#(i'm happy to hear whether others would add any other categories!)

[maslows-pyramid-scheme]

Can you explain more what you mean when you say “an identity based framework is inconsistent with material analysis”?

I'm incredibly critical of the idea that simply having a particular social identity renders one 'oppressed' or 'oppressed enough' to speak on particular issues; if your biggest grievance is how people speak to/about you and not your material reality, then you're doing comparatively well.

For context, I think there are four main forms of structural disadvantage that we should structure our discourse around:

being institutionalised on the basis of one's group, e.g. imprisonment, confinement in certain places like residential schools, confinement in mental health facilities;

being subject to violence on the basis of one's group, e.g. domestic violence, conversion therapy, forceful removal from family/culture;

being impoverished on the basis of one's group, e.g. living in poverty (not just being poor), being prevented from earning or owning money; and

lacking institutional representation, e.g. in politics, in administrative decision-making, in planning decisions.

I find that a lot of online 'activists' can't actually describe what they believe without relying on an identity framework; they'll say that [x] is oppressed, but they won't be able to explain how [x] fits into any of those categories (or whether there should be a fifth category) - they'll just assume that material consequence follows group identification.

[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[morhido]

I've been lost in the owl house sauce for about three years and as a result i've mentally compiled a list of the characters' speech patterns and body language. Then i realised i should probably do something with that information and decided to jot it all down :>>

This is just gonna be the hexsquad for now since my lists for other characters are fairly sparse but additions/requests are welcome! Mayhaps i'll add to it in the future sjdkshskj

(The 'other' category is for general quirks, or things that just didn't fit the other categories)

LUZ:

• Happy/excited: stamps feet with high knees, squeaks/makes high pitched sounds, makes fists and brings them to her chest/face

• Sad: will initially deny if she's upset, whether she fesses up is up to circumstance. Lowers her head, can become unresponsive, becomes tired, voice will generally remain quiet and flat even if something cheers her up, empathetic crier

• Stressed/overwhelmed: repeats phrases over ("no no no, you're belos, you're just belos!"), falls to her knees or puts on hood when overwhelmed, acts overly casual to compensate for her panicking ("yikes, my dude"), protective of others when in physical danger (usually holds amity's head). More comedically, can often make unnecessary/dramatic gestures (e.g. spinning, cartwheeling, flopping to the floor) when stressed

• Angry: gets louder, sometimes unwilling to hear the other person out, becomes very physical, loses volume control (often to her own detriment), sticks her elbows out to look more intimidating. More comedically, will sometimes make animal noises/gestures (e.g. hissing and clawing)

• Other: often prematurely assumes that people will react poorly to her ("she's gonna embarrass herself, i can't watch!" / "if amity sees this, she'll think i'm such a loser!" / "what if the palisman doesn't like me?"), can accidentally be inconsiderate of other people in favour of her impulse, resorts to violence quickly and generally doesn't try to make peace with adults, very easily becomes rambly with strong emotion and can repeat words and phrases, can become loud and panicky during combat if her goal is self-preservation but becomes much more focused if fighting with/protecting other people

WILLOW:

• Happy/excited: becomes very active and touchy, very straightforward, taps toes, will be oblivious if others are intimidated by her, voice pitches up when excited

• Sad: draws herself in, becomes quiet, looks down/closes her eyes, isolates herself, can become less responsive, talks to herself

• Stressed/overwhelmed: loses control of magic, covers hair, voice pitches up when extremely nervous, very rarely acts on impulse even when scared, high-pitched squeaks/screams when startled

• Angry: vines grow from the ground beneath her, shows vocal disdain for whatever is upsetting her, can become very sardonic ("you want me to give up? You want me to admit how stressed i am?"), can go from high and stern when upset ("you just met them, give them a chance!") to low and loud when fully angry ("what advice could you POSSIBLY give me??")

