#i need more sweater vests......
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what’s your favourite outfit that you have? and what’s your go-to outfit when you are just going out for some quick errands?
my go to outfit is always some slacks a t-shirt and a sweater (i have favourites ofc and then home sweaters that I don't wear out) and the black coat i got on sale one year abd it's been a staple ever since. (it's thin but with a thick sweater it's ok in the winter) and i also have a black sweater vest with a bold red text embroidery? that's been my fave recently
my fave outfit actually might be my sweater vest paired with black slacks and black platform boots. (and a black coat that is too thin for the winter 😔) i wish i had a black turtleneck to put under the vest tho i think that would complete the look
#i am super basic actually and i know i tend to go for comfort first so I don't buy anything that has a weird material or cut#i need more sweater vests......
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A complete panic knit for my friend. I started to think about what would happen if we had another 18° winter and so pumped out this hardy, if unpractical, sweater. It’s non-superwash wool, but I figure it’s better to have as an option on a really cold day than not. I finished it off with some little bone buttons that I love so much.
#Aran sweater#Melissa leapman#cable knit#cables#knitblr#baby knits#knitting#knit sweater#I only have a few more of those bone buttons and I need to source some more through my button resale#they’re the perfect size and very strong. I have them on my hobbiton vest.#beige#my crafts
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First pass at designs for a WxS soul eater au (more info here)
#project sekai#wonderlands x showtime#tsukasa tenma#emu otori#rui & emu r technically here but not enough to tag them#my art#a large part of me is tempted to just draw them in stuff closer to their casual clothes. which would be more in line w the SE aesthetic#hmmm I’ll think on that. SE-ifying their casual outfits maybe.#the issue is tsukasa would look like a fucking nerd. maka can rock the sweater vest bc she has a sick coat#and also because she IS a nerd. tsukasa just dresses formally.#+ imo rui still needs to be based on his performing outfits.#what I’m saying is the designs will change. bc I’m bad at character design I need to work on it more.
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Dedicating this weekend to fall-ifying my apartment and wardrobe so help me god
#i haven’t thrifted a good haul in AGES#it’s killing me inside#i need more long skirts#i need turtlenecks#i need boots#i need sweater vests#i need it all!
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also i think i planned out all the sweaters i want to make next year. at the very least, i have 8 planned. 6 for me 1 for jenni and 1 for jiwon
#yarn orders will be both tricky and expensive#i want to order all the istex at the same time but im planning to make 3 istex sweaters so itll cost a bit. but ordering them all#together will save on shipping#i also need to order like. $300 worth of malabrigo rasta for jenni's sweater and one of mine. LOL. so#that might be something i buy in the summer of next year#and thennn i also need to buy some hand dyed yarn on etsy and some superwash of some kind for jiwon's sweater#honestly jiwon's sweater will probably be craftstore yarn it'll probably be lionbrand woolease#bc for him it needs to be machine washable for now#and there's one more 'sweater' (vest) i have planned that i havent thought about yarn for yet#but yeah. thats that so far#the anne sweater test knit doesnt count as being on next year's docket tho okay. its this year#t
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that is one button up per day of week and also an extra in case you spill something on one of them...
You're so right....
#everyone needs two hawaiian shirts and a third brightly colored shortsleeve pattered shirt that stands out more than forms of vegetation#both a mens and a womens plain white dress shirt#(womens for layering with sweatshirts and sweaters as it's a lighter material and a button up#while a mens will have a button down collar and can be worn with ties as well as 95% of the time being a proper oxford cotton#so you can wear it on its own without it being fucking transparent)#a more whimsical dress shirt#a silky longsleeve for strictly formal occasions#(It's a deep green with a black rose silhouette pattern and I'm obsessed with it#I've been wearing it slightly unbuttoned with a black knit vest but I could also wear it as just a blouse but a necklace would be mandatory#[Or just with a tie I guess]#and Michael Afton#Tbh I'm not sure if that's enough one of those is kinda hard to work into the weekly lineup even as a backup :/#Y'know it's awkward to be underdressed but it's even worse to be overdressed#and the silky shirt exceeds the formality bounds of business casual even for like church clothes so idk man
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not gonna lie I'm very sad I didn't make any of my Halloween-aesthetic outfits into real outfits last year. SO. I'm gonna do some cutesy lovecore-mixed-with-other-stuff fits for Valentine's Day/February in general. I have eight (8) whole ideas so hopefully I can get at least one of em realized by the end of the month. Maybe my first photo post will be a Valentine's outfit! I can dream....
