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#tho they are the ones that really need to let go
nereidprinc3ss · 1 day
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
Note
Paige nsfw hcs pls
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! read at your own discretion!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | the long awaited nsfw headcanons for paigey, i finally got the motivation to write it after i kept reading the INSANE smut yall keep writing (keep it up im lovin it) also this is such a mess, this is just rambling and not organized whatsoever, but wtv i hope yall enjoyed :)
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woo, where do i even begin?
let's begin with the obvious, paige is a TOP, i can't stress this enough
i genuinely can't see anyone topping her she's just .... a TOP
but that doesn't mean she won't let you take the reigns every once in awhile, esp after a bad game/tiring practice because everyone once to be taken care of sometimes
i'm def not the first person to say this and certainly will not be the last but STRAP GAME GOES SOOOOO HARD
i feel like at first she's gonna be weirded out cus like... she likes only girls for a reason??? and she has her mouth and fingers??? why would she need a piece of plastic to make her girl feel good???
but the first time y'all try it, she's hooked
she forgets ab her hands after that
jk but like
yeah she's HOOKED
she gets really into it LOL, def can imagine her calling the strap her dick
oh and she fucks HARDDDD like, no room to breathe or anything
like you'll be gasping for air after and she'll be super duper proud
i read this one fic with like the dual ended one (i didn't even know that existed) and then i was like yep, yes this is the oneee
with positions, i can't see her doing anything more than like missionary (cus she loves to see your pretty face) and like from the back
but as soon as she discovers riding, it's OVERRRRR for you
she's making you ride her strap anytime she can, cus she loves it
she has her hands on your hips as she's guiding you and she LOVES IT so fucking much, like the power she has over you makes her go feral
oh and do not get me started on sucking her strap, cus again she loves the power she holds over you
she has your hair in a ponytail and the more you get comfortable with the whole thing, she WILL make you gag
she acts like it's her dick (yeah i know we covered that) but like esp when you're sucking her strap, she will just dirty talk u the entire time
"you like my dick, pretty girl? like gagging on my dick?" cus yeah, u do
oh and yes, she does have breeding kink
it breaks her heart that she can't get you pregnant 😪
but she sure as hell will pretend to!!!!!
will 100% bend you over and just yap about getting you pregnant
also if she's fucking you in missionary, she expects you to look at her the entire time
so if you turn away, she will grab your face and keep you looking straight at her
FUCK IDK WHY THAT'S SO HOT
paige is a D1 yapper i fear, and that would 10000% seep into the bedroom LMAO
mostly praise cus babygirl would feel really bad but when she gets into, she GETS into it
like she will call you her slut as she's about cum
that post-nut clarity goes hard the first time tho cus she's like no way i called my gf a dirty fucking slut 😭😭 she sits with her thoughts for a good 10 minutes trying to recollect herself
she is a munch for sure, like she will eat you out for hours and hours on end (not an exaggeration btw)
but she LOVES when you give back
it makes her go fucking feral when she sees you eating her out, like yessssssssssssss
she has to close her eyes bc if she keeps looking at your face, she WILL cum
she has a bad hair pulling problem, like she will grip your hair so hard your head will hurt after
it's apart of the appeal tho 🎀
her fav spot to get absolutely ate is her gaming chair cus like, she needs you in between her legs giving her support to get that victory royale 💯💯💯
she hates when she gets ass or tits bc she genuinely cannot pick
it depends on the day bc they're both great, she will never pick one
i feel like she's definitely thought ab fucking you in public but she can't risk it
SHES A D1 ATHLETE !!
the only time yall did was in a bathroom at an event and it was SOOO bad afterwards cus everyone could tell
you had to pretend like you didn't get your brains fucked out and paige had to pretend she didn't DO the fucking
but lowkey she enjoyed it a lot, but would she do it again?
maybe, a solid maybe (with the right motivation)
okay but like ....
she def has fingered u while the girls are over cus like, she was in a silly mood?
you just looked too fucking good, she had to
but thank god no one noticed (at least to yalls knowledge...)
she's a horny fuck ARGUE WITH THE WALL
she will get turned on by anything you do, like homegirl is just sooooo down bad for you
you could be applying chapstick and paige will be like "we need to fuck, now."
paige's aftercare is just giving you water and cuddling with you for 10 mis while scrolling on tiktok and then gets up to play fortnite with kk
she literally is the tiktok where it's like "after he rearranges my organs he goes and plays fortnite" i hope yall know what i'm talking about
but you don't mind ofc cus she makes you sit on her lap while playing
but then turns into another round cus shes a horny fuck
paige is all for hickies on YOU but she gets pissed when you give her a hickey cus she's like people are gonna see
like she's the only one who has to deal with the public 🙄🙄🙄
but she loves marking you EVERYWHERE, esp on your collarbone like it's so sexy
oh and god bless you in the summer, the ones on your thighs are getting AIRED OUT bc paige does not care
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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canmargesimpson · 2 days
Text
Spring Cleaning
I believe that Steve's mom was a bit of a control freak. I mean, she went on business trips with her own husband to make sure she wasn't cheating on him. so she clearly likes to have her own rules in her house. 