• Other: denial is default coping mechanism, very often does the gag of pretending to be intimidating and then doing something sweet/cute, will be oblivious to the other person's fear when this happens, love language is physical touch, makes her feelings known unless she's specifically not trying to upset people, can speak pretty formally ("enchanting!", "how dare you?"), talks to herself in second person when hyping herself up, takes offensive role in combat

AMITY:

• Happy/excited: voice can get louder, smiles with teeth when extremely excited, becomes more impulsive with what she says and does

• Sad: raises voice when trying to make a point, voice cracks, becomes quieter with remorse, remains very quiet and calm when comforting/confiding in someone else

• Stressed/overwhelmed: s1 amity would get extremely defensive if any vulnerability was exposed ("help? All you're doing is prying into your friends' lives!"), rambles when flustered, holds hem of skirt when she's nervous/doesn't know what to do, also generally moves hands a lot when nervous, attempts to leave situations that are upsetting her, high-pitched screams when startled (does this less throughout the series as she becomes more on-guard and impulsive)

• Angry: often gets louder and more animated (e.g. her trying to break out of the dome in clouds on the horizon), face turns red, pushes away the source of her anger, doesn't usually stay angry for long, moves her body forward (e.g. pointing, gesturing, or actually stepping forwards), will often stick her arms straight at her sides

• Other: generally uncomfortable leaving her comfort zone but extremely confident in fields that she already excels in, extremely accepting of change in other people, arguably the second most impulsive of the hexsquad (especially regarding luz's safety) and uses fire to solve a lot of her problems, will take control of a situation when she knows she's in the right ("you're gonna listen to me for once"), usually very perceptive to others' emotions

GUS:

• Happy/excited: draws fists up to face, big gestures (especially with hands/arms)

• Sad: self-blames/depricates ("yeah. It's all my fault"), curls up with his arms and head on his knees, usually very vocal about being upset with something, "you've done it again, augustus" (in the context of being tricked by someone), can remain in this state for a long time, draws in on himself but doesn't push other people away

• Stressed/overwhelmed: loses control of magic (finds it difficult to discern reality from illusions), often hides behind willow when scared, laughs/smiles nervously when anxious or flustered, can get tunnel vision on the thing that's upsetting him

• Angry: stays level-headed and doesn't often raise his voice, speech becomes more emphatic, can become snarkier ("hey belos, remember me?"), remains distant from the subject of his anger, usually stays in a stance

• Other: very eager to prove himself whenever he has the opportunity (love language is acts of service), most willing to resort to violence ("nobody's dying" "not with that attitude", usually in a joking manner), most annoyed by his friends' shenanigans but always willing to tag along, makes big gestures (especially when emphasising something), sometimes repeats phrases when feeling strong emotions ("gus? Nickname? HUMAN nickname?? GUS???" / "wait × 6, is this really what you wanna be doing with your life?")

HUNTER:

• Happy/excited: extremely animated with his hands, voice gets louder, becomes very confident. Is very playful and arrogant when in golden guard mode and will usually try to show off or start relying on empty threats

• Sad: voice goes quiet and airy, voice cracks, can become raspier

• Stressed/overwhelmed: doesn't like to be touched when upset, is overwhelmed by affection and will often start crying, goes silent and dissociates when processing upsetting information, voice cracks, becomes extremely snappy and irritable from long-term stress, freezes under pressure, draws in on himself when panicking, goes silent when flustered

• Angry: becomes grumpy when things don't go his way, is extremely animated and expressive when actually angry, can become sardonic, raises voice, makes small movements (e.g. shaking leg or pacing small area). As golden guard, would try to physically intimidate the other person (e.g. looming over or walking towards them)

• Other: doesn't tend to self-blame and will either pass the fault onto someone else ("you got us trapped in the emperor's mind!"), or acknowledge when someone else was in the wrong ("you were tricked. That's what belos does, he tricks people"). Almost never initiates combat and plays a more defensive role, extremely theatrical/expressive and talkative (will have to actively restrain himself to not talk about something), squeaks a lot

[honeysucklebuttons]

Any Gonta hc's involving bugs? I'd love to hear them if you'll share! I'm curious what you got c:

Hello! Thank you for your patience, I've finally had some time to think about this wonderful question!! <3

_ In general, Gonta is especially protective of the bugs that have bad reputations. He loves and respects all of the amazing life forms out there, but there's something about them that he relates to, whether he realizes it or not. These misconceptions and fear of "gross" or "scary-looking" creatures that could be aggressive if provoked, with maybe a bite or sting or a disease inside them... well, he knows what that feels like to be seen on such a surface level. He's extremely wary of letting other people handle his own bugs in this category for this reason, until he's really truly sure that they'll be handled safely.

_ Some days it feels like he has an exoskeleton, because of the way the rain falls off of his shape, how kind words can bounce off and he feels like he has to show the side of him that won't waver. Some days he wishes he had one, because skin is easy to tear and bruise and blush, and oh, how it gives him away. But having bones on the inside is good, too.

_ I've mentioned before that Gonta sings a lullaby to his bugs every night, some tune he made up or learned while he was lost. (Maybe he managed to learn how to make certain bug sounds!!) This is true for both his bugs at work and at home! He might add words if there are people around that he doesn't mind singing in front of.......

