#but this is proof of concept enough for me i can do it

[fipindustries]

finally got the hang of this stop motion shit

[sibyl-of-space]

tomorrow people at work are gonna be like "what did you do this weekend" and im gonna be like well. basically worked 2 full workdays crunching out the new demo for my visual novel. BUT IT'S DONE!!!!!

I gotta do another week of crunch to finish all of the visual assets and UI stuff and polish stuff for it but mechanically and narratively that bitch is DONE let's fucking GO

[luxraydyne]

wait, dude, wait. aini was supposed to be cosmic horror??

girl, seriously? i dunnooooo i’m not really feeling it fellas

[tenok]

.

[nocturnowlette]

If you wanna feel like a puppy for a bit, read this. Trust me.

Hello. There's a fun little visualization and focus exercise you can do to feel a bit more fluffy/fuzzy for a bit, if you'd like to follow along, but read slowly and in a private environment (preferably lying down). Focus on my words and read them carefully, as if you're listening to someone speak them.

In fact, I'd like to teach you something neat about focus.

Us creatures have quite a powerful sense of focus, however, most of the time, it's distributed to everything around us at once. We need to focus on our surroundings, our task in front of us, the music we're listening to, the senses we're feeling, and on and on. However, there are times where our focus gets directed entirely on just one thing.

Most of the time, the word we have for this is "immersion". Those times where everything around you seems to disappear and you find yourself lost in some world. In those moments, nearly your entire mind is focused on just one thing. As a result, you feel the things you're immersed into quite strongly.

Focus on your right hand. See how easy that is? Suddenly, you can isolate that specific part of your body very, very easily.

Focus on your left foot.

Your neck.

Your hair.

Your left forearm.

Both of your calves.

All of your fingers and toes.

Now just your pinky fingers.

Not only is our focus quite powerful, but it can be directed, not just you, but by others. This is a concept used in many things, but among them is meditation, guided meditation, hypnosis, and self-hypnosis.

What you may find interesting about hypnosis, specifically, is that one of the best ways to direct that focus is through visualization.

Focus on your head.

Now your forehead.

Now your brain.

Your brain is where the magic happens. If you read my words, and if you focus on your mind, you might find that it's hard to think your own thoughts while you're reading something. I've been guiding your focus for so long already that it is very, very easy to focus on my words.

With this newfound focus, it's quite easy to let my words relax you. Let's, for example, imagine that your body is turning into liquid.

Focus on your feet and calves.

You notice that they feel quite tired. They're so used to being flexed, being tense, but you have no need for that right now. Focus on the muscles in your calves. Feel them melt, a bit. So long as you're following what I say, you're doing it correctly. The tension you are so used to easily relaxes, and relaxes, and relaxes. It melts more and more.

Focus on your thighs.

The liquid seems to be spreading upwards. Your thighs relax effortlessly. They melt, and melt, and melt. So effortless.

With every bit of tension that disappears, feel your focus on my words only get more intense.

Focus on your hips, and stomach. They relax even easier than your legs. They melt so easily.

The feeling spreads up through your chest to your shoulders. They melt so easily. Like gravity is simply pulling all of the tension right out.

Every part of your mind and body is directed to me.

The feeling spreads to your arms, normally so active. Its so tiring to move them around all day. Feel them melt for me. Everything below the neck is turning into a melted, gooey mass.

Focus on your hands. You will need these to scroll. They move automatically whenever you need to scroll further, and every time you do so is just more proof that you want to focus on my words.

You only get more and more fixated on my every word.

All of this focus can be a lot for your brain to handle. Your brain feels dense, heavy from all of your focus being pushed up, up to the top of your body. Don't you feel so heavy? You'll find that you can hardly keep your head up the more you read, holding it just high enough to keep reading. It's all you want to do right now. Your focus is mine.

With all this pressure on your brain, it may start to feel very, very tired. Being so, so focused on me is a lot on your mind. You might feel that liquid creep up, up into your head. It rises up through the neck, up through the bottom of your skull, filling higher and higher and higher, up up and up until it has finally filled your skull completely, It's surrounding your mind.

Focus even more on my words.

This liquid seems to melt everything it touches. Normally, your mind would be strong enough to protect itself, but it seems too preoccupied on me. The liquid starts to find it's way in.

You feel your mind begin to melt.

The walls of your brain soften, the wrinkles so easily disappearing. The liquid seeps in through every tiny crack, and your brain gets heavier and heavier. So heavy. Your thoughts can't seem to stay together. Some try to pop up, but they're already surrounded. They melt so easily. All of your thoughts melt so easily.

Feel your mind melt more and more.

Focus on how hard it is to think.

Focus on how heavy you feel.

Focus on my every word completely and absolutely.

The next time I say the word "Melt", your mind will be completely gone. Your heaviness will double, and your focus will grow even stronger. Your entire being will devote itself to my words.

Mind collapsing,

filling with liquid,

thoughts disappearing,

nothing left,

Melt.

...

This is a mental state called trance. It feels nice, doesn't it? So hard to think. You don't want to think. So dumb. You love that.

You began reading this to be a puppy, a dumb little puppy. That's adorable.

Bark for me, in your head or out loud.

Good puppy.

You were so eager to feel this way, so fuzzyminded. Your brain is just a big pile of fuzz, just like the rest of you. Too fuzzy to think anything but puppy thoughts.

Bark again.

Good puppy.

Every time you bark, your mind just gets fuzzier and happier.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Every time you're told "Good puppy." you feel so happy, so so happy that you're following orders. Every time you hear it, you feel your ears perk up and feel so, so happy and so, so dumb.

It can be from me, from your owner, or from anyone you trust.

Bark.

Good puppy.

And just like that, you're trained.

Bark.

Good puppy.

You just wanna bark your mind away.

Bark.

Bark.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Good puppies follow orders from their owners. it's what puppies do. You want to be a Good Puppy, right? Of course you do.

Bark your mind away.

Good puppy.

...

I will bring you back up from trance in a moment, but you are allowed to stop reading here for as long as you wish. You can leave here and will eventually rise out of trance, but slowly. You'll feel happy and very very dumb. If you have an owner, you'll message them and act like the cute puppy you are. Or, you can just lie down and live in this feeling. Once you're ready to come back up, read ahead.

...

Focus is quite easy to return to normal. In fact, it's natural. I will count up from the numbers 1 to 10, and return every bit of your mind and body back to you. Once I say "Wake Up", you will feel completely returned to normal. Let's begin.

1.

Feel your brain begin to reform, thoughts becoming possible again.

2.

Feel your mind solidify, able to think now, but finding it very hard.

3.

Feel your body start to solidify again, feeling your muscles return to normal.

4.

The liquid drains out of your mind, giving your thoughts some room to breathe and connect, and making your brain feel lighter.

5.

You find it easy to move your legs again. Move them.

6.

You find it even easier to move your stomach, chest, and shoulders.

7.

You're becoming more and more aware of your surroundings.

8.

Your arms become easy and light to move.

9.

Mind speeding up, up, and up. Feeling happy and refreshed. Your head becoming so, so light.

10.

Wake up.

...

Welcome back. I hope that was both fun and informative. This was a bit of an experiment, so I am genuinely curious if it was effective. If it's not too much to ask, perhaps reblog this with a comment on how it felt. Or just bark, puppy. I'd be happy either way.

I do hypnosis stuff, puppy stuff, and anything else I wish. Follow if you're interested.

Regardless, have a nice day.

Update: I have two new scripts currently.

If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.

If you wanna fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now (especially to me), read this post.