i mean she went on a trip with her husband to make sure he didn't do anything sus. So I feel like she would also be this clean freak, every spring, she would tell Steve to clean his entire bedroom and get rid of the things she didn't need. After a while, this became a bit of a habit for Steve, so, when spring arrived and the sun started shining once again, he would clean his entire room and re-organize everything.
Later, when he is about to move in with Eddie, he realizes his room is a complete disaster. So he went full on mom mode. He summoned the entire party, put on an apron that said “Mom’s kitchen!” and bought a bunch of cleaning products (most of them he knew for cleaning after a party). At first Eddie thought Steve was messing with him, but when he showed up with the kids and the offer for them to clean his room, he was left with no choice but to say yes. And so they got to work.
First they took off all of the posters, in which Eddie was very whiny about, saying that if they broke them or even wrinkle them, he was going to sue. Then went to the closet, in which Steve, Robin and Nancy took care of. Lucas took the records and boxes of music outside to organize them next to Max, who was just sunbathing. Will, Dustin and Erica took care of the books that were everywhere. Like… Everywhere. 
“Why would you leave a book in the oven?” Dustin exclaimed as he took the collection of Sunglasses After Dark books
“Cuz i had no place to leave them” he shrugged as he turned around and kept trying to keep calm at everyone touching his stuff
Mike and Eleven were in charge of collecting the plates, empty beer cans, and food which were laying around. Finally, Argyle and Jonathan were in charge of organizing what was for donations, trash, and to keep. BUT, Argyle was lucky enough to find some edibles and weed treats and they both ended up high as hell on the couch watching looney toons. They weren’t much help at the end of the day, but at least they didn’t stand in everyone’s way. After organizing the clothes from the category, they sat and tried to see which ones were appropriate to keep, which were clean, and which were… actually clothes.
“Oh I missed this shirt!” Eddie took it from robin and raised it to see the cover of a weird ass band album cover.
“Mama’s boy? Really?” steve raised a eyebrow at his boyfriend
“Hell yeah! in 1985, they opened for Joan Jett and The Blackhearts, it was a hell of a night. I got the cassette too! Hold on” he ran outside to find lucas and max laughing
“Red, Lucas, Mama’s Boy, Power and Passion” 
“Let me- god where did I leave the M…”
“Third box, right after Malice” Max said nonchalantly, leaving both boys astounded and she just smiles “just because im blind doesn't mean i can’t see anything” 
Lucas took the cassette and handed it to eddie who was quickly inside and went to the trailer and placed the cassette in the player and connected it with the speakers, and pressed play, and the music started ( lol this is the link of the album, since its not in spotify, it should tho, their music is great tho)
“Wait…” Robin called as everyone turned to her “Why do you have like… four of their shirts?”
“Well…” eddie bit his lip and looked away trying to come up with an excuse… but at this point, he had no option but to tell the truth “I MAY have… slept with the drummer, and i might have stolen them”
“You what now?” steve smiled a little confused
“It was like, 3 years ago Stevie, don’t worry, he probably doesn't remember.” he reassured
“You slept with a drummer from a famous band?”
“Well i have fucked more famoust people, Tommy McManus is a particle compered to what i have gone through” he shows off but when he turns to his boyfriend with an un amused face
“Who then?
Eddie started laughing nervously, looking around for help, but robin and nancy were trying not to laugh while Dustin and Erica were clearly enjoying this.
“Joey Tempest… from Europe…”
“You fucked a Eurpoean?”
“ i mean, he is from sweden, and his in the band called Europe, but yeah”
“Do they sing a song we may know?”
Eddie’s cheek turned bright red as Steve looked at him with such an intimidating stare, it was too pretty for Eddie to say no to.
“You know… It the final countdown, tanana, tananana, tanana, tanananananana aaa” eddie sang in a low voice, pretty embarrassed of the situation he’s in
“Oh my god” Steve rolled his eyes and groaned
“You slept with carol perkins while she was dating tommy!” 
“Don’t you dare play the carol card on me right now!”
After a long discussion over each other's sex lives, they got back to cleaning and organizing, till the sun was setting.  They all ended up on the couch, in front of the tv, discussing which movie to watch. Their options were Howard the Duck, Mary Poppins, and Lawrence of Arabia, in which they chose Mary poppins. Steve ordered a pizza for everyone, and when Wayne came back, he could help but to join the kids watching the childish movie. They eat everylast pizza piece, and they all fall asleep on the couch munched together, and it was too cute not to take a picture, so wayne grabbed Eddie’s polaroid, snapped them a picture, which ended up the first frame that was hanged in the Munson - Harrington flat.
