#First post that actually contributes to something

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

au where soap is medically discharged and doesn’t really have a “purpose” anymore. He enlisted so young, and had been in the military for so long that he’s got no fucking idea what to do next. In the end, he moves in with his oldest sister and her kids after his brother-in-law passes away suddenly.

While getting his feet back under him, he takes up drawing again. More seriously this time than just doodles on paperwork and scribbles on briefing notes. But real illustrations. It starts as a way to keep his hands occupied while idle at home, but then it becomes an actual hobby of his. He gets better and better, watching YouTube tutorials to learn things he wouldn’t have picked up otherwise.

It’s his 15 year old niece that gets everything rolling. She (without his knowledge) sets up a social media account to share his art. But a very specific series of art. See, he started illustrating the stories his 5 year old nephew told him. And the art, just like the stories, are mindblowing. Soap didn’t do it for recognition, but his niece insisted on sharing his work with the world.

The account starts to get a following, and when his niece shows it to him he nearly has a breakdown. But then he sees the comments. Parents of kids who feel seen in his art. Young self taught artists feeling seen through him. A whole community of people who connected with his work on such a deeper level than anything he’d expected. So, begrudgingly, he lets her continue to post.

Then comes the storefront. With prints and merch and all sorts of wild ass things he’d never dreamed of. And while the income is modest, it still an income. For a while, a part of him had felt guilty for “mooching” off his sister (despite her protests to the contrary) and now he can really start contributing to the household. Plus, a little bit of each sale gets squirreled away for his niece and nephew. Since without them, this whole thing wouldn’t be happening.

And then the email comes. It’s innocuous at first, something he’s gotten a number of times. The sender asks him if he’s willing to illustrate for an upcoming project with a children’s book author. They’d seen his work online and thought his style would match perfectly with the book. Initially, soap was going to politely decline the offer. As much as he’d come to accept the minor fame he’d gotten online, he didn’t think he was good enough to actually illustrate something for a traditional publication. But then he sees the sender’s signature.

S. Riley.

Not much was known about Riley as a person. Their personal life, much like their first name, was kept down tight under lock and key. But their books were beloved by so many, including Soap and his family. Riley wrote on topics that not a lot of other children’s book authors dared to touch, and not with the deft and delicate hand necessary to properly tackle them. Things like parental abuse, neglect, trauma, death; there wasn’t a subject Riley was scared of, and there wasn’t a subject that they handled with anything less than the utmost grace. Their book on dealing with grief and loss had gotten Soap’s niblings (and his sister, to be perfectly honest) through those first few months after their father’s death.

So, despite his misgivings and anxieties, soap accepts.

(Across the country, one Simon Riley waits with bated breath to see if his nephew Joseph’s (and his) mysterious favorite artist will say yes. For no other reason than professional curiosity. It definitely has nothing to do with the briefest glimmer of a bright blue eye caught in the corner of a recent post.)

[wingerwind]

Final Girls designs! (post-session 3)

Rambling under the cut:

Poor Pearl is not looking so good 😭 the improvised leather shorts have done a number to her swag I’m afraid. At least she was in water when the creeper exploded so her jacket is fine (me trying to justify it when the real reason is that her jacket is her signature thing and removing it feels very wrong)

Scott and Cleo are doing really well though! The fact that they didn’t die once to the snails is super impressive (just like my GOATs Gem and Joel)

And uh, about Cleo’s color scheme, my answer is: idk I guess they were feeling particularly Halloween-y…or something. (Its actually because I didn’t want to add too many new colors to their team color palette. I love Cleo’s skin but why. Does it have. So many colors. But now I feel bad because I made their outfit so much uglier. I am sensing a theme amongst my life series designs)

Impulse is on light green but that’s partly because Gem’s one hundred percent committed to making him everyone’s number one hit. I love how Impulse didn’t even betray her last season, Pearl did. At first, Gem definitely was telling people to go after both Pearl and Impulse, but by now for some reason Gem’s stopped bringing Pearl up altogether and is just telling everyone to kill Impulse…is this a sign shinyduo breakup is over (<——-delusional)

I feel bad for Impulse though. Why does the universe have it out for him every season. (Very unfunny joke incoming) I am contributing to this by removing the tittle on his shirt. Give it back, now his shirt looks like a lowercase ‘L’ and he really doesn’t need any more ‘L’s.

