Chapter 6 by @beauttifullife

And as usual here is a tiny ficlet going along with the art. Enjoy :)

“So what do we want?” Rio mused aimlessly scrolling through the food delivery app.

They were lying on the couch Rio’s head resting comfortably on Agatha’s chest their legs entangled, Agatha’s hand absentmindedly running through Rio’s hair while watching a documentary.

“You choose.” Agatha responded not taking her eyes off the TV.

“No, I can’t decide.” Rio replied yawning.

She held her phone higher slightly blocking Agatha’s view of the TV screen.

“Help.” Rio demanded as Agatha tried to continue watching the programme past the other woman’s hand. “I am tired from my late night flight and I have no idea what I want.”

Finally peeling her eyes away from the programme, Agatha glanced at the phone and quickly scrolled to one of their usual delivery places jabbing her finger at the screen.

“This one’s always good. And you always say how much you love their dim sum stuff.” She explained her attention already back on the TV.

With a slow “Mhhh.” Rio brought the phone back down to her eye level and skimmed the menu.

“Or we can get tacos,” Agatha added clearly sensing Rio’s indecision. “I just thought you’d have had some good ones back home. Also the Chinese doesn’t deliver to yours, so…”

“Chinese it is.” Rio concluded after a moment.

She quickly picked her usual order from the menu adding some new dumplings she wanted to try and then scrolled to Agatha’s favourites.

“Your usual?” Rio asked slightly stretching her neck to try and look up at Agatha.

“Yeah,” Agatha replied her eyes still on the TV. Then with a sudden movement she looked down at Rio and added “Don’t order too much.”

“Never.” Rio replied smirking and sticking her tongue out before adding more items to the basket and checking for the estimated delivery time.

Agatha huffed knowing that they somehow always ended up with food for four. She returned her attention to the TV her hand automatically finding its way into Rio’s hair again.

Leaning into Agatha’s touch Rio thought how much she loved days like these. Weekends without plans, without pressing appointments or errands to run. Days filled with sunlight filtering through the big apartment windows but no need to be outside in the noise and hubbub of New York. Days spent tangled up with Agatha and them just being them. And she never had thought that this was what she would ever want but now that she had it she couldn’t imagine a life without it. Without her. Feeling Agatha’s fingers lightly scrape over her scalp Rio closed her eyes sighing gently.

She thought back to the stress of the day before, the frantic search for an earlier flight, the rush to the airport when she had finally managed to change her booking, and the half-hearted apologies to her extended family. The only person she had been sad to leave so early was her abuelita. But something in the old woman’s smile as she kissed Rio’s hand wishing her save travels told Rio that she knew how much Agatha meant to her, how different this situation was to any of her previous flings or short lived girlfriends. Her abuelita understood. And yes, coming back after a mere three days apart had seemed pathetic. But having this extra time with Agatha had absolutely been worth all the stress and extra money she had spent.

Letting out a contended sigh Rio inched closer into Agatha’s side, draping her leg over Agatha’s and lifting her head up just enough so she could fully see her lover’s face. Looking at the woman’s profile her gaze swept from her beautiful messy hair flowing in waves around her face, over her perfect nose and lips to her sharp blue eyes so intently watching the programme they had put on. And of course the sweater; her old worn out Texas Longhorn hoodie, which Agatha was still wearing.

“Riooo?” Agatha asked drawing out her name, while her eyes remained trained on the TV a faint smile playing around her lips.

“Nothing.” Rio replied still quite obviously staring at Agatha.

Agatha raised her eyebrows and stole a glance at her before looking back at the TV.

“I was just thinking…” Rio added smiling softly. “…how much I love this.”

“I love Chinese food, too.” Agatha replied a little too quickly still staring straight ahead.

But Rio knew better. She knew all too well that Agatha was only feigning ignorance and had fully understood Rio’s meaning. She knew this was simply how Agatha was, always masking her feelings with humour, deflecting, struggling to put into words what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. And Rio had gotten used to it, she even had started to love this little quirk of hers. She didn’t just love Agatha despite of who and how she was, she loved her because of it, with all her little bumps and edges. And even if she hadn’t been fully fluent in 'Agatha', the broad smile on her lover’s face was a dead giveaway. Biting her lip and shaking her head slightly Rio let out a low chuckle.

“Food will be here in forty.” She said tossing her phone onto the couch before resting her head back onto Agatha’s chest.

“Good.” Agatha replied pulling Rio closer to herself and planting a kiss on the top of her head.

Smiling at the gentle gesture Rio reached for Agatha’s hand entwining their fingers and shuffling into the other woman’s body. Having found a comfortable position she finally returned her attention back to the TV.

“I love this, too.” Agatha whispered after a while, her thumb tracing circles on Rio’s hand.

Feeling a familiar warmth spread in her chest Rio raised Agatha’s hand to her mouth kissing the back of it.

“I know.” Rio replied quietly and she could feel Agatha’s hand squeezing hers lightly.

“You know what I would love even more though?” Rio mused a sudden thought entering her mind. “When the delivery guy comes I think you should get the door - seeing as you are wearing your new favourite sweater.”

Lifting her head up again to see Agatha’s reaction Rio put on her signature smirk.

“Your favourite sweater.” Agatha corrected her, turning to face Rio her eyes narrowed.

“You are the one wearing it.” Rio pointed out with a shrug feigning innocence.

Taking in her lover’s frown Rio’s grin widened thinking of another tease. But before she could add anything else Agatha’s hand grabbed one of the sofa cushions and shoved it into Rio’s face.

“Hey!” Rio protested her voice muffled by the pillow as she fell backwards into the couch.

Propping herself back up she put one hand on either side of Agatha’s face locking her in.

“Not cool.” Rio said trying to look angry but her features betrayed her as she was smiling down at Agatha.

“I might still burn it.” Agatha teased with a wink.

“Oh... you wouldn’t dare.” Rio replied sticking her tongue in her cheek.

Agatha only raised an eyebrow in response a mischievous look on her face. With one smooth movement she grabbed Rio’s waist and tossed her to the side planting one knee on either side of Rio’s hips reversing their positions. Triumphantly she looked down at Rio with a cocky smile.

“You’re impossible.” Rio huffed but she couldn’t stifle a laugh.