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holly-opal · 2 days
Note
Prompt: Some random kid (Reader) finds Mr Puzzles' head and repairs it, pretty much causing him to become their adoptive dad (since their og dad left)
(This is platonic, of course)
You pulled the red wagon carrying the broken TV to your little cabin. It was just a regular day for you, walking around seeing if you can find something useful like food, tools, some baby wipes for showering, and maybe even some lost toys or technology that could use some fixing. Looks like today day is your lucky day. Just kidding, that day will be when you actually get parents. Since your real ones abandoned you and left you to die in the slums. You carried the TV to the table and let out a hefty sigh. Goddamn that TV was heavy. You examined the TV carefully, it looks like there are no internal damages, only the screen needs fixing. Thankfully, you had just the fix! With a little bit of glass and super glue, you can fix it. You carefully put the shards of glass in, put in a nice dash of glue, and- "OUCH!" You yelled out as you felt harsh stinging in your palm. You cut yourself. Tears weld up in your eyes as you went to get the bandages, you quickly put one on you and went back to work. And you were done! Sure you got a few cuts and put a little too much super glue, but at least it works! You picked up the TV and put it down onto the floor, you sat down and started flipping through the channels. You found a nice kids channel and began watching it. You were smiling and laughing all the way, it made you forget how miserable you were, living scrap by scrap, going to bed hungry every night, anf always worrying someone will try to steal your things or hurt you.
As you were watching tho, the TV suddenly turned into static, you groaned and tried to hit the TV to get it to work. It didn't really work. You almost got up to fetch your tools, but then you heard... Crunching noises. Squishy, gooey, crunching noises. You looked at the TV and saw that it was sprouting arms, legs, a torso, an entire body. It was tall as hell, taller than any adult you have seen. The TV stopped playing static and was replaced with a face, a wide colorful smile and crazy eyes. You screamed and ran out of the room. You went into the small bedroom and went into your cot, you hid under your blanket and hugged your teddy bear tightly. You were shaking and whimpering, you shut your eyes, hoping that it won't see you and will go away. Suddenly, you were picked up by someone and you screamed, you kicked and wiggled, but it was no use. The TV man was looking at you, his eye brow raised.
"Now now, is that any way to treat your guest? Running and screaming?" He asked you. You gulped and shook your head, he laughed and set you down onto the ground. You backed away from him in fear. The TV man put his hands on his hips and looked around. "Where is the engineer that fixed me? I want to thank them!" He asked. You called down a bit, maybe if you tell him that you were the one who fixed him, he'll be grateful and not eat you alive. You pointed at yourself. "U-Um... I fixed you actually..." You said timidly. He frowned, he cocked his head at you in confusion, you internally prayed you didn't make him mad. He scoffed and walked out of your room, you followed him out. He was looking around the cabin, it was very small, and it didn't have many things in it. He seemed disgusted at the sight of your house. "Where are your parents? There is no way a child could fix a TV by themselves. And this place is awful! This is no place for a little kid!" He asked. You rubbed your arm in silence, looked away from him, remembering how your parents left you in the dumpster when you were only three years old. You had someone to take care of you, but they left you too. Nobody seemed to like being around you. They always seemed to leave you behind like a discarded doll. Something clicked in him, and he understood everything. You were an orphan.
"I.... I see..." He said with a sad tone. You went up to him and hugged his legs, you didn't mean to make him sad. He patted your head and smiled, and crouched down to your level and gave you a big, wide smile. "My name is Mr. Puzzles. And you, my dear?" He asked. You smiled back, you shrugged. That seemed to strike a nerve with Mr. Puzzles. They didn't even bother to name you? He pinched your cheek in a loving manner and picked you up, he cradled you in his long ass arms. "Well you simply must have a name! Hmmm... Which name, which name... Oh! How about Y/N?" He asked you. You nodded your head and clapped in excitement, you always wanted a name, but you could never think of one. He laughed and spun you around in a circle. He put your down and crossed his arms. "You could come with me to my studio! You wouldn't have to live here much longer, because no offense, but this place is very dirty and broken." He said. You nodded in agreement. The house was very bad. You only stayed because it gave you shelter from the rain. You grabbed your bag and started putting your stuff in it. Your tools, teddy bear, clothes, trinkets you made, etc. Once you were done packing, he picked you up and put you on his shoulders. You giggled and held his head for stability. You got a new home! And a new parental figure! This really IS your lucky day!
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vsaintsin · 2 days
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Writeblr Re-Intro
Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah
I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA
About me -
He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").
