#also im sorry if any math in here is fucked up

[shalomniscient]

Just out of casual curiosity, how easy do you think it is to get a S-Rank in Ptn? (I have a feeling I got really lucky..)

- newcomer

when i was going to write my reply, i thought ptn's s-rank base drop rate was still 1.6% as it was prior, if my memory serves correctly. but then i opened the game to check, it's actually 2% now, which is genuinely fucking insane? comparatively, every hoyo game has a base probability of 0.6% for a 5-star. ptn's base drop rate is around 3 times greater than hoyo's, with a fucking massive 1.4% difference between them. that's actually crazy for a gacha game. other gacha base probabilities are also comparatively low; 0.5% for pgr, 0.8% for wuwa, and 1% for fgo. the only other gacha that i know of with a similar base probability is arknights, which also has a 2% base probability.

so if we look comparatively, it does 'feel' easier to pull s-ranks in ptn compared to other gachas, which is due to the higher base probability. the more you know, huh

[ajdrawshq]

i can almost guarantee ive said it before but. he would thrive in a zero escape game

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all��just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[fanaticsnail]

Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma. 

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others. 

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.” 

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.” 

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness. 

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?” 

Drip. 

Drip.

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you. 

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace. 

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.” 

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.” 

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again. 

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips. 

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?” 

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud. 

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty. 

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture. 

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward. 

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” 

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone. 

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh. 

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

[broken-glass-puppet]

Ok so Miguel request

Whar about Miguel (or basically just the spider team form atsv) x male reader that acts like a jumping spider and kinda look like it too

So the reader is small and very quick in his feet, he can also jump way farther than any of the rest, but he also has the other spider abilities. And I just imagine the reader being an anomaly and accidentally being teleport to HQ and they try to capture him, but he's all skiddish and nervous and just jumps away from them every time. In the end someone manages to calm the reader down (you can decide how, maybe with food or some shit) and the talk to the reader. And the reader just answers in very short very quick answers, and he's still very nervous

Aahhhhhhh I'm sorry I wrote this, this is so long!!! But I hope you do mangage to write it, but no pressure, I don't want to force anything

Okay, im going to use this for my spider sona

Fast and nervous, not good combo

You runned and jumped for...one, two, three...then multiple for two...damn you weren't good with math, but what can you say?! If someone had a lot, and I mean A LOT of Spidermans running after them, they would run too, I mean, they don't look friendly... specially that one with the red and blue suit...a bit more specific?...the one with the talons...so you runned and jumped and...did what a spider would do! You thinked you managed to get them away when suddenly-

"There you are!" Someone grabbed you and tied you to a chair with spider web, it was that man...hmm...tall, tan skin, hooked nose, deep cheeks...is that a Mexican accent? "Now.talk"...you started hyperventilating and squirming and moving "hmm...if you keep moving it will stick to you more chiquito" you looked at him and started breathing slowly

"yo dude, you shouldn't be like that" another voice said, he was...goth? No...Punk? Yeah that kinda looks punk...oh he has a guitar...

"I'll ignore the fact that you just called me 'dude', now...back to you.Name"

"[redacted]"

"where are you-"

"earth [insert here number]"

"how did you-"

"I was in my dimension, in my room and suddenly I saw this big portal and one thing went to another and here am I..."

Miguel sighed, pitching the bridge of his nose "are you always this nervous...?" He said looking at you up and down..."i have to admit...you jump and move really good...you are slippery and quiet..." He said while walking a bit closer to you "I'll untie you...don't you dare try to scape you hear me cariño?" You nodded, he untied you, you got up immediately, oh...oh he's tall...you are kind of small compared to him hehe...you looked around...you looked back at him...and runned away, in part it was for fun...what would he do...he sighed and chased after you...you giggled...this was REAAAAAAALLY fun...he's almost as fast as you!...you runned for...half an hour? And hour?...you stopped and took a deep breath...you looked around.. oh...oh is that...a burger...a bit wouldn't huuuurt...

"coño, where the fuck is-" Miguel cutted his sentence and looked at you devouring the burger, hmm, okay... nervous? Check, fast? Check, jumps a lot? Check, likes food? Check...he walked behind you quietly "boo" he whispered in your ear

You almost dropped your hamburger, you gulped the rest that was in your mouth and looked at him "hey?" Miguel smiled sarcastically "you know what was the only thing I told you not to do?" "Y-yes?" "What was it?" "To not...run?" You said smiling nervously "yes, and what did you do?" You looked at him nervously "I runned?" He smiled sweetly but it was a sarcastic smile "exactly...now..." He tied both your wrists and putting you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes...food thing you finished your hamburger...

He went to his...office? Would you even call it that...he sat in a chair near by and sighed, you still in his arms..."look kid-" "don't call me that, it's weird" "why would it-" "I'm sitting in your lap and you call me kid?" He looked at you and sighed "okay, what should I call you" "[nickname]"..."okay okay...now [nickname], will you let me finish a sentence for Once?" "Yes..." "I want you to join me" "after you chased me all over here?! Yeah, no" he chuckled seeing that you were refusing "feisty one...i like that..." You couldn't help but smile at that

Oh boy, you two were going to be REAAAAAAALLY close

Please i loved this type of reader, please z person who requested it, please use this type of reader, i want to see more of him

[wonjnz]

some zb1 members as confessions i’ve received

₊˚⊹ genre: fluff | wc: —

₊˚⊹ warning(s): swearing | inspo: —

₊˚⊹ a/n: i found my notes rating these and i got this.. i changed like a detail or two to fit the scenario and member (+ no WAYY im writing it exactly how it happened 😭😭😭) this only includes yujin and gunwook for now!

not fully proofread yet!

you promised yourself that you’ll listen to class this time, but it seemed yujin had other plans instead.