#speaking tag#valentines day#I'm mostly-aro and not interested in amatonormative stuff...#but Valentine's Day is so cute guys#I NEED to live my lovecore dreams lol#the outfit ideas are (in case anyone reads my tags and wants a teaser):#a simple cute kidcore-ish fit with face stickers and a custom shirt#a more glam-rock fit with cool (clip-on) earrings#a sort of. classy?? masc fit with a sweater vest#a pretty femme lovecore fit making use of a pink turtleneck I never really wear#a super trashy high-femme look with a new(thrifted) skirt I bought#a sorta punk-inspired fit#a scenecore fit#and (and this is the most ambitious) a lovecore clown idea!!
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Me & my mom: listening to jazz My mom: it’s kinda neat how your great grandma met her husband at a dance club Me, who has known this fact since I was 5, just now realizing that dance clubs in nyc in the late 30s were playing jazz when they met: huh.. yea
#twitter archive#jul 2021#it'll be a while later by the time this gets posted but im queuing it the same week i went to her memorial service...#she lived to be 104 and a half#and idk i teared up a little at the thought that i still enjoy the same sort of music she did when she was younger#i never had the same hobbies as her she was really into yarn work#she made us all sweaters and vests and dresses and hats and mittens and scarves as kids#she tried to teach me how to crochet TWICE and i still never got the hang of it#she also liked baking i remember baking an apple pie with her once#but that's also not something i do all too much#and she'd go on really long walks every day... a mile every day until she was 102!#i've always thought about doing that and i've had brief spurts of it every now and then but i never quite got into the habit#she liked wine but i dont drink#and i know i don't need to have things in common with my family or ppl i love but idk#maybe i should listen to more sinatra he was her favorite and i do like his songs
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i bought a skein of merino wool yarn for an in-progress project but it turned out not to match the existing yarn SO now I have fancy schmancy dark red yarn! but what do i use it for????????????????
#send help this yarn is beautiful from like an indie dyer and is like slightly gradiated but not too much#and it was a dash pricey but if i needed to buy like One More skein or two i could for a project#it's thin enough to learn to knit but do i wanna waste beautiful yarn on my first knitting attempts?#and id have to buy knitting needles too smh#i could nalbind something? ive been meaning to try spiral nalbinding a pair of mittens it looks so cool!#but again high flop potential and nalbinding does NOT unravel it would have to be cut off and thrown away#obviously not ideal for swanky yarn#tunisian crochet sounds like a lot of fun ive been watching tutorials#would have to buy needles for it tho#and also im already working on a scarf that's what it was originally for#im nalbinding a scarf#so its not ideal to start a new one#but ive tried to crochet a sweater before and run out of time/steam/yarn so a vest might be perfect#and i could give it to my sister#or make mittens for myself or my sister or somebody#what do i dooo#mio.txt#id have to find a crochet mitten pattern tho ive never made#i have a contender or two but idk if im sold
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Hey. If any of my followers are Jewish. 1. Happy Hanukkah. 2. Begging for help. I'm not but my sister is and she invited my family to go to her synagogue's Hanukkah service tonight. Did not occur to me to ask what the fuck to wear. On the one hand. Church clothes? But also we were raised Catholic and I'm not sure if what I would consider church clothes is too much yaknow? I'm probably way overthinking this but like. Autism, social rules, etc.
#I'm thinking like.#i have a white skirt and blue sweater vest#maybe if i tossed a white shirt with that??#is that too much???#not enough??#ive only been to a service with her once and it was a shabbat service and i dont know if i need to be more dressed up this time
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Cosplay is such an expensive hobby and i don't go to enough cons or post any pictures online why do i do this to myself i just really like sewing sdhgjkfdnh
#Maybe I'll post some pictures when i go home for the winter dshjgkndfh#but what if people HATE them lmfao dshgjkndfh#the one time i shared my mimi people seemed to enjoy it qwq#ALSO WHEN I DO GO TO CONS NO ONE EVER RECOGNIZES ME LMFAO DSGJIFDH#This is because I have only done Kris (recognized. chapter 2 literally just came out)#Noelle (It was bad and last minute. no one knew who i was and also it was a christmas themed con and i couldn't find a good sweater vest so#Fucking. Randy Hapukurk (Surprisingly did get recognized by like one guy and it was my 1st time cosplaying so it caught me off guard dshjgk#Uuuuuh and Mimi (SURPRISINGLY I got recognized a LOT at that con which was SHOCKING) maybe i do get recognized more often than not-#Anyways next con I'm going to I'm doing Peach because I cannot keep my hands off a sewing machine ^^#I am like. begging my roommates to come to me if they need any sewing help cause seeing them work on cosplays is gonna make me want to too
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spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹
“Spencer, are you dead?”
Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up.
“Spencer,” you say more sharply.
His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers.
“Make you some tea.”
“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward.
You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks.
There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too.
“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.”
“How do you know that?” he asks.
You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?”
Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place.
“Close your eyes,” you murmur.
Spencer shuts them.
“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.”
Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness.
“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.
“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.”
“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.”
“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.”
Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day.
“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.”
You take them. Your breath draws near.
A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair.
He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask.
Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile.
“Did that help?” you ask.
You must mean the tea. “I feel better.”
“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?”
Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut.
“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur.
Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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the mid 20s transmasc experience is thinking you had a crush on your music teacher in highschool but realizing a decade later that you really just wanted his fashion sense
#in a related note i need more dress shirts and pants#also sweater vests but thats a wholly me thing luke never wore those
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!!PLEASE READ END MESSAGE BEFORE REBLOGGING!!
So guess who got a big break from their projects and was also informed about Clowns boundaries? <XD Me!!
I was super cautious to draw fanart of these characters at first.. But after getting some informative comments (thank you guys!) and thinking it though.. I don't think any of my artwork would cross a line. So here I am! And BOY do I have a lot of experimenting to do on these partial redesigns.
I'm sure you've noticed Sally is bright blue and very spikey. I was going for a young blue star look, but now that I'm looking at it.. ehh,, blue might not be her color, idk. Also her cool glow effect took so long to draw that I only drew it on 1 canvas. So definitely gotta think of a better way to draw her glow.. Barnaby needs some work too. I don't like how his fur patches came out. They look spray painted on.. Also Frank's vest and Sally's sweater took AGES to draw. I either need to find a faster way to draw them or just redesign them all together. Same with Poppys feathers, they took forever to color-- aaaa
ANYWAY, you guys get the point XDD First time drawing these guys to the fullest and my interpretations need some work. But I hope you like these drawings none the less!
Also important note!!
To avoid any potential drama or uncomfy stuff, please only tag this post as the individual characters, and "Welcome home arg" No other tags of any kind. No ships, canon or not- No exceptions. Just avoid any and all potential problems by tagging simply. Individual characters and the series name. This would be very much appreciated and would encourage me to come back and draw more Welcome Home stuff. Thanks you guys! <:)
#welcome home arg#wally darling#julie joyful#barnaby b beagle#frank frankly#poppy partridge#howdy pillar#eddie dear#sally starlet
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The Profile of Attraction
Summary: Spencer tries to give you a profile at a club, you think he's the unsub.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: being at a club, reader wears a dress
Word count: 1.8k
a/n: just thinking about when this happened on the show lolol
main masterlist
The pulsating lights of the club made it hard to focus, and the blaring music didn’t help either. You were still standing at the bar, sipping your drink when a tall man approached you, his demeanor commanding your attention. He had an air of authority, and despite the casual setting, you could tell he was someone serious.
“Excuse me,” he said, leaning in closer so you could hear him. “I need to ask if you’ve seen someone. Tall guy, kinda lanky, doesn’t really look like he belongs in a place like this. Probably acting a little out of place, maybe observing more than participating?”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to piece it together, but before you could respond, the man added, “I’m Derek Morgan. I’m with the FBI.”
Your eyes widened at that. The FBI? What kind of trouble was happening here?
“Um, actually, yeah,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the back of the room. “I was literally just talking to someone who fits that description a minute ago. He was being really weird, talking about how out of place everyone looked, making these, like, really specific observations.”
Morgan’s expression shifted slightly, his previously casual demeanor now replaced by a more urgent tone. "Can you show me?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room with growing intensity.
"Yeah, of course," you replied, your concern deepening. The uncomfortable feeling you’d had while talking to that man earlier now seemed more significant. You led Derek through the crowd, weaving between people dancing and chatting, trying to pinpoint where you had last seen him. Your heart pounded a little faster as you approached the area, your nerves heightened by the seriousness of the situation.