I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.
I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.
I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).
My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.
My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.
This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.
In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.
My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.
What I'm lookin' for -
Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.
A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.
I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.
Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.
What I write -
Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.
High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?
Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).
Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.
Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.
Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.
I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!
THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future
Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?
TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use
THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due July '24, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right
(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.
TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death
I don't know what else to say... Later!
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dunmeshistash · 2 hours
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How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!
Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post
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This is the first time she shows up in the manga, c h55, Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would be an issue of them being criminals, it does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)
The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback
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She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's little injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the firs time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"
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It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay were its safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help
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Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril straight up flips a switch into battle mode tho, when she decides to train him for real.
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I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. The phrase "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon, if he couldn't take the training with her he wouldn't be able to take the dungeon, but he was, so much so that he managed to go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.
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The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it.
And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back and I think its rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroing exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admiting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.
After that visuals of milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.
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Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon
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She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life, this could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was mercy, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.
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Now for extras... For Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible
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Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she has a grudge against people that succeeded where she failed. Realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act as mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her
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It also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.
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There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she want's to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.
My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries often. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less for sending her to join the canaries).
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No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she's "superior" to them when there's no indication that this is the case.
And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from it, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...
This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...
I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.
Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.
Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.
I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.
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rainbowonice · 18 hours
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I'm barely hanging by a thread with this show.
The amount of PR that Oliver has done about Bucks storyline and Buddie has been overkill. To the point, where of Buddie doesn't happen after talking about it so much that headlines and clickbait have been created, they're going to look like they've just been shipbaiting to pull in the viewers!
Tommy and the homophobe/transphobe need to go. Lou's weird "thriving" video gives me the impression they're deffo not thriving! And the other one needs to go for obvious fucking reasons!
The whole Bi storyline would've been better coming from Eddie. They could've had Buck single and Eddie discovering himself like it was originally going to be. It would've been so much more interesting to watch!
But I do think the fact that the season only has 10 episodes has put a damper on things, too!
oh i agree with everything!!! it's definitely giving shipbait (for now) i feel like Oliver is saying unhinged Buddie stuff because, in his prospective, they can't really call him out for queerbaiting anymore, since Buck is canon bi now. But I really hope I'm wrong and that he actually knows that Buddie is endgame or something!
I'm still conflicted about Lou video to be honest, I'd rather if he wasn't there at all lmao but if he's there just to make things awkward and they are really NOT thriving then i Could be ok with it. for the Edy situation... idk how she even got in s7 to begin with, i know it's because Natalia actress wasn't available and Tim didn't want both of them to start off as single but they could have just went with a replacement and no one would have noticed 💀 big hope is that she will be bones before the season finale tho! No one likes her and the foreshadowing about them breaking up has been crazy (never date someone you met on a call, bobby convo etc)
Anon you have no idea I've been terrorizing my bestie about EddieTommy for WEEKS i still wouldn't like Tommy as a character but it would have made so much more sense and it would have been way more groundbreaking than BuckTommy! if episode 100 have zero haters I'm dead I REALLY HATE the whole execution and how they switched characters and keep making Buck and Eddie interchangeable cuz that will never be right and it will never sit well with me for various reasons (racism is the racism). And I've been wanting Buck to be single for the longest time let the man be alone and get to know himself for the love of God!
This season worst problem is that they are writing it as they go and they are really rushing things and you can really tell that they have no idea where the plot is going and the season being only 10 episodes make it so much worse :( hope season 8 will save us from this hell but if the last 5 episodes of the season don't get any better idk if i will survive to watch season 8 they are really making it hard for me and I've been watching the show since 2019!
Also i want to thank you for sending me your thoughts! I got so excited when i saw an ask in my inbox 🥰 this is a safe space for hating! I'm a yapper and a hater!!
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bigfatbimbo · 6 hours
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I heard ✨fluffy Vox thoughts✨ and I’m here to deliver
Okay so we all know cuddling Vox is difficult sometimes with his big ass head. Difficult but not impossible because this man loves to hold you.
Makes him feel manly (even tho we’ve established he’s a needy bitch boy but let the man have his moment) that he’s the one holding and protecting you from whatever reason has you clinging to him
So whenever he gets the chance, especially when he sees you’ve been having harder time lately, he gets this kind a smug look on his face as he and opens his arms for you, because yay now he gets to hold you and make you feel like the small vulnerable one for once
(Doms deserve to be babied too!!)
He does baby talk you, mostly to tease because he’s stroking his ego a bit because he’s feeling like the caretaker/provider/whatever
Up to you either you make him swallow his words later 👀
~~~~~~~~~
Vox was working mindlessly in his monitor room, honestly growing bored and irritated with the days work load that seemed never endingly tedious. However, his concentration is broken when he hears the elevator dinging open behind him, to which he sighs in annoyance.