[medusas-daughter]

Do you have an opinion as to why Agatha thinks the witches road was a more interesting piece of magic than Wanda's hex ?

Is it because it was based on the ballad ? Or personal interest (his subconscious created something that was directly linked to the culture of witches in a way that the hex really wasn't) ? Or both/something else ?

Thank you for the excellent question 💜

The fact that it's based on something witchy is definitely a big part of why Agatha finds it more interesting. She was super impressed with Wanda's hex and how her magic worked on the whole town, like the technical aspect of it, but I think she just found sitcoms cheesy. But the road leaned so much into witch culture that it's probably more to her taste. And Billy was fascinated with magic whereas Wanda didn't even want to call herself a witch so that contributes to her liking him more than his mother.

The other reason why she thinks the road is more impressive is that the road isn't just forcing them to act out scenarios like Wanda's hex, the road has become an incredibly powerful entity far beyond the theatrics. The poison in the first trial was real. Alice actually broke the generational curse. The ghost of Agatha's mother was actually summoned. Objectively, he created something far more powerful than Wanda's hex that in hindsight looks quite harmless compared to the road that conjures up your worst nightmares and forces you to evolve and heal the parts of you you never wanted to confront. The road did deliver, albeit in a very violent sometimes cruel way, but it delivered. That is objectively an incredibly powerful hex to cast.

And then the fact that it's a piece of Nicky come to life is not négligeable of course. It is Agatha, it is never one thing with her, it's always layers upon layers.

But I do kind of agree with her if only out of personal taste. I love Wandavision and it will always be special by virtue of being the first of Jac's projects I've seen and the first in this format, and the love letter to television it was. But as a non American born in the 90s the early episodes just didn't really speak to me that much, I had to read posts from people who understood the references to really get it. The only one I recognized is the Modern Family one which I loved but that's about it. I was way more interested in the magic part if it all. Now Agatha All Along, as a lover of fantasy and all things witchy, it was a love letter to all those iconic things I've loved so much. The references to Practical Magic, Fleetwood Mac, The Craft, The Wizard of Oz, summer camp horror movies, etc were just incredible.

[17-noodlebird]

presenting...

The Amazing Digital Circus Road Trip AU!!!! 🎪🛣️🎉

I finally have the courage to post something of genuine purpose here!!!

So this is the summary:

• The events prior to the road trip were… eventful, for lack of a better term. To make a long story short, a group of dimensional travelers opened the eyes of the Amazing Digital Circus, both for better and for worse. What started out so rocky ended up becoming a closer bond for them, as they learned more about the other dimensions, and maybe, just maybe, the enigmatic inner machinations of C&A and their perpetually dark history.

• About 6 months went by since then, with Bubble, and four of the interdimensional diplomats, Beth, Pam, Val, and Garcia, creating brand new maps for the game that the others could explore, while completing tasks, gaining artifacts, and meeting brand new people, all while keeping the details secret until it was ready. The other diplomats each had their own contributions to their own game maps, as did Bubble, but only one knew the ending of the road trip: the main diplomat Lulu.

• The road trip would be akin to the world level-based collect-a-thon video games, a la the Super Mario Odyssey, and the role-playing games a la the Steven Universe: Light series. Twenty-six designated levels were made, each with a different theme, animation style, culture, customs, interactable NPCs, characters in need of help, and antagonists/bosses that they can defeat.

• There is a door made out of mountain rock that needs to be unlocked, using all twenty-six (or twenty-eight, depending on your point of view on the matter) jewels, to unlock the “ending” of the road trip; no one else, not even Bubble, knows what's behind the rock door — no one, that is, except Lulu. She says that it's a surprise for afterwards. Each gem is hidden somewhere in their respective worlds, and the players need to obtain and collect all of the jewels in order to open that door by completing tasks, fulfilling objectives, and defeating antagonists. While the circus players pack their things into the Magical Digital Van (a combo of the Magic School Bus for the cutesy face that only communicates in beeps or radio music, and Vanzilla from The Loud House, in terms of retro appearance and spaciousness in cargo and passengers), Garcia gives Caine a silver-colored crystalline gem, causing a “YOU DID IT” pop-up to appear, startling him. Apparently, the pop-up appears when a jewel is obtained after completing the location’s objective. After the first jewel is placed in the middle of the rock door, The Amazing Digital Circus sets off for fun and adventure, thrills and peril, comedy and tragedy, action and excitement, an obscure all-star cast of side characters, heroes, villains, pop culture references, ties to nostalgia, relatability, and… possibly romance…...? Who knows? The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

