#it's just WOW didn't expect it to be that long

[dduane]

Is it just us, or are other people seeing this kind of thing...?

[SFX: DRAMATIC STING—DUM DUM DUMMMMMMM!]

Is this a local phenomenon, or are other people's weather outlets framing their weather headlines in increasingly clickbait-y style meant to raise the general anxiety level?

Here's the rest of the newspaper-generated copy associated with the current weather report. (I'm not linking to it: they can get their clicks somewhere else.)

Met Eireann has issued a five-day heat alert for Ireland, warning of rising temperatures as the country finally enjoys a period of dry and settled weather. Thermometers could read 22C in parts today and are set to rise "by the day" peaking at nearly 25C by Monday. The weekend's forecast also promises to be mostly dry, with just a few patches of light rain or drizzle. But don't get too comfortable - as the national forecaster has flagged a possible ominous twist in what could follow the warm spell. While long-range forecasts are notoriously subject to change, at this stage, the meteorological agency says there's a chance the weather will take a terrible turn.

...You ready for it? Brace yourselves—

It said: "Some uncertainty and possibly unsettled beyond Monday".

...FFS. [Insert OLDER WOMAN SHAKING FIST AT CLOUD.]

(laughter) Seriously. For the edification of the readership, I append here the rest of the OMG OMINOUS 111!!11 forecast... so you can see what, for some poor overworked headline writer at the Mirror, is being made to pass for high drama around here. Warning: beware of overloaded verbs.

In the meantime, Met Eireann has alerted (!!!) that Ireland will enjoy at least five days of mild weather as warm air engulfs (!!!!) the country. At present, Sunday looks to be the best day, as compared to other days, it offers the best combination of warm temperatures and sunny spells.

Oh wow, blessed relief from the overwhelming tension. I'm skipping the Thursday and Friday predictions.

Giving day-by-day breakdown of what to expect over the coming days, Met Eireann said: "...Sunny spells at first Saturday along with a few light showers before turning cloudier through the morning with some patchy light rain or drizzle developing, mainly for Atlantic counties. Highest temperatures of 16C to 21C , coolest for Atlantic coastal areas, in light to moderate southwesterly winds, fresher for a time in the west and northwest. Cloudy and humid Saturday night with just a few spots of light rain or drizzle. Temperatures not falling below 11C to 15C in light westerly or variable breezes. "Rather cloudy to begin Sunday with a few spots of light rain or drizzle. Sunny spells will gradually develop along with some scattered. Highest temperatures of 18C to 23C in a mostly light southwesterly breeze. "A warm day Monday with a mix of cloud and sunny spells, especially in the south and east. A few showers will likely develop. Highest temperatures of 20C to 24C generally in light breezes. "Some uncertainty and possibly unsettled weather in the further outlook."

(eyeroll) I was going to read the weather forecast anyway, you know? They didn't need to scare me into it.

Though what's probably actually terrifying them is the possibility that I might just go to the Met Eireann website and read the forecast for free. Without the ads and the dramatic language. Especially without the ads. :)

ETA: Oh wait, I forgot to post this one. Check this out.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

My Girl 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother’s friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You carefully pull the pastry over the slices of apple a cinnamon. You twist the corners together to complete the effect and hold it in place. Your blossoms are your specialty. You'll sprinkle coarse sugar over the top before you put them in the oven but for now, they'll have to rest. Your mother still has food cooking for the main course. 

You start another one, roll it out the pastry, slice it just so, wrap, and twist…  

The front door clatters and you hear Isaac say hello to your mom on her way in, “where's dad?” He adds on. 

“He'll be home soon,” she chimes. She's indulging in some wine for all her hard work in the kitchen. 

You can't help but long for your bed and the book you left on your pillow. The real world is always so monotonous. You enjoy baking but you'd rather finish the chapter. Sigh, you suppose that comes with the human condition; you're obligated to acknowledge the non-fictional slog. 