“what?” you say exasperatedly as yujin keeps poking your arm with his pencil for the nth time, you don’t notice yujin’s slight smile as you’re too busy answering the textbook activity your teacher assigned. “shouldn’t you be answering too?”

“yeah, but i’m bored.” you roll your eyes at his response, “and you’re gonna be begging for the answers at what, two in the morning?” yujin chuckles at your prediction, to be fair he wasn’t in the mood in answering some math exercises at all, especially when you’re around.

but you don’t seem to budge right now to his frustration, he wanted your attention to be on him for the whole period, not on some dumb math questions. you could do that later, anyway. and that’s when he thinks of the perfect idea:

“hey,” he starts off.

“you wanna know who’s my crush?” yujin says, you perked up at the thought of finding out about such top information. and finally you have something to tease yujin about that’s not about him sleeping in class. yujin tries his best to hide his grin, perfect.

you put down your pencil, “who?” to which yujin hovers his hand over your own textbook, writing ‘you.’ with his god-awful handwriting. it took you at least twenty seconds as if it was some code that needed to be deciphered, when you finally understood you looked up at him surprised.

“really?” yujin nods and grins at you in response, you failed to notice his lightly red tinted cheeks while doing so. “you wanna guess mine too?”

taking your own pencil, you also wrote ‘you!!’ on the edge of his page. yujin’s grin grew even wider especially when you tried erasing it, trying to suppress a giggle as if you just did the most amazing thing ever.

and needless to say, your class was spent trying to hush up each other’s giggling and yujin finally got to bask in your attention for now and the days to come.

“you want ammo?” you hear gunwook’s extreme ass of a mic over your pubg game, you’ve been playing battle royale with him the whole night considering it’s a weekend the next day.

“i’m good,” you say after ransacking another house for loot, you could hear gunwook hum a bit before you start hearing his blasting fan over his mic. “someone’s here by the way, i’ll look for him.” he says, eventually getting a kill.

soon enough, you both won, with gunwook proudly flexing on you about having more than ten kills and saving you from enemies. “you’re lucky i even revived you after getting sniped that bad, if it was gyuvin i’d leave him there.”

“sure man, whatever you say.” you say jokingly, you’re not sure if gunwook got the memo since it became scarily quiet right after. even gunwook’s fan wasn’t heard and his mic could pick up any minuscule sound known.

“you’re cute.”

“..which fucking demon possessed you this time?”

it took a few seconds of silence before gunwook laughs breathlessly, almost as if he’s been holding that for the whole game. “i’m being serious. i didn’t wanna say that a while ago especially when you got sniped that—”

“oh shut up, i could’ve called you cute but i guess nevermind..” you tease, though you regret it right away when gunwook’s mic suddenly exploded with him saying sorry on repeat. you swore your ears rang the whole night ever since.

[sanriokamabodo]

college!bf douma

A/N: im struggling w writers block + had a heavy day so i decided to write smth i conjured up instead of a request!i will be back in business soon my sweets!heehee<3 if y'all want a part two feel free to ask djdjd

CW's: hes kinda sleazy in the beginning, reader sucks at math. suggestive themes>:) douma is goth in my college au bc i said so. the day i proofread is the day i die!

A psychology major with a minor in religious studies. Doesn't practice any religion himself but finds the subject interesting nevertheless.

Barely studies but somehow manages to pass with flying colours.

That one hookup you regret with all your might, let me elaborate;

Douma tutors math and it's no coincidence he slept with majority of the people he tutored.

No, you're not an exception. Cute try though!

Something about Douma's piercings, his choppy hair that he probably cut himself and his 'don't give a fuck' attitude managed to dissolve your IQ and last bit of self respect around him.

He knows how to give you just enough attention to keep you interested, but little enough for you to purposely screw up your math tests for an excuse to see him.

Yes, he mocked your intelligence by asking if rats ate your brain or whether you were just born this stupid, but the way he ruffled your hair as he fake-pouted at you made something bubble in your stomach.

It's no surprise you ended up with Douma in the men's restroom, a hand smacked tightly over your mouth that day.

You weren't allowed to ride the high of having hooked up with the hottest guy on campus for long.

Throughout the night you were bombarded with messages from your friends, all of them being about Douma. Why didn't you tell them? Was he good? ... Was he big?

You thought your heart was going to thump out of your chest. Sweaty hands refreshing the messages five, ten, twenty times.

This had to be a sick joke, right? Was this Douma's true nature?

About to throw your phone away in defeat, it vibrated once more. You didn't want to look but curiousity got the better of you.

[Douma, 11:06]: I think we need to talk.

Your chest thundered with anger at the message.

[Y/n, 11:07]: You think!?

[Douma, 11.07]: I know you don't owe me anything, but can we please meet somewhere?

[Y/n, 11.08]: I don't feel like showing my face today, thanks:)

We're you being dramatic? Maybe a little. But you were an introverted person. Being known by everyone on campus wasn't on your to-do list, and the reason why just made it that much worse.

[Douma, 11.08]: Text me your adress, I'm coming over.

[Y/n, 11.09]: No.

[Douma, 11.10]: Please, give me a chance to set things straight. I'll fix it, I promise.

You pondered for a moment. Fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You texted him the address of your dorm and within an hour you heard a knock on your door.

Opening the door Douma stood on your doorstep, looking rather apologetic. You waved him inside, a thankful smile grazed his lips.

"I like what you did with the place."

"Shut up."