• Each of the Digital Circus members have magical Velcro bracelet communicators that they can use to contact the diplomats for help on tasks, finding out further information, or to just talk to them the same way we'd talk to our loved ones on the phone for hours on end. The communicators also send the circus members notifications for an objective they must complete (do keep in mind they can come much later than usual when they least expect it), as well as random achievements, the same way you would when actually playing a video game. Once a jewel has been obtained by any means, the pop-up will congratulate the circus members for grabbing the jewel, as well as to notify how many left you need to obtain to unlock the rock door. For example:

~ JEWEL OBTAINED! ~

15 out of 26

Only 11 remain

~~~~

Characters:

The original eight characters have been slightly altered to fit the AU, but still have most of their canon traits intact.

• Caine:

Caine is still the charismatic goofball we all know and love, but with a dash of nervousness, inability to understand human humor, especially Gen Z humor, and hints of newfound irritability. He's practically a fish out of water in most of these game locations, not really capable of self-defense outside of his signature cane, and being a lot more cautious and protective with his fellow members, especially his best friend and guide, Pomni. Caine sometimes acts as the dad friend of the group, not tolerating anyone's BS and trying to maintain order in situations he's absolutely not familiar with at all. When around Pomni, he feels kinda at ease, with their dynamic being akin to SpongeBob and Patrick when working together. Hell, Jax even refers to Caine and Pomni as The Dynamic Duo.

• Bubble:

Still the chaotic, anarchy-loving glutton we all know and love, but with a caring side to him. You see, for as long as Bubble could remember, he had been Caine's sole confidant, being there for him during his toughest battles, from witnessing yet another abstraction, to calming the ringleader down after a nasty panic attack. They're even roommates! (my god, they were roommates) Bubble would totally just go with the flow and not worry too much about having to adapt to an environment completely different than his own. In fact, his masochistic tendencies make the perils more thrilling for him! He'd also act as the mom friend of the bunch, acting as some sort of mediator for when things get too chaotic for his liking. He'll also lend a helping hand if so desired.

•Pomni:

She's still jittery and anxious, but thankfully not as bad as when she first arrived at The Amazing Digital Circus. After several months of dealing with this game's BS, she developed an indifference to her situation as a defense mechanism, and has become something of a voice of reason to the others. Jesters in real life are known for not just providing entertainment and comedic nitpicks to the royal court, but were also considered their royal advisors. Pomni would become Caine's advisor after some constructive criticisms towards him and his methods of keeping the others sane and healthy, and later on his best friend, acting as Bubble's stand in from time to time, providing witty banter and friendly roast sessions with the other circus members. Jax often calls Pomni and Caine “The Dynamic Duo” because of the fact that they share some things in common: both can turn into nervous wrecks during stressful situations, both are hilarious to be around, both want to keep the circus happy and healthy, and both care immensely for the well-being of everyone around them. Rumor has it they're also drinking buddies; but nothing has been confirmed…

• Ragatha:

Still our cheerful and good-natured ragdoll, with big sister/ant tendencies. Her hugs are as soft as they are warm and reassuring. She'd be the one to always look on the bright side, even when surrounded by unfamiliar surroundings, kinda like Ruby Gloom. She still has to keep an eye on Jax and make sure he doesn't get up to no good, but during moments where Ragatha and Jax must work together, there are things they can learn from one another. Ragatha would teach Jax the importance of being kind to others as well as taking time to listen and understand them, while Jax could teach Ragatha how to be more assertive and set proper boundaries, making her less of a passive pushover and more confident in taking care of herself first. Ragatha could also attract animals and have them help around with chores, a la Snow White.

• Jax:

Jax is less of a condescending asshole and more of a Jerk With A Heart Of Gold, becoming Pomni's big brother figure when necessary. Sometimes, he and Pomni would get into comedic hijinks of their own, as regular siblings naturally would, even pulling off harmless pranks. Jax is still snarky as always, but this time, being more genre savvy than the others, taking notes of his surroundings, and apparently has a lot of knowledge about agriculture, which proves useful for one particular road trip location. He'll also go out of his way to give someone a hug if he sense someone is in dire need of one, and will offer helpful advice during his more rare moments of kindness.

• Gangle:

Still the cute and bubbly but also emotional and prone to crying talking theater mask, but with hidden depths. Her love for anime and all things Japan is generally what keeps her going, as well as her love for drawing. Gangle doesn't really contribute much other than trying to be as helpful as possible, especially after finding out she can use her ribbons as a rope! Golly! She is, however, incredibly intelligent, with a knack for math, science, and history, as we come to find out in a road trip location, and can even speak and translate Japanese. When Gangle decides to grow a spine in protecting her friends from harm or bullying (even Jax, surprisingly), her voice has a tendency to change to a more mature and assertive business-like tone (remember that her VA, Marissa Lenti, was once the voice of a high school guidance counselor until… y'know.) to show you that you really shouldn't fuck with her. This causes Jax to rethink picking on Gangle ever again at one point.

• Zooble:

Honestly, not much can be said about Zooble, other than they're mostly apathetic, slightly rude, and snarky, being there cuz they can. They, along with Bubble, kinda just go with the flow, but now has the ability to become awestruck or starstruck by the other circus members’ newfound abilities, including Gangle's rope ribbons. Zooble also takes time to appreciate the little things in life, enjoying the much-needed change of pace the road trip brings. They're basically the emo goth kid in terms of personality, but with layers like an onion. Zooble also acts as the bodyguard of the circus members, somehow discovering her prowess in defensive combat, fueled by the innate desire to protect their loved ones at all costs.

• Kinger:

The oldest surviving member of the circus, Kinger still retains his ability to get startled easily from constantly dissociating, his love for insects and insect collecting, and his knack for building pillow forts. Due to being the oldest, he now acts as the group’s grandpa, with his “back in my day” kind of storytelling, and apparent knowledge of how the digital world works. He also offers some life advice on how to get through even the toughest days, him having lived through it long ago with Queenie’s abstraction, and is noticeably a lot more chipper and compassionate during the road trip. He also becomes braver and more empathetic in one particular road trip location, with him becoming less startled easily over time. He apparently is also a tech genius (in reference to MatPat and finnthepony’s theory on Kinger’s past life as The Amazing Digital Circus’s game dev), having knowledge on how to fix machines and software, as well as acting as the gang's mechanic for the Magical Digital Van.

