#if they were not there i simply would not think the other person was in the wrong and i would still be speaking with them
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you guys do realise that I (and other addicts) are real human people, right? you do realise that addiction is complex and often the result of complex trauma? anyone on the face of the earth could become an addict if they were in an environment that meant that substance use was the most rational/available way to cope. addiction is a disabling illness, and the request to Please Not Be Mean to us is honestly bare minimum
I am not a nebulous force of "anti-love" (whatever the fuck that means), I am a traumatised person who was denied any help or support when I was going through the kinds of things that nobody should ever have to go through. I don't love substances more than I love my loved ones, and it is both hurtful and ridiculous to claim as much. just as much as it would be ridiculous to say that I (someone with chronic fatigue syndrome) "love naps more than I love spending time with my loved ones". simply not how any of this works
nobody is obligated to love an addict or support an addict or even be friends with an addict. but. and you can call me crazy for this. I do think people are obligated to choose to shut the fuck up instead of choosing to go tell an addict that they are incapable of love or of being loved
it's just really fucking frustrating that we live in a world where I grew up being trained to believe that addicts are unloveable. and then I became an addict and I was still told that addicts are unloveable. and I just have to deal with the fact that there are people out there who believe that I don't deserve love, or that my partner is brave for loving me, or that my family and friends are suffering just from me existing. and that's fine that's just the way it is
but then on top of that. I have to deal with tumblr users telling me (an addict!!!) that they hate addicts in a cool new way that I should be totally sympathetic towards. see, they had a family member who was the most evil person on the planet! and that family member was an addict! so they can't help the fact that they now want all addicts to die! they can't help it! blast them all.
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Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.
As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.
People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.
With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.
Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.
I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.
TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.
#needed to get this off my chest#I just dont know why people watch media with complex characters and messages if they aren't prepared to think about it all critically#like that's literally what makes it engaging#okay I'll return to my hole now#arcane#arcane s2#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#caitlyn kiramman#cw grief#cw family death#cw murder
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Hi, for the ask game you’re making
Glass cuts deepest
🖼️ Museum
🍁 Autumn
💐 Care
🎃 Jealousy
😬 Semi-public sex
🍓 Sexual tension
Congratulations on the milestone 😊!
The Art of Body
[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]
[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]
[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]
A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.
Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]
______
"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.
He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.
Women.
The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.
He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.
When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.
He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.
When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.
He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.
"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.
Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.
He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.
"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.
Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.
He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.
He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.
He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.
He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.
Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?
He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.
"Let's go." He said finally.
It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.
He felt he could rely on her.
When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.
The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.
His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.
"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.
He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.
He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.
He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.
I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.
He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.
He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.
He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.
"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.
He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.
"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.
She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.
He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.
He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.
"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"
"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."
"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.
What did she mean?
"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.
He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.
He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.
When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.
Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.
He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.
"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.
"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.
He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.
They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.
"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.
"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.
He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.
He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.
He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.
He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.
"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.
All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.
The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.
Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.
"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.
The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.
Why hadn't he done this before?
They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.
"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.
"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.
Just a little longer.
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell fanfic#aemond fanfic#dark aemond smut#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#modern aemond angst#dark modern aemond#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targeryen angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond angst#hotd angst#hotd smut#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond#aemond one eye#aemond#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond x female
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Why are you okay with them continuing what has been an ineffective and in many cases failed attempt to bully the left into voting for a slightly less right wing but still right of center candidate we want an actual left or even true centrist candidate if appealing to centrists and moderate conservatives was a good strategy it would have worked in 2016. Also Hillary paid bots to spam pro-Bernie communities on social media with CSAM right before the nomination was announced and to keep his supporters from organizing because numbers wise a way larger and more vocally passionate number of people were supporting Bernie and instead they try to get us to settle for an entitled elite oligarch offering nothing that he was offering simply by virtue of her not being trump. Two possible candidates were selling out rallies and merch and being immortalized by tattoos and going viral on social media, Bernie and trump. They nominated Hillary because it was “her turn” after losing the nomination in 2008 to Obama she’s an entitled aristocrat who isn’t interested in anything but keeping herself and her people in power. She and Kamala both offered nothing other than the fact that they were not trump, almost like trump was supposed to be some kind of plant to bully people into voting for them and when they lost the election the American people called their bluff twice. The American left is done voting for the slightly less right wing but still right wing candidate. If the democrats want to do anything or any of them want power or to further their careers they have to offer more to the American people. People on the right are excited about trump. You will never beat a candidate with a devoted fan base with a candidate that people are miserably settling for out of harm reduction. If the democrats want voters on the left to support them, they need to offer something more than being the bite of the shit sandwich with the most bread. Also the democrats are doing a sexist gaslighting thing I think it’s called the glass basement? The cement ceiling? I read an article about it forever ago. Right before something crashes and burns they put a woman in power so when it collapses they can blame a woman for it. I’m not saying sexism didn’t play a role in their loss, it absolutely did but the fact that they are putting a woman front and center to offer us absolutely fucking nothing from a corrupt and crumbling party is in itself sexist. The American left wasn’t satisfied with choosing between a threat or absolutely nothing when the right got to have a candidate that they were excited about. We want a left wing trump who is fat and genderqueer and pansexual and substance dependent and black and autistic raised in poverty by a single teen mother with stupid neon hair threatening to make public sodomy mandatory at brunch and restore the American poor to a first world standard of life after composting the oligarchs so we on the left can say “well theyre more extreme than me but I agree with them and they are working in the interests of me and my values” like the right gets to say with trump. If the left wants us to vote for them and give them power they have to give us something we want not just threaten how much worse the other person will be while they are both serving the same agenda. the American public with the internet knows much more about each candidate than our parents generation knew watching 3 major news channels and reading a few cherry picked quotes in the papers, the democrats need to work harder than they did before to get power and like I said the American left is sick of choosing between two right wing parties they are going to have to actually appeal to the rapidly growing left if they want votes from this generation. Also more women CEOs means nothing in improving the daily existence of the female population I don’t need the empty icon of a female president so badly that I’m willing to happily accept a capitalist imperialist genocidal oligarch cop just because her crotch looks more like mine than his.
I voted against trump but I certainly wasn’t happy to vote for Kamala and the democrats have 4 years to come up with a candidate that actually appeals to voters because they won’t be able to threaten us with a sad orange clown next time. Repeating the attempt they failed at in 2016 is their fault not the fault of the voters. It didn’t work the first time. Instead of changing their approach and appealing to the left they did the same thing that already failed. They have nobody but themselves to blame for their loss. They let the American people down not the other way around. Stop licking boot and demand your needs be addressed as a constituent.
Idk guys, maybe people are blaming leftists who refused to vote because of genocide because I literally saw them holding political rallies last weekend in a swing state telling people not to vote
Like it wasn't just tumblr leftists saying not to vote for Kamala, or at all, because of Palestine. Those were real people I walked past last Saturday in Pennsylvania, a key swing state. They had megaphones in front of Philadelphia city hall and a sizeable crowd. I feel like we can, in fact, say they are partly culpable here.
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Astarion prefers monogamy.
Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.
*added note due to misunderstandings.
Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.
So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?
Take..
"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."
And mix that with...
"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"
And add..
"You're you. Nobody is like that."
Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.
Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.
I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.
You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.
Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.
"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."
But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.
Is he? Or is he people pleasing?
If he had said something along the lines of,
"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "
I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.
He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.
Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.
"You were patient. You cared."
Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?
I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."
And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.
Wheeee!
I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.
If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.
So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.
I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.
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— pocky for the malipo ⭑.ᐟ
⟶ ( kinich x gn!reader )
— in which... hey, does this even count as a kiss...?
— speedran this filler post for pocky day + kinch's birthday.. its single day too LMAO the coincidences are simply uncanny ..
— starts out w mualani + kinich for context , fluff !! reader likes sweets,, ...tw... use of the word orbs..