“There!” you finally said, spotting the man who had given you the creeps. He was standing awkwardly near the bar, wearing a sweater vest, completely out of place in the pulsating, lively atmosphere of the club.
Derek’s eyes zeroed in on the man, and without hesitation, he moved quickly, his expression focused and anxious, ready to make an arrest. But then, he paused abruptly, seeing the direction you were pointing in. He shot you a puzzled look. "Wait, sweetheart, can you be more specific?"
You nodded firmly, pointing again. "That one! The guy in the sweater vest."
Morgan's lips twitched, barely containing a laugh as he realized who you were referring to. He glanced at you, amusement dancing in his eyes, but he managed to keep it together. "Alright, come on." He guided you over as he approached the man, clearly trying to maintain his composure.
"Hey, man," Morgan called out as you both neared the guy in question. "This lady says you were freaking her out."
The man spun around immediately, his eyes wide with panic and hands raised in a gesture of apology. He looked utterly mortified. "What? I’m so sorry! I was just trying to give you the profile," he blurted out, his face flushed.
That was when Morgan lost it. He couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore, doubling over slightly as he slapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. "She thought you were the unsub, Reid!"
"The what?" you asked, feeling completely lost as you looked between the two men.
Still chuckling, Derek took a moment to catch his breath before turning back to you. "The unsub. It’s what we call the unknown subject of an investigation—the bad guy. But turns out, this guy," he gestured to Spencer, "is not the criminal you’re looking for. He’s just an FBI agent with a bit of a… let’s say, unique approach."
Spencer stood there, still red-faced, looking both embarrassed and apologetic. "I didn’t mean to freak you out. I was just, uh, trying to give you the profile."
You couldn’t help but laugh, though you were still a little embarrassed yourself. "So, you’re with the FBI too?"
Spencer nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, I didn’t mean to come off... creepy."
Morgan laughed harder, shaking his head. "Man, you’ve gotta work on your delivery, Reid."
You couldn’t help but join in the laughter, realizing how absurd the whole situation was. "Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you being a serial killer then."
Spencer cracked a small, awkward smile, clearly relieved. "No, definitely not."
Derek noticed the way Spencer’s eyes glazed over, the telltale sign that only ever appeared when he was around someone he found particularly striking. Sensing an opportunity, Derek decided to throw him a bone, a playful grin forming on his face. “Alright… why don’t you try giving the profile again,” he said with a wink, “and I’ll go talk to more people, see what I can find out.”
Before Spencer could respond, Derek patted him on the back and walked off, leaving the two of you standing there. You glanced at Spencer, who looked momentarily flustered as if he didn’t expect to be left alone so quickly. He cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet awkwardly.
“Why did you think I was the unsub?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and lingering embarrassment. He peered at you, still a little baffled but trying to understand how you’d come to that conclusion.
You laughed softly, shaking your head, suddenly feeling a bit silly about it all. “I don’t know! You were just… standing there, kind of observing people without really interacting, and when you came over to me and started analyzing everyone, it just felt really... weird,” you admitted, feeling the flush rise to your cheeks. “I guess I got a little freaked out.”
Spencer blinked, and for a moment, his analytical brain kicked in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He looked genuinely apologetic, shifting his weight. “I was just profiling the crowd. I do it out of habit, honestly. I should’ve realized how it might come across.”
You gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really. It’s just not everyday you meet an FBI agent at a club giving a profile on random people.”
Spencer smiled awkwardly, clearly relieved that you weren’t holding it against him. “I suppose it’s not the most typical introduction.”
You tilted your head, curious now that the initial misunderstanding had passed. “So, what was the profile you were giving me? You started but then… well, things got sidetracked.”
Spencer perked up at that, his eyes lighting up as he shifted into his more comfortable mode—explaining things. “Well, based on the way people are interacting here, you can tell who’s a regular and who’s not. For instance, you don’t seem like someone who comes to clubs often—your drink choice suggests you were looking for something familiar and safe, which indicates you might feel slightly out of place here.” He paused, glancing at your expression to make sure he wasn’t overstepping again.
You nodded, amused. “Okay, not bad. Go on.”
Spencer adjusted his sweater vest slightly, taking your encouragement as permission to continue. “And the way you were standing when I first approached, you were slightly turned away from the crowd, keeping an eye on the exit. It suggested you were a bit anxious, maybe uncomfortable with the environment.”