Enjoy~

[noyasmashing]

I believe sperm retention is good for men's health so that's the plot line. We are always so kind and gentle with Tamaki(Amajiki) but today we want to test how good of a boy he truly is. We tell him that today he isn't allowed to cum at all and if he succeeds we will be so proud of him, but if he fails he will get his first punishment. Hope he's a good boy :(

Can we get hcs pretty please? *Bats my pretty lashes*

★ NOT AT ALL. tamaki!

• warning: Tamaki Amajiki + gn!dom reader, edging, praise, lots of dirty talk, mentions of punishments and spanking.

• author note: no proof read for this one 😔 sorry for being so inactive, once I’m not traveling so much I promise I’ll be able to post more often.

Tamaki's stomach would doing flips at the thought of surrendering his pleasure, a concept he'd never experienced before. He does the most to obey your demands, even if it meant embarrassing himself. But this was the first time he'd been asked to give up his own pleasure, and it left him distraught. His face would be contorted in a mixture of pouts and whimpers, his eyes welling up with tears as he clutched at your hips in desperation.

Initially, Tamaki would likely protest vehemently, as the idea of sperm retention obviously a punishment. However, if you insisted, he would have no choice to obey you. Despite the struggle it would be for him, the thought of you having full control over whether he can climax or not is a major turn on for him. The possibility of receiving praise if he does manage to succeed adds to the excitement. Let alone the idea of you being proud of him is enough to prevent him from ejaculating, no matter how much he desires to do so.

Alternatively, he might not be able to contain his orgasm and ends up coming all over his sad little tummy :( Even though he might find pleasure in the punishment you administer, he would feel extremely guilty. He would immediately break down in tears, whimpering and apologizing for his actions, promising to be a good boy. However, deep down, he enjoys the idea of defiance and rough treatment, as long as he ends up being your good boy by the end of the night. Though the punishment wouldn't be overly harsh, he would take it with equanimity, counting each spank and murmuring "sorry" and "thank you" in between.

"Have you gotten way too spoiled?" you asked, your voice warm and gentle as your finger continued to caress the fabric of his clothes, tracing the outline of his cock.

The shy boy shook his head, still avoiding eye contact. "Have you gotten… pretty spoiled?" you asked, your tone softening as you drew a little closer to him.

His ears flushed a deeper crimson as he nodded almost imperceptibly, the slightest movement betraying his admission. "Yeah?" you cooed, coaxing him to speak up, though he couldn’t find the courage to.

You exhaled a soft sigh, tracing the contours of his tip with your finger, moving at a torturously slow pace. "Do I need to be rougher with you?" you breathed, your question laced with a hint of curiosity.

His lip curled downward at the suggestion, and he subtly pushed into your hand, as if seeking more. "Meaner," he corrected, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want me to be meaner?"

This time, he nodded, his gaze locked on yours, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of desire and vulnerability as they seemed to glaze over and dilate. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Yeah?"

As shame began to dissipate, he nodded more resolutely, a soft "please" escaping his lips, his tone laced with a hint of desperation.

You leaned in, your voice low and husky, "Please, what?" as you settled onto his thighs, pinning him in place to prevent him from squirming away. He paused, his eyes cast downward, his face growing hotter by the second as he struggled to find the courage to speak his desires. The words finally emerged, hesitantly forced out: "Please...can...can we do more?" His hand slowly going to cover his face, as if trying to conceal the vulnerability that had taken over.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently pulled his hand away, forcing his teary gaze to meet yours. "No coming tonight, Tamaki," you stated firmly, your nails digging lightly into his wrist.

His face contorted in confusion, a pitiful puff of air escaping his lips as he whispered, "W-what?" His eyes searched yours, seeking clarity.

You leaned in closer, your voice taking on a calm, deliberate tone. "Let's see if you're really a good boy," you said, your hand drifting over his chest as you watched his expressive face cycle through a gamut of emotions. "You're not getting to cum tonight, understand?"

Tamaki's whiny voice cracked as he asked, "L-like... not at all?" His words were laced with a mixture of disappointment and longing.

“Like not at all.” repeated, your voice dripping with a warm, sadistic sweetness. "But don't worry, if you behave, I'll give you a very nice reward," you purred, leaning down to gently lick his pink nipple.

Tamaki let out a strained moan, struggling to find his voice. "And what if I...do?" he asked, his breathy words tumbling out as he gazed up at you with a pout.

You paused, weighing your options with deliberate slowness. "Then," you said, your tone turning stern, "I'll have to punish you."

Tamaki's whine was almost inaudible as he protested, "Why are you being so mean to me?" He sank deeper into the pillows, his face hidden from view as he sought to escape his embarrassment.

“I thought you asked me to be meaner to you, was I wrong?” you teased, slowly pulling down his clinging boxers to finally release his rigid cock. Tamaki's gaze dropped to his stomach, and he looked at himself with a mixture of self-pity and resignation as he anticipated the marathon of edging you had in store for him tonight.

A small, involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he lifted his gaze to yours, his clumpy lashes fluttering as he gazed up at you with pleading eyes. You grasped the base of his cock, and began to pump your fist in a slow, deliberate motion. Tamaki's hips twitched in response, and he watched with a pout as you let a droplet of saliva slide down the length of his shaft, making him squirm.

"Stay still for me, baby," you coaxed, your wrist moving in a slow, sensual arc as you reached the tenderest part of his cock. His hand clamped down on your wrist, his head thrown back in a moan of pleasure as you stroked his most sensitive spot.

"I-I...," he gasped, his words trailing off between ragged breaths, "I can't...I'm close."

Your pace slowed imperceptibly, and a soft coo of sympathy escaped your lips. "Ah, already? I see my words got you excited," you said, batting your lashes with a wicked smile. "Do you want to be punished?"

Tamaki's whine was like a protest, his hand reaching behind him to grasp the sheets as if seeking support. "N-no," he argued, his hips subtly buckling into your hand as if trying to pull away from the impending orgasm.

You let out a soft sigh, your hand trailing off to caress his sacs. Tamaki's tension eased, and he reached out with a hand, his fingers closing around yours in a gentle grasp. "Hold?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across your face as you gazed at his blushing cheeks. "Oh, you want to hold my hand? How sweet," you teased, your tone dripping with amusement.

Tamaki's arm shot up to cover his face once more, but it didn't stay there for long. His hand quickly reasserted itself, gripping the sheets as if seeking grounding as you began to stroke him again. Beads of pre-cum formed on his length, trickling down his shaft like tiny rivers as you focused your movements on the pink, puffy tip.

As you continued to tease him, you posed the question aloud, more for the pleasure of watching him squirm than any genuine interest in his opinion. "What do you think would be a fitting punishment?" you mused, your grip on his base tightening as you felt his cock throb with desire at the very thought of it. "Should I deny you touch for a week?" You suggested, your voice low and husky, the words sending shivers down Tamaki's spine.

"No," Tamaki protested, his head shaking rapidly from side to side.

You pouted, your smile twisting into a wicked grin. "Oh, come now, don't be shy. A little spank might do you some good," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You might just turn bright red."

Tamaki's embarrassment began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of urgency as he felt his orgasm building. He was desperate to come, and the thought of being spanked only added to his arousal. His resolve crumbled, and he let out a strained "I'm getting close" as his hips bucked upward in search of relief.

As you withdrew your hand from his cock, Tamaki let out a soft moan, his body surrendering to the pleasure that had been building inside him. His face flushed with shame and excitement, he lay there, helpless and exposed, as the orgasm disappeared.