~~~~

• The Magical Digital Van:

Built by Bubble, Kinger, Val, and Beth, the Magical Digital Van is the main vehicle the circus members use for the road trip, traveling to different destinations and stops along the way. The Van has a cutesy face that pays homage to The Magic School Bus, with her own emotions and reactions, but can only communicate in van noises, horn beeps, and radio music. Yes, the Van is a girl; a lot of vehicles in real life (including ships) are referred to by female pronouns. Kinger especially loves the Van like he would his girlfriend, much to the chagrin of everyone else.

~~~~

• Potential ships(?):

I might be the only one in a sea of Showtime, Bluetooth, and Kingleader, among others on this platform, but I actually do ship Caine x Bubble. When I first saw the pilot, I thought to myself, “yep. These two definitely have chemistry.” I see them as one of those old bickering couples that like to tease each other. They've basically been through thick and thin, gray skies and sunny days, tears of laughter, and everything in between. Also, I'm in love with the idea of Caine just being a tsundere; I find it pretty hilarious to me. And Pomni being the Shipper On Deck in the background. I have a particular fondness for the unusual.

Another ship mentioned here is Jax x Ragatha. Remember The Princess & The Frog where Naveen taught Tiana to relax a little, while Tiana taught Naveen to take life more seriously and work harder to achieve his goals? Well, it's essentially that, like rivals to lovers or something. I love when “opposites attract” is done properly, especially here!

Bluetooth (Moon x Caine) would have been canon in this AU at one point in the past, but now The Moon and Caine are exes (y'all can have exes in fiction btw!). In the past, Caine and Moon dated (and at one point did the deed, *wink wink*), but after the Moon became too clingy and possessive, with a yandere attitude, Caine broke up with her, and Pomni would have helped both the Moon and Caine move on from the breakup, realizing what they had was not healthy. This “adventure”/off-screen episode would be mentioned here and there during the road trip (I want to assume the road trip is like a Season 3 thing, but the show's success might contradict this; oh, well) while Bubble and Caine try to take things slowly.

Hints of Gangle x Zooble (aptly named Google by the masses) can be found, but only in subtext. Zooble makes an in-passing comment on how they find Gangle's assertive voice to be hot at one point.