“Hey,” the deep rumble cuts through the air like the distance approach of some lingering dragon in its lair. You pop your head up and look over as Sy sets down his usual courtesy; beer and wine. He looks at you then the pan you line with pastry and fruit. “Er, whatcha making?” 

You look back to your hands and finish the twist, “apple blossoms.” 

“Mm, I like apple,” he steps closer to the counter, stopping at the counter, wavering as if he's afraid to come any further.  

“Thanks, er, oh, me too,” you shrug awkwardly, “my grandma taught me.” 

“Ah,” he nods and looks to the side, scratching his beard as he puffs out, “how's… how's your book?” 

You rinse of your hands, drying them thoroughly, “it's alright. I read it before.” 

“Tolkien, right?” He wonders. 

You nod. 

“Ahem, yeah, I… I started… the Fellowship one… pretty good so far.” 

“Oh? You did?” You face him. 

“I pick it up on my break, get a few pages here and there,” he chews his lip and pats his front pocket, feeling along it before dipping his fingers into the fabric, his brow slanting, “I… I made this.” 

He slides out a long flat piece of metal. It's slender and delicate, corner rounded to an oval, with elven patterning along its face. You squint and lean in to have a better look. 

“Wow. What is it?” 

“It's for you,” he says abruptly, “I mean it's a bookmark. I made it for you.” 

“Me?” You wonder as your eyes round, “that’s…” you look him in the face, “why– you didn't have to do that, Sy.” 

“Eh, it isn't much,” he holds it out, “be good to keep your place and all. You never drink the wine or nothing so…” 

“That's… sweet,” you smile and accept the book mark, turning it over. Your name is wrought in beautiful calligraphy on the other side, “it's beautiful.” 

He's quiet as you admire his handiwork. You don't know what else to say. You didn't expect it. You wouldn't expect him to think that much about you. 

“Anything I can help with?” He breaks the stuffy silence, made more stolid by the radiating heat of the stove. 

“Um, no, I'm pretty much done,” you move the pan of blossoms to the other counter, “but thank you.” 

“Ain't no trouble,” he assures and taps the countertop with his thick fingers, “s'pose I'll see ya at dinner.” 

“Sure,” you say over your shoulder. 

You wait until he's gone and back up, looking down at the bookmark. You can't believe how nice it is. How delicate. How can someone like him make something so elegant? Once more you’re reminded of the brutish dwarves and their renowned creations. 

You'll have to do something for him. To make it even. You don't know much about Sy but you know about Tolkien. You're sure you'll come up with something. 

📖

You sit down for dinner. It seems a lot for just a Wednesday. You won't complain even if you would rather be reading. Your mom has put together a merry feast which could feed a king himself. 

The chair beside you scrapes out and you expect Isaac to elbow you as he always does. Instead, he takes the chair across from you. Sy claims the seat to your left. He’s so big, he can’t help but brush your arm with his thick one. You send him a meek smile and he nods. 

As you serve yourselves from the glistening roast and potatoes and medley of salads and veggies, your mother flutters around offering to fill glasses. When she finally sits, she can barely stay still. 

“So, I know this is a lot,” she begins, “but I have news I wanted to share and this is my little surprise celebration.” 

You quirk your head and Isaac barely reacts as he cuts into the pork. 

“I've been given a really big opportunity at work and I'll be heading up a new project,” she's shaking with excitement, “in London.” 

“London?” You echo and look around. 

Isaac chews around his confusion as he finally reacts but your dad only smiles at your mother. You try to muster some positivity but you’re too surprised. This is a bigger twist than any book you’ve read. 

“I'll be gone for three weeks,” she says, “so yeah, I'll miss you all. I know it's all very sudden but I can't pass this up and I know you'll be okay.” 

“What?” Isaac chokes down his food. 

“Congratulations,” Sy says, “that's big news.” 

“When do you leave?” You ask. 

“Friday.” 

“Friday?” You gasp. 