If you repeat this with him enough, you might just break him. The poor boys brain would dissolve into mush faster than you make think. His skin would be flushed, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, and tears streaming down his face. His thighs trembling with each touch, as if the physical sensation was too much to bear. The pain would be almost unbearable, yet his body would crave release more than anything.

If you spoke words of encouragement, all he would manage would be a numb nod, his mind consumed by the desperate desire to come. From that point on, there were only two paths open to him: succumb to the inevitable and let go, risking failure and the agony of delay; or grit his teeth and push through the pain, earning your praise and attention.

I believe he would be more likely to listen to you, no matter how bad it hurt. Solely because he enjoys being pampered more than anything. Any sort of torture is worth a cold shower with you. He would already be fantasizing about you scrubbing his back and telling him how proud you were of him, how he was yours, and only yours.

Oh, but I do think that if sperm retention became a habit, he might “accidentally” cum, just to see where it gets him.

[irynochka]

can physicist / engineer pls explain to me why we can’t send emails through electrolytes in our body yet

[shradsmanifestt]

The WHEN and HOW aren't important...

When I was manifesting one of my favourite and most important manifestation of my life, it took me some time, I admit. I was manifesting everything else except for this (I was stupid, I already had it duhh).

To revisit my old story at first I was really going back and forth and giving importance to the 3d. I always got major movement but I tried to force the 3d at times cause I wanted my manifestation. It soon changed when I learned more about manifestation.

I just gave in and repeated my affirmations till my 3d conformed. But I will admit to this because I am damn sure it will help a lot of you. I liked using tally counter and I can proudly say that I even reached the limit of it and more. Meaning just with the tally counter I had affirmed more than 100k times. And I know for a fact that this might not even be half of what I did affirm. Now I'm not giving a number to you guys for you to affirm for these many times. Nope but there are two lessons for you guys over here.

First : The number of affirmations doesn't matter. It could be 10, 100 it could be 1099 it could be more than that, it just doesn't matter.

Second : At any point of time where I was affirming for these many times and I was like why isn't it here yet and what am I doing wrong - I wouldn't have had my manifestation rn.

I hope you guys understand what I'm saying. The only reason why I got what I wanted is something I've often told you guys about as well - Do you want it bad enough? Then you'd persist no matter what. That's exactly what I did. I wanted it bad enough. I quit going back and forth on my assumptions and just persisted. I mean come on I affirmed for more than 100k. You really can't tell me that you've been affirming for a whole week and then ask why isn't it here yet.

Repetition and persistence is truly all that you need. It never fails trust me.

I consider myself really good at manifestation and well that is true in my reality. But I have no problem in admitting that I too struggled at times. But I never gave up. The HOW, the WHEN doesn't matter. It will conform.

This was the only manifestation where I really struggled with because my emotions were all over the place and I reacted to my 3d more often than not. I always got half of manifestation (only because my self concept was on point since even before I knew about manifestation, I'm a very self obsessed person 😁). I read and followed a lot to get to the point where I am rn. All I did here was affirm and persist. I love scripting and visualisations as well, but since my emotions were all over the place, I found solace in robotic affirmations. This is one of the main reasons why I promote affirming so much. It's one of the best ways to manifest especially since all you have to do is just repeat it till it manifests. It doesn't even matter if you don't believe in what you're saying. All you have to do is be fulfilled in imagination. That's it. Know that imagination is the only reality.

Persist girl, you've got this. I'm attaching an old pic of my tally counter as proof that I reached the end of it 😁

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request platonic Mewtwo hc’s? Maybe Mewtwo could also communicate with its trainer through telepathy, similar to the anime.

Ohhh, Mewtwo could be fun! Sorry for the long wait :)

Overprotective! Mewtwo Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Mind reading, Violence, Murder, Blood, Slight gore, Forced companionship.

Before meeting you, Mewtwo spent most of its life in isolation.

It was created from Mew's DNA to be a weapon... a powerful Pokemon devoid of compassion.

When it escaped the labs, creating destruction where ever it went, it fled into one of the deepest caves in the Kanto region.

Mewtwo didn't expect to be found... It didn't want to be found.

Humans only caused trouble....

But then, years later, he met you.

You were Kanto's newest "Champion" who had heard rumors of a rare Pokemon deep in Cerulean Cave.

Once you managed to surf your way through to the cave and crawl deep within... you were greeted with Mewtwo.

Mewtwo wasn't fond of you, the idea of humans still finding it down here irked it.

"You are a foolish human to come down and find me."

The voice of the Pokemon rings in your head, its tail flicking.

"Begone with you!"

So battle ensues.

Your team was trained to deal with strong threats like this so you mostly handled things quite well.

By the end of it, a ball was tossed and Mewtwo was sealed.

Your "bond" with the legendary starts rocky.

Mewtwo was used to violence and being used.

It often ignored you and the little communication it did in your head with telepathy was usually cruel.

You often tried to get along, feeding the Pokemon and trying to touch it.

Mewtwo usually batted your hand away with a snarl.

"Stop trying to be nice! I am at your command, aren't you going to use me for your pitiful ideals?"

However, no matter how cruel Mewtwo was with you... You were never cruel back.

Mewtwo often observed how you treated your own team.

Despite how strong they were trained, it was done with care.

Mewtwo never understood compassion...

Not until it grew closer with you.

You surprisingly rarely used Mewtwo in battle.

You stuck with your team but kept Mewtwo around.

It had no idea for what... for chatter?

Why do you enjoy talking to it?

Mewtwo wonders if you know about its true nature.

Did you know that it's killed before?

Are you naive?

Mewtwo had no idea why it even decided to play along with this.

Did it really enjoy your company?

You treated it more like a fellow human than Pokemon.

You often wanted it to speak with you through telepathy... and it felt comfortable with this.

Mewtwo eventually began to see you as a companion.

You were technically its master, but it didn't see you like that.

Soon enough the powerful legendary even allowed you to pet it.

It felt nice... it has trouble admitting that.

Mewtwo has a vague sense of what compassion is, but it's still a weapon.

Compassion is only given to you and maybe some of your Pokemon.

You have tamed Mewtwo for the most part.

However... all that comes crumbling down the moment you're attacked by Team Rocket.

Mewtwo already had issues with other trainers.

The Pokemon would glare at those you communicated with, still not used to human contact.

Although, Team Rocket was a group Mewtwo couldn't cooperate with at all.

Mewtwo remembers what they did to it.

Which is why when it senses you in danger and comes out of its ball... the Pokemon freezes.

Team Rocket heard that the Champion had managed to tame Mewtwo and wanted to utilize that.

The thought makes Mewtwo shake.

Not from fear...

Rage.

It's at this point you lose control of the legendary

"How dare you touch them... I am not for you to use! I belong here... and I plan to stay beside them."

You can imagine that the end result isn't pretty....

Mewtwo has killed before, if you didn't know that before... this was proof.

Mewtwo doesn't feel any remorse when it attacks.

By the end of it there's corpses on the ground and Mewtwo's covered in splatters of gore.

"They'll blame you... You know that, right?"

Mewtwo's voice echoes in your mind, turning to you with a piercing purple gaze.

"Let us flee. I can find somewhere they'll never find you or me."

When you don't move, the Pokemon frowns.

"You see me as a monster, don't you, Champion?"

When you stare, Mewtwo steps closer before using telekinesis to drag you close.

The Pokemon mimics an embrace, even if you fear it.

"Let's be honest, human... I was always a monster... something that shouldn't exist..."