_ Not really a hc, but please, if you will, imagine Gonta talking to baby bugs in a baby-talking voice, like most people do with pets. He doesn't use it with the adults, though - they deserve to be talked to like adults, after all!

_ Gonta building fun enclosures!! (I'm thinking about people with pet jumping spiders, specifically this one person who made their spider a miniature cat tree to explore for enrichment.) He knows what they need, and he can communicate with them to make their short life spans much more exciting! (Setting up tea parties with things they can eat; having an indoor garden area for the pollinators; etc)

_ There are many reasons that Gonta tears up or cries when his bugs are concerned. Celebrating an unexpectedly long life span, happy birthday!! A fight breaking out that he couldn't stop, between bugs that should have been just fine together... A new clutch of babies are hatching!! Oh, none of them made it... Having a staring contest with someone who follows his every movement!! A funeral for someone he's had a long time... Matchmaking a compatible match, they seem very happy!! An accident happened with the enclosure, or the food, or a person mishandled one of them... At the end of the day, sometimes just thinking about bugs is enough to do it!!!! And sometimes, "IT'S JUST SO TINY" is as valid a reason as any :D

_ Gonta is That Guy at bug conventions- people whisper excitedly about him as he passes by, ask for photos, and more than once, he's had someone come up to him and ask anything from, "Would you like to hold my [species name]?! I'd be so honored if you did!!" to "Would you like to be featured in our publication? Your work proceeds you!" He's getting used to it, slowly.

_ Gonta talks to himself. Gonta also talks to bugs and other creatures. It's hard to tell who he's talking to if he's the only person around, sometimes...

_ He loves bug art and tattoos and, while he might not have any tattoos himself, he ogles politely when people show him theirs! At least a few people have asked to get his scientific drawings done as tattoos and he's always initially like "why tho????" until he sees it and then it's "!!!!!!!!!!!" hehe

Okay I think I'll stop here for now.......... thank you for the wonderful Gonta daydreams, I hope these are what you were looking for! (Hopefully you didn't want specific ones like... how does Gonta feel about ladybugs or something lol) (he loves them, next question) <3 <3 <3

[sukirichi]

suk *ehem saeren (new pseud is sexy btw and also your new theme vvv sexc bestie!!!😌😌) okay so when i read chp 7-8 i was like ‘y/n c’mon. give kita the chance he deserves i mean IT’S THE MR. KITA SHINSUKE WTF WHAT MORE CAN YOU ASK?!’ but then oh god, the museum scene holy fuck. no because the cherry blossom tree works so well as an analogy for the main couple’s love story. yeah, cherry blossoms signify new beginnings and are mostly adorned by many when they bloom. why? aside from the indication of renewal, it only stays for a certain period of the year which is always a sight to see and because of the limited time frame, everyone knows the beauty it exudes will be gone after the time passes (death). going back, suna and y/n’s routine of spending time together to being away from each other’s presence is the recurring theme for them to grow. seeing them say too many goodbyes brings that anxious feeling of ‘ahh. it we will be back to square one again'  (also, not the fact that broken record connotes annoying repetition of something is aksjalks🤧) 

also yeah, when you love a person, the one should make you feel calm and secure and only then you can distinguish whether you truly love them or just merely an infatuation. but in y/n’s case, whether she has that rose-tinted glasses on or not, identifying the blaring red flags is hard to accept notice if that same marker is the one that brings her comfort due to its familiarity. and idk where to put this in my last ask because i don’t have enough brain juice to make a theory, but the way suna is nervous for his first date with mari, he should have second guessed why he’s acting like that when the happiness he felt with y/n is way more different with mari (should have listened to osamu and aran and ooh im sorry i assumed they samu and suna were schoolmates in high school when they are not akhfak). sure, he’s nervous out of excitement but for what? it's like foreshadowing that he needs to put up a front with mari just to keep her (but we all know that is not the case) in those 3 years they spent together, did he feel more on the edge than relaxed tho? 🤨

and for someone who loathes her half-sister, nagisa sure is invested with the happenings in y/n. it’s like she’s always on the lookout for her mistakes and dote it on her until her last breath. the mari and nagisa connection is possible though and it is not like they live countries apart but their meeting, from the way i see it, is like a silver lining for nagisa to topple y/n lol🤪 and aah, now it get why nagisa called y/n whore at the restaurant. when i read that part, i thought that they have somewhat lived under the same roof for some time but the succeeding chps showed they did not and was still confused because she has never shown any interest about what is going on with her affiliated family except hatred and then that happened. i guess when she burst out at that moment, it was when the two had met? 