“I know it's short notice but there were details to be confirmed and–” 

“Mom,” you squeak, “that's… that's great. I'm happy. Just… surprised.” 

“What are we gonna do?” Isaac whines. He dramatically sits back and rubs his cheeks. 

Sy clears his throat, “you're grown. You'll figure it out. You should be happy for your mother.” 

“He's right,” your dad growls, “your mom worked hard for this.” 

“We'll be okay,” you wisp, assuring yourself as much as everyone else. 

“Won't be long at all,” your mother beams even as she gets teary-eyed, “I'll call you every day.” 

📖

After dinner, you offer to clear the table. You want to think. You’’ll miss your mom when she’s gone. You assume you’ll be doing much of the cooking in her absence. You don’t mind, she always does so much. But that isn’t the only thing that will go away with your mom.  

It’s just disappointing that you were away for college and finally get back home and she’s leaving. You wasted the time you did have. You shouldn’t have spent all those hours with the Fellowship. You should have spent it in reality. Funny how fast your perspective can shift. 

You finish up tidying as you hear the voices from the front porch. The smell of the apple blossoms lace the air with cinnamon. You take them out of the oven, they’re perfectly golden and some of the apply good noose oozes out the little slits in the side. You plate each with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and take them out two at a time. 

You elbow out onto the porch, the snap of the screen door announcing your arrival. Your mom and dad sit on the porch swing as Sy stands across from them leaning on the railing. You force out a ‘hi’ and hand your parents their plates before you step back. 

“I’ll grab yours,” you say to Sy, “does anyone want tea or coffee?” 

“Oh, peanut, you’re so sweet, I wouldn’t mind some tea... even though I’m sure I’ll have more than enough in England,” she chuckles. 

“Decaf, please,” your dad grins. 

“Alright, will do,” you say. 

“I’ll help,” Sy stands straight, “you’ll have your hands full.” 

“Aw, Sy, you are too much,” your mother preens. 

“Where’s Isaac?” You wonder allow as your hand hovers on the screen door. 

“Moping, somewhere,” your father scoffs. “let him come out for his own dessert, if he wants it.” 

“Oh, right,” you accept and as you turn, a hand grabs the door above yours and pulls it open. Sy is close as he reaches above you to let you inside. You flit ahead of him and he follows with his sturdy steps, pausing to leave his boots on the mat. 

“You don’t have to help,” you say as you grab his plate and offer it to him as he enters the kitchen, “I just gotta put the water on.” 

“Wanna,” he says, “leave mine there. Why don’t you have some?” He insists. 

“I will,” you assure him and reluctantly put the plate back on the counter. 

You turn and flip on the electric kettle. You take out your mother’s favourite mug and a tea ball. As you do that, Sy nears the counter next to you. 

“Where’s the decaf?” He asks. 

“I said you don’t have to,” you giggle out your nerves, “really, I got it.” 

“I said, I want to,” he shrugs, “I don’t mind.” 

You don’t want to argue. How can you? He’s being helpful and you won’t have much of that. Isaac and your dad work so naturally, you’ll be taking on more of the housework. You’re not unhappy at that prospect, you just don’t want things to change so fast. 

“You’re gonna miss your mom?” Again, his questions sound like statements. 

You wince and nod, “yeah,” you close the tea ball and hook the chain on the rim of the cup. He works diligently to loud the coffee maker, measuring out the grounds deliberately. You can’t really explain everything you feel. 

“Well,” he snaps the lid down, “if ya need anything, let me know.” He backs up and goes to the other end of the counter. He slowly turns the plate of pastry and ice cream, “make sure you get some too. Can’t be doin’ all that hard work for nothing.” 

He slides the plate towards him and lifts it. He turns his broad shoulders to you and stalks out. You hear the spook clink into the porcelain before he reaches the front door and he lets out a rumbling purr. Well, at least the dessert turned out. 

[whispereons]

Masterlist!