Mewtwo pulls you along, away from the murder scene.

"You may have changed me slightly..."

Its grip tightens as it carries you.

"But I will always be that very same monster."

[mochifiction]

I Saw Transformers One Early Last Week. Let’s Talk About It!!! (SPOILER FREE)

EXPECTATIONS

I’m going to be honest, I had very very low expectations for this movie for a multitude of reasons. The first was the cast, particularly choosing celebrity hires instead of professional voice actors for a franchise where dialogue delivery means SO MUCH historically and the present. I like Chris Hemsworth, I do, but I am so attached to Orion Pax that I did NOT see him as someone fit for the role. I was also afraid of it becoming a WFC situation where the VA tries TOO HARD to be Peter Cullen. I am also a huge fan of Elita One, and Scarlett Johansson was not my first choice by any means. The one thing giving me hope was the fact that Scarlett and Chris interact SO WELL in their films together and in press releases and they do give off that Orion and Elita energy sometimes. Regardless, I was skeptical.

Now for the big thing: I was very nervous how they were going to handle the politics and the buildup that leads to Megatronus and Orion’s separation. It is no secret that Pre-War Cybertron in many continuities begins with a very corrupt and fascist Senate. Corrupted Senators, capitalistic manipulation and unethical abuse, dehumanization, corporal punishment, you name it, Cybertron had it. The concepts of functionalism, shadowplay, mnemosurgery, and empurata also come to mind. It is also no secret that the United States is on the brink of total fascism. A lot of Pre-War Cybertron’s themes, particularly the Decepticon cause in its early days as a movement, emphasized the elimination of the oppressive regime and reconstruction with an end to the very infrastructure that caused class division and brutalization of Cybertronian bodies. Not only this, but Megatronus and Orion’s schism often comes because of class, particularly privilege and lack thereof, which is something that often happens in revolution. Those with more privilege often think that reform can happen underneath the system that looms over them, just with a switching of a guard and elimination of a few policies. They are often ones who partook in and benefitted from the system by birth or for the sake of survival. Those who come from the lower classes want to burn the entire system down, understanding in its entirety that its very infrastructure is unstable and is not sustainable, no matter who is in power. Examples of this divide despite deep friendship and similar ideas is Andres Bonifacio and Jose Rizal of the Philippines (as a Filipino). Orion, in most cases coming from a privileged background, saw hope in simple reform after extracting the corrupt portions of the federal structure. Megatronus, who fought his whole life to be deemed as sentient, understood that the entire system was diseased and could not go on. It would just eventually continue its horrid practices. I can go on a tangent about this, as someone who studies and writes on anti-colonialism, but that’s another post for another day. My concern based on the trailers was that it would address NONE of that and there would be some watered down conflict that removed the nuances and political passion behind a lot of other continuities. The trailers, to me, were not giving me enough proof that it would be handled correctly.

Initial Experience

My theater was filled with mostly adults of various ages who were fans of different continuities. Some people were even talking about how they thought the movie was going to suck, including me with my dad, who has been a fan since G1 in the 80s and was going in blind. However, throughout the entire film, the whole theater was laughing, gasping, cheering, clapping, and screaming. Afterwards, there were people who were literally talking about how it was the movie they’d been waiting for after years of disappointment. Someone literally shouted when leaving the theater that he was so excited for September when everyone else could see it. My dad, who has not been a fan of recent Transformers material, talked nonstop about how much he loved it. Me personally, I was BRIMMING with excitement afterwards, which is huge given that I was ready to criticize the movie’s every move. Let me get into why- note this is SPOILER FREE.

Orion Pax

Believe it or not, I really liked TF1’s Orion. He was witty, had the snark of Aligned Orion, and clearly had a goal in mind: to entirely shift the status quo by breaking the class distinction. He was extremely optimistic like most versions, something that is often criticized in the fanbase, and is also criticized in the film. However, the qualities that G1 created and the Bayverse destroyed were THERE. Orion was a DORK. He was KIND. He CARED for people deeply, even if they weren’t necessarily thinking about him. He was a KNOWN PROBLEM-SOLVER. His intelligence is noted MULTIPLE times. He really is authentically Orion. I’ll do a more in-depth analysis in September.

Megatronus/ D-16

Now, THIS MAN WAS AMAZING. I am so used to the source of his anger being solely lower class-based oppression amongst other things relating to that. The film offered another option, which I will not disclose, but I thought it was a wonderful addition. I will keep my mouth shut about D-16’s personality in this film because it’s a secret, but just know this new take on Megatronus was a bit refreshing and gives new material for both fan continuity writers and fanfic writers.

Elita

I was honestly scared to see how they would portray Elita, especially with their track record of solely making her Optimus’s love interest and killing her off. I also was afraid that they would turn her into a white feminism caricature, which I can go into depth about for clarification if anyone needs it. However, the writers take feminism for Elita and take a much more in-depth route. I found her well done. She was giving mother in this film, absolutely brilliant. There will be an analysis on her as well in September, especially since they have so much intended room for her.

Worldbuilding and Additional Characters

I think that with about an hour and a half, it would have been SO HARD to create an entire world of deep political brutality and nuance like the comics directly. So, I think the writers created a framework that was good enough to convey the fascist undertones of Cybertron while also leaving so many avenues to explore and elaborate on for future films, whether they be prequels or sequels. Some characters were added in with a bit of context, but no in-depth explanations. While I would normally say that’s a downside, I think that it was actually really smart on their part. If you tried to add all of these complex stories from the comics in an hour and a half film combined with everything else, it would have likely been underdeveloped and left more questions and holes than answers. By removing that, I think that it was a smart move to expand on in their own time and with good pacing. Besides, the presence of some characters was very enjoyable and kept the audience I was with wanting more from them. Not in a “there wasn’t enough of them” way at all, but instead a “they were so cool in the short time they were here I need more now” way. Everyone in this continuity gets a new and different start. I honestly think it would give fan continuity writers motivation to continue what they’re doing, now that basic and consistent pre-war plot lines have been redone. I think for how long the movie is, they did a great job.

Additional Thoughts

I think that everything was pretty well done. The pacing was especially important, given we were supposed to witness a buildup in such a devastating “divorce”. That isn’t done lightly, and they made sure that they built it up enough to where the final blow was devastating. It was SO DEVASTATING that people in my theater were gasping left and right. The comedy was well done, as someone who hates poorly-written jokes for laughs. It fit into the characters’ personalities well, that’s what made it work well. It didn’t feel forced because that’s just how that particular character is. I also think that, as a fandom, sometimes we get too wrapped up in very specific characterizations of these individuals to the point where we refuse new ideas. I was extremely guilty of this. However, this film was truly made by someone that loved the franchise and knew exactly what the fans wanted. Brian Tyler, who did the score for TFP, also doing the score for this film was proof of that (as someone who absolutely ADORES film scores as a musician) There was a good amount of brutality within the rating of the film, so bayverse fans who are itching for something shockingly horrible are in for a surprise. I also think that it knew its boundaries well and moved not to push them while also being considerate of certain audiences who may be a bit younger. It was a good restart, especially for animated Transformers films, and I think that they can really build it into something great. This was a very sound foundation and I was not disappointed.