it’s kinda disheartening to see how lucy subtly(??) controls y/n’s love life. maybe because she doesn’t want y/n to fall under the same category for marrying out of love when she is the one who refuses to divorce the dad (= she shouldn’t). should have filed that divorce, not doing so is a recipe for disaster itself. and mari 😤😤WHAT DID I SAY?? (well in this case, it is shunning others away from suna) i cannot, for my peace of mind, be able to be in the same vicinity as her. for all i know, i could be dragging her on the floor out of pure disgust. i can’t wait to find out who died and who is in critical condition. though, that critical scenario lead to afterlife too, so no wishful thinking here. but, ahh are we getting a background story for suna too?🥺 this is where i'm betting my wish at. while we’re at it, i wonder how atsumu will react to suna impregnating mari. i imagine he would say ‘dude wtf?! she chose you! how could you?!’ i know he is happy with his gf but can’t help to be caring as ever to y/n.

reading chps 7-9 in one go was a pleasant experience 1.because school😔🤢 2.angst is way more comforting than comedy 3.no more anxious thoughts of why and how this happened because at this point, i’m just playing hidden mickey here. but i truly love the story, can’t believe it’s already ending by the next update. saerennn i hope ur okay bub?🥺 and get that hashbrowns after finishing the series or while working for the last track. u deserve it!! luv u~💕💕

🍳

my egg anon, hello !! I’m so sorry for the late response, my asks were piled up and I got busy with school :<

AND AAAAAH THANK YOU I’M SO HAPPY YOU GOT THE MESSAGE OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS!! it was actually taken from the music video I linked back to the end of the chapter and my friend and I were discussing it because I think there were lots of symbolism on it. the one about new beginnings because the cherry blossoms only come for a certain time of the year before a new season comes also represents how YN and Suna keep going back and forth to loving, getting complicated, forgiving, getting complicated and so on and so forth. I love everything you said because it was exactly how I wanted the story to be like <33 the part about being anxious too !! that’s why YN keeps saying ‘this cycle never ends.’ and YESSSS THAT’S ALSO WHY I CHOSE BROKEN RECORDS AS THE TITLE. the ‘records’ refer to them playing love songs and then apology songs to each other over and over but then the song stops and they start to have new stories :<<

oooooh yes, totally. judging from my own experience, I can tell too whether it’s love or infatuation. when I’m with someone I love, I feel totally at peace and safe with them. it’s comfortable, it’s not supposed to be scary or nerve wracking. even if something wrong happened, you’re assured by the knowledge they’d be patient and listen to you. AND THIS PART WHERE YOU SAID THIS ABOUT SUNA ‘whether she has that rose-tinted glasses on or not, identifying the blaring red flags is hard to accept notice if that same marker is the one that brings her comfort due to its familiarity’ ITS 100% ACCURATE. same goes for suna tbh. YN was the one who broke his heart when they broke up but she was also the only able to comfort him. it’s hard for them to let each other go because they’re both a source of pain and familiarity that they struggle to find in this world. yes there’s some slight foreshadowing in how suna reacted with mari. he was on edge and he didn’t know what to do most of the time because he doesn’t understand mari the same way he understands YN. as for him being on edge, he most definitely was tiptoeing because mari placed a lot of boundaries such as keeping YN completely out of the picture and making her presence a bare minimum.

NOOOO BECAUSE THAT’S SO TRUE. Nagisa is always updated with YN. YN is the one who updates her about her life because she’s always trying to make conversation, but Nagisa pretends to be ‘uninterested’ although don’t let that fool you because she remembers every little detail just in case she can use it against her half sister. nagisa and mari met after mari broke up with suna in ch1 so yes, nagisa already knew the situation !! that’s why she called YN a ‘whore’ because if she ‘was with Suna’ then why is she also ‘dating’ Kita? so in nagisa’s eyes, YN is just the same as her mom.

lucy was half and half. sometimes she has good intentions but most of the time she’s also just messed in the head and she really fucked with YN’s trust issues. HMMM I WANTED A BACKGROUND STORY FOR SUNA TOO TBH but I didn’t know where to fit it and I didn’t want to add random, unnecessary details :<< AND FOR ATSUMUUUUU…. atsumu crushed on YN real hard… until now, even though he has a gf (now wife in the timeskip) you can tell he still cares about YN