You blinked, impressed by how accurate his observations were. “Wow, you really don’t miss much, do you?”
He smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s kind of my job.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I really didn’t mean to scare you, though. I just... tend to see patterns in everything, even in social settings like this.”
You found yourself warming up to his awkward charm. “Well, next time, maybe lead with something a little less intense, like… ‘Hi, I’m ….’” You teased lightly.
Spencer chuckled softly, his gaze meeting yours with more confidence now. “Spencer. Noted. I’ll work on my introductions.”
"Spencer," you grinned, your voice taking on a playful tone, "Can I get your number? You know, in case I find myself in any trouble?"
Spencer felt the air shift around him, and his mouth suddenly went dry as he realized the flirtation in your voice. His mind raced to come up with a response, but then his eyes fell, almost involuntarily, to your dress. The fabric clung to you, sheer in just the right places, accentuating the lines of your figure. The asymmetry of the hemline added a touch of elegance, while the sheerness of the material hinted at something far more daring.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. His brain was calculating, running through statistics and social cues, but nothing was helping him navigate this unexpected situation.
"I, uh…" Spencer stammered, clearly flustered. "You—you'd probably be safer not relying on me for protection." He managed a nervous laugh, though his eyes quickly darted back up to your face, struggling not to get distracted again by the provocative dress you were wearing.
You tilted your head, your grin widening. "Oh, I don't know, Spencer," you teased. "Something tells me you'd be more helpful than you're letting on." You let the words hang in the air, your gaze holding his as you patiently awaited his next move.
Spencer's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well... in case of any trouble, I suppose you could use a direct line," he finally said, fumbling with his phone as he handed it over to you, trying not to think too hard about how flustered he'd become.
“And I’ll be able to reach you this way?” you asked, your fingers brushing against his as you took the phone from his hand. There was a playful challenge in your voice, one that had Spencer nearly frozen in place.
He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, you will,” he replied, his voice slightly strained but still soft. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, as if he were trying to process the situation, but his thoughts were clearly scattered.
“Great,” you said, your lips curving into a smile that held the promise of mischief. You tapped in your number and handed the phone back to him, your fingers again briefly grazing his. “I’ll be calling, Spencer.”
His name on your lips seemed to hang in the air, and Spencer, despite his usually sharp and quick mind, could only manage a nod, his heart racing in his chest. He watched you with wide eyes, both intrigued and unnerved by the way you carried yourself with such ease, your confidence weaving a spell that left him slightly off balance.
As you turned to walk away, your dress catching the light just right, Spencer stood there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, already wondering what he’d say if and when you did decide to call.
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#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#bau team#criminal minds fandom#bau family#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#bau x reader#bau
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insp by this right here, by @septicsoldier13. thank you for the prompt lovely! :))
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They were short on bills this month.
Logan's shitty job at some scummy bar didn't exactly leave him rolling in cash (not to mention the seventy dollars he was docked for drinking the supply), Wade hadn't made all that much in commission, and Al's disability cheque didn't stretch far.
Rent was covered, so was water and electric, but that left heat unpaid.
Logan figured it wouldn't be a big deal. It was July- and there was a pretty intense heatwave hitting the city currently. They likely wouldn't need the heat for the next month anyway.
The apartment was chilled, but it wasn't cold by any means, which was why he was confused when he got home one evening and Wade was walking around making dinner with a blanket draped over his shoulders, and what looked to be two sweaters on, alongside thick sweatpants.
Logan was sweating just looking at him.
"I know you're pissed I got docked the alcohol money, but aren't you overplaying it a little, bub?"
Wade jumped at his voice, clearly not hearing him enter. The blanket dropped to the kitchen floor, and the merc looked mildly embarrassed.
"I was... cold," he said quietly, and it was... odd. There was no jokes, none of the usual outrageous comebacks, and Wade was just staring at the blanket now crumpled on the floor, almost with a fucking longing expression, and Logan would admit that often the idiots jokes flew right over his head (he wasn't exactly caught up with the last fifty years of media), but he really didn't get this one.
"You were cold? It's not hot in here but it's not cold," Logan pointed out, pretty much over Wade's dramatics.
He'd had a long shift at work, split up about four fights, kicked three people out and chased two couples trying to fuck in the filthy bathroom all between making stupid drinks as his own fingers itched for alcohol.
All to say, he really didn't have the energy for whatever dumb joke this was a part of.