“I’m busy, so whoever it is, go away.” Vox was quick to dismiss without even looking over his shoulder.
At that you immediately roll your eyes. Dealing with your boyfriend’s bs after the week you’ve been having is not what you came down here for.
“Vox.” You say, your tone low with a warning that he already knew. Watch your attitude.
He tenses for a second, after realizing it was you and he turns to look over his shoulder. He plasters on that tv host grin of his as he turns his chair to you fully, deciding to use you as an excuse to take a break for his mind numbing work for five minutes.
“Oh my apologies my dear, I didn’t realize it was you. Heh you know how things are. Busy busy busy.” He feigns for an excuse.
You simply rolls your eyes as you approach him, your exhaustion and stress showing on your face, “Yeah tell me about it.”
He arches a brow at you. Weird. He was have expecting you to tell him to fix his attitude or you’d fix it for him, or something if that nature. But your whole energy was off. And the closer you got to him, the more he noticed the crease in your brow and the tires look in your eyes. Aw shit…he knew that look.
He sighs wearily and that tv persona drops for a moment, as he sits himself up in his chair and gestures for you to sit in his lap.
“C’mon. You can hide out in here.” He says as if he was doing you a favor but in reality he just knew better. You got the same way he did when you needed a recharge from a hellish week. Cuddly.
A small smile pulls on your lips and you don’t hesitate to get in his lap, tucking your head under his screen and resting agaisnt his body.
Vox looks down at you for a moment as he runs his chair back to his monitors and as his eyes linger in your face for a moment, watching you melt into him, he couldn’t help but smile a little more genuinely. (And he definitely took a screenshot)
“Hmp..just don’t move around okay? I still have to work.” He chuffs out, only to have you smirk a little agaisnt his chest.
“Mm last I checked you were the squirmy one between the two of us Vox. Or so I need to remind you later.”
You could hear his fans kick on a little harder as he grumbles under his breath, “…fuck you.”
“Later.” You chuckled, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m resting.”
awwwwwwsshshsh this is really cute!! 😭🫶 you spoil me oh my god the little drabble at the end was adorable. This was very in character too because it would definitely be a manliness thing, lowkey. But the baby talk is actually cute, I don’t even care. Like that’s so silly and he so would, like I cannot get over that idea it’s so cute. You’re a very good writer by the way, you should consider making fics. Anyways, thanks babes this absolutely cheered me up oh my god!
Side note “(Doms deserve to be babied too!!)” Very important information, no one forget this!! ☝️🤨
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justaz · 15 hours
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arthur has always been suspicious of the tavern excuse for merlin’s absences, but he has no proof on the contrary and when confronted merlin either tells him outlandish tales of near death experiences that have no chance of being remotely truthful or he admits to and apologizes for slacking on his duties to get drunk. one day, he decides enough is enough and he and all the knights go to the tavern with merlin and arthur casually brings up merlin’s history in the tavern and says he could probably beat gwaine in a drinking contest. merlin tries to divert the discussion away from the idea but arthur is determined. they receive a round of drinks and arthur pushes a pint of ale into merlin’s hands with a look of challenge. merlin’s options are to either commit to the lie to hide his secret or admit to the lie and risk exposing his magic. he takes the former. merlin gives lancelot a Look and then slams back the pint of ale with a minor bit of gagging and pauses to breath. gwaine already finished his pint thirty seconds ago but its entertaining to watch merlin so he doesn’t say anything.
merlin (built like a twig, rarely drinks, lightweight) is proper sloshed. arthur is almost vindicated but he needs merlin to admit it. he orders two more pints and gives one to gwaine and the second to merlin, instigating the competition further despite the fact that gwaine won already. merlin grimaces and tries to do the same thing again but only gets a few gulps in before he folds. he slams the mug down and gives arthur a kicked puppy look before admitting and apologizing for lying. arthur is Vindicated. merlin is still wasted.
the nights wears on and merlin feels the effect of the ale more and more every minute that passes. he sits between arthur and lancelot and feels almost unbearably warm but that could be bc of the alcohol in his system, or the crowded tavern. merlin looks around and watches the people that pass their table by while the knights talk and joke and laugh amongst themselves. merlin feels relaxed and excitable now, his worries seem to have melted away and he cant seem to remember why he was always so stressed and worn down before. he sees a game of [insert game here] (i was gonna say darts but google says that game hasn’t been invented in canon time so ill leave it up to interpretation) going on and climbs over lancelot to join in.
the knights watch with amusement and anticipate merlin’s clumsy attempts at [whatever]. oddly enough tho, merlin is a fucking god at [game]. a small crowd gathers and betting pools form and then challengers approach and put money on the line to go against merlin and merlin absolutely demolishes them all. honestly if arthur didn’t know any better, he’d think merlin was using magic to win bc there was no way his bumbling fool of a servant was that good at…anything.