NAUUUR angst is way more comforting than comedy sobs. and yes baby, I’m doing okay !! just a lil busy with uni work but nothing I can’t handle <33 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS EGG ANON, I REALLY LOVE HEARING YOUR THOUGHTS ON IT BECAUSE YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG BRAIN AHHH I love you, stay safe too bb <33

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Lonely Stranger

Word Count: 1,340 (+ lyrics- in bold italics)  Character: Ryan Brenner  A/N: This was a real damn treat for me to write, as well as an agonizing experience. I’ll explain a little more. Title of this drabble and lyrics used belong to Eric Clapton, not Ryan Brenner or I... and if you haven’t heard the song, please listen before, during or after you read this.  

(ARTIST APPRECIATION SUBMISSION)

Happy Sunday everyone! I am so pumped to share this next submission for the fanart appreciation event, for many reasons. First of all, the art itself is literally breathtaking. The incredible attention to the smallest of details in this not only show how badass this artist is, but perfectly mirror Ryan’s attention to the little things. The moment that I got this submission from @something-tofightfor to write for the piece that  @gollyderek did that was inspired by Neon Lights, I just about exploded with excitement. First of all, Neon Lights is my favorite piece of fanfiction on this or any plane of existence. If you haven’t read it you absolutely have to. Secondly, Laura’s artwork for it was and still is my happy place because it so perfectly depicts the magic of the moment that reader first sees Ryan. In fact, it makes lots of people’s days better, Laura. When she submitted this request, Rachael told me that this artwork makes her happy even on bad days. 

So the chance to write about not only a beautiful work of art, but one inspired by a beautiful work of fiction was sort of fricking amazing! I decided (with @something-tofightfor​ ‘s blessing, of course- Thanks for trusting me, Rachael!) to write this from Ryan’s POV. 

Anyway! I could continue to gush about how talented both of these ladies are and how much both of their works mean to me, but let’s get on with it. Laura, from Rachael (and I) to you: THANK YOU FOR GIFTING US ALL WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF ART. YOU ARE TALENTED. YOU ARE APPRECIATED. YOU ARE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH. Keep fuckin shit up in the best way. 

(Can you hear him singing? I can. Good Lord, I can.) 

Lonely Stranger

Once his fingers began to work at the strings, the guitar in Ryan’s lap stopped being separate from him. Hunched over the body and curved around the neck, he let the faces in the small crowd that had gathered disappear and gave all of his focus to the song he was playing. While he enjoyed playing for people, even taking requests to ensure that he played things that they actually knew and wanted to hear, what he enjoyed the most about music was the way that it didn’t begin and end with just his voice or his guitar. It required more than that. Soul and memory. Joy and mistakes. Got plenty’a both. 

Making music was about feeling all of these things and using them to say something through song, regardless of whether or not it was one he’d written. It was his chance to talk to people he might otherwise not get the opportunity to. Just as they slipped beneath the notes he played and the lyrics he sang, he felt himself become invisible to them. His dusty boots, stained jeans, roughly inked digits and all of the preconceived notions that they carried became muted details that mattered less and less with every pluck and pass of his fingers and thumbs, every line he belted out. Ryan became invisible enough to connect with these strangers, just enough to make them smile and keep him believing that people were better on the whole than the worst of their parts. 

They didn’t mind that they’d never see him again, and the older he got and the more he traveled, he realized that he didn't either. Ryan had a few people in his life that he knew would always be a part of it- Georgie and a couple of the friends that they played with together, Virginia, even if every day it got closer to too long since he’d seen her. Cowboy, even though he was gone. Ryan’s closed eyelids wrinkled as he connected that loss to the story he was telling with his song. 

I must be invisible No one knows me. I have crawled down dead-end streets On my hands and knees.

The people who knew him weren’t the ones standing in front of him as he sat perched on a milk crate suspended over the Strip. Those people were scattered elsewhere, acting as anchors for him to return to when needed, as he was to them- people who understood him, accepted him beyond what they could see and without trying to change him. Those people were few and far between, both figuratively and in miles, and Ryan had recently decided that that was for the best. He hadn’t left his home looking for someplace to settle into a new one, he’d done it to live on his own terms. It had been years since he’d met someone who had seen him beneath what they guessed about him, those guesses more often than not being wrong, so he’d stopped hoping for it. 

'cause I'm a lonely stranger here, Well beyond my day. And I don't know what's goin' on, So I'll be on my way.