I'm Whispereons and I mainly write yandere Genshin Impact fics. The SAGAU is my long time obsession if it wasn't obvious.

For ease of convenience I will have this masterlist pinned with my works, taglist, and tags used on my blog.

Currently I don't have any rules to abide by. I enjoyed all the comments, reblogs, asks and submissions I received thus far!

Just a warning for anyone new, I advise you to make sure your blog has some form of personalization. Like a profile pic, a sentence saying hello in your bio or even just a single post saying you're human will do. It's to prevent you from getting the report and block combo when I do my spam/porn bot purges.

SAGAU works

Oracle!Reader - with my current editor @serpent-benediction (hopefully) fixing up the older chapters.

Followers Special: 1K

Inazuma:

City - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Sea - Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Liyue:

City - Part 9, Part 10, Wilderness - Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18 City V2 - Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24

(Don't judge my old works too harshly, I really was new at writing!)

Self-aware Genshin Impact Series (incomplete): Warmth, Screen, Team Player, Over This Shit

Oneshots - Another Drink, It's tough to be a God

Normal Yandere Genshin Impact:

Venti/Barbatoes x EOS!Reader: Planned, Protection or Possession?, Control

Tags to use to navigate my posts!

#whisp's amateur work - all of my writing

#sagau oracle au - everything related to my oracle!reader (was implemented late so the first tag is more reliable)

#a whispered response - me answering asks/submissions

#whisp's collection - my personal collection of my fav authors, artists, and anything else. My mindless reblogs aren't tagged with anything to avoid cluttering the tag system.

#peering into the whisp - if I get personal asks, this is the tag I would use

If you regularly sends asks with some way to identify you then I usually give you a tag too.

My taglist for my Oracle!Reader:

If you are in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! That could be due to you being shadow banned or having your settings set to hide you from being searched. I will keep this master list updated with each new user, I truly don't mind tagging you all. It's honestly a nice feeling.

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum

[utilitycaster]

Do you think that Laura and Marisha are deliberately making their relationship somewhat toxic and unsustainable or do you think they see the relationship as healthy? It is just so different from all of the other relationships they have been a part of and not really in a good way. Would love to get your perspective on it if you have one

I am honestly unsure. I would like to say it's deliberate. Prior to it becoming canon, in fact, I, and a lot of other people who were less than enthused by Imogen and Laudna's romance and weren't entirely sold from the start, made the case that we expected they would be talking to each other and would put together a compelling story, not the dull fluff so common in fanon. While whether it's compelling is a subjective judgment, we know for a fact they didn't talk to each other. We know for a fact Marisha was surprised by the question of "Can I kiss you," and Laura was surprised by the answer. We know from a 4SD not long after (4SD #16, Kiss and Tell) that several episodes later they still hadn't talked. We know that Marisha perceives Laudna as holding Imogen back (and that Laudna perceives herself as doing so) from the Rose City Q&A. We know that from 4SD #20 (Episode Twenty) that Laura doesn't like conflict in narrative and Marisha does, and that Laura was thrown by Laudna's regression following Ashton's attempt to absorb the shard (4SD #19, Shard Candy).

I don't know if it's deliberate or not; I don't have any extra insight that isn't public knowledge any fan can easily access. But man, it doesn't feel like these are two actors on the same page about what's going on.