"Fair enough." He nodded.

"So..?"

"I did tell my friends we hooked up." He said, making you scoff. He threw his hands up defensively, before you could say anything.

"But! But! I didn't want them to tell everybody else..! They know I like you... a lot."

A small blush across up your cheeks at the sudden confession.

"You like me?"

Now you've done it, Douma started rambling.

"I get really fucking dumb about crushes. I wanted to text you all the time but I didn't want to come across as creepy. I thought we could just... hook up and I would forget about my stupid little crush and of course it just made me like you even more, because c'mon you're hot as fuck." He sighs pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. "So what I'm trying to say here is that I would really like to make it up to you because I'm really fucking sorry and I would also really, really like to take you on a date and have a fresh start, please?" A shy smile painted his features.

You laughed. You were stupid if you were to deny him like this, especially considering you really liked him too.

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

[booburt]

Hi, I've been wondering for the photography AU what general time period it's set in, what type of camera(s) does Koby use (it looks like a canon to me but seems to make polaroids, at least that's the surface level observation I can make from my extremely limited knowledge on cameras), what type of photography he personally enjoys and the type he usually does for work (if he does it as his profession too). What does Koby aim to capture with his images, the casual mundane life of an average person, an unreal, etheral sight in a place the average person can't go, Luffy's luffiness, etc? Also what's the general budget Koby has towards camera equipment (doesn't need to be that exact, just a general "he's broke" or "He spends all his money on lenses" would suffice)? My questions are kinda vague here because I'm going to research more about photography later. Thanks in advance :D Oh yeah and also does Koby travel, if not what's the general landscape of his nearby area. You don't need to answer this since I'll probably make it up but it'd be good to know.

okok i wrote this all in the few free periods i got earlier take what you will ^_^

also a doodle i did ages aaaaago with a bit of slightly illegible info in my awful handwriting (sorry)

actual answer vvv

- its a modern au!! so set like. now!

- koby uses sony cameras primarily but yes he does have a few canons (nikon confuses him)

- he has a seperate polaroid camera!!! he usually prints digitally from sd though

- for type of photography, he started with a passion for ocean and landscape photography, mostly beaches and any scene with water in focus. he also has an interest in portraiture but his love for portraiture only comes to play when he meets luffy. cheese cheese cheeeesyyyy because luffy smiles and hes IMMEDIATELY enamoured. anyway, he starts to study and practice portraiture in depth because of the pretty boy he met in maths class and eventually works up the courage to ask him to model for him. they get super close and eventually start dating; luffy likes how dedicated koby is to his work and how cute he is when he blushes.

-SORDY got carried away with the sappy lovey stuff. koby sells his landscape/wildlife photography at local stores as a side hustle thing haha. but he doesnt really do it professionally, he much prefers to keep it as a hobby / simple income.

- koby aims to capture the beauty of colour! he loves vibrancy when shooting with a softbox or some other source of light he will usually use something to change the hue rather than plain old bw on a simple white bg

- following on he HATES shooting black and white photos unless theyre negatives because idk i think he would think it looks cool. what a guy

- with luffy photography he just likes catching luffys smile or just luffy in general; whipped dud!!! he thinks he is gorgeous

- ahahhhh budget budgettt. lenses are fucking EXPENSIVE!!! he uses a 50mm that helmeppo got him for his birthday one year (rich kid stuff. he knew koby likes photography and searched Best Lense For People Pictures and bought the first one he saw) the 50 is canon as consequence so koby uses canon for loofy pics. he has an 18-55mm he uses as well.

- he is broke yes. koby does have a minimum wage weekend job to pay for living expenses but all in all that boys pockets are empty. luffy is the breadwinner (miss rabbit with the one zillion jobs) he works about 4 different jobs and is happy to pay for anything koby wants despite kobys adamant NOs. like i said he gets helmeppo to pay for a bunch of stuff and helmeppo pays on his dads card LOL.

- koby does travel! mainly by train or boat, not often does he go to an entirely different country but he has previously a few times. when he does go abroad he takes luffy with him!!!! (he looks pretty in the snow. he likes taking pictures of him in snow)

IM SO GLAD SOMEONE LIKES MY AU ENOUGH TO ASK ME THIS MANY QUESTIONS LMAO i had fun answering all of this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[i-eat-mold]

this is not a request and it is not about mold (i’m so sorry). i was just scrolling through your posts because they’re so fun, and i saw that you’re a bio major! i was just wondering what you were planning to do with that degree after college? i hope this doesn’t sound judgmental at all, im actually just curious! im a college student too and i love hearing about peoples plans (if you have no future aspirations career-wise and are just studying what you like or just doing what you gotta do to get a degree thats also a very valid answer)

What up my dude. Of course your ask is welcome here but I can’t guarantee you’re gonna be satisfied with the answer. To be fair I have been extremely depressed for the last few years. I could go on and on about that but there’s no point in dwelling in that rn. When it was time to choose what to do after graduating all I could think of was that I just wanted to do something that didn’t make me want to kill myself more than I already did. And that was biology. Maybe I should have studied engineering or chemistry or math or something useful like my parents told me. But the truth is that I don’t want to die as much now. Depression still lurks and it will and I get my episodes and I get weeks where the sun won’t stop shinning to me and I get my weeks of paralysis and doing really stupid things to cope. But now most days I can brush my teeth, I can get out of bed, I can shower and I can even take the trash out. I’m studying something that I fucking love and it’s still hard to get out of bed but I love attending the lectures and even studying. Do you know how much that means to me? Honestly if any of this resonates with any of you out there, specially younger folk who are terrified by their own mental illness, it gets better. Listen to me, it really does, you have to live through to see it. You can do what you need to survive. I won’t judge you. People love you.