~~~~

This AU pays homage to… well… A LOT of things that I enjoy watching over the years. It takes a look back on the things I found nostalgic as a kid growing up in the late 2000s and early 2010’s, including things that might also be familiar to other older generations of Gen Z. My most recent fixations (such as Unikitty) can also be found there, including random YouTubers I used to watch all the time, horror movies I grew fond of, some cartoons I still watch, such as Steven Universe, The Loud House, Teen Titans Go of all shows, the DreamWorks and Disney movies I watched as a kid, the older Gen Z memes we're familiar with by now, other video games we used to play all the time, among many others. I also wanted to spice up the variety of the fandom with my own interpretations of the characters, as well as some neat ideas I wanted to share when I conceived them.

With that being said, I hope you enjoyed this summary of my brand new AU idea!

Welcome one and all to

The Amazing Digital Road Trip!

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

I AM NOW THE PROUD OWNER OF A 400-PAGE LONG BOOK OF ACADEMIC ANALYSIS ABOUT MDZS (both the novel and CQL, as well as the wider danmei sphere, internet authorship, fan reactions in both CN and non-CN spheres, and so many more interesting things – there are photos of the contents list below) >:DDDD

I only got it this afternoon so have only read the (quite long?) excerpt available online and pages I came across while flipping through, but everything I've read so far is really interesting and well-written. If you're interested, it's promoted on the blog of @pumpkinpaix, where there are also chapter spotlights with comments from authors of each paper/chapter about them and about MDZS in general (which is how I found out about it, one came up in tumblr's 'based on this tag you follow...' recommendation), as well as FAQs (including where to buy it, though I did link that at the start). Alternatively, all posts about it are in the tag #catching chen qing ling!

I really recommend it, especially if content about MDZS interests you! and I promise I haven't been told to advertise this it's just something so so cool... a collection of academic work about MY FAVOURITE BOOK... and I know people do follow me for meta/analysis so this might be the sort of thing people looking at this blog will be interested in..?

[eclaire-went-bam]

low/no empathy is Minorly Othering in terms of interests (in my experience) because almost everyone i know prefers fiction over nonfiction, because it's more interesting and easier to digest,

but prefer the opposite for the same reasons. nonfiction is MUCH easier for me to parse through. i stress myself out a lot whenever i try to imagine a characters thoughts and feelings, and i end up usually just misunderstanding entirely. oftentimes it's so frustrating i just put a book down and never try reading it again. i understand rhetorical devices, messages, themes, symbolism,,, i understand the book on a technical level when it comes to the artistry of how it's written. but i, for the life of me, in the moment, simply cannot fathom a character's thoughts and feelings

comics are only a little easier bcs they have added help of drawn depictions of thoughts and feeling, but even then it can still be hard. i just can't enjoy the same literature many ppl are into just cus i find textbooks n stuff more easy to read

[ihamtmus]

it's weird how jhope is Right There and he's like the Most Talented Person but some armys just. don't see him. should be studied

[camelspit]

screaming and crying and sobbing HOW HARD is it to credit artists

[purplesaline]

My family used to have two antique Buffalo hides. Not bison, actually Buffalo, that were over 100 years old. No one else in the family wanted them, so now they belong to a local Indigenous public school, along with a 20 year old black bear rug, and that makes me very happy.

Even happier that it took me less than 10 minutes to find a home for them, and a backup, and I still had lots of other folks I could have asked.

[transmasc-tabris]

More screenshots (bonus, managed to find Bull a shirt and don't know how to feel about that)