"You're gonna give yourself heatstroke, and you look fucking ridiculous," he deadpanned, and Wade shrugs, doesn't say anything, which makes something heavy settle in Logan's gut.
Whatever, not his problem, right?
He left to go shower.
//
Wade had stripped down into sweats and a single sweater by the time they retire to the couch.
Logan is in his vest and flannel pyjama pants, and he's warm, but he doesn't mention Wade's layers this time.
The TV is on, some shitty episode of some shitty reality show Wade insists he has to watch, and Logan's focusing on it, until he's not.
His attention wanders over to the merc sat on the other end of the couch. It's not uncommon, Logan tends to spend more time watching Wade react to whatever dumb shit is on rather than watch it himself, for reasons he doesn't have the energy to analyse.
Somethings wrong.
Because Wade isn't watching the TV either. His eyes are distant, staring at the floor, and he's shivering violently, teeth practically chattering as he curls in on himself, knees hugged to his chest, and it's like he's...
"You're cold," Logan concludes aloud, but this time the words hold no frustration, because he'd seen Wade be committed to jokes before - but never on this scale. It's not a joke, or some sort of prank at Logan's expense.
Wade nods, and Logan is up and crouching in front of him immediately, sticking a hand against his forehead. Wade practically leans into his body's warmth, shuddering, and jesus christ - the mercs skin is like ice.
"The hell? Are you sick? Can you even get sick?" Logan touched the exposed skin of Wade's wrist, and sure enough - it was freezing.
Wade laughed softly, "I'm always sick, it's just... another side effect," he explained, and it took Logan a minute to recall what the cause of Wade's scars was. The cancer.
"But... your mutation, that stupid programme, I thought it cured you," Logan frowned.
"Not... cured. Just sort of put it on the back burner. It can't kill me, because my body is constantly regenerating the cells it kills, but it's there, and sometimes the symptoms hit a bit harder than usual," Wade explained, looking self conscious, as if this was something Logan would mock him for.
"Why the fuck didn't you say something when we sacrificed the heating this month?"
"We needed it the least-"
"I would've found a fuckin' way if I knew you'd suffer! I'm going straight down there tomorrow, I'll use my tip money to pay it," Logan stated, and Wade's eyes widened.
"No, peanut, you're saving that up for your motorcycle-"
"Fuck that, I'm not having you be uncomfortable in your own home," Logan huffed, "now wait here," he tossed a blanket from the chair over to Wade, then headed to their bedroom.
He headed to Wade's set of drawers first, but pivoted to his own. His hoodies were bigger - more fabric, more warmth, right? Definitely. He didn't just want to see Wade wrapped up in his clothes. That would be fucking dumb, because he wasn't a thirteen year old girl with a school crush.
He grabbed the obnoxiously pink Hello Kitty blanket from their bed too, and then stuck into Al's drawers and grabbed the hot water bottle she used when her back was giving her a hard time. He grabbed one of her heating pads from the medication cupboard too, making a note to buy her some more the next time he did their grocery run.
A few minutes later, items in hand and hot water bottle sufficiently warmed, he reentered the living room.
Wade had the blanket over his lap, but Logan could still see the slight tremble of his shoulders, as much as he was now trying to hide it.
His stomach twisted with guilt for his earlier words.
Logan sat beside him, "lift you're shirt up, just for a minute," he ordered as he opened the heat pad.
"At least buy me dinner first, or I'll kiss and tell. Who am I kidding? If we kiss I'm definitely telling, I'll go on the local news-" Wade's usual tirade of rambling was somewhat comforting, not that Logan would ever tell him that, but even so it's usual flow was lost behind the chattering of teeth.
"Wade," Logan interrupted, trying for exasperated but knowing he probably fell a bit short, "Shirt up, bub," he repeated.
Wade still looked hesitant, staring at him like he'd lost his mind, and Logan sighed, grabbing the hem of the sweater and doing it himself, using his other hand to stick the heat pad on.
"What are you- oh," Wade shivered again, arching his back a little into the heat source.
It only took a second for Logan to reboot his brain, and he quickly dropped Wade's shirt.
"Here," he shoved the hoodie, blanket, and hot water bottle into his lap, and Wade stared at the collection, and the tiny tug of a smile made Logan's heart jump a little in his chest.
"Awh peanut, you're the sweetest," he gushed, and it was supposed to be a tease, he knew that, but there was also something genuine there.