It was easier to just make these little connections through music, to focus on the details of the city he was in. The skyline, the way clouds gathered and the colors that they cast over the landscape, cobbled streets and gravel roads, highways and bright lights and everything that made each place he visited different from the one before. That’s why he’d chosen the life he had, regardless of what people thought, and it was easier to enjoy those things than it was to try to find another person who saw them the way that he did, saw his lifestyle as a series of intentional choices and not one of circumstantial consequence. 

The desert heat hadn’t left with the sunlight, and though sweat ran in beads between his shoulder blades and left salty trails from his forehead and temples that dried on his skin before reaching his beard, he hardly noticed. He opened his eyes briefly as he played between lyrics, a few more people stepping up to join the audience, their featureless faces reflecting the colors of the neon lights that brought the city to life. Just people on vacation, checking “watch a street performer” off of their Vegas to-do list. Crinkled dollar bills and a small cache of coins littered the lining of the guitar case at his feet, and he was grateful for every cent of it because it allowed him to continue to live the life he wanted, even if it meant becoming a small detail in the scrapbooks of other people’s lives. 

He blinked as a drop of sweat rolled into his eye, and shook his head to clear it without missing a beat. Opening both eyes again, Ryan expected to be met with the same cluster of strangers that he’d just seen, but where before when his eyes had been able to skim across the crowd with ease, this time they found a sticking point- a young woman standing off to the side in a simple black dress, a soft pink glow illuminating her from behind. What? Ryan’s brow wrinkled, and he gave another small shake of his head as though trying to clear a mirage from his mind. 

But you were still there, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly open, body entirely still. But she’s… listening. Ryan closed his eyes, tight, and sunk himself back into the song. Doesn’t matter.   

Some will say that I'm no good; Maybe I agree. Take a look then walk away. That's alright with me.

But you hadn’t heeded the warning in the song. You’d stuck around as most of the crowd dispersed, continuing on to the destinations that his presence on the bridge had delayed them from. Why? He looked down as you tossed a bill into the case, the green paper landing on the small pile of other bills but standing out starkly due to the number in the corner being much higher than any that it sat atop. Oh. That’s… 

“That’s too much, you don’t have to-” he said aloud, assuming that you’d meant to slip something smaller into the case. Bringing his eyes up to yours, they locked onto something there that surprised him. Lips suddenly dry, his tongue darted out to wet them. “Please, that’s not-” 

But you wouldn’t let it go, insisting that he take the tip and the praise that came along with it. You didn’t run off, having checked a box and eager to check another, but stepped aside as he briefly thanked those that did have somewhere else to be. You stayed through another song- one he’d written- watching and listening with the same look on your face, closer now, the curve of your cheek and the tip of your nose highlighted by the yellow orange glow of a different set of lights. She’s… he thanked the couple in front of him, giving them a genuine smile and telling them to have a nice evening, but he was still stuck on your eyes. She’s stunning but I...it... When you’d overheard him answer someone else’s question of what his name was, you hadn’t waited for him to introduce himself to you before using it yourself, and when you did he could feel the way that his own eyes lightened, smiling from the unexpected way you’d maintained the connection that others so easily dropped the second the last note faded. 

Close enough now to see even more than he’d been able to before, Ryan realized what had made you different, even if he couldn’t fathom how he knew it. She’s been lonely, too. Knows it's not all bad, bein’ alone. It wasn’t sadness in your eyes that gave that away, it was clarity. Damn. But instead of looking for a way to cut it off, Ryan held onto the connection that the two of you shared, offering to play a song of your choosing. 

To him, your choice had only confirmed what he didn’t know how he knew about you. The odd comfort and jarring change of being seen, even if just for the length of a few songs adding to the list of things he’d add to the guitar, to his voice: Soul and memory. Joy and mistakes. 

And this… no matter what category tonight falls into.  

.

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And now I am going to go cry about how much I love Ryan Brenner and this perfectly frozen moment in time that @gollyderek​ captured from @something-tofightfor​ ‘s beautiful words. SWOON and SIGH. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it even if it made me nervous AF and choosing a song for Ryan to be singing was more difficult than it should have been. Thank you a million times to all of you fabulous artists! If you are an artist in the Ben Barnes fandom, or you want to surprise an artist with a quick drabble based on their art, send me a message and link me to the posted artwork. Let’s show these talented folks how much we appreciate them and the things that they create! 

[dreamersscape]

I was torn whether I should make my own post with my reactions to these episodes so I wouldn't accidentally push my feelings onto you where maybe our takes or our interest in focusing on specific moments differs, but judging from this post that danger is minimal (😆) and this feels like the most appropriate place to spill all my emotions, so HERE WE GO.