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[toskarin]

sorry to ask, but can you explain your last post to someone who knows nothing about the musician community youre talking about... it sounds like a really really good post if i just understood it better

this is another one of those posts where I'm transcribing a stream of consciousness, so I'll throw in a courtesy readmore

the musician community, as a whole, is much more segmented than the visual artist community

this leads to good and bad things, but generally it allows for more awareness of one's position and an acknowledgement that the needs of an underground folk artist are going to be different than the needs of a composer who receives a name credit. this means there is always going to be heavy pushback when someone tries to impose ethics downward

one element of this is the inward acknowledgement that the monolithic musician community isn't actually real in a way that isn't really mirrored in the visual artist community. besides making music and navigating the financial (and legal) landscape of that, there is very little that intrinsically unites musicians

this acknowledgement allows discussions about concerns among poorer musicians to exist without being completely shut down by someone who has different concerns, because they're not seen as the subject of the discussion unless they are respectfully contributing to it

one big reason for this being possible is that musicians are less respected than visual artists in the professional world

that might sound absurd if you only know of one landscape, but think of how many game (and movie, and tv, and etc. etc. etc.) franchises with identity-defining composers go on to swap out the composer at the first sign of a labour dispute, to very little protest as long as the quality of music isn't seen as dropping

hell, if someone else can copy your style satisfactorily, there's often no fuss at all! this leads to a pretty violent disillusionment with your place in the creative world

even beyond that, there exists an entire industry based around creating a parasitic body of IP landlordism for anyone whose music isn't attached to another product. the musician is, in a way that is deeply and thoroughly beaten into them, a labourer

the visual artist community (until recently) didn't tend to have this disillusionment, so it often follows the sway of its most popular and established members

in fact, the modern visual artist community as a broad cultural body is carved almost entirely from social media discussions that treat the community as one entity. accordingly, becoming established basically requires participation in this online entity

to further poison the well, the position of a visual artist is regularly talked about in spiritual terms rather than labour terms. there is something special that makes you a visual artist. it's the exact mentality that people rightfully made fun of in those ordinary people vs creative people comics. it's the unspoken cultural assumption that natural talent exists, even if most people would deny believing in it if put into explicit terms

while this does feel very good, it means that acknowledging labour-originated conflicts of interest is a bit rude

when a community unites itself around a spiritual core, it can't properly assert "your experiences are not applicable to what is being discussed and you should not be imposing yourself" because, by all metrics, an artist is a fundamentally unique demographic that can speak in all conversations about art

it's a warped form of anti-gatekeeping, a one-way gate through which you can strike down at other poor artists, but not up, enforced from below and framed as a desire for openness

the visual artist community's relative homogenisation of popular consensus is, on the whole, very very very bad for what it does to its norms. it hashes out and legislates within itself with an unspoken assumption that its most prolific members are simply further along the artist lifecycle, and therefore the most trustworthy

discussions with direct parallels ("is it okay to be obviously influenced by someone else's style?") come to much hazier conclusions which lean towards the opinions held by people with the most followers

most egregiously, this manifested in how visual artists react to piracy

the past ten years (in large part because of patreon making viable the paywalling of material behind a regular subscription) have been consumed by arguments about piracy that all seem to terminate in the assumption that piracy is theft, with little stratification of opinion between the hobbyist and professional scenes on this matter

this assumed spiritual core of the community is felt strongly in every conversation. look at the difference in attitudes around the distribution of cracked VSTs and the distribution of brush packs. hell, even on the corporate level, look at the difference in attitudes around pirating DAWs vs visual art programs

even when people are implying an approval of piracy, they find ways to frame it from a position of revenge on a company for something wrong it did, because they still need to conform to the community understanding of piracy as theft

individual visual artists can be (and often are!) more conscious of this stuff, but even then, people react with shock when these visual artists aren't horribly concerned about the possibility of their paywalled work existing on a torrent site

in a word, if you can see the ways these conversation spaces are different and similar, it's all so exhausting

[la7ma-mafrooma]

I wanted to share something personal because I don't think a lot of you understand the influence of the West and its atrocities on an Arab child's upbringing. English is not my first language; I learnt it initially due to my interest in the language and Western cultures. However, seeing the true face of the West motivated me to continue learning the language to dismantle the false image of Arabs and Muslims which was portrayed by the West. I also talk about how this impacted my standing with the Palestinian cause. Bear with me as this post is long and a little messy, but I need to try and give everyone a clear and full image as much as I can.

I grew up consuming Western media due to my fascination with the English language. However I noticed the lack of Muslim and Arab representation.

When I started seeing representation later on, it was mostly Arabs and Muslims being depicted as 'terrorists' and 'barbarics'.

When a Muslim woman is depicted, she is depicted as 'oppressed' and in need of 'saving'.