“awwww, c’mon!! it’ll be fun, i promise…”
mualani jumps up and down vigorously, her expression slowly growing more and more dejected. “the traveler told me all about it- this otherworldly tradition, y’know, with those little sweet stick thingies, they even gave me a box! it’d be a reallll big shame to waste ‘em, and wouldn’t it be super cool to do?”
recently, mualani had grown very invested in the idea of some date called “pocky day.” these sorts of random hyperfixtations happened just about every other day, but this time the obsession lasted a linger longer than most, all because of some eavesdropping on the traveler, who offhandedly mentioned it in some conversation… anyway, now that the day itself had arrived, 11/11, she was more excited than ever.
“just onnncee..! pretty please, kinich… xilonen? sharky??” seeing that no one here was willing, except for sharky, who wagged his tail in approval, mualani let out a wail.
kinich stared at her with a tired gaze, sighing slowly. “well, i don’t see how-”
“oHHH my aRCHONS, kinich, how are you so BORING?? when i contracted with this stupid guy, YOU, i thought itd be a little more fun than rotting in a cave ALLL day long but APPARENTLY not!!? live a little uGHHGH, you emo little ‘oooohh look at me im so distant and mysterious’ shut UPPP…” ajaw popped out of nowhere, face red and pixelated hands waving back and forth angrily. “c’mooon, surely you aren’t stupid and blind enough to see that this is the literally PERFECt opportunity to smoochy smoochy kiss kiss that one person you've been OGLING with those big ORBS of yours huh????”
kinich opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. mualani watched with bated breath, squeezing sharky in her hands in anticipation, eyes sparkling, gaze screaming “oh????”.
“...well… i guess… hmph, even someone like ajaw makes a point sometimes, huh…?” kinich coughed into his fist sheepishly, a barely noticeable blush dusting his cheeks. “though, i’m not ‘ogling’ them at all, ajaw- it’s- well, i’m just observing them. for a commission.”
“suuuUUUReeee palllll, whatever you say- YOU REALLY DIDN’T THINK I’D SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DID YOU??? BLABLABLA LALALA I’m RIGHT AHAHAHH THATS RIGHT IM RIGHT IM-”
kinich swatted ajaw out of the air, in the way one would with a buzzing fly. he flew through the air, disappearing into the horizon with a sparkle.
“...ahem. mualani, i’ll be heading out now.” kinich turned around calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed battery. "if i may, could i get one of those ‘pocky’ you were talking about? i’ll repay you.”
"hehe... no need for repayment, just tell me how it goes later!" mualani, smug and beaming, handed over one of the boxes.
..and so the time had come.
"kinich?" glancing up from your work, you flashed him a smile. "what's the matter?"
well, it wasn't as if the saurian hunter didn't see you out often- he did. this little nook you had in the scions of canopy was, as kinich put it, "on the convenient way back" for all of his missions, and so the male found most evenings swinging by (pun intended).
no, him coming wasn't the issue here. but kinich had been uncharacteristically.. avoidant of your gaze. for the past five minutes he had been there, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame like they do in those inazuman light novels, he'd been staring at a crack in the floorboards. and to make matters more concerning, he had something strange in his hands too: some sort of box that he kept flipping around with his fingers.
"hey. kini'. we're both not great at words, so just tell me and get.. well, whatever it is. you wanna say over with." at the mention of his nickname, kinich perked up, clearing his throat.
"ah, that..."
ohh, so there was the problem. the eerily quiet atmosphere was because ajaw wasn't present... pause, now you were even more worried. kinich had somehow gotten ajaw off his ass?? unthinkable????
"is it an emergency? fuck, are we all going to die? tell me this type of thing earlier, kini', i need to pack all my-"
"what? no- i, mualani.. she, no, there's this holiday, today. the traveler mentioned it, and i thought it'd be fun to try out.. you like sweets too, so. here." kinich unearthed some sort of... stick? was he really trying to feed you sticks? c'mon now, you weren't that stupid-
"i can read your gaze. it's not like that. here, it's chocolate, just- hah..." kinich sighed, eyebrows pinched together, wearing the expression of someone watching everything go wrong. "give it a taste?"
you eyed him skeptically, before taking the stick out of his hands and taking a bite.
"...sweet."
"yeah?"
"not a stick."
"...yes."
"...give me another."
"not so fast, we need to play the game first." kinich took one of the sticks and put it into his mouth, all of a sudden looking a lot more... guilty? you couldn't quite pinpoint the expression on his face, something you'd been doing with a 30% success rate (the highest any natlanian had ever achieved). "whoever gets the last bite wins."
"...i'm just supposed to. eat the other end?"
"what, you can't?" the slight teasing edge in his voice reminded you of ajaw (just the slightest) and you immediately became exponentially irritated.
"hah, who said that? bet."
"..."
oh, so now he chose not to break eye contact.
"...a-hey, we're getting a little close, aren't we.."
"...if you wanna break it off, lose."
"...fuck, you-"
you grabbed him by the cheek, pushing yourself forward and, admittedly, forcefully touching your lips against his. whether by the suddenness or whether by the fact that you two had, well, "kissed," the esteemed malipo kinich let out what sounded like a sputter and fell backward, hands barely catching him from falling to the ground. sitting himself down, he looked up at you with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, and the edge of his lips smudged with chocolate.
"bleh. i win." sticking out your tongue, you motioned with your hands. "the whole box, it's mine now. winner takes all, or whatever they say in mondstadt."
kinich's gaze was observant, and under it you felt your face slowly begin to warm, realizing what you had just done.
"not so fast." kinich stood back up, recomposing himself in a matter of seconds.
"one more round. you caught me off guard."
(a/n) and then reader and kinich smoochy smooch smooch kiss kissed and single day was no longer single and happy birthday kinich really did become happy for kinich fuck when am i going to find me a partner <- has unrealistic expectations
context notes!! :
ajaw purposefully left kinich alone so that he could do his.. idk if you can call it flirting. pocky game w you. best wingman ajaw we all cheer (in reality he was tired of seeing kinich act all lovey dovey whenever you were around and found the tension suffocating so he decided to take matters into his own hands)
taglist (comment to be added / send in an ask on my sb): @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @umiloa, @intpessimistic, @keiiqq, @intpessimistic, @eutopiastar, @matcha-mintea
#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon#astronetwrk#kinich#kinich x reader#kinich x you#kinich x y/n#x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact fluff#x gn reader#genshin oneshots#genshin impact x you#genshin fanfiction#genshin impact imagines#genshin headcanons#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#genshin kinich#genshin natlan#natlan#kinich genshin#genshin impact kinich#mualani#ajaw
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That’s it. Anyone with the “me and my own” ideology will get clapped back.
People that actually care to help people without asking for anything in return will also get their due.
That’s just the way of the Universe.
When you’re already well off, why do you need to be accounted for? Harris specifically was talking about who wasn’t. She was addressing the poor because she knew that’s where things needed to change the most.
The people she didn’t address are not going to be impacted in any negative way. Their lives will stay relatively the same. She didn’t speak to you because she didn’t need to because you’re fine as you are.
On the other hand, Trump is also addressing the poor and minorities. Speaking directly to them. But not with love and care. With hatred and revenge. The opposite.’
He wants to make things worse for them and now he can. So if you voted for him or you didn’t even vote at all - it’s on you why things are going to be much worse from now on. And if you think you won’t be negatively impacted by it because Trump is on your side…
Think again. Because incompetency impacts everyone.
No Harris wasn’t promising the rich and the majorities something. But that didn’t mean she was out to get you. That didn’t mean that she wanted to hurt you.
She simply saw it as you already had what you needed.
There were many others that did not.
She chose to address them.
Look for EVERYONE to live comfortable lives, then everyone has also got to learn to share and to be a community. Giving and getting is a transaction between each other. This is normal. This is natural. This is the way it should be. Greed and hoarding wealth doesn’t really help anyone in the long run and that’s not well understood in America because they’ve lived an entire history through a culture of taking from others. From theft. They never question it not because they’re dumb but because they don’t realize it this is how it’s always been and how it’s always been has always being wrong.
Being afraid of community and socialism. Taught that it’s inherently bad for them and to always look out for themselves and their own first. It’s just not The Way.