"Just warm yourself up," Logan muttered in response, avoiding his gaze.
He returned back to his seat, occasionally glancing over to Wade. The merc settle back down, both blankets wrapped around him, drowning in Logan's hoodie, the hot water bottle hugged to his chest.
He looked... cute, his nose and eyes visible beneathe the layered cocoon.
Logan did go back to focusing on the show, but he didn't stop his sideways glances, and it didn't take long to notice Wade was still shivering a little.
"Are you still cold?"
"No-"
"Wade," Logan warned, practically growled in his direction, and the younger man sighed.
"It's not... I know I shouldn't be, it's just... weird. It's like it's embedded into my fucking bones, I can't..." Wade trailed off, and he sounded miserable.
"Just come here, you dumbass," Logan said, rushing the words out before he could change his mind.
And if Wade looked at him like he was crazy earlier, now he was regarding him as if he'd grown a second head.
"You've done more than enough, Lo. I just need to get my shit together-"
It wasn't up for debate, and Logan wasn't fucking debating it. He grabbed Wade and yanked him closer, earning a yelp of surprise.
He made quick work of pulling him in close, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and dragging him into his body heat.
"Logan, you really don't need to-"
"Shut up and watch the TV," Logan grumbled, staring pointedly at the screen as to not meet the eyes burning holes into him currently.
Wade did give in eventually. He snuggled down into Logans side, head resting on his shoulder and a sweater-pawed hand coming up to lay on his chest. Logan wrapped an arm around his waist in response, tugging him impossibly closer.
Wade did stop shivering, eventually, and there was a mumbled 'thank you' against his neck.
Logan just squeezed his waist in acknowledgement, and neither made a move to separate.
//
The next time, Logan didn't need Wade to say a damn thing.
It wasn't the bills going unpaid this time, either, because Logan prioritised heat as much as he did the base rent when working out their money these days, and had even spent some of his spare cash on an overly loud but functional portable heater as the weather grew colder.
(Of course Wade's favourite method of warming up remained... him, but Logan really had no qualms with that. He found himself almost a bit jealous when Wade opted for the heater before himself, usually when he was busy, and Logan found himself purposefully dropping whatever he was doing to sit on the couch and drag Wade up against him. He absolutely did not glare at a portable heater, because that would be insane.)
No, this time they'd been invited to a Christmas night out alongside the X-men.
Logan had been reluctant to go, still not all that comfortable seeing the team after previously seeing them all... but Wade had begged, and pleaded, because apparently this was a yearly thing and he'd never been invited before.
That alone had only served to piss Logan off more, but Wade had been so excited - and so he sacrificed their quiet night in for a pub crawl around the city.
He'd already caught Wade shivering a few times in the warmth of their apartment that day, but the merc was quick to deny it, likely thinking (and accurately so) that Logan wasn't going to let him go if he thought he was having a bad day in terms of maintaining his body heat.
He'd watched Wade dress with a frown, "at least stick a shirt on under your sweater. You not got any clean sweats you can wear? Those jeans are too thin," Logan had lectured, and Wade had pouted in that way that typically spelt trouble for the older mutant.
"I don't wanna look stupid! Have you seen what I'm working with here? The least I can do is dress nice," Wade gestured to his face, to his scars, and Logan had to bite his tongue to stop himself from immediately jumping on the defence, because he'd probably call Wade gorgeous or something equally as eyebrow raising in the process.
"Fine, but you bring a jacket," he said, and Wade rolled his eyes but agreed.
They'd been out for a couple of hours. The drinks were flowing (Logan had cut himself off at three beers, which was a personal best), and everything was going... oddly well. Logan felt more at ease around the team than he had since he arrived in this universe, and it was nice.
He was talking to Hank, when Scott came over and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Wade's asking for you, Logan," Logan frowned.
Wade had dissapeared a little while ago in order to go dance with Storm, Morph and Jean.
"Where is he?" Logan asked, already on his feet.
"Bathroom. He doesn't look great, dunno if he's had too much to drink," Scott replies, and Logan nods, heavily doubting the explanation.
"Thanks, Scott," he says, before making his way through the crowd and into the bathrooms at the back of the club.
When he enters, Wade is perched against the sinks, shivering violently, his whole body trembling and teeth going so fast he could hear them clinking together. He had his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
"W-won't stop, m' cold," Wade whimpered, the embarrassed flush on his cheeks standing out harshly against his pale palour.