Also I fucking love bugs that’s why. Maybe I’ll get into research or biochemistry or if I’m really really lucky I can do marine field work and sail around

All that said I’m so happy that you like my blog! I love sharing the little worms in my brain with you all silly little gay people inside my phone

[ohbo-ohno]

babygirl bo <3 I have some Qs to which I beg you provide some As (I need me some of that deep bo lore)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

babygirl lumi i love you so much. you're welcome to any lore you want

🍄 does puppy play count as a hc? because i write ghost calling soap "pup" as a kink thing but i also very much so think he'd just Do that.

if that doesn't count, then i'll say that one hc i swear by is that ghost is a freak but soap is 10x freakier and he's into literally every conceivable abuse ghost tries to commit agaisnt him.

also i think soap is suuuper smart but in a really specific way - can't spell for shit, but that man can rattle off college level math like it's nothing

🥤 is SUCH a good ask because now i can rec my fav cod x readers <3 (i know it says fic or author singular but you're getting multiple fics in place of me trying to tag authors and inevitably forgetting someone)

cod fics (but not the people i usually link because this post is already too long):

Baby Blue by kechiwrites (ghost x reader)

Taste by Sweet Deciet (ghost x soap x reader)

The Hand That Feeds by anonymous (ghost x soap)

Hypnotized (Fuck It) by ANTchan (ghost x soap)

Where Moonlight Meets the Sea by MildLimerence (ghost x soap)

Not More Than Once by WhisperedWords12 (ghost x soap)

NOT cod fics, but one for a few fandoms i love:

Declensions by dustorange is THE dick grayson origin fic. if there's one fanfic i wish i had written, it would be this

the first step of kintsugi by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup is a peter parker & frank castle fic and im not sure it'll ever be finished but it is just. god it is perfect and probably my favorite fic of all time

anything by cupcakemolotov is gonna hit like no other for klaus mikaelson/caroline forbes. i love her so so much like she is my IDOL

ALL MOUTH. by themilkteeth is like the epitome of what a good darklina fic is. it's soooooosososo good i want it injected into my veins

the Blood Apron series by sciencefictioness is a great overwatch fic, but you really don't need to know the characters to enjoy the story! another one that'll never get added to, but i love it a lot

🥐 i don't like the lotr movies but there's a moment in the first (?) one where aragorn (?) is singing to himself and frodo (?) asks "who is this lady you sing of?" and for some reason i literally cannot watch it without keeling over in laughter. it's so fucking stupid

🪲 ohhhh we have beef for this one. i hate you a teeny tiny bit for making me write (/j). added it below the cut!

ok quick edit here but. i thought that said 500 words so uh. sorry but there's 500 words here instead of 50 lmfao. im a fool!!!!!

ghost x soap (cw for (legal) age gap)

He takes another look at the kid, now that he’s not planning on throwing him off the property. He’s got a bit of bulk, probably just recently started working out, and there’s a cocky energy coming off of him. Ghost would bet this is far from the first time he’s robbed someone with this little ruse, probably thinks he’s the smartest burglar in town. Too bad he chose the wrong man to try and trick this time.

Ghost straightens from the doorway, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. The kid isn’t short by any means, but compared to Simon he’s practically little. Odds are he’s still got some growing to do, but for now Simon gets to enjoy the way he can loom over the teenager.

“No one ever taught you to respect your elders, boy?”

Oh, the kid doesn’t like that one. If he were a dog, his hackles would be fully raised, but he’s left settling for curling his lip back in a snarl. “You think just cause you’re old I have to respect you?”

“I think you’ll respect me because you’re on my property. That and I don’t think you’ll like what happens if you keep the attitude up.”

The kid flushes, either from rage or the innuendo. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think just because we’re out here alone you can say whatever you want to me?”

“Of course not. We’re out here all alone, which means I can do whatever I want to you. And I will, if you don’t get off my property.”

The kid looks him up and down, then visibly steels himself. Ghost bites back a smirk. He’s not used to being underestimated, but he finds he doesn’t mind when it means getting to see the kid play at being his equal.

“What do you think you’ll do if I don’t go?”

Oh, Ghost can’t wait to beat the attitude out of the little brat.

He doesn’t let the kid see how much the rudeness is getting to him, intentionally keeping his face flat and unimpressed. “What’s your name, kid?”

That permanent scowl doesn’t shift, even as a flash of confusion crosses his face. “...John.”

Ghost nods. “Alright, Johnny, if you don’t get off my property, I’ll take you over my knee and teach you what your daddy should’ve.”

It’s nearly impossible to keep from grinning when Johnny’s mouth pops open in surprise, the flush creeping further up his neck. “You- you’ll- who do you think- you can’t-”

Ghost reaches out like he might slap Johnny, instead snaps right in front of his nose, sharp and loud. “Spit it out, boy. I don’t feel like listening to a kid learn how to speak all night.”

Johnny’s letting himself get worked up, and not doing a good job of hiding it. His teeth grind and he shifts from foot to foot, like he’d like to try and attack Ghost. He’s apparently smart enough to know how idiotic that would be, and Simon finds he’s almost disappointed.