I've touched on this before but mostly in tags or whisper posts but I've always felt ill at ease with a number of for lack of a better term "fandom-approved opinions" and one of the ones that has baffled me the most is this idea that Marisha and Laura have exceptional chemistry. I watched Campaign 1 knowing the endgame ships but deliberately avoiding the fandom, and Vex and Keyleth did not even once occur to me as a thing. I watched the first year of Campaign 2 without a ton of fandom interaction because I was avoiding additional C1 spoilers and it seemed crystal clear that the obvious ship was Beau and Yasha; it felt like Beau and Jester only even had enough potential for me to multiship it as my general "whomever Jester picks" for like, 30 episodes. And yet people - people who didn't even ship either of the above ships and in some cases disliked them- would just say "oh man I can't wait until we get to a campaign where we can finally explore Marisha and Laura's incredible chemistry!" and it's like. I feel like I'm the kid in the Emperor's New Clothes on this! I understand that chemistry is to an extent a matter of taste and subjectivity, but it just increasingly feels like people looked at two campaigns of tables where Ashley was frequently absent and said "well, if I want an F/F ship that's between two of the women in the cast, I guess this is what I have to work with" and repeated to themselves that a flat pamplemousse La Croix was a Piña Colada until they started to believe it. I mean if someone wants to explain it to me in good faith I suppose be my guest and I will try to take it in, but it feels like people just treat this as incontrovertible fact and if you doubt it they're like "don't you have eyes" and it's like, well, pretend I don't. Explain like I'm eyeless and five because I have never understood this. They both have more chemistry with every single other cast member; it's not all romantic but man, I didn't even buy Laudna and Imogen as platonic best friends of two years. I have never had this problem with any other pre-existing character relationships Marisha and Laura have played, platonic or otherwise. It's literally just them. I just never feel like they're quite on the same page.

Back to the relationship between Imogen and Laudna onscreen, this was easily the best conversation since the start of the gnarlrock fight, and it is my hope it doesn't fizzle out the way that did. You can't keep kissing Laudna whenever she fears she's lost forever to Delilah, Imogen. Or you can, but that won't fix the problem. Again: are you disgusted? Do you feel betrayed? If you're not, why did you say that? If you are, how will you move past it? Do you want to be with someone who never feels like they're good enough for you? Laudna, do you want to be with someone who, no matter what they say, you feel you're holding back?

Early in the campaign, my feeling was that of our current situation, switched - Imogen felt her powers were a burden and a curse and Laudna kept referring to them and to her glowingly. It's just...ships passing in the night, no pun intended here. I hope it's on purpose and whatever comes from it is a good story - and either a tragedy or a happy story could be a good one. But I have a nagging sensation that Laudna wants out but is afraid to say no, and Imogen is afraid to let go, and I honestly don't know if the actors have realized this impasse and how the characters might resolve it, one way or another, besides the insufficient bandaid of a kiss whenever the conversation gets too uncomfortable.

[2hoothoots]

"Dion! Dioooon!" Mirtala’s voice rang out across the campsite; clear like a bell, pleading like a kitten’s mew, and shrill in the way only the cries of a five-and-a-half-year-old girl could be. Dion winced. Nona had always said, ever since the day Mirtala had been born, that she had ‘a good pair of lungs’. Dion thought that was a nice way of saying that she was loud. She’d been a loud baby, and now she was a loud little girl, who didn’t seem to have realised that she didn’t need to yell all the time. Especially when the person she was trying to talk to was only a few feet away through an open window. He sighed, fixing his own grim expression resolutely in the mirror. “What is it?” Mirtala’s bells jingled, and in his peripheral vision he could see her stretch up to put her little hands on the edge of the dressing-room windowsill. "I have a question," she announced. "Can it wait?" "No! It's important!" "I'm kinda busy here, Tala–" "But it's the importantest!" This was not a battle he was going to win. Dion put down the pot of pomade, and turned to where Mirtala's huge blue eyes were peering up at him through the open window. "Fine," he said. "What do you want?" Mirtala, with some ceremony, tucked her hands behind her back and tipped her head. "Are crabs fishes?"

i've been off work this week, so finished up this long-neglected wip! a couple years before the events of the games, Dion takes Mirtala and Raz to an aquarium.

[ihamtmus]

aghh i have acute tracheitis wow am i glad i went to see the doctor after all

[moonfromearth]

200 Followers Celebratory CC Free Sim Dump!!

It's honestly so amazing to me that somehow I made it to 200 followers! You're all so sweet and I appreciate everyone that's taken the time to interact with my posts and I promise I have new stuff in the works that'll be released soon 😉

So, I did this poll to see what everyone would want and it was so fun to hear from so many people thank you everyone who voted! Sim dump was the clear winner!!