Having a black woman as President for the first time would have been revolutionary for them. it would have been a start to setting things right because they’ve never been right. Keeping to tradition doesn’t always mean better because that tradition could be awful. All of this I’m writing right now only sounds so bad because it’s coming from someone that doesn’t live in America but still has lived through a Western culture that’s majorly the same and has never understood it.
See I’m a Westerner but I don’t understand Western culture and I never really have. It’s like I was born with the soul or someone Eastern. Someone whose worldview of philosophy is inherently non-dual because when I look at a person - regardless of what kind of person they are or might be - I don’t see a difference.
We all want to live and thrive and prosper but so many of us have an understanding that goes against that goal just by virtue of “well, what do I get out of it?”
You get what you’ve always had. The means to survive. If you believe that’s not enough then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more than enough for those that don’t currently have it and are fucking desperate for it.
Bottom line is you’ve got to give a little - to sacrifice or compromise on something - to set the balance right.
Harris was the right person to lead to be able to do this. Or at least make the attempt to. What you have now - with Trump - is a lesson. And I hope you learn it well.
Hatred will never make anything better for anyone. All it does it makes it much much much worse for everyone.
You can call this “virtue-signalling” or being “morally superior” if you want. I don’t care. No, America is not my home. No, I couldn’t vote. It doesn’t matter to me.
But I still very much care about the situation because I am a human being. And I honestly think that’s all that’s needed to do the right thing at the end of the day. If you care about something or somebody other than yourself.
You know politics is whatever but people have forgotten how to be a fucking person and that’s very concerning.
You can play heroes vs villains to your dying day and see how much you’ve “gained” out of doing it then.
Rant over.
White conservative America will vote for whiteness and patriarchy.
White conservative America would rather have Putin in the White House before Kamala Harris.
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Professional Indiscretion
Inspired by this post
Warnings: non/dubcon, degradation, demeaning behaviour, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki Laufeyson
Summary: a colleague returns from a recent vacation but is less than relaxed.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You’ve honed the skill of indifference long ago. The voices that carry from down the hall meld together in a dull buzz as you push them to the back of your mind. You’re less concerned with the latest water cooler gossip as your deadline bears down on you.
You hate when a project comes down to the line. It couldn’t be helped. What should have been a two-person assignment was dropped solely in your lap. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Your colleagues are less than reliable.
As their voices glaze over each other, you shrug of your resent. They all have their obligations; golf rounds or the windfall of courtside tickets. You’ve never been afforded the luxury of a half-day to go play. You are the dependable one; as far as your coworkers are concerned, you have nothing going on besides picking up their slack.
Work is work. You don’t linger on it; you just get it done. A peel of laughter jars you from your focus. You should close your door but that’s just an invitation. The last time, they simply moved in front of your door and spoke even louder. It’s like a game to them.
Caroline’s bubbly laughter trills down the hall. She’s joined the rabble. One of the young temps the men love to flirt with. ‘Oh it makes me feel young again.’ Ugh, you couldn’t imagine turning the clock back twenty years. You’re happy that era of your life is over.
You squint at the monitor and review your work. There’s a subtle tap on your doorframe. Your flicks up and back down. Loki.
“Yes, how can I help you?” You ask as your fingers flutter over the keyboard.
“Good afternoon to you too,” he drawls as he breaks the threshold.
“Afternoon,” you continue to type. You try not to think of how this was meant to be his project.
“I’m only doing my rounds. As you know, I was recently abroad and I brought back some sweets,” he crosses your office and sets a blurry object down in your peripheral.
“That’s generous, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” You say.
“You’re welcome,” he overrides your protest.
You sniff, “thanks.”
He’s quiet as he stands across from you. His gaze hangs over you like a dark cloud. You check the auto-save and retract your hands. You push your shoulders back and look at him.
“You were the only who didn’t come out to congratulate me,” he muses.
You sit straight. You are not unkind or inconsiderate. You just don’t come to work to socialize. You signed the card they sent with the flowers.
“Congratulations on your wedding. It seems it was a success,” you say.
He doesn’t react right away. He just stares at you. His green eyes are sharp and his lips a thin line. It isn’t the ego stroking he was looking for. You’re not quite sure what more to say. You’re not very familiar.
He scoffs, “I see.”
You blink, confused by the derision in his tone. You look at him past your monitor as he slowly pivots on his heel. It scuffs loudly and he marches to the door. He stops right before it then delicate grabs the handle and draws it shut.
You tilt your head curiously, “I’m just finishing up a project, so I don’t have very much time--”
“You’ve always been a dry old spinster, haven’t you?” He slithers as he faces you again.
“Pardon?” You’re genuinely stunned by his accusation. It’s not the first time you’ve met with that sort of spite. There is a contempt reserved only for older women.
“Yes, you strut around here as if you are a queen. Above us all, and I come to you with a token of good will, a souvenir from my honeymoon, and it only reminds you of how utterly pathetically alone you truly are,” he sneers. “So you offer me that trite look and your empty tiding.”
You scrunch your lips in surprise and cup your hand in confusion, “nothing of the like. I’m sorry, I am rather busy with my work--”
“Oh but this isn’t just today. It’s how it’s always been. You cannot be happy for anyone for your own misery,” he tuts.
“If that’s what you think,” you sit back calmly. “I think you should go.”
He lingers on the other side of your desk, “it’s because she’s young, I know it.”
“What?”
“My new wife. I see how it makes you bristle to know a man of your peerage couldn’t be bothered with you. You see, women age differently. They become bitter.” He snarls.
“I hardly see how this is appropriate. I am asking you to go--”
He sets his stance and lowers himself into the chair across from you. He smirks and pushes back his dark curls. Your spine locks up. That look in his eye, you’ve seen that in men before.
“I know what the matter is,” he pushes his feet wide and grips his thighs. He postures so his shoulders are wide and high. “How long has it been?”
You refuse to acknowledge his jeer. You shift to your monitor and go back to your editing. He clucks.
“Months, years?” He suggests.
“I’m busy,” you insist, keeping your eyes averted.
“What the wife doesn’t know...” he growls.
You flinch, appalled by his suggestion.
“Leave,” you say.
He snickers. “Are you so resigned to your feeble existence? Those lonely nights? In your condo, drinking your chardonnay, reclining on your chaise and reading the latest lascivious rag written for pruny old divorcees?”
You freeze then slowly look at him. It could be a cruel assumption, though it isn’t untrue. In fact, it is far too accurate to be a coincidence. Down to the chaise and the chardonnay.
“And that toy you keep in your jewelry box,” he curls a finger to mimic the curved shape. “Do you even feel it anymore?”
“Get out,” you hiss.
He smirks and arches a brow, “come.”
He beckons with two fingers. You clutch the armrests of your chair and your nose flairs. You glare back at him, horrified. A newly married man and he’s here propositioning you. What’s more, he’s been watching you.
“You’re disgusting--”
“Get up,” he rubs his thigh. “And come here.”
“HR--”
“Oh, I know Bradon well. I will be happy enough to explain how you’ve grown so jealous of my young wife. You’re overworked so of course you couldn’t control yourself--”
“He wouldn’t believe you--”
“Wouldn’t he? We play squash on Sundays. He knows my character well. An upstanding member of the country club--”
“Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say? Hm? Congratulations on your pretty young wife. Now, you should go home to her,” you snip.
“I don’t want you to say anything,” he taunts as his eyes narrow snakishly. “I want you to come sit in my lap so I can show you how useless that toy truly is.”
“You are--”
“I am your villain,” he undercuts you. “And you have two choices. You can finish that project and submit it and have it tossed out for your indiscretions or you can do what I tell you and still have a job to support you wined-up erotica sessions.”
You curl your lip, repulsed. There’s no point in asking why. Men do not operate on logic.
“What’s it going to be?”
You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. You push yourself to your feet and steady yourself. You move stiffly around the desk, eyes on the wall as you near him. As you get close, he grabs your hip and turn you. He forces you down so roughly that your ankles bend.
You catch yourself on him, grabbing his hands as he grips you tight, and you writhe against his obvious arousal. A man like him can only get off on his own ego. You shudder and grasp his wrists.