[cybersp4c3]

HOLU FUCK IM COOKING (Pun not intended, also the inspo is from the nun scara art someone posted here,)

It was the weeks right before winters cold, the somewhat warmth in the cool breeze made the warm oranges and yellow of fallen leaves fly like the birds in the sky. In the moments before the lone nun left his church, the stars that shine through the bright colors of the stained glass to him felt like shame. Each shine of the star burned his skin like holy water on a sinner. He dropped to his knees like rain on a rising flooded sea, he's a sinner. He knows it, his faith weaker than his desires. He knows that his church have found his love letters to his unknown lover, which it most cases would be a seen as a gift from God. Treating love like glass from the passion between a man and a women, but there's the problem. Our dear Scaramouche, in love with another man. He looks into the blessed water In front of him, his sinful tears almost staining the holy water that sat before him. Now, understand, he's not crying because he's losing his church. He's crying because he may not hear from his lover again. So, after a final prayer and standing on his shaking legs and grabs anything he can, clothes, food, fresh water, and any medication he believes he needs and rushes off. Taking his lovers letters and left to who knows where? Blessed be our cowardly pathetic fool and his want for love, a "man" reborn, May God be with him.

After miles of walking he's developed a somewhat considering routine. He finds himself in a bar, seduces the man, take his money and run and try to never see that man again. However, with this last man of he little scheme was, unknowingly the same man that he left his old life for, like a fool. Or a whore.

His name is Taurus, tall, strong man. Many scars on his arms and his face, a worthy fighter and lover. He's quiet and calm but also passionate, when he saw our dear Scaramouche his heart fell into his hand, and his 'friend' had to be covered up. And Scara knew this and took this and ran with it. Pathetically falling into his big strong arms, acting like he could barely stand.

"I-Im so sorry sir, im new to town and I was stuck in that storm and need a place to stay." He said, weakly as he held the man. "You may stay with me in my home, it not many ways away but, what's a beautiful doll like yourself doing at this shabby bar?" Taurus responded, handing him his jacket and holding him closely as they walked out the bar and walking to his home, through a few woods. They got a long as well as they did during those love letters, and once they got to Taurus's home. They had they're fun. Scara was bent over, his unknown lovers cock filled him in ways any man hadn't done before, Taurus was trying his best not to cum as quick as he wanted, he was tight or maybe he was just hung? We'll never know, As he fucked him, Scara desires flooded his mind. To be bred, to become a mother and have children for as long as she could. As she was riding her mans cock, he held her small tits, kissing and sucking on her nippies like she could leak milk. The hours following was 'pure' bliss, though, as Scara dreamed about his new live with the man, he missed a detail. I wonder what that patch of demonic skin on Taurus's means. Ill add another part that's mainly smut later but I needed this idea out of my brain but spoiler, corruption + cock drunk + hung demon man = Sex slave I think idk I'm bad at math -🛁

This is so hot chop chop story boy

[mattslolita]

okayyy basically first period we had religious studies an cuz im just soo smart i got like 84 out of 96 on my christianity and islam paper. 😇we did the test before the holidays an they gave the results back ONLY now 😒 anyway thats completly irelevant... 🤣 but we hav a new seating plan AGAINNN and i sit next to my boyfriend woooo!! but.. he kept saying he was sleepy cuz he slept for 3 hours only. so he kept leaning on me and my teacher kept tellin him to get off of me 😭

then 2nd i cant even remeber what we had but the teacher gave him a detention cuz he had trainers on instead of "school schoes" LMAO! but the thing is they literally nike air forces like, jus got a logo an its an issue? same style shoes from fucking idk KICKERS 😭 would be PERFECTLEY fine! he was also in a bad mood cuz he dint sleep 😤 so he was arguin with him and ended up gettin taken out the class.. they srsly worry bout the stupidest things but things like bullying or EVEN racism r just IGNORED!!!!! for example one of my friends wears a hijab and theres this old ass teacher whos jewish (not an issue but it needs to be said for my point!)who keeps giving her dirty looks and saying things in arabic to her but she dont understand it? one boy who can understand him once said he told her she was "going to hell" and "following the wrong religion". LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUALLL FUCK? hes disgusting!!! hes also... got an israel flag in his classroom? like hows that even allowed? not even the point that i support palestine. its the fact theyre allowed to hav that in their room and its not an issue? cuz things like fucking voting for a new prime minister was kept secret by teachers cuz apparently they dont want "to influence us" but thats okay and wont influence ANYONE???? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE? yuckkk

then last period we had maths and my bf kept complaining that his head was hurtin and cuz the schl wont let u go to the ofice to get paracetamol or any medication during lesons, we bring our own.. (which SUPRISEEE!! is not allowed) and i went to give him one and this fucking bitch comes up to me and says that i should not be bringing that to school, who knows if that actually medicine, and that ill need to go the head teacher to explain y i decided do that as it was unsafe. 🤣 like 3 years ago they sent my friend home for taking paracetamol at schl cuz they thought he was gonna overdose? uhhh he had 1? 1!!!!!!! LMAO! he had a HEADACHE!! i said i wasnt going bc i dint actually DO anything and we would just waste time for literally no reason.. ofc she didnt like that and said i was talking back an being disrespectufl. i went but the head teacher kinda likes me so she said it was okay but i shouldnt do it again and i said i wouldnt (absolutle fucking lie) then when i came bakck my boyfriend took his water bottle and said to me "ive got vodka in here" and i said "thought u said u stopped all that" as A JOKE! bc i know he obviously DOES NOT hav vodka in his bottle LMAO. but this teacher was like "well now i need to smell it to see if ur being serious" he started laughing an got sent out 😭 its actually becoming an issue atp LOLL.

ughhh cant wait to leaveeee!!!!! and SORRY its SO LONG 🫢

good job on ur religions test love !! so proud of you 🫶

here they go messing w ur bf again😭😫 AND UNT UNT THAT TEACHER MESSING WITH UR ARABIC FRIEND ??? HE'LL REALLY CATCH THESE HANDS CAUSE YOU NOT FINNA GIVE POOKIE DIRTY LOOKS & TALK SHIT THE FUCK ?? AND HES A FUCKING ISRAEL SUPPORTER WHAT THE FUCK.

ur school is weird as fuck, like the rules & shit don't make no sense to me. anyone should be allowed to go to the medical office if their feeling sick or just not feeling well like wdf ??