I was on social media starting from a very young age. Seeing people online describe my people as 'terrorists' was not only scary, but also confusing. Why am I as an Arab Muslim child -who's living a normal childhood as everyone else- being labelled as a 'terrorist' by the West? Why are people claiming all Arab and Muslim children are trained to use guns by ISIS or/and Hamas? I remember asking my parents as a kid "Is this a real gun with the police officer?" Because I only saw weapons in movies.

I asked questions such as "Why do they think Arabs = Muslims?" The lack of acknowledgment of Christian and Jewish Arabs and non-Arab Muslims confused me.

Why were Muslim women always 'oppressed' in these movies and TV shows I saw? This is not as common as they make it seem. Why are they using the struggle of some Muslim women to demonize an entire religion? Why are they pretending to be saviours when they're actually contributing to further oppression of Muslim women? Why are they weaponizing the awful struggle of some Muslim women against the vast majority of Muslim women? (White feminism is not saving us. It's actually a form of oppression of Muslim women)

Misrepresentation bothered me and made me angry and disappointed. I couldn't finish watching a movie or an episode of a TV show if I saw any mentions of Muslims or/and Arabs, because I knew what would happen next.

When it comes to the Palestinian cause, every Arab grew up watching endless footage of Palestinians being brutally murdered LIVE. Everything and all the footage all of you are surprised to see during this genocide, were a part of our upbringing.

When I was a kid I stumbled upon a newspaper in the house with a headline about a Palestinian father who returned to his house and found all his children shot. And I remember the image very well. The father was holding a prayer mat with people holding him as he broke down on his knees. His dead children were on the floor next to each other. Seeing this image of children my age murdered by the Israeli occupation shocked me. I remember my parents having to hide the newspaper from me because of the impact this image had on me.

I had to start reading into politics at a young age, and I realized that everything that Western media was trying to portray about the West being 'civilized' was a lie. How can you be civilized if you're a murderer or/and contribute to the murder of the innocent?

When I learnt about the history of imperialism, colonialism, slavery,...etc. growing up, I recognized the pattern that colonialists use and I saw that the colonizers of yesterday, are the same as today, except Western media is doing a great job covering for them nowadays, and a lot of people only started noticing that recently.

The West seemed fascinating to me as a child, but after seeing the horrendous false images that're being portrayed of my people in the West, all of my fascination turned into anger and motivation to fight against it.

The real terrorists in the world are not the brown and bearded men, veiled women, or the innocent children. The real terrorists are the ones who set the stage for the murder of innocent people, the exploitation of their resources, using propaganda and painting an image of the innocent that cannot be more false and racist, and the fascists that put on a 'civilized' mask.

I will forever stand with my Palestinian brothers and sisters. I will forever defend my Arab and Muslim brothers and sisters, and I won't give room to any misrepresentation. Enough is enough.

Edit: I wanted to add that growing up, I was scared of telling people about where I'm from, my religion, and what language I speak due to the microaggression and discrimination I was subjected to. Not to mention the amount of times I saw on the news Arabs or/and Muslims getting killed in Western countries (aka hate crimes).

[districtsof-treason]

.

[neos127]

enha boys + variety shows

synopsis. headcanons in which your group along with enhypen are on a variety show together and fans seem to notice the connection between you and one specific member… genre. fluff pairing. enhypen boys x idol!fem!reader notes. if there are typos…they’re not there then!!

lee heeseung

being the oldest of the group along with heeseung, you were both paired together when playing the whisper challenge. heeseung tried to contain the smile on his face when he sat across from you, knowing that all the cameras on you both could pick up his reaction. it was cute to see you so flustered while trying to guess what word heeseung was trying to tell her. you would never let the boy know, but constantly looking at his lips made your stomach twist and you wished you could kiss him at the moment. sometimes you would zone out, missing what heeseung was trying to say because you were too distracted by his face. your members would laugh while you put your face in your hands in embarrassment.

your clips with him went viral on twitter later for how intimate your eye contact with him was and how you seemed to be doing the ‘triangle method’ with your eyes. heeseung texted that night you after seeing the posts— the notification made you shriek and drop your phone.

park jay

your group was featured on enhypen’s en-o’ clock episode for a game of mafia. it got intense quickly with everyone yelling and accusing each other. the chaos was amusing but in the midst of it, you were the calmest one. jay became suspicious of you, believing that you were the mafia since you had barley contributed to the conversation. when you locked eyes with jay, you smirked, causing the boy to blush a bit. he was sure that you were the mafia and got all of the boys to vote for you when the time came. turns out— you were simply a villager and the mafia actually ended up being sunghoon. you wanted to throw people off, it was funny that way. especially jay who seemed to react the way you wanted him too. it was fun to tease him and watch him become all flustered.