the challengers take their defeat with honor and grace. the audience is a huge fan of merlin and they keep buying him drinks but he just sends them to the table for the other’s to drink. many people come up to him and flirt, maybe motivated by all the money he won that night or maybe just bc he’s merlin, and when merlin responds to them he’s………..he’s a real good fucking flirt? like could put gwaine to shame and he’s rejecting them???? how can someone come across so flirtatiously while turning down offers to take various beautiful people to bed??
arthur was already itching to intervene when people were flirting with merlin but he seemed to have a handle on it so he let it slide, but then people started touching merlin and arthur’s hand had drifted to his hip where his sword was usually sheathed. however, again, merlin was very skilled at escaping the situations with little to no conflict and he came back to the table with his winnings. the knights cheer for him and order more drinks with his money which merlin is too inebriated to notice and truthfully doesn’t really care about. his eyes are on arthur and if arthur thought watching merlin flirt from afar was bad then having him up close in his personal space, hands brushing against his arms and dark eyelashes fluttering softly against his pale skin, breathing his name into the space between them and licking his full pink lips was absolute torture and the worst and best agony he couldn’t even dream up.
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gabisbabbies · 1 day
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from ask on gay-poet-gabriel blog
Johnny (little boy)
Love love loves to imitate his cg, especially dally
When dallys (failing at) cooking, johnnys playing with little fisher price plastic food
When darry or pony is cleaning, johnny is playing with his little broom or washing his plastic dishes
Loves schedules and having plan😪s
Darry is good at keeping structure for him
A bit scared of kids and other people so he doesn’t like to go to the park, especially the one he killed bob at
Loves to be read to! Especially by Pony!
Wheelchair user!
Absolutely a stuffy kid
Loves to chew on his stuffy (a small rabbit plush that’s not dirty, just stained)
Cleaner than other littles (two-bit)
Goes non-verbal often, babbling
Ponyboy (flip, regressor-leaning)
Also a stuffy kid!
Has a palomino horse plush Soda gave him named Star
Loves to color, is very precise with his hands
Also goes pretty non-verbal, completely mute
Loves to write and read little stories! They are very cute and he likes to give them to Two-Bit, he keeps them and treasures them
Begs and begs everyone in the gang to buy him a pet!
Favorite little food is grilled cheese
Pretty clean, but likes to play in puddles
As a caregiver, he’d love to take care of Johnny and read him stories (and write him stories too!)
Darry (daddy fr)
Loves to explain things!
Sometimes gets a bit frustrated though so he needs to learn to cool down occasionally
Helps with homework (already canon lol) also likes to help little pony spell things for his books!
Doesn’t like movies but he is perfectly content with laying Pony and Johnny on his belly as he sleeps and they watch a kids’ movie.
Loves to cook for his littles! (and everyone else too haha)
Sometimes even makes his chocolate cake really sweet just for Sodapop
Sets up any toys that need assembly (i.e. plastic cooking station, baby easel)
Soooooo happy that pony regresses
Bought pony like 20 pacifiers because “Anything is better than those cancer sticks” (he’s got the spirit!)
Soda (Flip, right in between daddy and middle)
Horses
So many horses
Steve made him a wooden rocking horse one time and he loves it
Would love my little pony (rip)
Loves to play with cars and pretend to change the oil on them with little tools!
Loves to watch Steve work on cars and pretends to help him with plastic wrenches etc
HUUUGE sweet tooth
Chocolate, ice cream with sprinkles, waffles with tons of syrup and butter, honey straight from the jar
Darry and Steve can’t stop him
Loves to cuddle!
Will latch on and never let his cg go
Enjoys sensory play
Sand, mud, leaves, feeling blankets
Blankie kid!
Has the grossest, wettest, most slobbered-on blanket in history
Can get out of any trouble ever
Dally (daddy)
Will only take care of Johnny and Pony
Usually only considers taking care of Pony when Johnny’s there tho (cuz he doesnt have a soft spot for him [we all know the truth])
When he and Johnny are home alone, he really does try his best to cook and make sure Johnny gets 3 meals in
EXTREMELY protective
Likes to surprise them with ice cream and little candies he steals from 5 and dime stores
Totally would push Johnny in his wheelchair around town if it wasn’t so dangerous for them
Likes to take them to watch ducks and just hang out
Can be pretty quiet and get a bit angry but still reassuring
Loves to watch movies with them both!
Will only start to cuddle Johnny at the start of the movie, and then Ponyboy will whine and then he feels bad and gives in (because he loves Pony don’t lie)
Two-Bit (Flip: like i would call it daddy but its more like…cool uncle? And middle!)