Reaching up Rio grabbed the front of the orange hoodie gently pulling Agatha down.

“I still think you should get the door later.” Rio whispered one hand wandering into Agatha’s hair while her gaze flitted down to her lover’s lips.

“Over my dead body.” Agatha growled without any real bite to her voice before closing the distance between them. Her hands snaked behind Rio’s neck pulling her closer into a long passionate kiss forgetting all about the documentary still running on the TV, their food order, or for a fact, the world around them.

#agathario #agatha all along #aubrey plaza #kathryn hahn #fanart #fanfic #Love is a Witch fanart #Agatha Harkness #Rio Vidal #Agathario AU #rio x agatha #vidarkness #I am actually really happy with how this painting turned out #and I put some real hours into it #Thank you beauttifullife for gifting us with this amazing AU

125 notes · View notes

augustjoy · 1 year ago

Text

Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy. Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves.

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.” You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team.

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

627 notes · View notes

trans-ralsei · 27 days ago

Text

"I just wanted to come thank you."

I'm sitting on a lounge chair with my friend, watching the crowd at Pride put something into a time capsule in the distance, when this girl walks by.

I'd been a volunteer at Pride for a few years now, for the city-wide movement for trans rights. This year's Pride was hot, wet, just like how June usually is here in the home city. Humid and damp. It rained earlier, so the weather was cooler, but I was so... worn out, having been talking to countless people about what we do and our community for the last five hours, waving around a Pride flag.

This girl had come over, and asked if I was from the movement. And that was when she came and said "I just wanted to come thank you."

We'd been building our resources, revamping our resource website, and setting up new social events and public dialogues for the past year. She said that she had been reading up on the guides that we wrote, the guides that I helped write, in order to transition and live as herself.

That was a story more than one person had told me through the day.

I make a quick joke about how my mission as a lesbian was to make more girls.

Midway, the emcee talks about how the time capsule would only be open in 25 years.

25 years, when I am 57. I cannot imagine myself at that age, now that I'm writing this. But as the emcee talks about 2050 and taking a wefie and leaving a polaroid in the time capsule I say to this girl:

"Let's be here in 2050, when they open the time capsule. They left my stuff in there! I better see you there. Promise me you'll be here."

"Yes, I will!"

I give her a warm hug.

And as the field lights up in pink and as the crowd huddles to form up for Pride, I notice my friend break into tears. There was someone close to her that would have been here, she says. Someone who was almost a mirror of herself. She would have watched the capsule close. She would have been here to watch it be opened. But she wasn't here anymore.

I hold her as she cries.

I haven't lost anyone in this way. It's weird, I know. We've never really had real estimates of how many of us want to leave. We've never really had real estimates of how many people we've lost, how many people we've buried under the wrong names.

I think about the day when it happens, when we finally open the capsule. I want all my friends to be here, joking about how we submitted this thing so long ago, about the world we were living in. I want them to look at my submission and go: "I can't believe you used to wear that."

When I sent in my item for the time capsule at Pride I was asked about what I wished future generations would know when they saw it in 2050. Along with my transmasc friend I wrote: "I hope people remember that there was a time when our journey to be ourselves was difficult and arduous."

But now I wonder if a trans girl in 2050 would still continue to struggle. Would they take a look at our stories and feel like nothing has changed? Would they feel like we've achieved nothing?

Or would they go "damn what kind of shit was going on in 2025?"

I hope I live to find out.

#trans #transblr #ral.txt

81 notes · View notes

kifflepiffles · 29 days ago

Text

GUYS HELP MY BROKE ARTIST FRIEND VIA COMMISIONS!!

He's a very good artist and he's also very sexy that should be enough to convince you /silly

Info From him:

Rules:

No hardcore fetish content

No agere/age regression

No age change

Art of young characters is okay but only in family-friendly circumstances.

Art of real people is okay, non-sexualized.

Furry/anthro is okay, non-sexualized.

What I offer and their prices:

Digital art

Bust: colored $2 / rendered $3

Extra characters: colored $0.50 / rendered $1

Full body: colored $5 / rendered $10 / (dynamic +$3)

Extra characters: +$2 per person colored / +$5 per person rendered / (dynamic +$1)

Comics:

4 panels: lineart $15 / colored $20 / rendered $35

Plus every extra panel: lineart +$1 / colored +$2 / rendered +$4

Rendered background fee: $5

Smut fee: $2

Fetish fee: $1

Dead dove fee: $5

EXTRA FACTS:

Colored art is a flat color, whereas rendered art includes shadows, lighting, lineart smoothing, and more.

Examples:

A dynamic full-body render with an extra character and background would cost $24.

A colored bust with three people would be $4.

Comics will take much longer due to the excessive planning and higher effort that go into them.

Payment

How it works:

Because we can’t know exactly how much something is going to cost, we’ll take a starting payment of half the estimated overall payment.

If I believe the cost will come out to be $20, you’ll pay $10 to start, then I’ll finish the project and you can pay the other $10 after.

It operates on a trust system.

You trust me to deliver and make your money worth it; I trust you to pay the rest of the cost.

To ensure I’m not scammed, the final product will be blurred/heavily watermarked before the transaction; you’ll get it clean once you’ve paid fully.

Don’t feel overwhelmed! It sounds like a lot, but I’ll keep updating you the whole time. Plus, these rates are actually pretty cheap compared to other offers lol.

If I can’t get your product to you, you’ll receive a full refund.

Payment methods:

I use Cash App and Paypal.

If need be, I can move to another payment method instead.

My IDs will be sent to you through email; I don’t feel comfortable putting them here.

Finally, my email:

You can reach me at [email protected]

From Poster: Please note that I am not Ica! I'm posting this on his behalf! You can still DM me or comment if you have questions but it will go much faster and you will have direct contact if you email him!

Q AND A

Can I just pay the full price to start?

Unless it’s a cheap order, no. I don’t want to estimate something higher or lower than what the full product is worth; then either I would have to refund you some of the money or you would have to pay me more for the extra work.

Why so strict?

I’ve personally seen other creators get scammed, and I’m not trying to go through that myself lol.

What about the fees?

Smut, fetish, and dead dove all require focus to make it effective.

They are stackable! If you have fetish on top of smut, it will come out to be $3 in fees.