Logan's immediate reaction is one of frustration, "I told you that you needed more layers!"
The scolding only earned a small nod, and a sniffle as Wade looked away.
"I'm sorry, I know. I'm just... gonna go home," he said, pushing up from the sinks to leave, but even his legs were shaking, and when he tried to walk the violent trembles knocked him off balance.
Logan was quick to catch him, wrapping his arms around the merc. Wade leaned into his warmth almost instinctively.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Logan said, but his voice held more concern than anger now, as he steadied Wade on his feet.
He didn't expect the mutant to burst into tears.
Logan didn't do great with tears, especially not when it was somebody he genuinely cared about. He very almost ran out of there, went to grab Jean or Storm or even Hank - anyone who was better at this shit than he was, but he had a feeling Wade wouldn't appreciate anyone seeing him in this state.
Shit, did he even want Logan here right now? He might have asked for him earlier, but he clearly wasn't being much help. He'd made him cry, for fucks sake.
"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, I know I should've listened I just- I wanted to just feel slightly normal for once," Wade cried harder, and Logan found himself pulling the shaking merc into his arms again, tucking him against his chest.
"I'm not mad, bub. I get it, I do. I'm just worried about you," Logan sighed, and God, Wade really was like a block of ice on his hold.
"'M sorry," Wade hiccuped, and Logan shushed him softly.
"It's fine, honest. Let's get you home and warmed up, hm?" Logan suggested, running his hands over Wade's arms in an effort to ease the chill.
"Yeah," Wade agreed tiredly, and Logan guided him out the bar, giving Jean an excuse of Wade not handling his alcohol too great (which was at least somewhat true, because the merc was definitely teetering into the emotional drunk category if his display in the bathroom was anything to go off) and hailed them a cab home.
He helped Wade to the couch, burying him in blankets and setting up the heater directly in front of him. When he turned to leave, a hand escaped from the mountain of fleece to curl around his wrist.
"Cuddles? Please?"
Logan was surprised he didn't turn into a puddle on the spot. It was fucking ridiculous. If anyone else dared to grab him like that, make such a request with big devastated puppy dog eyes, he would've sliced them into three even pieces.
Wade was making him soft. He didn't feel as repulsed by that thought as he probably should've.
"In a minute, bub. Let me go get you some stuff first, alright?"
Wade nodded, letting go reluctantly.
Logan made quick work of gathering the usual. It had become almost a routine at this point.
He made Wade a hot chocolate too, knowing how much the merc adored the sugary drink. He was only making it to warm him up though, obviously.
When he returned, Wade had burrowed completely beneath the blanket pile, and Logan had to immediately shut down the adorable that his unhelpful, traitorous brain supplied.
He put the hot chocolate on the table, and the smell had Wade popping his head out, staring at the drink.
"You made me hot chocolate?"
"Don't get used to it," Logan replied, and shoved a pair of his own sweatpants and his own hoodie against Wade's chest.
"Get these on."
"These are yours y'know," Wade said, running a hand over the sweatpants.
"Yours are dirty," Logan shrugged.
They were. Apart from a black pair at the bottom of his closet, but Logan was prepared to swear under oath that he'd never seen them before in his life.
Wade made quick work of getting changed. Logan turned to face the wall, and while Wade didn't say anything, Logan could feel the assholes smirk.
Once he was done, Logan joined him on the couch, climbing beneathe the layers of blankets despite the fact that he tended to run pretty hot. He could get closer to Wade this way.
He stuck the heat pad on his neck, the hot water bottle against his stomach (Wade's very own one now, with hello kitty sewn onto the cover - early Christmas gift from Logan) and wrapped him up in his arms, until Wade's entire body weight was resting against him, sprawled against his chest.
"Logan?" Wade asked after a while of silence, the only sound being the TV and humming of the heater.
"Hm?"
"You're the best wolverine," Wade said softly, and Logan glanced down at the merc, snuggled against his chest, eyes half lidded. He'd stopped shivering.
"Only for you, bub," he hummed in response, very almost kissing the top of his head, but settling on running a hand through it instead.
Wade made a happy sound, and Logan was just glad no one was around to see the stupid smile it put on his face.
#deadpool#deadclaws#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wade wilson#logan/wade#logan howlett#wade wilson angst#deadclaws fic#poolverine fic#oneshot#fic prompt#mywriting
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