He pulls you back against his and rests his chin on your shoulder. You squirm as he untangles his arm from your hold. He hooks his arm around your stomach as his other tugs at your skirt. You huff and claw at his sleeves.
“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve made your point--”
He shoves his hand against your panties, pushing the satin between your folds. You gasp and twitch. You push your thighs together and crush his fingers. It only adds pressure.
“You remember the day I started,” he turns to nuzzle your neck as he speaks, “and you had to make it known that you weren’t an assistant advisor, you were a senior.” He moves his fingers between the clutch of your tensed thighs. “That you were above me?”
“No, I--” you gulp slap at his wrist.
“Oh, and look at you now. Still above me, eh? Right there... on top of me,” he buries his hand against you and nips at your neck meanly. “You will be on your knees soon enough,” he flicks his fingers harshly and you spasm. “Right where you belong.”
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞
╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲
cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.
You knew it.
You fucking knew it the whole damn time.
At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—
Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.
Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"
Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"
"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."
"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.
Oh how wrong he was.
"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."
Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."
Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.
"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.
You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.
Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.
You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.
Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.
"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.
"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.
"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."
"From sex?"
"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.
You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.
You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.
"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.
"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."
"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.
You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.
It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."
"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."
"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."
"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."
"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.
It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.
Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.
The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.
"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"
As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.
"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"
"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.
"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."
"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.
"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.
Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.
It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.
"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."
"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."
"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.
"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."
To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.
The vampire Armand?
More like Armand, your personal cockslut.
You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
#❍ jackalopes graze#male reader#top male reader#armand x male reader#armand x reader#sub armand#top reader#dom male reader#daniel molloy x reader#daniel molloy x male reader#sub daniel molloy#daniel molloy x armand#armand x daniel#interview with the vampire x reader#interview with the vampire x male reader#interview with the vampire#armand iwtv#iwtv x reader#iwtv x male reader#old man yaoi#x reader#male reader insert#x male reader#malereader#iwtv#amc iwtv#reader insert#armand#daniel molloy#vampire x reader
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A partner in the dark.
Pairing: Logan x male reader
Request: Logan with a m!reader who has insomnia/just can’t sleep?? I can’t sleep, but I’m never sure if it’s insomnia because other times I sleep just fine. maybe it’s anxiety, idk - but sometimes I think all those problems would go away if I just had a big fluffy man to cuddle on, y’know??
Warnings: none.
A/n: this might be the shortest fic I have ever written. This request is so unbelievably real. As always, be aware that my characterisation of Logan may be a little off as I'm still getting used to writing for him, and that there may be spelling mistakes and such as I can tend to miss them.
To the person that sent this in I hope this is what you were asking for, and that you enjoy it!
The same goes for everyone else!!
Logan masterlist.
The awareness of time had been lost. It had been hours at this point. The only certain thing was that the night had taken over the sky.
Your room was cascaded in the usual darkness, except for a few streams of the outside light that escaped through a parting of the curtains. Apparently they hadn't been closed right.
To put it simply, you were wide awake in a bed that practically served no purpose.
Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling. There was no particular reason. I mean, there wasn't anything to look at anyway, it was just plain white. A shade that was really starting to get boring.
But alas, every attempt at peeling your gaze from it or even just shutting your eyes had failed. Similar to the effort to sleep.
Multiple times the rustling of the bed sheets would crackle through the air as your limbs shifted across the mattress, though the only thing really achieved was discovering a new position.
Eventually, your back was the last option left. So, there you were, stuck facing upward while your hands sat on top of each other on your chest. You could feel it rise and fall. Even the faintest beats of your heart.
And it still didn't work.
An exhale parted your lips after sucking in through your nose. There was one more try for comfort, your shoulders sort of rubbing into the bed as if they were the source of the problem.
“Can't sleep?”
You blinked initially, the sound almost delayed in your ears as your senses weren’t as active as they were before.
Soon, your head loosely lolled to the side, at most an attempt to send a simple glance at the man. Though, it remained when you had met with his dark eye.
Only one was on display; the other engulfed by the pillow. He lay opposite you, in more ways than one. He was on his stomach as he peered at you, eyelids visibly heavy; each blink lasted longer than the next.
“Did I wake you?” you whispered.
Logan sort of huffed at that, air piercing from his nose. “Could,” he corrected through a grumble, “until some guy kicked me in the leg.”
The side of your face fully pressed into your pillow, chin lowering, so that you could face him enough. “I did?” You were cringing, concerned gaze fixating on Logan while he slowly but surely started to twist his body round with an equal amount of groans.
There was almost a sigh of relief when he had landed on his back, his body bouncing just a tad from the sudden movement. “Don’t worry about it.” he offered with some gruffness, his lack of energy seeming to affect his use of tone.
It had you just looking at him for a moment. Watching the last few times he blinked before his eyes decided to stay closed. You hummed for a response, a sound so light it had barely even made its way through your throat.
And then you were back to facing that dreaded ceiling. It almost annoyed you by how smooth it looked. Didn’t even look like it had been painted, even if it had; there were no streaks or imperfections. Just purely white.
“What’s wrong?”
This time, you didn’t budge. “Nothing.” you practically whispered. “You sure?” Logan was quick to ask, seeming to shuffle around a little bit as the bed creaked, “I personally don’t find a ceiling all that interesting.”
The tensity in your muscles eased, especially in your face, when you allowed your head to turn. Yet again.
He was looking at you through almost half lidded eyes. Though, his eyebrows were raised, inviting your answers. You sighed, trying to think of the right words to use before your lips inevitably parted.
“My brain’s too loud.”
It was the only way you could describe it. I mean, the room engulfing the two of you was silent. Completely silent. There were no sounds of birds from outside, or wind. Not even a car driving passed on the road.
If a pin had been dropped in any corner of the room, maybe even right down the hallway, you would have heard it. Thus, it was all from your head.
Logan seemed to sit up a little at that. The movement wasn’t so much in his body than it was his head as it raised slightly from the pillow beneath. “D’you wanna talk about it?”
You could’ve pictured the expression on his face if you hadn’t already been looking at it; the furrowing of his eyebrows, the squint of his eyes, the light frown that dragged the corners of his lips. Now, he was awake.
You shook your head, as much as you could in your position. “It’s just annoying.” you confessed, grabbing onto Logan’s hand when he reached over.
Initially it was aimed towards your face, but you held it instead. You needed something in your hand; to feel it. “I’m so tired, but when I try to sleep nothing happens, you know?”
“It’s the one thing I should be able to do– like everyone else, and I just… I can’t. I can’t get myself to stop thinking.”
Logan’s other hand came up from somewhere under the sheet, dragging along the bedding until it could finally make contact with your face. An exhale instinctively huffed through your nose at the touch, and the feeling of his warm fingers. He caressed along your cheekbone. “Come here.”
You stared back at him for a moment, his features barely visible in the few streams of light until it got to his shining eyes.
Logan let go of you for a moment, grabbing at the dog tags around his neck before pulling it to the side. And then he held his arms out, proving that he meant it.
You complied.
Your head ended up landing on his chest, mostly because he guided it there himself, and it was almost instantly that your body melted onto his.
You could feel his arms encasing you, finding their wanted positions just like yours were, though eventually his hands had settled around your shoulders.
His heartbeat was right in your ear; the slow rhythm of it, the thuds themselves. Truthfully, even if none of this helped you to sleep, you still wouldn’t mind listening to it until the sun came up.
“There’s nothing to worry about now,” Logan insisted with a breath that raised you with his chest. He pressed a kiss to your head before leaning his chin against it, “It can wait until morning.”
“I can’t just shut my mind off, Logan–”
“It can wait.” he maintained, tightening his hold on you as he shifted slightly on the bed.
It had you wanting to roll your eyes. To shake your head, maybe even roll off of him completely, but there was something about it that made it impossible to do so.
You were surrounded by his warmth. His arms. Him. He had given his body to lean on, and offered the sound of his heart right to you; a sound you don’t get to hear very often. There was no chance that you were moving.
By the next exhale, your head had sunk further into the bare skin of his chest. The two of you practically melded together.