However, if you use all three (+$5 for DD) then I’ll discount it to $6 rather than $8.

As for Paypal/Cash App fees, whatever loss caused by fees will be accounted for in the final cost.

Can I leave a tip?

Pretty please <:3 I’ll give you a lil drawing of your choice.

EXTRA EXAMPLES (PLUS 15$ COMIC EXAMPLE):

60 notes · View notes

sch-com · 3 months ago

Text

my executive function model

I've heard the term "executive dysfunction" thrown quite a lot online, but I couldn't really pinpoint what exactly it means. I decided I first need to understand what executive function is first in order to make sense of it.

After some research (not a lot so take it with a big grain of salt) and self-reflection I developed an executive function model to better understand where I struggle and where I excel.

I identified 8 executive functions, split into primary and secondary, and defined how they interact with each other.

I created a diagram that illustrates and summarizes this model, kind of a tldr. The information from the diagram is described in the text in this post though. At the end of the post is an example of how this model applies to me specificaly.

core executive functions

Those I kept the same as in the research I did, as they seem to be more widely agreed upon.

Inhibitory control - suppressing inappropriate behavior, resisting distractions and urges, emotional control

Working memory - holding, recalling, and manipulating information, mental juggling

Cognitive flexibility - switching tasks, shifting attention, tolerating change, letting go of stuck thoughts

secondary executive functions

Those are more adjusted to fit my personal experience, and are in the sequence it which I personaly engage in activities.

Strategic analysis - understanding the problem, reasoning, generating solutions, predicting outcomes; you need to analyze the problem and generate what can be done about it

Decision-making - balancing risk, reward, and long-term outcomes, deciding on course of action; you need to then compare and decide on one of the courses of action from the generated ones

Planning and organization - planning, organizing, breaking tasks into steps, time estimation, prioritizing; once you know what you want to do, you have to plan the actual actionable steps of it, place when you will do them, in what sequence

Action initiation - getting started on tasks, overcoming inertia, avoiding procrastination; you actually need to follow through the plan, go and do the thing you planned

Self-monitoring - monitoring progress, noticing when you're off-task or overwhelmed, error detection, adjusting behavior, self-assessment; once doing the thing, you need to monitor yourself on how you're doing on the task but also notice if something else hasn't become more important

how they interact

The primary executive functions support the secondary, they are like building blocks of them:

1. Inhibitory control

Strategic analysis: prevents rushing to conclusions; allows pause and reflection before jumping to solutions

Decision-making: suppresses impulsive or emotionally-driven choices; supports delay of gratification

Planning and organization: helps avoid distractions when building plans and ignore irrelevant details

Action initiation: inhibits avoidance behaviors or urges to delay ("I’ll do it later")

Self-monitoring: suppresses defensive reactions to noticing errors; allows recalibration

2. Working memory

Strategic analysis: holds problem details, relevant knowledge, and potential solutions in mental space

Decision-making: maintains multiple options, their pros/cons, and predicted outcomes to compare

Planning and organization: tracks task steps, sequences, and dependencies during mental planning.

Action initiation: remembers what the task is and how to begin — even after delays or distractions

Self-monitoring: holds the original goal or plan in mind while checking current performance against it.

3. Cognitive flexibility

Strategic analysis: allows consideration of alternative problem framings or novel solutions

Decision-making: enables reevaluation of options and openness to changing course

Planning and organization: helps adjust plans dynamically if priorities shift or obstacles arise

Action initiation: Supports shifting mental state from rest to task-engaged mode

Self-monitoring: helps switch strategies mid-task, revise expectations, or tolerate outcomes that don’t go as expected

my personal application

Firstly, out of the three core executive functions my weakest one is working memory. I am quite good at the other two though.

Going off that profile of my primary executive functions, I perform as below in the secondary executive functions:

Strategic analysis - I excel at it. My high cognitive flexibility allows me to see a lot of options, and inhibition allows me to focus on analysing a problem for a long time. I compensate for my low working memory by writing things down, visualizing them etc.

Decision-making - I am rather bad at it. After I analyse the problem to its smallest components and generate lots of ideas in the first step, there are a lot of details to keep in mind when comparing them, and this is where my poor working memory struggles. I also have problems with confidence in my decisions, since I can so clearly see so many options possible and their consequences after my analysis.

Planning and organization - another area I am good at, because I can write things down or draw them out thus compensating for my bad working memory. Inhibition allows me to be realistic with my plan, and cognitive flexibility allows me to adapt it to the actual needs.

Action initiation - a real bottleneck in my process. At this stage I usually have so many details I can be easily overwhelmend with my poor working memory. Also it involves deciding to do the thing, and we already know I struggle with decisions. My high inhibition may also cause a lot of hesitation here.

Self-monitoring - I am moderately good at it. I can struggle with keeping the original goal of the task in mind because of poor working memory, but can manage if it's cleary defined and written down. High congnitive flexibility allows me to adjust my actions according to the performance, and inhibition allows me to avoid distractions and reflect without becoming emotional.

As you can see from this picture, I clearly can benefit the most from using various visual aids and allowing myself to "think on paper" rather than forcing myself to hold everything in my brain. I just seem to have small RAM, but my processor is quite strong.

#schcomtalk #executive function #executive dysfunction #actually autistic #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #autism

69 notes · View notes

art-missy · 11 months ago

Text

Omen could be spooky. Master of shadows and teleportation, ambush expert and underestimated strategist. An air of authority and superiority radiated from each of his movements. He was a very estimated agent of the protocol, respected by all, and a very feared oppenent on the field.

Who would have thought that his room would be so cozy ?

"How the hell did you manage to have a fireplace in here ?"

"I have my ways," he answered casually.

He was calmly knitting, sat on a rocking chair but you also had his attention. His bed was carefully made but you doubted he ever used it. Some bonsai trees were put on some shelves as well as some books, and the room was only illuminated by the dim but warm light of the fire. You kept looking around and —was that Dizzy sleeping in the corner ?— noticed the book you recommended to him a few days ago on his bed table.

"Can I help you with something ?" he suddenly asked, exiting you from your daze.

You blinked, looked back at him then cleared your throat.

"Uhm...I came to give your knife back," you said as you handed him the weapon. "Thanks again. It was truly useful for yesterday's mission."