ALSO, THERE IS A MID AND POST-CREDIT SCENE SO DON’T LEAVE IMMEDIATELY

[hoejosatoru]

Well Trained

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Feitan, Fem!Reader x Chrollo (separately)

Summary: Chrollo is a particular man, with particular taste. Though he loves everything about you, he has yet to see how you preform in bed. He fears that if you disappoint him, it will ruin everything that you’ve built together. Luckily, he knows someone who can teach you to behave exactly how he likes.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Dub con that borders on noncon at times. If you’re sensitive to that at all I would skip this one, toxic relationship dynamic, manipulation, face slapping, choking, scratching, rough sex, degradation, praise, Feitan is mean but we know that, Dom Chrollo, calls you good girl a lot, body marking, oral (fem receiving), raw sex, cream pie, not proof read. MDNI

a/n: So I’ve had this idea in my head FOREVER because I want both Chrollo and feitan badly. Writing this concept out was lowkey kicking my ass though. I think I ended up pulling it together, but I hope y’all enjoy.

Dating Chrollo was a dream come true. He was everything you ever wanted in a man: intelligent, attentive, and sweet. Not to mention so handsome. He treated you like a princess and you loved it. Everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything.

You’d been dating for a couple months and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first you thought he wasn’t that into you, but when he kept coming back for more dates you knew that couldn’t be the case. You wondered if he was a wait till marriage type, or was shy in some way. You respected the boundary, despite wanting to sleep with him so bad. If he needed more time, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but it was starting to worry you. 

Little did you know, Chrollo wanted to sleep with you just as badly. Maybe even more so. He was very picky with who he slept with, hence this long period of courting. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he had genuine feelings for you. He has had some relationships in the past, but he always knew they would not be very longterm. You, however, he felt was someone he could see himself with forever. 

This revelation made him want to make sure everything was perfect. He liked women with experience, who knew what they were doing and how to please him. However, he hated having to put the work in to get his partners there himself. Luckily, he knew someone who was a very effective teacher.

“My love,” Chrollo spoke over his wine, “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He smiled at your eagerness. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks colored at the blatant question. Chrollo loved how demure you were. “Y-yes, I do. A lot, actually.”

“Good,” Chrollo replied, taking a sip of his deep burgundy drink, “I have wanted to for some time now, but there is something I need you to do first.”

Your brows knitted. “What is that?”

“I’m a very... particular person. As I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Chrollo explained, “And I want to make sure everything is just right.”

Your heart dropped a little bit. “Am... Am I not good enough for you?”

Chrollo shook his head and placed a hand over yours, comforting your nerves. “Not at all, my love. Quite the opposite actually. I love you so much that I don’t want anything to get in the way of our relationship.”

You nodded, feeling slightly relieved. “What is it? What do you want me to do?”

Chrollo thought about what the best way to explain it was. “I have a friend. He can teach you what I like, much better than I can.” He say the confused look on your face and continued. “You trust me, don’t you y/n?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied instantly. And it was true.

“I know it is an request,” Chrollo went on, “But it is important to me. Everything about you is so perfect. This will simply make sure it stays that way.” He kissed your hand, making your stomach fill with butterflies. “I want you in my life forever. Will you do this for me, my love?”

The way he looked at you and spoke to you made your body feel weak in the best way. The answer was easy for you. “Yes, of course.”

A smile spread across his face. “Excellent.”

A few days later you found yourself in a building outside of the city. It was a bit dumpy on the outside, but the inside was furnished nicely. You were aware that Chrollo engaged in a very secretive business and decided awhile ago not to ask. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to. It didn’t matter, anyways, you loved him. And he loved that about you. 

Chrollo led you into a bedroom, occupied by one other man. You felt a pang of anxiety, not fully knowing what Chrollo meant by being taught what he liked.

“Y/n, this is my friend Feitan,” Chrollo introduced you to smaller man standing before you. The way his cold eyes appraised you sent a shiver down your spine.   You said a polite hello, but he was silent. Chrollo continued, “Feitan is on the quiet side, but I trust him completely. He is going to show you what I want.”

Your stomach rolled anxiously. “Wh-what does that mean, exactly?”

Chrollo gave you an almost sympathetic look. “I don’t want to lie to you, my love. I want you to have sex with Feitan. He’s going to... mold you into the exact type of lover I like.” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Chrollo was a bit possessive, even early on in your relationship, so you couldn’t believe he was telling you to have sex with another man. Your eyes flicked over to Feitan, his aura making you nervous. “Chrollo I don’t-”

Chrollo gently took your jaw in his hands and turned your face back to his. “I thought you trusted me, love?”

“I do, I ju-”

“It will be okay, I promise. This will make our relationship stronger. Everything will be perfect. You want that, don’t you? You love me, don’t you?” He was so close to you, speaking so softly it made you dizzy. You almost forgot Feitan was there and what this situation was for. You never understood the effect Chrollo had on you, just that it was very strong.

“I do, I love you so much,” you replied. 

“If that is true, you’ll do this,” Chrollo replied sweetly, “And I know you will, because I know you love me.”

You nodded. You were nervous, of course, but you couldn’t say to him. “I will, I promise.”

Chrollo smiled. “My good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “Now go sit on the bed, I need to talk to Feitan quickly.” You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed as the two men stepped out side and spoke in hushed tones.

“What rules boss?” Feitan asked.

“Get her how I like them. You know the way,” Chrollo replied, “Do whatever you need to. Choke her or hit her if you need to. Just nothing that will leave a mark, especially not on her face. And don’t cum inside her, that is for me only.”

Feitan nodded. “Understood.” 

With that, the smaller man slipped back inside the room. Your anxiety spiked being alone with him. He pulled his jacket down, revealing his full face. He actually quite handsome, almost similar to Chrollo. He, however, looked more cold and harsh than your boyfriend did.  He was silent as he approached you, appraising your body language. He could tell you were nervous, which excited him.

“Take clothes off,” he stated. With you on the bed and him standing he was able to look down on you.

“I don’t-”

Before you could finish your sentence he gripped your jaw. “It not a request.” You nodded, shaking. He was not someone you wanted to challenged. You slowly took off your shirt, then your pants. You reluctantly went for your bra, but he grabbed your arm. “I do that. You undress me now.”

You nodded, your voice still feeling lodged in your throat. You were just happy to have the focus be on something other than you. You stripped off his jacket, shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear. “Good,” he said before climbing on top of you. 

Your body instinctively shrunk away from him, which made him scowl. “You treat me like Chrollo. You would not hide from him.” He place his hands on your shoulders, pressing your body into a more relaxed position on the mattress. 

“I’m sorry I- this is just hard for me,” you admitted.

“If you listen it will be easy,” he replied. He placed a kiss to the center of you check. “Chrollo will mark you here.” He kissed the top of your breast that your bra didn’t cover. “And here.” He kissed your neck. “And here. And you’ll let him.” 

“O-okay,” you replied. 

“Now we kiss.” He pressed his lips to yours, which were warmer than you thought they were going to be. Still, you felt you couldn’t kiss him back, your lips feeling glued shut. Feitan’s hand wrapped around your neck, making you gasp. Feitan laughed, licking into your mouth. “If you kiss Chrollo like that, he won’t like.” Feitan tightened his hand around your throat, choking you slightly. 

You kept your eyes closed and tried to pretend you were kissing Chrollo. It was hard at first, especially with Feitan tightening his hand more. “Do better.” Eventually you were able to get into a rhythm; you knew you were doing it right when Feitan loosened his grip. 

His grip loosening, however, meant dipping lower to your chest. He squeezed at your boobs over your bra for a moment, before taking it off. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved to cover yourself. Feitan, of course did not allow it. He gripped your arms and pinned them above your head, tsking. “You are slow learner.” 