[walnutcookie]

tell me your headcanons for mac n cheese and cheddar RIGHT NOW!! /nf /silly

HI THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK AGSJDBDKFBSKRB /GEN THIS MAKESME SO HAPPY ,,,,

i think that if i were to go in depth about my headcanons and lore for them this post would be a bit long so heres some of the simpler ones X]

links lead to drawings ive made relating to my headcanons 👍

Cheddar Cheese

• cheddar is very. VERY tall. like 6'9" (funny number). Makes it worse because sometimes they like to wear heels

• uses all pronouns but mainly they/them :3 male/female honorifics

• a lesbian. Question mark ? still debating

• rogueforts cousin!!! Survived the blue cheese manor fire (which happened when it was just a teen)

• related to above if you know anything about my roguefort lore they grew up in a Not so great rich snobby family!! they were buxton blue cheeses child which makes cheesecake their sister as well. Dont ask where the accent came from let me have this JZVDKFBDK

• intersex and bigender - when growing up they were forced to fit into either "boy" or "girl" and didnt exactly fit either stereotype biologically or through their behavior so their parents were very frustrated with them. Turns out theyre both!!!

• it started as a joke because of ratatouille but. i am a firm believer in ratmouse cheddar. are they a rat? is he a mouse? both? Neither? no matter what they hide ears under their hat and paws under her gloves and a rat tail under their coat because i think its fun💥💥they should have rat/mouse features as a treat

• they have legs that are way too thin and not at all proportinate to tjeir body. i cannot stand drawing them because of this.

• resting :3 face

• very much cursed (it would take a few posts to explain this one)

• whatever this is

Macaroni

• shorter than cheddar but still on the taller side!! 5'11"

• uses he/him pronouns but he doesnt really care what pronouns are used on him. fem honorifics or anything he doesnt mind that either

• amab and genderfae :] (basically genderfluid without the masc part of the spectrum)

• lesbian

• older sister of my oc maccy cheese cookie (who was made before mac and cheddar were introduced HXBFJ). macaroni is 6 years older than them

• parents just Straight up abandoned him and his sibling as kids!! i could explain this one further but probably in another post

• it may be hard to believe but he is older than cheddar

• CANNOT STAND unsolved mysteries. having unsolved cases or puzzles makes him physically ill and he cant stand to eat or sleep when he doesnt know the solution

• related to above he despises cliffhangers and surprises and if he cant read a mystery novel in one full sitting it will EAT HIM ALIVE

• also related. Loves math! fun little puzzles that (almost) always have one logical solution. he does NOT however like math problems with multiple/no solutions

• easily startled by sudden loud noises or actions

• a lil chubby!!

• he has a little macaroni tail. sorry

as for my mac n cheese (ship) headcanons,, i cant explain them very well without context to my Full lore for the two but heres my attempt HVDKFB

• started as INCREDIBLY one sided (cheddar had romantic feelings for mac while mac had feelings of. Hatred)

• cheddar is incredibly easy to fluster because shes not used to being on the Recieving end of affection (cough cough for curse reasons cough)

• cheddar is also incredibly touch starved (cough cough for curse reasons cough)

• macaroni can just. Use cheddar as a bed. they are so fucking tall and wide he can just snooze on them

• they are so doomed toxictragic yuricore im going to kill them

YAAY thats all ill do for now but if anyone has any further questions i would love to answer

rbs ok!!!

[bingobongobonko]

Hi Bingo! I just wanted to say that I've been lurking and looking at your art for your lancer campaign for a while now and I think it's so cool! You've kinda inspired me to check out the system for myself too! I hope it's not too much trouble/making you retread anything you've talked about before, but I'd be really interested to hear your thoughts on the system and how it's worked out for your campaign! I really love mecha stuff, but I think the genre can be pretty rife with militarism that I'm not super into. I get the sense though that you've been able to find a good way to slot these really cool characters into the setting and focus on their interactions while also getting the fun of that sweet sweet mech combat. My inquiry is very low stakes haha, so nw if you don't have time to gather all your thoughts (I know that if I was tasked to talk about my own campaigns my head would burst into flames just trying to sift through what I'd want to say :P) Anyway, just a little friendly wave to you to say your art is very inspirational, and keep up the great work!