I, too, love to pieces how much effort Kakashi intentionally puts into providing his little genin with fun, silly activities during their rare downtime--something he never had the opportunity for when he was their age. And when he possibly did at a much younger age, like that game of kick the can, he appeared much too focused on accomplishing the "goal" of 'saving his friends' to really be freely enjoying himself and having fun (as touching as his serious declarations were to hear). And to add onto what you were saying in your other response:

And of course he does it all in complete secret.  This is always his M.O., and it fills me with so much emotion, because he never asks for anything from the kids, never.  He never needs to be acknowledged for what he does on their behalf; he’s perfectly content working for their happiness from the shadows, and all he ever wants in return is to see them running around and laughing and having a good time.

It's as you say; he would never ask anything of his students and he does all of it without any expectation to get anything back out of it himself, but it's true that we never see him as happy as he is when goofing off with his kids. Seeing their smiles, hearing their laughter, and observing the development of their teamwork and bonds, it brings him so much joy! It's not why he's doing it, and I admire and relate to him all the more for that, but it makes me indescribably happy and gets me all choked up to see how good this is for him too. ;‿;

And like, his eye-smiles already filled my heart to bursting with love, but how am I supposed to cope now knowing this is the full picture of those?

HE SHOULD ALWAYS BE SO HAPPY.

(Add those gifs to the 'it's like looking at the sun' category.)

I loved how Hinata said "Plan A...has...failed." Bless your heart, my girl. That was the most darling thing ever. <3

And Gai, who's notorious for being unable to remember people's faces he's met, coming so close to recognizing Kakashi! And Kakashi's nervousness when it looked like he was about to be discovered! I don't like seeing him uncomfortable, but it was still pretty cute. :) (Curious that he's fine with his face being seen as long as it's not connected to being known as his face.)

Now that you've met Sukea, you should check out this fanart and Feel Things. ;)

I'm glad that--among other things--they've consistently kept Naruto's unpredictability as one of his greatest strengths. :D

They let Sakura be instrumental in saving the world!!! I mean, this doesn't erase all the other times they've dropped the ball with her certainly, but letting her rescue Sasuke with Obito was a wonderful moment for them and of course was essential in them being able to seal Kaguya later. And Sakura reminds both Kakashi and Obito of Rin. :) :) :) And they could've done a better job of integrating Sakura into the final clash with Kaguya, but it still counts as a team victory and I will take it.

I just about died laughing when the first thing Naruto said to Sasuke upon their return was, "Sasuke, have you properly thanked Sakura and Obito?!" Sasuke is pretty much the ONLY person Naruto could possibly chide over their lack of manners and yet be right on the money about it, and he's not about to pass up the opportunity. 🤣🤣🤣 BUT YEAH, SASUKE, DIDJA?

And now you know why I possess NOT A SINGLE IOTA of composure when it comes to Rin holding Kakashi's and Obito's hands. Holding hands as a concept is ruined for me now. It is a Team Minato thing forevermore, and I will never be okay again.

"Why save someone useless like me?!" KAKASHI I GET IT I DO THINGS ARE A LOT RIGHT NOW AND YOU'RE IN A LOT OF PAIN AND FEEL HELPLESS BUT YOU ARE TESTING ME.

Okay, so not to take away from Obito's earlier words encouraging Kakashi not to rush after him in death and that he wants Kakashi to live - that's really important and something Kakashi desperately needed to hear! But, well, um... wouldn't it have been better to actually say out loud what you thought about "As someone who will support the next generation, it's too soon for you to die" instead of just urging Kakashi to focus on the enemy?? I know, we all want Kakashi to want to live for himself as well as for how he can help others! it's just, can we not let him get away with calling himself useless when you're literally thinking about how much Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto need him going forward??? Just a thought, buddy?

He's crumbling to ash from the inside out, Emily, cut him some slack! He's gonna make up for it in five minutes! It's gonna be okay!

IS IT THOUGH?

Hahahahaha remember how I mentioned I was losing my mind at the mere notion of Kakashi and Obito not be together when Obito died? Well, that was nothing compared to the deepest throes of agony I was in when Obito was cracking apart and he only talked to Naruto with Kakashi standing right there. Obviously they fixed this in the next episode, and it's not that I didn't want that moment between Naruto and Obito; it was thematically poignant! And I like the parallels between Obito and Naruto! But there was absolutely no way I could appreciate that sequence with Kakashi hurting so keenly that his legs couldn't even hold his weight AND THEY DIDN'T SAY A WORD TO EACH OTHER! My brother was genuinely worried about me, I was in such a state. 😅 I've never yelled so much at a TV in my life!