Your fingers lightly traced along the back of his arm, following the edge of his muscles as the sound of his breaths filled your ears. “Thank you.” you whispered after a moment, finally letting your eyes fall closed.
“No need.”
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x male reader#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x male reader#x men
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Love That Burns ~ 30
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST
< previous chapter
Word Count: 1,855ish
Summary: You and Logan still struggle with your relationship. The two of you make a decision to help ease the struggles.
Warnings: Emotional, Angst, Injuries
Notes: crossing my fingers that you guys will be okay with this chapter...
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!
“So, how are you and Logan doing?” Ororo asked one morning at breakfast.
“Fine,” you responded with a shrug. “We have a lot of work to do, but we’re working through it.”
“He does seem a little more on edge around the kids, as do you.”
You sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking… I think Logan and I should go away for a while.”
“Wait, you two want to leave?”
“I haven’t brought it up to Logan yet, and it wouldn’t be forever… we just need a space where we can focus on just the two of us. We’re constantly thrown every which way with classes, missions, and world-ending scenarios. Logan and I need to simply be us for a while and figure out what that means.”
“I… do whatever you have to do.” Ororo stood up. “I’ve got a class to teach.”
“Ororo, please stay and talk.”
But she slipped out of the room. You sighed, hiding your head in your hands. That was the position Logan found you in. He quietly came up behind you and rested your hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered against your neck.
You leaned back into him, looking up at him. “I made Ororo upset.”
“What did you do?” You sighed, looking back down. “Hey.” He sat down beside you. “I thought we were doing better with the talking shit.” He hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face to look at him. “Tell me.”
“I told Ororo about something I was going to talk to you about.”
“And that was…?”
“About leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“I was thinking that we need some time to ourselves. To figure things out and just be us.”
“But this is your home. Would you really be okay leaving it?”
“Logan, you’re my home. And you were long before this was.”
Logan studied your gaze and could see that you were telling the truth, but he worried that after a while, he wouldn’t be enough. You at least had people here, other mutants, to lean on when the two of you were struggling. If it’s just you and him? Then you’d have no one. Logan was okay with that for himself but not for you.
“I thought that we’ve been doing well here,” Logan said, trying to see if he could get you to change your mind.
His words took you back. “You want to stay? You’re constantly trying to run.”
“I just want you to really think about it, sweetheart. I don’t want you to leave and then regret it.”
“You think that I’d regret being with you?”
“That’s not what I said—“
You pulled away, standing up. “But it’s what you meant, right?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stood up as well, growing angry.
“Do you not want this long-term, Logan? Am I just your person until a new, better one comes along?”
“Hey! That’s not fair!”
“Morning! Oh—“ Bobby stopped in the doorway. “I can see that this is not a good time, so I—“
“No, Bobby, we’re done here,” you told him, rushing off.
“Y/N!” Logan yelled after you, hurrying to follow you. He followed you into the gardens. “Now, who’s running?!”
“Oh, please,” you spun around. “You’ve wanted to run since the moment you got here!”
“Yes, but I stayed for you!”
“Oh, I feel so honored.”
“You know what, maybe I should go. Since it’s clear that I’m unable to hit the high expectations you have set for me.”
“You are the reason for those high expectations.”
“Ugh! I’m not that person anymore! And I’m sick and tired of feeling like shit all the time about that!”
Logan’s hand flew out as he was talking, his claws accidentally unsheathing. Before either of you knew it, the claws were cutting against your cheek. You gasped, stumbling back as your hand came up to hold your cheek.
“Oh my God,” he sputtered. He hid his claws before reaching for you. “Sweetheart—“ You stepped back, breaking both of your hearts. Logan’s fingers were tingling. If you didn’t let him try to fix this—if you didn’t let him touch you, Logan would never trust himself to touch someone again. “Please let me—“
“No,” you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “Just… leave me alone.”
You rushed off back into the mansion. You knew that Logan didn’t mean to hurt you, but you needed time and space.
Logan was frozen in his spot. The high emotions had gotten the best of both of you, but especially his claws. He had hurt you, and he was fully conscious for it. This was different than him having a nightmare. This was much worse.
~~~
You had sat in front of the mirror, watching the three cuts along your cheek heal into scars. Tears streamed down your face the entire time while you thought of Logan. Both of you were in the wrong here, and this was a complete accident. You were thinking about what to say to Logan when you started to hear drawers slamming in Logan’s room. Rushing out of your room, you looked into his room to see him stuffing his clothes into a bag.
“What are you doing?” You whispered.
Logan spun to face you. Slowly, his hand reached out to brush against the scars on your cheek, but he didn’t let his hand actually make contact.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice was completely broken, tears lining his eyes. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you… yet I keep doing it.” He shook his head and got back to packing. “I have to go.”
“What?”
“I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t be the person you need… The person I was before…”
“And this will make it better? I’ve messed up in this relationship, too. This is not just on you. I’m sorry for making it seem like I’m forcing you to be that person again. I know that you’ve changed, so I have, and that’s okay. I still love you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Stop that.” You slipped in between him and the dresser. He kept his head down, not willing to make eye contact. “Fine. Tell me you don't love me, and I’ll let you walk away. But you have to look me in the eye and be honest with me.”
You nibbled your bottom lip as you waited for Logan to make the next move. You could tell that there was a war waging in his mind. His eyes suddenly snapped to yours.
“I… I can’t do that,” he murmured. “I love you.”
You quickly pulled him by his shirt to kiss him. He dropped his bag and slid his hands to the small of your back.
“If you really want to leave,” you whispered against his lips, “then you have to take me with you.”
“Okay,” he replied.
~~~
“It’s not forever,” you said as you hugged Ororo. “We’ll stay in contact and visit. Logan and I just need to figure things out.”
“I’ll miss you,” Ororo responded, pulling back. “I’ll miss the both of you.”
“You ready?” Logan asked, coming up from the truck he had just packed.
He had already said goodbye to Marie and Bobby before packing the truck, knowing that you would need some time with Ororo.
“I think so,” you responded. “See you later, Ororo.”
“See you,” she replied.
You took Logan’s hand, and he led you to the truck. He opened the door and helped you in before going around to the driver’s seat. You turned back and watched as the mansion grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Logan placed a hand on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze.
“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly concerned. “We can turn back around.”
You laced your fingers through his and scooted closer to Logan, very thankful for the bench seat. “I’m okay,” you told him. You kissed his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”
“I have a place in mind.”
“Care to tell?”
“Not yet. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“You sure?”
He leaned over and kissed your head. “I’m sure.”
You hummed in content as you rested your head on his shoulder and let yourself relax. Logan’s lifted up in a barely-there smile as you tried your best to cuddle into him.
~~~
You didn’t bother to ask Logan where the two of you were headed again. You kept yourself occupied with books and naps when you weren’t talking to Logan. It was already proving to be worth it, as the farther the two of you drove from the mansion, the less tension there was. Logan insisted on driving the whole way, and so far you’ve had to beg him to stop to sleep in motels for the three nights you’ve been on the road so far.
It didn’t shock you when the two of you crossed over into Canada. You figured that Logan would always feel a call back there. The shock factor was later as the two of you drove up an old, familiar road in the Canadian Rockies.
“Logan, where—“
“Just patience, okay?” He cut you off. “I’ll explain soon.”
You simply nodded, focusing on the trees you were passing out the window. Your heart started pounding the closer you got to the top. Before you knew it, the small house appeared and Logan was pulling up to it. It looked just how you remembered it. You were too busy staring that you didn’t realize Logan had gotten out of the truck and walked around to your side. He opened the door and took your hand.
“Come on,” he urged, tugging you out of the truck. “Let’s go inside.”
“Inside?” You repeated. “It’s probably a disaster. We—“ Your eyes widened as Logan pulled you inside. The place was clean, updated, and furnished. “What? How?”
“Charles. We had a conversation about when Jean died, and I got part of my memories back. He knew that we would need a place to start over and found where we used to live. Before I could stop it, he had people here fixing it up.”