Feitan kissed and licked at your breasts and neck. He was very careful not pay attention to too much on one spot, as he did not want to leave a mark. Feitan took any job Chrollo gave him seriously, but especially this one. He knew how much trust Chrollo had to have in him to allow him do this. He would never break the trust, but he would make sure the job was well done. By any means necessary. 

“If I release your hands, you will listen?” Feitan questioned.

“Yes,” you replied, still with a shake in your voice. 

Feitan did as he said he would. “Put them in my hair. Gentle. Chrollo like that.” You slid your hands into his dark locks, running your fingers through them softly. Feitan went back to kissing you as you did this. He smacked you bare thigh when your lips got too stiff again. You yelped, but continued to kiss him like he wanted. Like Chrollo wanted, you reminded yourself. this was for him.

His hand slid down your body, between your thighs. Your legs shut, making him slap your thigh again and roughly pry them open. “Stop fighting.” He ran his hand over your clothed cunt. You focused on kissing him and running your hands through his hair as he touched you. His rubbed your clit through the fabric. You were surprised how it made your stomach curl, how it felt... good. 

It made it a little easier to kiss him and touch him. You let your hands wander a little further down his back, making him hum in approval. You gasped when his finger slipped inside you, but recovered quickly. Feitan curled his finger into a spot that made your breath go ragged. He pumped his fingers faster, your cunt getting wetter by the minute. Your brain was a confused mess. On one hand it was weird to be touched by this stranger, on the other it did feel good. 

Feitan slid in a second finger and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. Feitan gripped your jaw. “Don’t be quiet. He’ll wanna hear.” Feitan scissored your his fingers inside you, stretching you out. This time you let a moan slip from your lips. “Good.” He pulled his fingers out of you and put them in front of your lips. “Now suck.”

You took in his fingers, sucking at them. “More.” He shoved them deeper in your mouth, making you gag a little. You tried to correct yourself quickly, letting your tongue roll up and down the length of them, tasting yourself. Feitan yanked your underwear off and it took everything in you not to hide yourself. You felt so exposed under his gaze. 

As he stripped off his underwear and climbed on top of you, the reality of what was about to happen set in and you started to panic. “No!” you cried trying to close your legs. It was no use, Feitan was so much stronger than you. He dug his nails into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you wince.

“You obey, not fight,” Feitan growled, bullying his way between your legs. You brought your hands up and start smacking his chest and shoving him away. A sudden, swift slap to your face stunned you into stillness. Your face stung as he gave you a look that struck fear into you. He gripped your jaw achingly tight and got in your face. “Chrollo never love you like this. He want girl who behave. Who listens.”

“But-” He dug his nails into your thigh more, making you yelp.

“And you never say no to Chrollo,” he practically spat. He released his grip on you, but his gaze kept you pinned in place. “You going to behave now? Or do I tell Chrollo you don’t love him enough.”

You gulped. “P-please don’t.”

“Then shut up and take it,” he replied, flipping you in your stomach. “You can’t be trusted on back.” He took both go your hands in one of his, holding them to your lower back, effectively making you immobile. You felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, covering himself in your slick. He gave you no warning when he pressed into you, making you gasp. 

Despite his smaller stature, his cock stretched your cunt. You whined as he thrust into you, not giving you any time to adjust. A slap came down on your ass. “Arch back more.” His free hand went down the length of your spine, putting you into place. The new position allowed him to get deeper inside you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Feels better for him. And you.” He was right, it felt so good. Your pussy throbbed with each brush of his cock at that sweet spot.

When you bit your lip to stifle a moan, you earned another sharp slap to your ass. You opened your mouth to cry out in pain, but it turned into a damn near pornographic moan as Feitan pounded you through it. “Like that. Let me hear.” 

He continued to pound into you rough and hard. You knew you should hate it, that it shouldn’t feel so good, but god it did. You weren’t even faking your moans, they were all real reflections of the pleasure he gave you. Just when you thought it couldn't get more intense, his free hand snaked around to play with your clit.

“Fuck Feitan!” you cried out. You were on the precipice of an orgasm when he pulled his hand away, making you whine.

“You want to cum? Beg.”

“Please!” Another hard slap on your ass.

“Better than that.”

You begged, desperately, “Please Feitan! Please! Let me cum. I need to!”

“Good.” His hand was back on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Now cum.” Your body responded immediately, tensing then melting into a deep, euphoric state. You were sure to moan loudly, to show him just how good it felt. You have heard him say good again, but your mind was too foggy to be sure. All you know is that he didn’t slap you again, so you must be doing something right.

Feitan pulled out of you quickly, spilling his cum on your ass and back with a low groan. He very much enjoyed when Chrollo gave him jobs like this. “Chrollo will cum inside. And you let him.” You nodded, feeling hazy and spent. Your body collapsed on to the bed as Feitan got up. He tossed a towel at you and told you to clean yourself up. You did your best to wipe his release off yourself as he dressed and disappeared out of the room. 

You were just finished dressing when the door opened again. This time it was your boyfriend. “Chrollo!” you cried out with relief. You ran to him, hugging him tightly. He chuckled lightly; you played right into his plan. He knew Feitan would be rough with you and knew that would make you love his gentleness towards you even more. It was just another way to manipulate you into believing he was a good guy, to make you desperate for his approval.

“My sweet girl,” he hummed rubbing your head. “Feitan said you did good. Just a few more lessons and you’ll be perfect. I'm so proud of you, angel.”

You sniffled. “Really?”

“Of course,” Chrollo replied, giving you a chaste kiss. “I know you must really love me to do this. It makes me so happy. I hope you know I love you, too. All of the is for us, for out relationship.”

Maybe if you weren’t in such as haze you’d realize how ridiculous this all was. Or if you weren't s enamored with him. But both of those things blinded you. “I do love you! I know you love me too. I’ll do anything, I’ll learn fast. I promise.” 

You returned to Feitan’s bed handful of more times over the next few weeks. He taught you to be the perfect lover for Chrollo, someone who submits fully and is eager to please. Overtime you found the lessons to be easier, even enjoyable. Well, maybe that was too strong of a word, but they were pleasurable. Feitan wasn’t gentle with you, but the more you learned and complied, the less he hit or was unnecessarily rough. You couldn’t deny that Feitan knew what he was doing.

Your favorite part, however, was how Chrollo treated you after. You lived for the praise he showered you with, how he kissed and held you. You never once doubted that he loved you, despite handing you over to Feitan. Your hard work paid off when Feitan finally told Chrollo you were ready.

You were a mix of nervous excitement as Chrollo led you to his bedroom. The two of you went out to dinner to celebrate and now it was time to show him you could be the perfect girl for him. You knew Feitan taught you well, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Chrollo’s lips found yours as you settled into the bed. Your lips moved against his with ease. You parted your mouth slightly, allowing your tongues to swirl together.

“Take your clothes off, my love,” Chrollo whispered in your ear.

“Yes sir,” you replied. You slid out go your dress, letting him admire the lingerie he bought for the occasion.

“All off.”

“Yes sir.”

Your cheeks flushed as you removed the final article of clothings covering you. Chrollo’s gaze was definitely softer than Feitan’s, but it still made your stomach flutter with nerves. You kept a brave face, letting him look without covering anything.

Chrollo smiled. “So beautiful,” he crawled on top of you, kissing your breasts. “My beautiful girl.” He sucked at the skin, in a way that would definitely leave a mark. “And all mine.” He continued kissing, sucking, licking up your chest and neck. You slid your hands through his hair, pressing your body into his touch. Chrollo hummed approvingly. “I allowed Feitan to touch you, but you’re mine. Everyone will know it. You want that right, baby? To be mine?”