Dizzy raised her head slightly to take a look at you, then decided to changes spot to rest on the pillows of the bed instead.

You saw the three stripes of the wraith's face slightly dilating, as if he was observing you better. Unbeknownst to you, your presence had the odd ability to soothe him. Everytime you were around, Omen found himself feeling more stable. You also amused him. He found the surprise in your eyes as you looked around adorable.

He nodded and invited you to sit down on the bed.

"You seem tired," he said calmly.

You avoided his gaze and started to fidget your fingers. You took a deep breath then slowly released it.

"I'm not tired."

"Exhausted then ?" he hummed as he momentarily stopped knitting.

He always observed you, silently watching over you. He started to worry when he saw you weakening. He felt you less lively than usual, more tired, too feeble and too hardworking.

"That's..." you sighed and looked down on your lap. "That's one way to put it."

"Don't overwork yourself," he said firmly "Rest."

His words felt like there were on the tight line between a request and an order. You sighed, feeling yourself weakening even more under the intensity of his gaze. You lied down on the bed —like you thought, the bed was barely used— and your eyelids started to feel heavier.

"I recommend you stop going on mission until you feel better," he murmured, his voice had a soothing effect that embrace your ears in a cozy warmth.

Your already frail resolve shattered at his words. You felt Dizzy nuzzling against you as sleep slowly took you away. He watched you fall asleep and resumed his knitting. Several hours passed and you still shared a quiet and cozy moment. Even though you were unconscious, you had never felt as relaxed as you did now. You internally thanked Omen.

And Omen internally thanked you. For finally taking care of yourself, and for your company.

Needless to say that you started spending a lot of time in his dorm. He helped you rest, and you helped him feeling more stable.

#valorant x reader #valorant imagines #valorant fanfiction #valorant fluff #valorant omen #valorant omen x reader #omen x reader #omen #★nana is writing…#valorant fanfic

179 notes · View notes

asestimationsconsultants · 18 days ago

Text

How a Construction Cost Estimating Service Helps Minimize Project Risk

Risk is an unavoidable part of construction—but with the right tools and expertise, it can be effectively managed. One of the most proactive ways to reduce risk early in a project is by hiring a professional construction cost estimating service. From budgeting to procurement, these services create financial clarity that helps avoid delays, disputes, and cost overruns.

What Are the Main Risks in Construction?

Common project risks include:

Budget overruns

Scope creep

Material and labor shortages

Unforeseen site conditions

Poor contractor pricing

Scheduling delays

Each of these risks can lead to added costs, contractual disputes, or missed deadlines. An experienced estimator helps manage and reduce these variables from day one.

How Estimating Services Reduce Risk

Accurate Budget Forecasting By analyzing drawings, specifications, and historical cost data, estimators deliver realistic budgets that reduce the chance of surprise expenses.

Contingency Planning Estimates often include contingency percentages to account for design changes, market volatility, or hidden conditions. This buffer helps prevent budget shocks.

Detailed Takeoffs and Cost Breakdowns By providing itemized quantities and pricing for materials and labor, estimators eliminate guesswork. Contractors and clients alike benefit from clear scope alignment.

Market-Specific Cost Data Estimators use regional pricing data to ensure the estimate reflects actual market conditions—critical for preventing underbidding or underfunding.

Bid Analysis and Comparison Some services assist in reviewing contractor bids, helping clients identify errors or inflated pricing before contracts are signed.

Scenario Planning and Value Engineering Estimators can present alternative design or material choices that lower cost without sacrificing quality—adding flexibility to respond to unforeseen issues.

Who Benefits from This Risk Management?

Homeowners with tight budgets

Commercial developers with financing milestones

Government agencies with strict cost controls

General contractors managing multiple trades

Architects needing early-stage cost guidance

Conclusion

Construction cost estimating services do far more than generate numbers—they provide critical risk-reducing insights that support sound decision-making. By identifying potential financial pitfalls early, estimators help ensure projects stay on track, on budget, and on time.

#how estimators reduce construction risk #risk management with estimating service #budgeting to prevent construction delays #how to avoid construction budget overruns #estimating service with risk control #construction contingency planning #role of estimators in project risk #reducing cost overrun with estimates #estimating for better risk management #construction project risk planning #value engineering to minimize risk #estimator’s role in contract risk #avoiding change order risk #cost estimator to prevent budget shocks #minimizing scope creep with estimates #takeoffs for risk reduction #how to use estimates to avoid surprises #regional pricing and project risk #estimating for schedule protection #estimating support for tight budgets #controlling project costs with estimator #how estimates help manage construction issues #bid comparison to reduce financial risk #cost analysis for risk prevention #identifying hidden costs early #estimator’s risk management checklist #construction risk forecasting with estimate #early budgeting to lower risk #estimator insights to reduce uncertainty #smart estimating for safe projects

0 notes

muscle-awakening · 3 months ago

Text

From Twink To Titan: Jamie’s Ascension

Jamie was a quiet, soft-spoken boy with a delicate frame and gentle green eyes that always seemed to search for kindness in a world that offered him none. At 5’4” and barely 50 kilograms, his brown hair fell messily over a face more pretty than handsome, and his clothes hung loosely on his slender body. Invisible to most, bullied by many, Jamie often walked through school halls like a ghost—unnoticed, unprotected, and silently aching to become someone impossible to ignore.

Day 1 – The Shake That Changed Everything

Jamie sat alone in his room, the glow from his laptop the only light in the dark. He stared at his reflection in the blank screen—slender frame, narrow shoulders, collarbones visible through his oversized T-shirt. Eighteen years old, 5’4”, 50kg soaking wet. Brown hair curled softly at the edges, and his green eyes—usually full of something bright—looked tired. Dull.

He felt invisible. Not just at school, where jocks like Liam made a sport out of humiliating him, but in life. Guys ignored him. Teachers overlooked him. Even his own parents had stopped asking how he was doing.

Today had been the worst. Liam had cornered him near the lockers, laughed, then lifted Jamie by the armpits like a kitten and pushed him up against the wall.

“Jesus, you’re like… nothing,” he’d laughed. “Are you even a guy? Or just a bundle of anxiety with a pretty face?”

People had laughed. A few girls had looked uncomfortable. No one had helped.