You let go of his hand and began slowly walking around the house. Your hands gently trailed against the walls and updated pieces of furniture.
“You and Charles…” you breathed out. “You did all this?”
“Is it okay?” Logan was clearly nervous. “We can go somewhere else. I just know that this was the—“ You shut him up with a kiss.
“This is perfect. Thank you. But know that I don't expect you to be the same person as before. Time has changed both of us… are you okay with being here?”
“Yes. I even already got a job as a lumberjack.”
“Oh, got the old job back?”
Logan chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. I start in a week.”
“So I have a week of you all to myself?”
“A whole week.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Can we try out the new bed?”
A devious smirk formed over Logan’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
next chapter >
#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x female!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x mutant reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader
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My blog is NOT a safe place for proshippers!!!
Hopefully, I won't have to repeat myself after this. If you're a proshipper/darkshipper and you come across my blog, make a graceful U-turn and simply GO FUCK YOURSELF!
I don't give a rat's rotting ass if you don't support pro-contact, I still cannot confide in people like you. Here's another thing that I don't understand about y'all. How are you going to call yourself 'anti-harassment' or complain that antis "harass" you, but then go around and interact with antis all willy-nilly to try to persuade them that they're in the wrong?
And no, most antis don't go out of their way to harass you. They mostly block the people they dislike so that the proshippers don't get the chance to interact. The ones that do interact with the people they dislike are just wasting their own time. I suggest that you don't waste your time with them either.
I hate proshippers, but I don't waste my time trying to convince y'all that what you're doing is wrong. That one time I had to interact is when I asked one of my followers if they're a proshipper or not (they were, so I blocked them). Call me a "bad person" for doing that if you like, I will stand by with what I did and I'm not actually sorry for blocking them. :)
Here are some examples of the most popular dogshit excuses they use to try to make themselves look as innocent as possible.
Excuse #1: "They're not real, so why does it bother you?"
It doesn't matter that the characters are fictional, it's still disgusting that people like you glorify illegal material like incest, pedophilia, abuser x victim, child porn, etc.
Excuse #2: "Fiction doesn't affect reality. It can't hurt you."
While it's true to some certain extent, the way it's used in this argument makes it worse. Again, it doesn't give you the excuse to worship pedophilia and other problematic ships that shouldn't be normalized. Fiction or not, some things shouldn't be shared at all.
Excuse #3: "This is just my coping mechanism."
I'm sorry, but this is one of thee most shittiest excuses I've ever heard in my life! In fact, the term 'excuse' is too kind for this. What's another word to describe this bullshit? Glorifying problematic ships is not a healthy way of coping. Why? Because you're manipulating your brain into thinking that whatever traumatic experience you went through should be romanticized. No normal person would do that to themselves and justify it.
Excuse #4: "If you don't like it, just block them."
I do. Like I previously said, I don't waste my time on these people. I want them to stay as far away from me as possible as much as I stay away from them. However, fantasies the proshippers have shouldn't be shared as a normal factor. It's okay to write about dark topics, what's NOT okay is romanticizing/normalizing it.
Before I close this off, I want to say that all of this applies to radqueers, too. Y'all are not slick, you're just as bad as proshippers!
Does this post offend you, proshippers? If it does, good! Y'all are NOT welcomed in my blog whatsoever and I will do anything in my power to make sure you don't get an opportunity to interact with me.
I'll say it one more damn time;
MY BLOG IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR PROSHIPPERS AND IT NEVER WILL. ANY PROSHIPPER/RADQUEER THAT INTERACTS WILL BE BLOCKED ON THE DOT.
GO CRY ME A RIVER, MOTHERFUCKERS! BOO-FUCKING-HOO! (This is directed towards the proshippers and radqueers).
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╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper
epilogue
previous parts:
1 2 3
in which you and reid are visiting your brother in hospital after he tried to commit a suicide
tw: mention of a suicide attempt
contents: spender reidxfem!bau!reader, it's an epilogue, please check the previous parts if you missed them!
words: 3.1k
You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth, but they did. And what’s more, they were sincere.
It was late in the evening when you were heading back to the office in Quantico. No case ever ended with just catching the unsub – after that came the long hours of report writing and paperwork. After everything you’d been through, the team almost forbade you from taking on that task. Instead, they insisted that you go straight home and get some proper rest.
You rolled your eyes and nodded, like a child whose mother insists they zip up their jacket. Hotch was nowhere to be seen, Morgan was listening to music with his eyes closed, Emily and JJ were absorbed in their conversation, and Rossi… well, Rossi was doing whatever it is Rossi does. So, you reached for the case files and tucked yourself away in a quiet corner of the jet. You wanted to go over everything again, even though you knew that as soon as you saw Logan's photo, all the unpleasant memories would come rushing back with relentless force.
But before you could open the folder to the first page, someone simply took it from your hands. You looked up to see none other than Reid—blue shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up, a look of perpetual sleeplessness, his usual worry, and… joy. Small, but noticeable.
You, too, were almost disturbingly happy. Escaping death filled you with a mood akin to the high after smoking two joints back-to-back. Of course, it would only last for a brief moment; by tomorrow, you’d likely be tossing and turning in bed, plagued by nightmares. A familiar pattern.
"I don’t even want to see you trying to work right now," Spencer said, taking a seat next to you and placing the folder beside him, just out of your reach. Or at least far enough that you’d have to put in some serious effort to grab it—and your sore ribs had no intention of letting you do that.
"Then what do you suggest I do?" you asked, rolling your eyes. "I don't want to sleep."
"Kafka on the Shore?" he suggested.
"I've already read it. By the way, what was the deal with the soldiers and the hut in the woods at the very end?"
"Well, that's an element that leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation."
"Thanks for the explanation, that told me a lot," you chuckled. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to get more comfortable in your spot, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. You hissed.
“They should have kept you in the hospital for at least one night,” Reid said, suddenly straightening up. “Do you need anything? There might be some ice around… or I could just leave, and you could lie down…”
“No. You’re staying,” you decided firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your abrupt response. You quickly followed up with an explanation. “Well, I’ve finished reading my book, and you took my files. So now you’re responsible for my potential boredom. It’s your duty to entertain me.”
“Yeah” he agreed with a smirk “It’s my duty”
"So, how do you plan to do that? Are you going to dance? Sing? Juggle?"
"I can't dance or sing, and I don't have anything to juggle. Is it enough if we just talk? Or is that too common of an entertainment for you?"
You pretended to think for a moment.
"Fine, I guess."
"Then what are you planning to do when you get back?"
"Visit Jeremy."
"Oh, right, sorry…”
"Come on," you interrupted, waving your hand. A moment of silence followed as you hesitated before speaking again. However, you remembered that you had decided to stop staying silent about your worries and problems, at least in his presence. "It's just... it really stresses me out. I don't know how I should talk to him, I'm afraid I'll panic when I see him..."
Spencer cleared his throat before answering.
“That... can really be tough,” he said, not bothering to lie or reassure you that everything would go perfectly. “But hey, remember that he’s probably looking forward to seeing his big sister. Even if you start talking about something you think is silly, he’ll be happy just to have you there.”
He made you smile, though the corners of your eyes began to gently dampen. You wiped them discreetly, not wanting to burst into tears on the jet.
"I hope you're right. And I hope he doesn't hate me for not being there for him..."
You stopped, feeling him take your hand. You realized you had been clenching it into a fist for quite some time.
"I don't know Jeremy, so I can only guess how he'll react. But I'm sure of one thing—he definitely doesn't hate you."
For a long time, you simply stared at your hand in his warm grip. Your fingers relaxed, releasing the tension that had been between them, becoming limp yet yearning for the touch.
"Spencer," you said suddenly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can ask you this... but... you've been there for me this whole time and... okay, I’ll understand if you say no, but... would you maybe... want to visit him with me? I don't know if I can do it alone."
You waited for his response, your heart beating faster with each passing moment. Maybe it was too much? Maybe you shouldn’t be asking him for something like this; maybe it crossed the line of your acquaintance? Just a year ago... no, even a week ago, you never would have imagined you’d be begging anyone for something like this. You would have forced yourself to do it alone, ignoring your fear.