“Yes!” you practically cried out as he sucked on a sensitive part of your neck. “’M all yours. Only yours.”

“Good girl,” he purred. He kissed you again as his hand traveled down you body. You slid your thighs open, allowing him access to your throbbing cunt. His fingers slid through you, letting your arousal coat them. “Soaked for me already? Didn’t realize you were so desperate for me.”

“Need you so b-oh,” your sentence died off in a moan as he pressed a finger inside you.

“What's that? I didn’t hear you,” Chrollo mused, pumping his fingers in you. He curled his finger against your sensitive spot, which had you mewling. 

“N-need you so bad!” you cried. His thumb made contact with your clit, making your body jolt. Your thighs instinctively wanted to close from the pleasure, but you kept them open, as you knew he wanted.

“Think I wanna taste this pretty pussy. Would you like that, y/n? What my mouth on your cunt?” Chrollo asked, toying with your pussy.

“Yes sir! Want it, want whatever you want,” you replied breathlessly. 

Chrollo smiled, loving your desperation, how it was clear you would let him do anything he wanted. He laid between your legs, licking a stripe up your pussy. “Mmm, so sweet.” He went straight to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. You didn’t stifle your moans at all. Your hands slid through his hair again, running your nails along the scalp. Chrollo let his tongue tease your hole, while his finger took over at your clit. You rolled your hips into him, grinding your pussy against his face just as Feitan told you to. 

Chrollo’s tongue and fingers switched places. He fucked you with his fingers more intensely, giving your pussy a nice stretch.

“P-please, can I cum?” you questioned, trying to desperately to hold on. You did not want to cum before you were allowed. That was a big no.

Chrollo smiled. “Because you asked so nicely.” Your body responded immediately, releasing on his face. Your cried out his name as his tongue flicked your clit through your orgasm. Feitan had made you feel good, but Chrollo made you feel amazing. You knew your love for him made it so much better.

Chrollo sat up, appraising your body. He loved the power of you being naked and him being dressed.  He loved that he could already see bruises forming on your neck. How you already looked fucked out from just his tongue. How you were looking up at him, desperate for more, but waiting for him to tell you what to do. He made a mental note to thank Feitan again.

“Undress me.” 

You complied immediately. “Yes, sir.” Your body was weak from your orgasm, your hands shaking. Chrollo was amused by how your were so desperate for him that you struggled with he buttons on his shirt. You planted kisses down his body as you removed his clothing, another lesson from Feitan. When he was finally naked, you sat back and waited for his instruction.

Chrollo climbed back on top of you and you parted your legs for him dutifully. He teased his type at your hole. “Beg for it.”

“Please Chrollo! Want you so bad,” You begged, “Need you. Only you. Please let me make you feel good!”

Chrollo made a noise of approval. “Such a good girl for me.” He slid his cock into you, making you gasp. He was definitely a little bigger than Feitan, giving you a stretch. He pushed himself in slower than Feitan did, but didn’t give you much time to adjust. He rolled his hips against your yours, his paces quickly increasing. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip the digit in. You sucked on it, keeping your eyes on his. You could feel Chrollo’s cock throb, egging you on. You began rolling your hips up to meet his, just like Feitan taught you. 

“Fuck, I love you angel,” Chrollo groaned, “Knew you’d be my perfect girl.” He slipped his thumb out of your mouth, but kept his hand wrapped around your throat. You moaned, despite his grip getting tighter around you. That combined with him pounding into your pussy made you teeter close to edge.

“Chrollo I-nngh ‘m close,” you gasped. “Please can I cum?”

Chrollo dipped in to kiss you before responded, “Yes baby. Cum on my cock.” Your head lolled back as your second orgasm flooded your body. His name slipped from your lips in a desperate moan as the pleasure had you seeing stars. Chrollo fucked you through it, your spasming walls eventually pushing him over the edge. He moaned your name - the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard - filling your pussy with his warm release. His final way to fully claim you as his. 

He didn’t pull out even when you both finished, leaning in to kiss you more. “I love you so much, you were so perfect,” he praised between kiss. “And now you’re mine. Forever.” 

[dduane]

Buenas tardes:

I’m writing you this ask with fear that it might seem weird but, do you have any advice about starting to publish books nowadays? I have seen some Amazon auto publishing in kindle, but I’m not sure how trustworthy that is, with all that AI going around. Nor what other options might be.

Thank you so much for your time, I loved your Star Trek novels

A

P.S.I apologise for the broken English, it is not my first language

First of all: your English is fine—don't worry about it. :) (And thanks for the nice words about the Trek books! I very much appreciate them.)

About getting into self-publishing in general: There are a lot of pathways into it, and some that (for various reasons of ethics) may rightly be seen as superior. But Amazon does seem to some folks as the most accessible "way in" for people who don't have a lot of money to invest in their startup. For the moment, therefore, let's stick with that.

There's no question that starting selfpub at the Zon is a lot more dodgy than it used to be. But I think your odds of success—and don't forget, there are a lot of metrics for "success"—are as good as any other real person's.

It's also worth noting in passing that Amazon now requires you to specify whether or not your submission contains any AI. (And naturally, AI-using scammers and other people eager to game the system are going to lie about this.)

For the moment, never mind the AI. Your job as a new Amazon-based writer is mainly to write some books, publish them, and then market the hell out of them, any way you can, while you write some more. It may seem daunting, but there are well-traveled pathways to start doing this.

Adding a break here, because this is likely to run a bit long. Warning: contains work, work and more work, without any ironclad guarantee of success; also incredible oversimplification of a long and complex process. (But I'm already working on three books at the moment, so forgive me for not escalating this into a fourth.) :)

Very briefly, here's a nod toward general strategy. (And forgive me for glossing over, here, the admittedly huge effort and commitment required for conceiving and writing just one book, let alone a series of them. Or numerous series of them. Self-publishing involves gigantic amounts of hard work... but I think you've already suspected that.)

Having talked to people who've worked exclusively in Amazon and have (or had) no previous publishing credential, they've emphasized to me the importance, when you're getting started, of having at least a few books ready to go when you're ready to start publishing. Meaning that you can't write just one and fling it out there into the cold cruel world on its own. Readers who immediately look for more of your work and don't find it are likely to dismiss you, and it, as not worth a second look... mostly because the Algorithm has trained them to.

So let's pretend you've got a series of books to publish—and this can be open-ended or not: at this point it doesn't matter. Let's say that, to launch yourself and your work, you've written three books (ideally no shorter than 50,000 words, and between 60-80K is thought to be better). The idea is that those will be plenty to start with, and enough to let your readers decide whether they like what you're doing. (Writing them will also serve as useful proof of concept that you can actually write novels, if you don't already have any proof already.)

The strategy that's been described to me is for you, at this point, to release those three books into Amazon a week (or two or three) apart. Then, when they're all out there, you publish to Kindle Unlimited, as a "free sample", a shorter work in that series—ideally some kind of prequel—containing links to the three main novels.

Then you keep repeating this kind of pattern as often as is comfortable for you, while carefully studying the analysis of results Amazon will provide for you so that you can see what seems to be working best and/or what's not working at all.