Jamie had walked home, fists clenched, shame burning through him. But tonight, something had cracked. Something had shifted.

And that’s when the ad popped up:

GENETIXX // Unleash Him

One scoop. One week. One god.

Not sold in stores. One-time order only. No refunds. Results irreversible.

Most people would’ve clicked away. But Jamie? He stared at the hulking blond man in the ad, the skin-tight tank top stretched to its limit, biceps bigger than Jamie’s whole torso, pecs thick enough to cast shadows. Green eyes. Blond hair. He looked like what Jamie had always dreamed of being.

Jamie hovered, heart pounding.

He clicked and brought the product.

That night, after the worst day of his life, Jamie clicked “Order Now” on the GENETIXX ad, half-expecting it to be a scam. There was no confirmation email, no shipping estimate, nothing. Just a single line on the screen:

He went to bed feeling silly for spending money he barely had on something that looked like a scam—but somewhere deep inside, a spark had been lit.

“Your transformation is on its way.”

He went to bed feeling silly for spending money he barely had on something that looked like a scam—but somewhere deep inside, a spark had been lit.

The Next Morning

Jamie woke up early the next day, still sore from being shoved around at school. He dragged himself to the door to get the mail—and stopped.

There it was.

A sleek, matte-black box sitting perfectly on the doorstep. No delivery truck, no knock, no return address. Just his name etched across the lid in bold, metallic lettering.

JAMIE.

His heart thumped in his chest.

He brought it inside, hands shaking slightly. The box felt heavier than it looked. Cold to the touch. He opened it slowly. Inside, nestled in black velvet foam, was the tub. Jet black, heavy in his hands. No ingredient list. Just:

“Take one scoop. Once a day. For seven days. Become.”

Inside, resting in velvet lining, was the GENETIXX tub—jet black, glowing faintly under the morning light. It looked like something from another world.

And just below the tub, in silver ink:

“Day One Begins Now.”

Jamie stood there, staring at it. He hesitated. Just for a second.

He hadn’t even brushed his teeth yet, and the universe was already offering him a second chance.

He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a shaker, and opened the tub.

The powder had a faint, unnatural scent—vanilla mixed with… steel? Ozone? It was hard to describe. But the moment he scooped it into milk, it began to fizz and swirl like it had a mind of its own. It turned a pale, glowing gold.

He drank it down in three gulps.

And with that first scoop… everything began to change.

Instant heat.

It hit his stomach like liquid fire. His skin flushed. He gasped as tingles shot through his arms and legs. It wasn’t pain—it was something deeper. Activation.

His heart pounded. His breath came faster. He looked down and saw goosebumps rising all over his skin. His veins stood out a little more than usual.

“W-what the hell…” he whispered, lifting his shirt.

He blinked. Were his abs just… more defined?

The mirror called to him. He stumbled toward it, chest heaving.

His body looked the same at first—but then he noticed it. A tightness across his shoulders. A slight pump in his arms. His traps were standing up slightly, even relaxed. His face had a faint flush, like after an intense workout.

And his hunger?

It was ravenous.

Jamie found himself devouring food like he’d never eaten before. Four eggs. A pile of rice. A leftover steak from the fridge. Peanut butter straight from the jar. Even his jaw muscles felt tired from chewing so much.

His body felt like it was demanding fuel.

And when he finally collapsed into bed, the transformation still buzzing under his skin, he felt different.

Not just physically. Emotionally. For the first time in his life… he felt a flicker of power.

He fell asleep with a half-smile on his face.

And didn’t know that tomorrow, he’d wake up stronger. Taller. Hungrier.

He had no idea that the boy who was shoved into lockers would soon be walking through them.

#muscle growth stories #gay to straight #ai muscle #ai muscle growth #nerd to jock #nerd to jock tf

47 notes · View notes

fumiscripts · 6 months ago

Text

🃁 HIGHEST RANKER

fic masterlist . prev chapter . next chapter

The only complaint you have right now is not charging your phone enough.

You frowned at the low battery icon, shoving your phone in your pocket and resorting to looking out the window, instead. After walking through the door post talking to Ego, you were given a letter of consent to sign, the only other information given was that the group will be moved to a lodging, before being instructed to get into a bus.

Luckily, you managed to score a decent seat, beside a window, and your seatmate was quiet. You sought entertainment in the view of mountains outside, the vehicle breezing by leafless trees. You couldn’t find it in yourself to sleep, so you chose to indulge in mostly pointless sightseeing, instead.

The moment you stepped out of the bus, the next instructions were to line up, and hand over all belongings brought over. Including your phones. Though you were very reluctant, you chose not to make a fuss about it. You had to keep up the nonchalant image, after all. The woman— who introduced herself as Anri— distributed assigned pieces of clothing. From the clear plastic, you could see the number 241 inside a pentagon, with the letter ‘V’ under it. You suspected those might be variables for some sort of ranking.

…Was that your evaluation?

You covered up the offense you felt with a polite smile, muttering a thanks to Anri before going inside.

You refuse to believe you were placed so low.

The interior was concreted and bland, but you really didn't expect anything too fancy, considering they most likely used the budget for this project for more important things— like equipment and facilities. The building was vast, and you searched for the room with the letter assigned to you, since that was what the red-haired woman directed. Finding it, you went up to the door, which opened up automatically once you were close enough to it.

In the room, there were 11 other people— 12, including you— scattered around. A good handful was changing into the provided uniforms. You took that as a sign to change to the outfit, as well, making quick work in order to not be exposed for long, ensuring that no one was looking while you were.

Then came the waiting game. You kept to yourself, for now. There was nothing interesting enough at the moment, anyway. You observed, watching with keen eyes, trying to get information that may help you in the near future. All these guys looked a bit average. Not like you should judge a book by its cover, but you did so, anyway. They looked like Npcs. Maybe with the exception of that one guy with spiked up blond and pink hair. He looked the complete opposite of a background character.

“Are you done changing, you unpolished gems?”

A booming voice pulled you out of your little train of thought. You looked up, towards the source of the sound— a TV that hung on the gray walls, showing a live feed of none other than Ego Jinpachi, himself. He gestured a half-wave, leaning back once he got everyone's attention. “The people in your room will be both your roommates… and your rivals,” he informed, before bringing a palm out, a projection of a player model flashing onto it.