Anyway, included are eight cc free young adult sims! They all have set skills and careers because I think it's fun but you can do whatever you want with them as long as you don't change skintones (bonus information about each below the cut as a "guide" because I like coming up with their characters)! I also had too much fun picking out likes and dislikes so... There are a lot 😬

P.S. If in the library it shows up as having cc I swear there isn't any I don't know why my game likes to mark it as having cc even when there isn't I'm sorry for any confusion.

Feel free to tag me if you ever use them and I hope you enjoy!! 😁😁

Download Link [Google Drive]

[Sim info below cut!!]

Parker Daley - Friend of the World, Erratic, Creative, Vegetarian - Bubbly and eccentric Parker is the life of any party! A fashion designer who loves anything "stylish" (which is just anything she likes, pretty much). Parker is completely unpredictable which makes her an interesting companion. A city girl all the way.

Lilah Dumas - Computer Whiz, Cheerful, Geek, Lazy Lilah is a very "you only live once" kind of person. She doesn't spend too much time dwelling on just about anything, and will drop whatever doesn't bring her joy in a heartbeat. As such she was determined to make one of her hobbies into a career, and amassed a decent following for herself as a streamer.

Raj Pandey - Fabulously Wealthy, Perfectionist, Mean, Self-Assured Raj grew up always knowing he'd join the family business, and the atmosphere of wealth and status, as well as the most expensive education obtainable, has turned him into a stuck up character. He appreciates a well crafted insult. In fact, he's not averse to the occasional argument debate (as long as he wins). Despite these traits he's managed to get himself adopted into a group of friends who, though often annoy him, have become an important part of his life.

Sonny Oswald - Friend of the Animals, Socially Awkward, Animal Enthusiast, Neat Sonny is a sweetheart and I love him. Awkward and shy, he's more comfortable around farm animals and plants than he is around people. Only is closest friends get to see how kind and fun he can be. One day he'll move out to the countryside and start is own farm, but for now he's working his way through the gardening career (baby steps, right?).

Lucas Esparza - Nerd Brain, Noncommittal, Bookworm, Adventurous Lucas's two goals in life are to gain infinite amounts of knowledge for himself and leave a trail of broken hearts as he travels the world to get said knowledge. That makes it sound like he's a horrible person which is because... Well he is, but who doesn't need a villain in their game? I'm sure he has his good qualities, however, I honestly love him for being the absolute handful he is.

Keira McDaniel - Painter Extraordinaire, Gloomy, Maker, Music Lover A bit of a "tortured artist" character who enjoys spending hours painting/crafting in her studio with music playing constantly, blocking out the rest of the world. Keira is very sensitive, and feels the emotional weight of everything around her very intensely, channeling it into her art.

Joslyn Lancaster - Country Caretaker, Loves the Outdoors, Athletic, Glutton Joslyn is a very meat and potatoes kind of gal. She lives for the simple things in life, working the ranch, riding horses, and a good meal. It's never occurred to her that there might be more to life, and the world, outside of the ranch, because what more could she need?

Gabrielle "Gabby" Moran - Leader of the Pack, Insider, Snob, Cat Lover Gabby is a fine and polished young woman, growing up in a life of luxury, and the champion English rider in town. She's very aware that she is the best at something, and it's boosted her confidence (*cough* ego) to astronomic levels. Quite the gossip, she loves to be out with friends, gossiping about the latest scandal, but when not there she's tending to her horse and preparing for her next competition. Despite the facade of the popular mean girl she puts up, Gabby cares very deeply about horses and her career, and takes it very seriously. She also loves spending time with the barn cats when they're around.