OH WOW this is . whuhh. WOW! sorry im like. wtff. i mean i ramble about my characters a lot but i didn't think anyone else actually gave a fuck which is completely ok, i just WHUHH..!!! holy shit. excitement aside, i get where you're coming from. honestly i was never into the mecha genre, but lancer rpg really made me realize how cool it is! like im not a really technical guy, and i feel like lancer is VERY strategy-heavy in combat; unless you know what you're doing and what everything does, you can easily get overwhelmed with all the features and all the things to consider in the math. for me its a lot because i struggle with spatial understanding and any sort of mathematics. that's my only real gripe on the system, but that might also just be every other system as well. it's more of a personal issue than that of the system, my friends all picked it up super quick. as for the genre, yeah, i find militaristic shit a drag and mecha has the same feel to me. its got a layer of professionalism and seriousness i don't enjoy, nor wish to play along with, so i get what you mean yeah. thankfully my friend who dms the campaign is just. Holy fuck; she just has a huuuge extra care for character stories and weaving them into the narrative she explores. so really, its her i've to thank for making mecha stuff FUN for me. lancer can certainly run hand-in-hand with militaristic-focused rp, i was in a oneshot with that sole focus and while it was interesting, without that interesting narrative stuff you kind of lose steam, but ive grown so fond of dog days cuz of how my friend lets our characters develop AND helps them do that. that and the way she sets up the story, just. FUUUUCK. the military is an afterthought in what is a fight against time and para-causality sinking its teeth into what little sanity we have. we fight against something that is a victim and a perpetrator. we're the worst people to be tasked to be saving an entire planet too, but here we are. as cheesy as it is, it's all about who you play with. thats the feel i get about most systems. honestly why im so ehhh about playing with strangers, when i'd rather play with people i like. all systems strike me as more of a tool; its the way you use em yk? the experience you get from them are more reflective of who you're telling a story with (or fighting alongside, there's no right way to play. i just really like narrative storytelling). so really, ive to thank my friends, especially @spaginithethird who introduced me to lancer in the first place as a dm!!!!!!!!!! TO A LOT OF SYSTEMS ACTUALLY shes rlly knowledgeable abt this stuff and very very very sweet too o7 so yeah really, its a really fun system BUT to me, i wouldnt be playing lancer if i didn't have a narrative to go by and follow with people i like. i am always sayin this but its my favorite thing when it comes to ttrpgs

[a-smol-cosplayer]

im back on my ‘contributing to the wednesday/wyler fandom as a whole’ here are some incorrect quotes for y'all :)

Enid: I am SPEECHLESS!! 

Wednesday: *narrating*: despite being speechless she managed to lecture me for the next ten minutes 

/

Wednesday: If you had to separate your bees from 49 other identical bees that were all equally excited to see you, how would you determine which bee was yours?

Eugene: I would take my 50 bees home and live like a king

/

Xavier: who would win a fight, Enid or Tyler?

Wednesday: I cant answer that - Tyler is my boyfriend.

Xavier:  so Enid?

Wednesday: definitely 

/

Yoko: I hate going into the kitchen only to realise im the only snack in the house.

/

Tyler: *drops keys*

Tyler: you’ve got to be key-ding me

/

Enid: MURDER IS NEVER THE ANSWER!!

Tyler: Of course not! Murder is the question 

Wednesday: And the answer is always.

Bianca: All of you are wrong. The answer was 12. This is why you all failed.

/

Wednesday: I would be the worst PR manager ever. My client would be like ‘there are rumours going around that I’m gay and a satanist’ and I would just be like ‘haha awesome!’ 

/

Eugene: drug dealer? No, hug dealer! Come here 

/

Ajax: anyone would be lucky to date me, I was called ‘a pleasure to have in class’ when I was in primary school 

/

Wednesday: in my defence I was left unsupervised 

Enid: weren’t you with Thing?? 

Thing: In my defence I was also left unsupervised 

/

Wednesday: idiotsaywhat

Enid: pardon?

Tyler: sorry?

Bianca: excuse me?

Xavier: what?!?!?

/

Enid: Yoko! Did u know that there is a rumour that you are gay!

Yoko: rumour!?!?! a RUMOUR!?!? U mean people are doubting it!?

/

Enid: can you turn the lights on?

Ajax: I don’t need to, you’re the only light I need in my life.

Enid: Ajax please I cant see.

/

Eugene: I’m a genius, I finished this lego set in 3 days!

Wednesday: so?

Eugene: The box says from 4-7 years

/

Wednesday: we’re so in sync, it’s like we finish each others-

Enid: homework

Wednesday: huh?

Enid, sliding her maths work over in tears: please

/

Enid: you were so drunk at the party last night

Tyler: no I wasn’t

Enid: actually you were

Enid: you called a taxi to take you home

Tyler: so? Thats responsible, I didn’t want to put anyone in danger by drinking and driving

Enid: the party was at your house, Tyler...

/

Enid: if a plant is sad, do other plants photo-sympathise with it?

Yoko: I chlorofeel you man

Bianca, tired as hell at 3am: are you guys fucking serious?

/

Enid: I have a boyfriend now

Wednesday trying to be encouraging: a boyfriend?

Enid: *reflexively does a panicked peace sign*

Wednesday: TWO boyfriends!?!?

/

Bianca: do you have any chicken or pork?

Waitress: no, but we have beef

Bianca: oh, WE have beef, huh? You really wanna fight? Alright, let’s do this. Kent, hold my breadsticks.

/

Enid: I changed all of my passwords to ‘incorrect’ so whenever I forget it, it will tell me, ‘your password is incorrect.’

Yoko: genius

Wednesday, already hacking into all her info: dumbass

/

Tyler: I just hid Wednesdays typewriter so she would hang out with us… how long do you think I have left to live?

Enid: 10

Tyler: 10 what?

Enid: 9

/

Enid at 3am at a sleepover: how do tall people sleep? Wouldn’t their feet go right past the blanket?

Tyler: Enid it’s 3 in the morning

Enid: you can’t sleep?

Tyler: …

Enid: is it the blanket?

/

Tyler: Awe look at you Wednesday, getting romantic with all these candles

Wednesday: first of all, I’m summoning a demon

/

Enid: *stabbing air between Wednesday and Bianca with a butter knife*

Wednesday: what are you doing?

Enid: trying to cut the angry tension between you two

Enid: it isn’t working

/

Tyler: I haven’t been this happy since-

Tyler: 

Tyler: oh, wow. I’ve never been this happy!

Tyler: huh!

Tyler: that’s bad!