“We have estimated your potential based on my judgement and my peers’ calculations… represented by your ranking,” he remarked, following up. “It is the number attached to your uniforms. With it, you can gauge your position among the 300 players in this facility.”

So you were right about it being a ranking. It made you even more offended that he stationed you this low. Is he provoking you? You knew that he knew you were one of the best. How dare he?

You didn't show it on your face, reminding yourself to not let it get to your psyche that much. There should be something more than meets the eye— it's Ego who's taking charge of the project, after all. The rankings must hold a bigger picture than just this.

He's back to talking, again. The man explained about how the rankings change daily based on performance, and how the top five players will get to play in the upcoming U20 world cup. You were beginning to zone out, once again, though you attempted to register the important details he said. Like how those defeated in Blue Lock will be permanently banned from playing for Japan's national team.

“We are looking for one crucial component here: ego,” Ego states, staring everyone down. “That is what we will measure as you live here in this facility,” he closes his hand, stopping the projection. “Well now…” the noiret leaned closer to the camera.

“It's time to play ‘tag’.”

Suddenly, a ball dropped from an opening in the ceiling, landing in front of some random guy. “The time limit is 136 seconds. The player with possession is ‘it’.” The ball bounced, rolling to a halt. “Whoever is ‘it’ when the time runs out can get the fuck out of here,” he bluntly remarked. “And, of course, no using your hands,” was his last instruction before another screen flickered open.

“Tag is one of the many exercises pro players use to warm up,” Ego prompted. “This ‘egoism’ test I have devised will provide great insight on the selfishness behind these strikers. Prepare and attack. This isn't your average game of tag.”

On the monitor, a simplified icon of the player holding the ball showed on the screen, beside it was their name and ranking. You could sense his worry, seconds ticking down on the timer below their profile. If you were him, you would've moved to get the ball off of you by now.

It took him a few moments, before he resorted to licking the ball towards a crowded group of people. To his luck, it hit no one. You could feel the second-hand embarrassment. He needed a better tactic than shooting it around aimlessly. At this rate, you could just run around without a plan, and your chances of being hit would still be low. You almost felt bad. Almost.

Roughly thirty seconds have passed, and he finally hit someone. Well, more like the ball rebounded from the wall, and someone willingly trapped it. The icon on the panel switched, showing pinky-blond— who you recognized because you deemed him the least forgettable person in the room. Other than you, of course. The name ‘Shidou Ryusei’ was displayed, followed by the number 242. The second highest rank, huh? You took note of it.

After the lowest ranked had the ball off of him, he ran away, passing by you. There were 100 seconds left on the clock. Shidou glanced at the guy as he fled, eyes catching your frame, locking onto the digits on your shoulder. You were the highest ranker in the room— and the top player within the building.

He wanted to see if your explosion lived up to your level.

Shidou let the ball roll forward beside him, halting it with his heel. You eyed him as he pinned the ball down between the floor and his foot. He stared you down, grinning. “Yo, player 241,” Shidou called, holding eye contact, pink eyes looking straight at your own. “Ya like explosions?”

80 seconds.

You raise a brown, dumbfounded by his question. What an interesting individual. “Sure,” you answered, straightforward. He smiled wider at that. He sure was weird, but you didn't not fuck with that. This Shidou guy made this game a little more entertaining, you'd say. He better not disappoint you now, as so he's the only player you're interested in seeing play right now. All the others seem boring.

“Let me see you explode then, mx. highest ranker, ♡”

Was he challenging you?

You mirrored his smirk, tilting your head. “You sure you're a worthy fuse to light me up?” you taunted, eyes flickering between him and the ball, prepared to sprint out the way once he comes after you.

Shidou leaned over, rolling the ball, reeling his leg in before kicking it at you at full force. The sphere rushed to you, which you managed to avoid by rushing to the side. It ricocheted, and the blond wasted no time to collect it, aiming it at your abdomen. This time, you settled to trap the ball with your leg, jumping to control it.

The screen switched once again, showing your icon, this time— followed by your name and rank: [Last Name] [Name], 241.

60 seconds.

You lifted the ball to the air, performing a volley. It flew back to him, and Shidou raised an eyebrow, amused. It hit him with speed and precision, impacting his thigh. He quickly recovered, kicking it right back at you.

At this point, the two of you have resorted to just kicking it back and forth, running down the time to the point that some of the others have let down their guards. It was almost like a game of hot potato. You have your careers on the line, yet both of you seemed unserious about this. The other people in the room thought you two were insane. Who would be this relaxed when this single game determines their future?

The answer is you and Shidou.

20 seconds.

You had the ball on you once again. It stood still, and you scanned around, registering the little time left on the clock. You flicked the ball up, before shooting it harshly, noticeably higher than where Shidou stood, which he tilted his head at. Then, he felt it. A shiver running down his spine that got him acting to do something

Damn, you got him excited.

He whipped around, the sphere bouncing off the concrete walls. Shidou got into action, jumping into the air and bicycle kicking it in your direction, using his arm to balance his weight to get on his feet faster. In reply, you swing it right back at him. The ball went to and fro between the two of you like ping pong, each return seemingly getting more impressive to pull off than the last

10 seconds.

Shidou grinned widely, the ball hitting his shoulder and dropping to his foot. He kicked it with as much power as he could muster, the sphere zooming towards you.

Your eyes widened for a split-second. What a diabolical shot.

You resorted to dodging it, the ball hitting the wall and rebounding to your back, with a much softer impact than what it would've had if you decided to face it head on.

You dragged the ball back to right in front of you, sending it hurling, returning to the blond. Shidou reacted quickly, trapping and kicking it to you in one fluid move

Side-stepping, you dodged it. Damn, this was exhilarating. You can't leave him with that. He's too entertaining to be locked off. You stepped on the ball, the icon switching to you once again, steadying it on the floor.

You stepped back, making enough space between you and the object to kick it properly.

Reeling your leg, you kicked it with style. The ball flew way past him, seemingly towards the side, and everyone stared at you and your ‘mistake.’

My, their eyes were on you.

The ball suddenly curved. A beautiful arch targeting the crowd, and they grew panicked.