Now comes the question of how best to support those novels (and the ones that will follow them). Leaving aside the complex question of how and when and where to advertise (and how to afford it!), you need a way to make it easy for readers and other interested parties to reassure themselves, if they need it, that you're a real person: and that you are in fact a writer who's serious about their business and in it for the long haul. For this you need at least two things:

A website

A social media presence

The website can be handled a number of different ways... though I'd suggest you avoid build-your-own-site-easy platforms like Wix if you can: they don't seem to be terribly good at the customer support end, and I'm not convinced that they're any cheaper in the long run than buying your own domain name, buying hosting for it, and posting a WordPress site in that online space. But at the very least, you need a site where you can talk a little about yourself, and mostly about your books, and publish links to their locations on Amazon.

The social media presence can be in one or two places, or lots, depending on how much energy you have to spend on this part of the effort. The main advice I can offer you here, both from my own experience and others', is to absolutely NOT have your entire social media presence—especially in the shortest-form types of social media like Twitter and Bluesky—be about pushing your own work. There seem to be few things that will turn people off you faster. And also, these days maybe such an approach would make people likelier to mistake you for AI. Let people see who you are, and at intervals let them know that you write, too.

(sitting back and looking at all this) If all this sounds like a ton of work? Make no mistake, it really is. It can get exhausting. But this is just one of the areas where your passion and determination as a writer will be tested over the long haul.

It might have been simpler, back in The Day, to just write and let your publisher get on with all the stuff that surrounded bringing a book out. But there was also a whole lot less control for the writer, in that older paradigm. The newer one offers you a lot more control... and a lot more work, which may or may not yield a lot more profit. All you can do is give it a shot and see how it works out for you.

In any case, however you decide to proceed: I wish you good luck on the journey!

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

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

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

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

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

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

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

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

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

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

"Emily," JJ warns.

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

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

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

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

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

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

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

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, why do you ask?"

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

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

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

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

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

"He did," Spencer agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd love that Spence."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I," he brings himself back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a road you do not turn back from.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Needing him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

"I am yours," he responds.

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

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

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

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

"Please," you beg in his ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

[hannieehaee]

just saw ur orange peel hcs and it made me think about how the members would react to the ketchup on counter trend (i find the trend to be incredibly sad tbh)

in particular, i can just see cheol, mingyu, shua and dk be like ????? what kind of people have u been w in the past babe? are u okay?

haven’t thought about the other members and their reactions to it tho

ketchup on counter trend

content: established relationship, cleaning, fluff, crack, etc.

wc: 701

a/n: i'm ngl i have no idea what this trend is lol i dont have tiktok but i tried looking it up and i think maybe i found it?? if i got it wrong pls let me know<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

confused at you and refusing to clean it up until you explain why you'd make a mess on purpose. not mad but just very lost. when you explained it, his innate need to be the best boyfriend would make him wanna clean it up for you and even wipe the whole counter if necessary to prove what a great boyfriend he was.

jeonghan -

he has no concept of current trends so you'd have to explain it to him before he agreed to clean it up. would still say no afterwards just to annoy you and bc it was technically your own mess. would still kiss your pout right off your face afterwards, proving himself to be a sweet yet annoying boyfriend.

joshua -

would ask why you keep on testing him like this when you already know he's the perfect boyfriend!! he'd clean it up with no issue but would jokingly side eye you about it.

jun -

he'd immediately assume it was some sort of challenge since this was kind of a dumb thing to do for no reason. just to prove himself to be the perfect boyfriend, he'd clean it up without letting you know that he knew he was being tested. would maybe jokingly bite you in defiance afterwards due to the silliness of it all (idk i see him as someone who bites lovingly OK its my headcanon)

soonyoung -

he's chronically online so he already knew what you were doing so he'd just giggle and convince you to help him clean it up, since he knew he'd make it an even bigger mess if he did it on his own.

wonwoo -

rolls his eyes (lovingly) at you and stops whatever he's doing to go clean up your mess. he's really clean so it'd take him under a minute and then he'd place the ketchup out of your reach so you couldnt do it again. would even straight up as you if there were any other proofs of love he needed to get through or if you were ready to sit on his lap while he played video games again.

jihoon -

yet another member who'd just be confused at why you'd do that. but he kinda enjoys cleaning anyway, so he'd just clean it up for you. wouldnt ask since he'd just assume it was yet another test of love you found on tiktok. he'd have a hard time not smearing the mess further but would get the job done easily enough.

seokmin -

he wouldnt even think twice before cleaning it up, apparently automatically coded to do any and every little task for you with no question. he'd only realize what happened til after he had cleaned it up, leading him to ask why you spilled ketchup on purpose. when you explained, he'd just jokingly scold you about it.

mingyu -

he'd be confused for a second, turning his head to the side like a confused puppy before cleaning up without further question. would have no issue cleaning it up perfectly on his first try.

minghao -

he knew what the challenge was and would chuckle at how silly it was for you to try and test him on it. would clean it up perfectly just to prove a point that 1. he was the perfect boyfriend and 2. he was competent enough to clean up whenever necessary.

seungkwan -

even if he knew you were just testing him for a lil challenge, he'd lightheartedly scold you for it and go into full mom mode and clean it up as he scolded you for it. he'd kinda have some type of cuteness aggression towards you afterwards, claiming you frustrated him but in a good way.

vernon -

would react to it by asking you why you'd make a mess on purpose? wouldn't get angry about it, just extremely confused. wouldnt wanna clean it up though since you'd caused the mess so he'd settle for a compromise in which he'd help you as long as you explained yourself.

chan -

he'd be confused but the moment you gave him an expectant look and asked him to please clean it up for you, he'd do it without question lol. he'd just want some praise in return.

[milkweedman]

Proof of concept thorn tool. (Much better versions of) these are known throughout prehistory and were used to process plant fibers. I didn't know if they'd work well enough on milkweed to bother with, but now I have tried.

I probably need at least 30 thorns, and definitely longer ones. I was collecting and storing some in my rollator bag, and I think they might have been falling out because I definitely picked way more. But even like 7 or so very short ones bound together (badly) with flax was still, in fact, a far more effective tool than just my hands.

I only processed one milkweed stalk, since it was getting dark and this tool does absolutely suck, but I got it from whole rhetted stalk to fiber in about 10 minutes, and I think I could easily do 2 or 3 stalks at once and it would take the same.

I first smashed the stalk with a hammerstone against a wooden stump to get the hard pith out. The stone on wood technique is new to me but very effective. I'd been trying stone on stone (lack of available tree stumps to work on) and it hardly gets the pith out at all. But stone on wood is super effective as well, definitely will keep doing that.

After removing the pith I combed it repeatedly with the tool. This was made difficult by the fact that the tool was constantly wiggling around and falling apart. But it quickly stripped the outer layer off the fibers. Previously I had been rubbing them between my hands, which was very very slow and tended to damage the fibers. I got the idea from Sally Pointer's videos, but I think milkweed might just have too thin an outer layer ? Or some other reason (or maybe I was doing it wrong, but I don't see how as it is just rubbing). So the tool worked much better and faster. It did produce a lot of tow, although better technique and a better tool will probably help with that.

The line fibers

The tow fibers (top--I didn't have the energy to clean them up, but these should be spinnable as a rolag once I do)

Also tried a little cordage. My twist ratio was way off, which is a new cordage problem for me. I was curious how it would work up, but I don't plan to continue it. Not sure what to do with the rest of the milkweed though. I'm not very confident about spinning it, although maybe if I processed it more I'd have a better chance. At the moment it feels very rigid...not like the flax or hemp I've used.

Anyway, I need to go back to the hawthorn trees I found in the winter and look for new thorns I guess, although it might be too early. I really want a better tool so I can process the mountain of milkweed stalks before I move.

[calware]

Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!