Really fun to hang out with!!
Babysits Soda, Pony, Johnny, or all three at once!
Everyone loves him!
Able to distract them when they have a cut or something and need Darry to put some alcohol on it
Makes funny faces and steals coloring books and sticker sheets for them (which really annoys Darry because he keeps finding stickers everywhere)
Loves Pony and encourages him to write his stories
Helps Pony come up with really silly things to write and draw
Loves to tell fun stories to all the littles!
As a middle: loves to eat
Loves to eat so much
Especially cheesy things
Messiest little you will ever see
Loves to play pranks
Watches Youtube prank channels unironically and tries them out
Can get out of any trouble just like Soda
Lets the little ones trace animals and shapes in his freckles
Steals the littles so many gifts. SOOOO MANY
Perfectly happy to watch Mickey Mouse with them all day
Steve (daddy, but only Soda’s)
Loves to build things for Soda
Can weld!
Horrible cook
Burns chicken nuggets (but Soda wolfs em down anyway)
Playfully wrestles and roughhouse with Soda (but lets his little boy win)
Makes forts with Sodapop and likes to play hide n seek with him!
Pretty childish too but also can be pretty mean
Has made Soda cry on several occasions and everyone hates him for it (SORRY STEVE PART 3)
Saves Sodapop from Two-Bit’s pranks
Loves to play with cars with Soda
Loves to drive Soda around in his car 
Likes to nap with Soda
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ididgettomeetyou · 1 year
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i want to give my 2 scents on that infamous shipping video bryke put out in i think it was what 2008/2012??? im unsure.. anyway my thoughts are this... One it was def immature/ not great to use kids artwork to demean them.. As a lazy artist taking peoples art to insult them really bugs me.. its why i hate when people here grab zutara art and bash it.. artists put their heart int their works. talking about it in ims is one thing but posting it/bashing it is just meanspirited.
what im saying is i totally can understand why people were upset with that video..
personally as an azulaang crackshipper i thought that part was kinda funny.. but i enjoy weird darkships. and as mutliszutara shipper i obv dont think people shipping it are dooomed. while i find it a bit amusing it was def meanspirted/uncalled for.. beause at the end of the day they are adults and you dont bully children over ships. its why im mad at grey for bullying kids some years ago/ and being very weird to em in general.. im happy her adult va is gonna be different.. im hoping one day daph will too.
BUT anyway its been what 14 years now? i see no point in still being bitter over that video after 14 years.. i see zero reason to be bitter over a ship for that long.. doesn't seem healthy its more fun to just enjoy your ship and not act like the creators robbed your house and stole everything you love. this fandoms attachement to being robbed/ is riduclous.. the creators didnt owe me zutara at 2008 back when i shipped it its their show.. they can have whatever ship they want. I wanted danny/valerie i got danny/sam.. it sucked but it wasnt the end of the world.. plus Butch acutally sucks as a person..
i think its just time to let the bryke hate die cause .. its been like 14 years. and without em the show wouldn't even exist. there be no zuko/no katara... there be nothing.. ive never see a fandom hate a creator so much its just insane to me.
esp with a bazillion other writers involved. who shockling wrote for kataang/maiko. . zutara was a fun crackship but thats all it was man.. a crackship no one was robbed.
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lunarharp · 9 months
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if i just told you i love you would this world change
#witch hat tag#orufrey#these kinda suck lol i feel like i cant draw right now *irritated sigh* BUT I FEEL EMOTIONS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#if you are gay go watch good omens season 2 right now. NO YOU DONT KNOW THO!!!!!!!!!#i know being this affected by good omens is probably cringe. I dont care any more. the last 1 minute of good omens season 2 was#some of the most affecting acting i've ever seen in my life. sometimes someone acts with the force as if their entire career led to that#like during the credits part the very end im not even talking about before that. holy god#aziraphale i know everything about you. i know what you are feeling right now. i can see everything on your face. we're going to make it#ER.... NOT THAT THIS HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS POST. IT'S NOT SPOILERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!#I JUST FEEL THOROUGHLY CHANGED !!!!!!!!!!! SHIT GETS REAL FROM NOW ON.. LIKE IN GENERAL! IN MY LIFE!#tormented gay love tormented gay love TORMENTED GAY LOVE TORMENTED GAY LOVE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#btw the first 3 images were drawn earlier with an entirely different feeling and an entirely different mood.#Why do you keep pulling away from me?#It is because i love you that i do this#the lyrics from one of my japanese orufrey songs (A SONG THAT THE CREATOR LISTENS TO!!!!) led to feelings#“あなたが知らない私を残さず見ててほしいの” but i'm not translating it cause it just sounds weird. if with his eyes oru's asking “WHY don't you want#to let me in? to see all of you?“ those lyrics are like ”I actually want you to see every last bit of the parts of me you don't know“#oru you have no idea how much i want to lay bare my whole soul for you#maybe it's an alternate version of chapter 40. to me#i need to draw something really fucking good or i'm not going to forgive myself. i will not rest in this life#until i have made the orufrey that fully satisfies me nor until i have seen what the manga is leading to#NO STORY MEANS ANYTHING WITHOUT TORMENTED GAY LOVE AT THE HEART OF IT. THATS THE HEART OF THIS WORLD!!!!!#........... so Hi im normal :) haha *goes and finally makes breakfast*
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waffliesinyoface · 5 months
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throwback to the time i got really into making touhou outfits in the animal crossing design maker, despite it being incredibly frustrating to use
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the-woman-upstairs · 5 days
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Honestly, even without Art’s attempts at manipulation and sabotage, I don’t think Patrick and Tashi’s relationship would’ve survived anyway. Before they started dating, Patrick was criticizing her career plans and Tashi was never interested in entertaining his massive ego at her expense. Passion and chemistry are important to relationships, but if that’s the only foundation, it’s gonna crumble quickly.