[clochanamarc]

this is a placeholder for a little post i like to call "giving people superpowers does not naturally mean they're OP and in fact making characters OP is a lot more difficult than people realize" but i wanna write smth ic first okay? okay <3

[thebewilderer]

HOLY FUCK

so my qualifying exam was due at 11:59 pm with an "ABSOLUTELY NO EXCEPTIONS" type of attitude and at 11:53 i wrote my validation section in about forty five sections and at 11:56 i wrote the worst introduction i've ever written in my life in about fifteen seconds total and at 11:58 i was about to hit submit and realized i'd left off a whole code file and had to go back into "add a file" and look for the missing file and thank fuck i name all my code files by what version they are and then the file name because it only took me a minute to find it and it was a WHOLE MINUTE and then i smashed the submit button and gave myself a fucking heart attack at EXACLTY eleven fifty nine oclock and SECONDS after that it turned twelve and i think that took ten years off my life span

[bobmckenzie]

ok i don't know WHAT kind of brain fart I had but I've been thinking today marks 6 months since I started shipping with Bob... IT'S NOT SIX DLSKJFKSF IT'S EIGHT 😳😳😳 8 MONTHS!!!

so today i learned i don't know how to count but idec bc it's my 8 month bobiversarry lol ❤️

[torgawl]

i finished the book...

[mieczyhale]

one of the guys that runs a reaction channel i've been watching for ages just announced that they're ending the channel next year bc he got a job offer and he's getting married and he's thinking about his family and his future and like...

my son in christ you are 21

i literally want to fucking die

[guidingsbolt]

almost definitely will have more thoughts tomorrow but man. will DID it. she's FREE and maybe even HAPPY but it doesn't really matter because she isn't chained down anymore, metaphorically OR literally!!!!

[moinsbienquekaworu]

After about four hours, I have a lot of japanese chicken curry, seen the latest OSP detail diatribe, made a fair amount of dishes, and my back hurts (ouchie). And it's just 11pm! How very productive of me.

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Behind Closed Doors

Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words

A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough

You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.

"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.

"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”

"Not for another hour."

"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."

“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."

This caught your attention. "What test?"

She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."

"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"

"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."

"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"

Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."

You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.

You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?

Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.

You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.

Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.

Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 

Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.

A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.

"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.

"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.

"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."

You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.

"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"

"I need to reschedule."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"

"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."

"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."

A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 

With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.

"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

You cocked your head to the side.

What were you doing here? 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."

His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"

"So you've heard.”

"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."

"If they let me back on the team."

"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."

He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."

He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.

"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"

You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."

"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."

Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"

"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”

Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.

"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.

"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"

"I never said that.”

Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”

You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.

It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.

You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.

"Y/N?"

Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 

The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.

With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."

But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.

Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.

Your face grew hotter at the thought.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.

"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."

He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"

"I... uh..."

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."

Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.

It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.

But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.

"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"

"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."

With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.

You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.

He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 

With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 

Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.

"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.

“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."

He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.

"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 

"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."

"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."

You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."

“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”

“Me? What about—oh.”

His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”

You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”

“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”

You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”

You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”

“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”

You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.

“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”

“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.

“Lift your hips for me.”

You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.

“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”

Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.

He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.

“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”

Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.

“I… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.

“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”

Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.

“Do you often touch yourself?”

Your head fell back as he started to move.

“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.

"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.

“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.

“Have you ever thought of me?”

Whoa.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.

This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?

A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.

"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”

What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Uh… This is slightly better.”

“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”

Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”

The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"

Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”

With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."

Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."

He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.

You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.

This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.

You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.

"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.

"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.

"Don't answer it."

"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"

Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”

Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”

"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”

You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 

“…he's also been stalking younger women."

Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.

“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”

You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"

"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."

Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.

“Are you with someone?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”

There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.

“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.

“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”

She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.

“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.

"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.

"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”

Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—

“Y/N!”

“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”

You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.

"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"

You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.

It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”

“Good intense?”

“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.

“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.

Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”

“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”

Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."

Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.

Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 

He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…