He simply smiled.
"Of course, you can ask me to do that. And I'm glad I'll be able to accompany you."
*
The sound of quickly pressed keys echoed as you gave the hospital receptionist your brother’s last name.
The stark whiteness of the place and the blinding, intense light felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. The thought of seeing Jeremy soon made you tremble. You had so many questions for him, including why he even tried to take his own life, but you knew you couldn’t ask them just yet. He didn’t need an interrogation to satisfy your curiosity; he needed support.
You were so overwhelmed at the thought of seeing him that you shifted impatiently from foot to foot. You felt stressed but also excited. After all, he was your little brother, and you missed him. Standing beside you, Reid smiled slightly, noticing your behavior. If you were hurting him by squeezing his hand as tightly as you could, he didn’t let it show.
"Who are you to the patient?" the receptionist asked.
"His sister."
"And you?" she turned to Spencer.
"A frie—" he began, probably intending to say friend.
"Fiancé," you interrupted, quickly offering a word that began with the same letter. You worried that if the woman found out he wasn’t connected to you or Jeremy, she might ask him to stay in the waiting room. You didn’t expect him to go into Jeremy's room with you, but you wanted the reassurance that he’d be right outside, not on the other side of the hospital.
Reid first looked at you like you were crazy. You tried to silently signal him to join in on your desperate act. Luckily, he caught on incredibly fast.
"That's right, fiancé. Basically, husband. We're getting married... tomorrow," he improvised, nodding with such conviction that he almost seemed to believe it himself. "Well, actually, not tomorrow, but the day after, because tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re Catholic. In our religion,
“Darling,” you gritted through your teeth, seeing the receptionist’s confused expression.
“In any case, I’m very close to the patient,” he emphasized.
If he said anything more, you would’ve nudged him with your elbow.
“Well… in that case… the patient is in room number fourteen. It’s that way…” She pointed in the right direction. You thanked her with an overly wide smile. “And… congratulations.”
“God bless you,” Reid said as he waved goodbye.
You quickly turned around, so she wouldn’t see your burst of laughter. As soon as you were out of the receptionist's sight, you hit him on the back so hard that a woman with a cast on her arm almost dropped her coffee. He laughed, and you awkwardly tried to hide how much the whole situation amused you as well.
“If I had let you say one more word, she wouldn’t have let either of us in,” you complained. “She would’ve thought we were freaks. Religious freaks. Or maybe point us to the psychiatric ward.”
“Hey, I’m not the best actor. You should know that,”
“I didn’t know. I’ll remember for next time, though I’m not sure if there will ever be another situation where you’ll need to pretend to be my husband.”
"Fiancé," he corrected. "You decided that yourself."
"Basically a husband. You decided that yourself."
You didn’t say anything more, only grabbed the edge of his coat sleeve to slow his pace. You were standing outside room 14, right in front of the door. You didn’t even peek inside; you weren’t ready to see Jeremy just yet.
“I need one more minute,” you whispered.
“Take all the time you need,” he replied gently.
The playful mood that had accompanied you both was gone. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you stood on tiptoe and began adjusting his poorly tied scarf.
“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath. “It’s been bothering me since I saw you.”
"I'll wait for you here, okay?" he asked quietly. Because you were so close to him, he barely had to raise his voice at all. "Jeremy doesn’t know me, I don’t want to just show up unannounced..."
“Are you coming in or what?”
You turned around, startled, to see none other than Jeremy. Lying on the hospital bed, poking at a container of chocolate pudding with a spoon, and most importantly, awake.
At first, you were surprised, but soon emotion took control of your body, and you ran to him as if he were about to disappear.
"Oh my God, I can finally see you..." His shirt, which you hugged tightly, muffled your words.
"The pudding spilled on your jacket."
"I don't care."
He chuckled into your hair, holding you tighter. You stayed like that for a moment, desperately holding back tears. If even one had surfaced, you would’ve fallen apart like a child.
ou pulled away after a long time, immediately noticing that his eyes were also filled with tears. However, he quickly wiped them away with his hand. Still, he was a sixteen-year-old boy, and crying in front of his sister felt like public humiliation for him, a shame that would last forever. You tried to do everything you could to avoid looking at his wrists. Both hands were wrapped in bandages, and from the conversation with your father, you learned that they had put in a lot of stitches. You focused on looking at his face—young, similar to yours, with the same blue eyes.
"Are parents visiting you?"
He shrugged.
"Father, surprisingly, more often. Mother drops by irregularly and talks about strange things. Apparently, our neighbor's dog has worms, and it really pisses her off. My mother, not the neighbor. Though, probably the neighbor too..."
You didn't know why you started crying.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, your words slurring. “I should have gotten here earlier, and I didn’t. I regret so much that I didn’t, I’m sorry. I should have been here the moment you woke up.”
He didn’t say anything, letting you lament. Finally, you wiped away the last tear, then apologized to him about eighteen more times. You sat together in silence for a moment, busying yourself with wiping the dirty jacket. He wasn’t joking about the pudding.
“How are you feeling?”
He shrugged.
“Tolerable, I guess. By the way, who was that guy who came in with you?”
You turned toward the entrance, but Spencer was nowhere to be seen. He must have sat on one of the chairs outside the room, and knowing him, he’d probably started reading some medical brochure.
“A friend,” you replied briefly. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I brought him... It’s just…”
You didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t have made it here without support.
“He works for the FBI too?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Would he tell me more about the job than you do?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be dead serious.
“I won’t let him tell my little brother any graphic details.”
“I’m not a kid!”
“To me, you are, and always will be.”
He looked like he was holding back from sticking his tongue out at you.
“Call him,” he asked. “I’d love to meet your friend. Is he a friend, or a friend?”
“Jeremy, you’re ridiculous…”
But you fulfilled his request. Spencer stared at you with wide eyes when you told him that your brother wanted to see him. As he entered the room, he almost tripped over... probably his own feet, since there was nothing else to trip on. And that’s how the rest of the visit went, the three of you together. Jeremy alternated between complaining about the hospital food and bombarding Reid with questions about absolutely everything related to being a profiler. He had always been fascinated by it, but after everything that had happened to you, you couldn’t, with a clear conscience, recommend that job to him. Spencer had been explaining everything in detail to him, and for the next hour, you almost felt like an intruder in their private conversation, which amused you instead of offending you.
Spencer left a moment before you, giving you a chance to say goodbye to your brother privately. When you finally released him from your embrace, promising you'd come back tomorrow, the same nurse who had spoken with you at the reception entered the room. She was checking Jeremy’s condition as you headed for the exit.
“Wait,” she suddenly said. “I think your husband left his scarf.”
She held up the purple scarf, indeed Reid's. You were about to thank her and take it when you noticed Jeremy’s mouth hanging open, and with horror, you realized what she'd said.
"Forgive me, dear sister, but what the fuck?”
*
“So, he’s convinced that we had a secret, spontaneous wedding that you didn’t tell him about?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
In reality, Jeremy had probably realized immediately that there was a misunderstanding, but he just couldn’t pass up the chance to tease you. He would likely bring it up again for the rest of your life. You were also worried that you'd get an angry phone call from your mother asking why you didn’t mention your “wedding,” but overall, you were content with how the meeting went.
You both walked together in an unknown direction, neither of you sure when you should part ways or if you even wanted to. You didn’t want to, but you had no idea about him. The weather was much better than in the town where you had spent the last few days. The fewer trees meant that autumn wasn’t as pronounced. It was only present in the chilly, gusty wind.
"If you don't have any plans, how about going out to eat?" you suggested.
"Sure." Reid agreed immediately, and the corner of your mouth twitched at the speed of his response. "What are you in the mood for?"
"Well, anything. There's a good restaurant on the corner of this street... Oh, God, I just remembered, I owe someone dinner as a thank you."
"Dinner? As a thank you?" he repeated with a strange look on his face. Before he could say anything else, he caught himself and snorted. "Interesting. Just curious, is it someone I know?"
"Oh, you know him." You continued with a barely suppressed smile. "Do you remember James Rivas? The forest ranger?"