In a last second attempt, they ran. But a racing ball was way faster than their stunned legs.

The thud could be heard as the ball hit an unfortunate player, the screen switching from your icon to theirs as the game came to an end.

The person fell to their knees, a short whistle ringing through the room. A huge test that said ‘lose’ overlayed over their profile on the display monitor, indicating that they're off.

How fun. Your little gamble worked.

And everyone looked at you like you were some sort of football deity. Seriously. A curved shot like that? Barefooted, at that.

The tv opened, showing Ego, who congratulated the survivors, and discarded the one who lost. You straighten your posture, content with being able to gather fear and attention. Now, being able to receive passes from these guys should be easy, right? You've shown your talent, and now, their job is to not fuck up and trust your abilities to help them win.

Suddenly, someone approached you. Clearly, he didn't give a fuck about personal space, if the way he slung an arm around your shoulder said anything. It was Shidou— who looked down at you with a lazy smirk spread across his face. “You're hella interesting,” he pointed at you. Seems like you left a great impression on him, huh? “I like the way ya explode.”

You mirrored his expression, letting yourself get a little more cocky. “Yeah? Big enough to have everyone stop and look?” you ask, watching as he leaned back and laughed.

“Damn, you're really egoistic, huh?” He raised a brow, pink eyes locking into your own. “We'll get along real well.”

A guy who has a thing for explosions. Good for him, you're bright and loud enough to make sure all eyes are on you. You stare at him, grinning.

“Something tells me we will.”

(a/n) lowk don't like this one jsanhakaj anwwww ts a lil zesty but it's aight cs it's bllk

Shidou jumpscare!!

taglist:: @atlas-atlantic, @shidousprincess, @lakeside-paradise, @shrii-kk

@neversam, @motchilyn, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @sabrina-senpai

78 notes · View notes

streamdotpng · 1 year ago

Text

Art Commissions! Old commission sheet here.

Note: Prices can change and vary depending on what is being commissioned! I'm generally flexible when it comes to prices and budget.

+10-15 usd per person

+5-10 usd depending on the background

Note: There can be additional charges due to paypal fees

If more examples are needed, you can go through commission work, rendered, my art or ask for more in DM's!

Can Draw!

Fanart

oc’s/humanoids

pngtuber models

character sheets

horror, gore (not excessive)

Chibi

NSfW

Yes I can do full-body aswell

Might Draw (We’ll need to talk about these requests)

full on furries (not so experienced)

excessive gore/horror (same excuse as above)

comics

honestly, if it isn’t in the Can Draw, let’s talk about it.

Will not:

hate art

anything political

if it crosses my boundaries

Terms and Service! (this is a long one)

The client may ask for progress updates every 2-4 days, if not longer, should the commissionee not be in contact.

The art may take longer than the estimated time the artist gives. Should that be an issue or concern, the client must tell the artist.

In commissioning the artist, the client acknowledges that the artist is a student and that this is not the artist’s full time job, and the client should not expect the artist to be able to treat it as such.

IMAGE RIGHTS

The client may not, in any way shape or form, use the art in a commission product for NFTs, no matter how much they offer to pay the artist. Should NFTs be made of the art without consent, the client gives full consent for the artist to take legal action against them.

The client may make minor edits to the completed commission (e.g. cropping, adding text/borders, changing brightness/contrast/hue/saturation…

The client may use/reupload the commission for personal/non-commercial use, but only if proper credit to the artist and a linkback to any of the artist’s social media is provided.

If the commission includes characters that do not belong the client, additional credit to the owner(s)/creator(s) of said characters must be provided when using/reuploading for personal/non-commercial use.

The client may not use the commission for any commercial use unless discussed with the artist beforehand.

^ Should the client use the art for commercial use, provided the artist’s consent, the artist will receive an agreed-upon percentage of the sales profits.

The client MUST credit the artist for any usage of the art on any platform.

The client MUST ask the artist if they want to use their art as a reference, and proceed to credit each time the reference is used.

REVISION POLICIES

Once the coloring stage begins, the only major revisions permitted are details that the artist may have missed and was specified by the client in the order while the commission was still in the sketching/lineart stage (e.g. a missing tattoo that’s essential to the character’s design).

If the client is unsatisfied with the commission, the artist is willing to discuss and make minor edits as stated prior (e.g. adjusting colors). However, the artist will not redraw the piece and expects full payment, as the client should have specified in the sketch stage changes they wanted to be made.

The client may not hire another artist to adjust the image without the commissionee’s consent.

The artist is willing to edit the image post commission for the commissioner, but may charge a small fee depending on what is being asked of them.

Upon commissioning the artist, the client automatically agrees to the terms of service provided, as it is assumed they have read them.

…and that’s about it? Just don’t expect me to be obligated to draw something and we'll figure something out. Not to mention that depending on how much commissions i’m getting and how busy i am, the art will take atleast a few days to a week!

If you got references, provide them! It’ll help alot. You can also ask for progress updates, just don’t mind me accidentally not seeing the message bc this is tumblr and I don’t get notifs for some reason.

as of rn, I do comms in Vgen but I can also accept payment through ko-fi and PayPal invoices!

But ye! That’s about it, thanks for seeing this yall. If you want to see more examples, simply look at the tags below in my account!

#commissions open #commission work #rendered #commission sheet #open commissions

167 notes · View notes

david-talks-sw · 2 years ago

Text

How the narrative framed Mace Windu, back in 2002

So there's this 2002 book written by Marcus Hearn, edited by J.W. Rinzler, titled Attack of the Clones - The Illustrated Companion. It was released a month before Episode II was released.

AKA, before EU material and anti-Jedi fanon could publicly reframe the meanings of the film... and before more recent narratives could reinterpret the character of Mace as a robotic, protocol-worshipping stickler who never bends the rules (when evidence shows he's anything but).

So how does Marcus Hearn - "untainted" by all the above factors, armed only with the Prequel films and their screenplays - frame the character of Mace Windu?

MACE & ANAKIN

Fandom: "Mace hated Anakin from Day #1 and never trusted him. Mace was probably jealous as he always thought he was the Chosen One, not Anakin!"

Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:

"Jedi Masters Yoda and Mace Windu lead the High Council in rejecting Qui-Gon's application to train Anakin, 'He is too old,' concludes Mace Windu. 'There is already too much anger in him.'