engenes and [your group fandom name] freak out over the interactions between you two. you’re described as being very flirty towards jay while he looks at you as if you hung all the stars in the sky. so much for being subtle…oops…

sim jake

since your group only debuted a year ago, you had not yet been subjected to the classic haunted house game. when the company finally set one up, your group was paired with you brother group, enhypen. you and jake were paired together for the challenge which made the boy excited yet nervous. he had a huge crush on you ever since he first saw you in the company building, preparing for your debut. when the two of you started the challenge to go through the abandoned building and look for clues, you were immediately jump-scared. you swore jake screamed louder than you did. he grabbed you hand and immediately pulled you away, running in the opposite direction. jake wanted to seem more tough and have a vibe of ‘i’ll protect you’ but he was sure he already ruined that. the whole challenge basically consisted of the two of you screaming, grabbing onto each other and falling all over the place. but you wouldn’t have done it with anyone else.

fans on twitter were obsessed with the chemistry between you two. the way you conversed and bickered as if you were life long friends was something they adored. and the light touches and lingering gazes that suggested more than friends was immediately pointed out and analyzed like crazy.

park sunghoon

being paired with sunghoon for the heart flutter challenge was nerve wracking to say the least. you were positive that the boy knew about your feelings, and he would definitely be taking advantage of it. once the cat ears were on your head, they began to move slightly only by you looking at sunghoon. he laughed and your heart raced because of his pretty smile. it was obvious that he was making you flustered and your group mates could be heard teasing you in the background. you tried to defend yourself and make sunghoon flustered as well, but it was hard to without seeming overly flirty.

on twitter everyone is talking about how much you were blushing around sunghoon. while it was a bit embarrassing for you, it was worth it to see all the shipping comments and videos.

kim sunoo

your group and enhypen did a special weekly idol video together. you both had back to back comebacks to promote and fans loved seeing the two groups interact so the company decided to do something about that. you felt nervous being there especially since you had the biggest crush on one of the members, sunoo. you tried not to look at him too much, scared that the camera would capture your lovesick stare. what you didn’t catch was sunoo staring at you as well, a small smile on his face whenever you talked. he thought you were adorable, and he could tell that you were slightly nervous which made you even cuter to him.

later that night when you’re scrolling on twitter, you see a bunch of screenshots, videos and even edits of you and sunoo. everyone is talking about how the two of you looked and smiled at each other the whole vid. some people tried to deny it, saying that you guys were just being friendly. but it was obvious that the stares were anything but friendly.

yang jungwon

your group along with enhypen were on a variety show together. being considered their ‘sister’ group, you were paired up for a lot of activities together. one of the challenges in this show was random play dance. being the main dancer, you knew a lot of different group choreographies and were able to execute them well. being a secret enhypen fan, you were able to dance to their songs perfectly which caught jungwon’s attention. his eyes sparkled as he watched you, feeling flustered from seeing a pretty girl perfectly execute his group’s choreography. when ‘bite me’ came on, he immediately joined you, making all of the members yell out in surprise. one person wolf whistled (jungwon swears it was ni-ki).

enegenes go absolutely insane over the two of you dancing to ‘bite me’ together. everyone used to call the two of you ‘siblings’ considering that you were both young leaders and main dancers. but after seeing the way you looked at each other, people decided that it was a little too intense for ‘siblings’.

nishimura riki

being the maknaes of the group, you and riki were paired together for the telepathy challenge. the both of you stood back to back, headphones on so you couldn’t hear each other’s movements. your groups members would hold up a sign in front of you and riki that said the same word or phrase and if you could both make the same move or action, you would get a point. you and riki proved not to be very telepathic considering that all of your moves were different. that was until you both had to act out the word ‘dance’ and started doing the ‘sweet venom’ head move at the same time. both of your groups yelled out in excitement, causing you and riki to turn around and give each other high fives.

one clip of you two went viral where riki holds onto your hand a bit too long during your celebration, his eyes only trained on your face. when the boy sees it he feels extremely flustered, but he sends the clip to you with a winking emoji, hoping to send a subtle message.

©neos127