Heh, they definitely were effective in making black zetsu utterly detestable, huh? I have to say you're much more vermin-esque, my guy.

"Because the sixth hokage should be you, Kakashi." Obito speaking for us all!!!!! 🥺🥰

It makes sense that Kaguya would be most mindful and leery of Sasuke and Naruto since they had the seals and so they were the priority for neutralizing; but how awesome is it that in doing so, she left herself open for Kakashi and Sakura to contain and hinder her enough that the boys had time to grab her! :D:D:D:D:D

Probably you're already of aware of this, but apparently "I really love you guys" lines up a bit smoother in the original because instead of Kakashi telling the kids his first impression of them is "You're a bunch of idiots", in the Japanese he says his impression is "Well, I hate you." Either way though, it really can't be overstated how moving that sentiment is coming from Kakashi, can it? It knocked the wind right out of me in the best way. And the way they paired this emotional cathartic expression from Kakashi with the fighting plot resolution...! If I think about that line too much it always feels like my brain is going to melt.

Also, I must admit that "I really love you guys" was echoing over and over in my head the other day when we were talking about Kakashi finally "allowing" himself to love his people and this new something-akin-to-peace-of-mind he has when he's interacting with Sasuke. 😁 This is such a breakthrough for him!

And what I love about these two is how they so instantly answer in the affirmative whenever they’re thinking about the other person, but not when it comes to themselves.  Kakashi always does everything he can to pull Yamato out of the darkness and back into the stream of humanity, and Yamato, for his part, sees Kakashi as someone who already belongs, who has a set place and absolutely deserves to be there (deserves everything, frankly; Yamato thinks Kakashi deserves EVERYTHING; he thinks Kakashi is worthier than him in every way even when Kakashi thinks the exact opposite) - and so, like you said, the idea of them kind of figuring out that they do in fact belong here with each other and with their kids is just, uhhhhh…that is Maximum Emotions Quota for me.

YOU AND ME BOTH.

PAN. Pan Pan Pan! Imagine this new level of tenderness, verbally (internally) acknowledging the affection he feels, and open showing of love and fondness Kakashi's unlocked - except, still, when he's speaking of himself - directed at Yamato!!! IT'S WHAT YAMATO DESERVES. WE NEED TO SEE IT.

(The teasing that's present in Kakashi's and Tenzo's dynamic is GREAT don't get me wrong; that should stay. BUT JUST IMAGINE KAKASHI AT THE VERY LEAST REALIZING ALL OVER AGAIN HOW MUCH YAMATO MEANS TO HIM. NOT THAT HE HADN'T REALIZED BEFORE, BUT WITH THIS NEW MINDSET HE HAS, HOW, I DON'T KNOW, PALPABLE IT IS? HOW MORE OPEN HE KINDA IS TO IT? Am I getting too far ahead of myself here, Pan? Feel free to rein me in if I'm being too sentimental. The internal angst is still coming for both of them, I'm well aware! And I don't mean Kakashi is suddenly going to do a 180 from the reserved, self-contained person he's always been when interacting with others. But the next time they hopefully see each other...)

in-progress (and incoherent) naruto thoughts: waterfall of tears no jutsu edition

kakashi spending an entire day and expending a ridiculous amount of effort and chakra just so his kids can HAVE FUN.  him secretly playing with his kiddos and all their little twelve year-old friends just so they can enjoy themselves, with them none the wiser that he’s doing any of it - him spending the day entertaining children and letting kids be kids Just Because.  just because he wants to.  just because it makes him happy to make them happy.

obito ripping multiple universes open searching for the last surviving member of the family he destroyed, the last surviving member of his own family.

sakura and sasuke seeing each other through that portal.  sakura calling for him, him running to her, the portal shrinking, him catching her before she falls down.

sasuke looking up to see kakashi leaping in front of him to take a projectile meant for him, to die shielding him, just like kakashi promised him he would, all those years ago [i’ll protect you with my life]

i was so stubborn.  and so often…ill at ease.  but you always came to my rescue.

obito sparing kakashi while sacrificing himself.  you stay here a little while longer.  it’s too soon for you to die.  don’t be so quick to follow us.

who do you want to save this time?  kakashi.

I REALLY LOVE YOU GUYS