/

Tyler: I really wish you would just own up to it when you make a mistake

Wednesday, calmly stirring her coffee: I prEFER it with salt

/

Xavier: *hugs Wednesday*

Wednesday: what are you doing?

Xavier: appreciating the little things in life

Wednesday: bitch

/

*playing scrabble*

Enid: I will put down my ‘A’ to spell ‘A’

Tyler: I will put down my ’T’ to make ‘AT’

Wednesday: and I will add onto your ‘AT’ to make ‘BIOSTRATIGRAPHIC’

Enid: *flips board*

/

Wednesday: What if I pour coffee into my cereal instead of milk?

Tyler, taking the coffee pot as he walks by: what if you don’t.

/

Yoko: Wednesday, someone dropped your manuscript

Wednesday: are you joking? That manuscript is my best friend and I will straight up ASSASSINATE-

Yoko: it was Enid

Wednesday: of course she did never mind then. 

/

Enid: truth or dare?

Wednesday: truth

Enid: how many hours have you slept this week?

Wednesday: uhh, dare

Enid: I dare you to go to sleep

Wednesday: I don’t like this game

/

Tyler: Wednesday Addams could slap me in the face and I’d say thank you

Xavier: i’d say thank you too

/

Bianca: theres a monster underneath my bed and its really ugly

Kent, on the bottom bunk: honestly, fuck you

/

Enid: a Z is just a sideways N

Wednesday, trying to concentrate: can you shut up?

Enid: zo

/

Enid: what are you guys doing?

Kent, Yoko and Ajax: *taking a quiz to see what kind of dog breed they are*

Yoko: important stuff

/

[after the gates mansion gets cleared]

Wednesday: Nothing good will ever happen to me again!

[twelve seconds later]

Wednesday: so far my theory has been confirmed.

/

Wednesday: Tyler annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he has planned for my birthday tomorrow.

Enid: but it isn’t your birthday tomorrow.

Wednesday: But there is something special about watching the colour leave his face as the panic takes over

/

Enid: you were supposed to do something about the rat in your locket

Ajax: I did

Ajax: I named him fluffy. He likes coco pops.

/

Wednesday: my boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss. What should I do?

Bianca: Punch him in the stomach so he doubles over then kiss him.

Enid: tackle him

Yoko: kick him in the shins

Tyler: just ask me to lean down?!?!?

/

Tyler: why would you give a knife to a child?

Wednesday: Enid felt unsafe

Tyler: now I feel unsafe

Wednesday: I’m sorry...

Wednesday: Would u like a knife?

/

Ajax: you’re up early

Literally everyone: ......

Ajax: you never went to sleep did u?

/

Tyler: my criminal record? The only illegal thing I’ve done is absolutely killing it on the dance floor

Tyler: hahaha just kidding, I’ve killed a man

/

Enid: why are you smiling?

Wednesday: what? Can’t I just be happy?

Bianca: Xavier tripped down the stairs

/

Enid and Tyler: You will have a hard time believing this because it never happens but it was a mistake we swear—

Wednesday: A MISTAKE?!? *gestures to the table that is on fire*

/

Bianca: Have you ever been scolded by Enid?

Wednesday: Im not scared of her

Bianca: So thats a no

/

Wednesday *doing something risky* : I am going to do this and not you or god himself can stop me 

Tyler: *Starts typing on his phone*

Wednesday:

Wednesday: ..Tyler 

Tyler:

Wednesday:

Wednesday: *panicking* Tyler what are you doing?!? What have you done?!?!

Tyler: 

Enid: *bursting through the door* wedNESDAY ADDAMS DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL--

//

this ended up being way to long congrats to anyone that made it in the end

[imakeublush]

hey blush!! ive been struggling with the void for a long time now. my exams are going on currently and my math exam is approaching me... i failed in my last math exam, I don't want to fail again but what do i do? affirm for the void or study instead? im so confused rn. im on the brink of tears istg i tried so hard for the void aftwr i failed my examinations so that i could revise my marks but no i had to listen to nagging by my teachers and also got physically and verbally abused by my parents cause i failed plus i had to even attend the extra classes after school. even my classmates look down on me and make fun of my math marks.. i sit alone in the last bench of my class because the only "friend" i had now has a boyfriend and abandoned me.. and i don't even know how to make friends irl. i only have some e besties with whom i share my problems all the time, neither parents nor friends nobody is helping me. im so tired honestly I've been trying so fucking hard but to no avail. i beg you to help me blush please i beg you. only my Tumblr guides are my last hope rn, i try sats every night and tried yoga nidra 6-7 times.. since i share a room with my sibling it's hard to yk perform yoga nidra with earphones cause they are like wtf you doin.. so i have to wait till they go out and everytime i try yoga nidra for 1-2 hrs but i still fail. im very scared of my math exam which is 2 days later I don't want to get abused once again..please show me the way blush i beg you im tired of my life please 💔🙏🏼

hi love, i’m so sorry this is happening to you but i understand what you’re going through. it was the same for me before i manifested everything. honestly i would suggest the lullaby method but it seems like you’re already doing that so persisting is probably the best option unless you want to try this, lucid dreaming. i honestly hate lucid dreaming because it’s a scary experience for me (not in general i just don’t like messing with my dreams and sleep paralysis ect.) but since like you actually need a way out and you’re not manifesting just because, i feel like lucid dreaming is worth it. it’s happened to me and many others without even trying. but i recommend the WBTB technique of you search it up you’ll find some great posts on it. lucid dreaming honestly isn’t that hard and will most likely send you to the void after no more than 2-4 attempts. if you have any questions or need more help i’m always here. and i hope you get out of your situation soon. 🎀💗🧁