The only difference between Patrick/Tashi vs Art/Tashi is that the relationship would’ve ending with a bang instead of a whimper.
#challengers#challengers spoilers#patrick and tashi need art between them#his willingness to submit even when done so with manipulative intentions does let tashi and patrick to indulge in their desire for control#the movie makes a point of saying that patrick is constantly shooting himself in the foot because he’s unwilling to humble himself#art let patrick get away with a LOT but tashi does and would not#but even tho patrick does get to the point where he can humble himself it’s still necessary for patrick to go off script and stir shit up#the way the film ends makes it abundantly clear that all three of them need each other to function#and that each person brings something different to the trio that each person needs#so i don’t buy that patrick and tashi could’ve worked things out on their own#tashi so clearly likes art’s dependence and loyalty to her#while also getting a lot from patrick’s passion and pushback#would also like to say that i personally love when art’s a mean little bitch#not only cause it’s fun but because it really seems born out of a fear of being left alone/behind#spreading my ‘art’s a greedy pillow princess that actually needs TWO tops to handle him’ agenda#and wrt the injury…sorry no one’s actually at fault for that#not only could no one could ever engineer something like that#it could’ve happened at any time because that’s life#in the film it’s meant to underscore the danger of disharmony between all three of them#and snap the tenuous thread holding all three of them together#and placing blame kind of misses the overall point the film is going for wrt the relationship between all three#hey is it just me or has this film broken my brain
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grimalkinmessor · 6 days
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Yes Reigen becoming Hanazawa's new parental figure and essentially adopting him but only post-s3 finale to make it clear that he's filling a Mob-shaped hole and only if Mob gets super jealous and guilty and weird about it 🥰
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kiyterra · 2 years
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Okay bestie gonna ask this here cause i don't wanna flood your dash with my dc shenanigans but - in my humble opinion robert pattinson served twunk, what are the opinions on smol/short bruce and tall ass children????
(Also this is just a curiosity of mine and so sorry if it sounds pressuring but what post did you think to make art for??)
ok SO-
first off youre so right battinson is 100% twunk its literally right there in his entire build and batsuit design (which i ADORE SM) down to the high collar and armored six pack but also the littol ears and thigh holsters dksjahk
my default bruce is like a mix of comics and wfa version of him cause i do very much adore soft tired dad family man bruce but also i love to see him go absolutely insane batman-ing and be the one to say "excuse me, he asked for no pickles" (but like so politely, cause you know that comic where a garbage man asks him "you say thank you to your garbage guy?" and bruce goes "if i see him" and then my heart explodes? anyway-) for clark when they go out to eat-
so i believe that in comparison to like. the general populace he is above average height, like 6' at least. he is a tall man and he bumps his head in the supermarket aisles. BUT i also ABSOLUTELY STAN short king bruce relative to his family and friends- like. he already has to deal with diana and clark having a few inches on him (they WILL float just to annoy him, i know they would-) but then one day he goes home and passes by dick in the hallway and notices that his baby is only maybe an inch or less shorter and he's like. "oh god" but then on patrol he notices he has to look up to see the top of red hood's helmet and he's like. "OH GOD" and i am also a big fucking believer in damian growing to become taller than bruce- baby maybe up to bruce's chin goes to college and when he comes back bruce is eye level w his son's nose and he's just going "N O"
his chief thought is "i cant keep them safe in my cape anymore, i won't be able to hide them from the cameras anymore, if i stand in front of a bullet for them there's a chance it'll get past me oh god" and when he like. mentions this everyone just wants to strangle him cause 'THATS NOT THE POINT"
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