Hearn explains that the problem with Anakin wasn't that he was just too old, it's that because of that age he had become too filled with fear and anger to a point where taking on the Jedi training would be twice as hard for him as it already was for everyone else.

Hearn doesn't chastise Mace for this initial decision. On the contrary, he adds more context to it by using a line from the screenplay to explain where Mace is coming from.

He also goes further into Mace's view of Anakin throughout the book:

"[Mace] over-estimates Anakin Skywalker, paying little credence to Obi-Wan's protestations that the boy is too confused and disturbed to be dispatched on a solo mission."

"The Jedi Council is aware of Anakin's exceptional skills, and Mace Windu believes Anakin may fulfill the prophecy that says a being will one day bring balance to the Force. But Anakin still has a lot to learn…"

He's basically stating that Mace believes in Anakin, but that doing so is a mistake. Which, to be fair, considering how things turn out for Mace and the Jedi... is kinda true!

Mace's problem with Anakin is almost the opposite of what most of the fandom projects onto him.

It's not that he dislikes Anakin, on the contrary, he holds Anakin in too high of an esteem and is overlooking Anakin's glaring flaws because "hey, Anakin's the Chosen One. He's got this!"

That's not the only flaw Mace has, according to Hearn.

MACE'S (and the Jedi's) ONLY REAL FLAW

Fandom: "Mace and the Jedi had become too emotionally detached, they had lost touch with the common folk by spending too much time in their ivory tower. They focused so much on being selfless that they forgot how to care, they've become a bunch of elitist, righteous sticklers for protocol who care more about upholding laws than actually helping the people those laws are meant to protect!"

Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:

"Although he is a senior member of the Jedi Council, little in Mace Windu's experience has prepared him for the looming threats of the dark side of the Force and Count Dooku's Separatists."

"Mace Windu's faith in the Jedi to protect the Republic is admirable, but it also blinds him to the true scale of the growing menace. He is aware that the dark side is growing, but still allows himself to be too easily reassured about the Separatists' ambitions. [...] Mace fatally misjudges Count Dooku, refusing to believe he could be behind any attempt on Senator Amidala's life. 'Dooku was once a ledi, he tells Padmé. 'He couldn't assassinate anyone. It's not in his character.'"

"Mace Windu's strengths are, in many ways, qualities shared by the Jedi Order as a whole - he is an accomplished diplomat and a fine swordsman. Such skills have served the Jedi well in their role as the galaxy's peacekeepers for a thousand generations. But such skills are not enough to save the Jedi from their own complacency, and the tumultuous changes that threaten to wipe them out forever."

Hearn perfectly grasps what the Jedi's only real flaw is, in George Lucas' intended narrative: they were unprepared, complacent, they were blind... and now they're stuck playing catch-up.

But when he's saying that, he's not blaming them for it. Because this flaw doesn't derive from some sense of elitism or superiority... it is an inevitable consequence of their qualities.

They've managed to stay out of politics as neutral diplomats... ... but that makes them vulnerable to the Sith's plot, which primarily takes place within the political arena, where they have no control or experience.

They are painfully aware of the corruption in the Senate... ... but as a result, they're too quick to trust the Separatist's talking points as well-meaning and genuine, instead of seeing the movement for what it really is: greedy big business trying to become the government.

They trust and agree with Dooku, believe in what he publicly stands for (after all this man used to be one of the wisest and kindest members of the Jedi Order, Mace's friend, Yoda's Padawan, etc)... ... but as such, they are blind to his true nature, that of a treacherous Sith who'd stoop to orchestrating assassinations.

The Jedi have their guard up, knowing that there's another Sith Lord still out there, orchestrating in the shadows... ... but they can't really find him, because the Dark Side has clouded everything, so only darksiders are able to sense the possibilities of the future! Them serving the good side is screwing them over, in this situation.

Flaws such as being too trusting or being unprepared, letting your guard down because you've established a 1000-year-peace, are flaws that kind, noble characters such as the Jedi are bound to have.

They may be flaws, but they aren't faults. And considering the way he describes Mace and the Jedi, it's clear Hearn grasps the nuance.

MACE'S RELUCTANCE TO JOIN THE WAR

Fandom: The Jedi joined the war out of arrogance, they thought they could swashbuckle their way through the problem and win, instead they didn't realize that they lost the very moment they joined.

Attack of the Clones' - The Illustrated Companion:

"Mace Windu believes in the Jedi as keepers of the peace - not as soldiers - but there comes a point when he reluctantly realizes that it is time to take affairs out of the realm of diplomacy."

Mace and the Jedi didn't want to start a war. If you read the script for Attack of the Clones, Mace and Bail keep grasping at straws to not engage with the Separatists up til the very end.

But when you consider that...

the Geonosians are about to execute Obi-Wan without a trial,

and the Separatists leaders have been unmasked as a coalition of unscrupulous corporate assholes who are willing to plunge the galaxy in chaos just to make more money.

... at some point, the Jedi have to come to terms with the fact that Separatist leadership (and Sidious) won't accept diplomacy because they want a conflict. A conflict will make them all richer. And the Republic, well, they're just dying to go to war too.

So the Jedi go save Obi-Wan and capture Dooku, hoping that in doing so, the conflict ends before it begins. They succeed in the former goal... but fail the latter one.

The Clone War has begun.

From there on, the Jedi are drafted to lead the war. Which is why - as Hearn points out - Mace was so reluctant to take action in the first place. The Jedi are ambassadors, they are not built for war... and now they've been forced into one.

Mace is by no means a perfect character... but he's someone doing his best. Just like Obi-Wan, just like Yoda, and all the other Jedi.

Overtime, Windu's character has been dumbed down to either "that one angry black man" or "the dogmatic emotionless dick who hated Anakin"... and I really think that that's not what we were meant to see him as.

The way Marcus Hearn (who also wrote The Cinema of George Lucas) refers to him is a much more charitable interpretation of how others (ahem Filoni ahem) do, nowadays.

#Mace Windu #mace windu appreciation #long post #jedi order #anakin skywalker #meta #in defense of the jedi #star wars #master windu #samuel l jackson #attack of the clones #aotc #star wars prequels #flashing gif #very long post

625 notes · View notes