Reid literally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Dinner? With him?"
"That's right. Well, he saved my life, so I guess I owe him that."
You were shocked when you learned how your team knew where to find you after you were kidnapped. The bunker Osborne took you to was unknown to the local authorities, hidden deep in the forest, far from any paths. When the rumor spread through the town about who was responsible for the murders and that an FBI agent had been kidnapped, the forest ranger showed up at the police station. He revealed that he knew the place where you might have been held because, as a child, he used to go there with friends, including Logan Osborne.
But of course, you had no intention of taking him to dinner. You just wanted to laugh at Reid's reaction.
"You're absolutely not owed anything by him!" he blurted out with emotion, a hint of anger in his voice. "If he'd only remembered that he knew about the existence of some bunker, you wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. You wouldn't have had to go through that hell, and I wouldn't have been losing my mind the whole time, not knowing what happened to you. Plus, have you forgotten what an awful person he is? He's arrogant, self-absorbed, and full of self-admiration—do you really want to have dinner with someone like that...are you laughing?"
He furrowed his brow, completely confused by your reaction.
“God, Reid, I was just joking! I’d rather die than spend another hour with that jerk. Especially voluntarily,” you explained, laughing between words. Something in his remark made you smirk. “Were you really losing your mind when I was kidnapped? “
“You’re impossible," he snorted. “Where’s that restaurant?”
“Wait, don’t change the topic and answer my question”
He simply looked at you, tilting his head to the side.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
taglist: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox
thank you everyone for reading <3
#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#criminal mind#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#spencer reid angst#doctor spencer reid
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Okay, but how would crew react to reader accidentally killing Jimmy in self defense. Like, he wanted to assault them (sexual or physical, it can be anything), so, they took a screwdriver to stab him in the eye, or stomach, neck, whatever. But they were absolutely horrified and in so much shock, because they killed a person and starts to overthinking and on verge of crying on what they should do.
CREW MEMBERS REACTION TO READER ACCIDENTALLY K/LLING JIMMY;
Curly
- he is so horrifyingly conflicted,at one moment his heart is agonizingly paining at the loss of his best friend,but on the other end,as the captain of the ship,he can't even deny the harassment allegations, knowing that it isn't the first time.
- is gonna need lots of alone time to think,to reflect,to prepare himself for what he was going to tell his friends and jimmy's family.
- he will so be in his thoughts that he would forget to eat or sleep.
- from that point onwards,he will be strictly neutral towards you.
Swansea
- he was incredibly taken aback by this sudden turn of events on the ship.
- he doesn't really care that jimmy is dead,his only concerns are that his body is going to stink up the ship,and is only one more problem added.
- is slightly kind of relieved because he thought that jimmy was slightly off-putting.
- won't really comfort you on the matter,but wouldn't scold you either. he would simply not bring it up.
Daisuke
- oh. wow. okay. damn.
- gets really sad to see you so scared and upset,stays up all night to either comfort you,okay games with you(on the game boy or board games)
- "don't be sad y/n! I knew he was a bad guy! His vibes were so off! It's not your fault at all! Don't be upset,it doesn't suit you, im always here for you baby!".
- hugs you whenever he sees you feeling down,will not let anyone bring up the topic,if anyone does,he changes it.
Anya
- based. based. based. based. based. based.
- is the happiest person on the ship,smiles for the first time in forever.
- along with Daisuke,she doesn't let you feel bad about it,she herself gets so upset upon hearing what he tried to do to you.
- tries her best to cheer you up.
- "don't you beat yourself up about it y/n, it's one bad person removed from this world".
#jimmy mouthwashing#mouthwashing#mouthwashing jimmy#anya mouthwashing#captain curly#grant curly#curly mouthwashing#swansea#mechanic swansea#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing daisuke
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Hiii sis how are u i was reading post 5th house the jupiter in 5th house tend to be relegious are there placments to show non relegious person
Hii my lil sis, I'm fine, how u doing?! 💖
Oh yes I know a few but the expression of the non- belief and it's extent can be different, I can explain some placements a little but it goes beyond that, based on other aspects too.🫡
Placements that can indicate a non-religious personality:
Rahu in 9H- They can question religious practices or develop a liking towards other religious philosophies than the one they were born into. 🧡🧡
Debilitated 9H lord or 9H lord in conjunction with a debilitated planet - 9H shows our belief systems and how deep we are into it, this placement can cause an aversion or at least a blunt boredom towards religious practices, they simply may not be interested. 💚💚
9H lord in Rahu's nakshatra - They might be inquisitive but they are mostly not atheists, they just want to know the stories and think for themselves whether they could relate to it or not.🩷🩷
Saturn aspecting 9H or in conjunction with 9H lord- They believe in God and might pray but rarely do they exhibit themselves as highly religious. They could think of God as a power in this universe, they trust in God in a different philosophical way which is a deeper connection that others might not understand but they're not conventionally religious as in following the practices. This is somewhat hard for me to explain, they focus on the spiritual and philosophical part of it but not the religious part.♥️♥️
9H lord in Saturn's nakshatra - They are either too religious or a straight out atheist, there's nothing in between, it might be that they got very much hurt in life that they chose to believe in themselves but they could become religious later in life.🧡🧡
Rahu in 5H- This is not a most common placement in this topic but some ppl having this might not be as religious as their surroundings, they could be less focusing or disinterested in religious matters while their surroundings can be more into it.
Debilitated jupiter- They might not like the teachings of their religion, since they couldn't relate to it, they could've just avoided that aspect altogether.🩷🩷
Jupiter Rahu conjunction - This is Guru Chandal Yoga. Even though this placement can give spiritual understanding and good exploring tendency, they usually oppose and argue the traditional religious practices, they wouldn't like some of the conventional sayings and they would try to prove their point why they think it's wrong or pointless, and can be rebellious in talking against religious practices.♥️♥️
9H lord in 6/8/12H- They can be more about the spiritual part or won't believe much in anything religious depending on the strength of 6/8/12H lords, if they're strong, then they might be good and interested in the spiritual areas rather than common practices but if those lords are weak along with 9H lord in these houses, they probably might be atheist.🧡🧡
Debilitated Sun or Atmkaraka- As sun is the natural significator of the soul and AK being your own soul significator, weakness of these can lead to not trusting in anything that is not solid, like they find it hard to link an unseen concept with themselves.These can apply to 8/12H suns to an extent.🩷🩷
If someone has many of these placements, they might be non-religious but keep in mind that other aspects play a role in deciding it too ✨
These are the placements I could think of as of now, tqsm for asking this Q's lil sis, I loved answering it.🤗🫶🩵
Guys, pls send thought provoking 'asks' lyk this, I understand the curiosity and the need for feeling clarity by asking personal placement Q's but sometimes I'm overwhelmed by it, I want to post answered asks that can benefit everyone, lyk everyone has something to learn from it.🥺🥺♥️
Let's Learn and Grow Together! 🫂💋
With Love-Yashi ❤️🔥
Masterlist 💖
#astrology#blogs#astro community#astroblr#astro observations#birth chart#natal chart#astro placements#astro notes#vedic astro observations#astrology aspects#astrology observations#vedic astrology observations#vedic astro notes#vedic chart#vedic astrology#sidereal astrology#rahu#atmakaraka#9th house#9th lord#Jupiter Rahu conjunction#saturn#sun#sidereal chart#answered asks#moonchild033#asks#debilitated planets#astro girlies
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The Virtues of Stanford Pines
Summary: I've seen people accuse Ford of doing horrible things on one side, and people defending his actions on the other side. But how about we turn the tables and talk about all of the good Ford has done. (At least, that was the plan.)
Word Count: 2813.
Spoilers: Gravity Falls series, Journal 3, The Book of Bill, Lost Legends, thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com
1. He's incredibly hard-working:
Just because someone is smart doesn't mean they don't put a lot of effort into studying and Ford definitely did. It's mentioned twice just in "A Tale of Two Stans," when he tries to convince the college board to give him another chance and when he describes his years at Backupsmore.
And it doesn't stop at intellectual pursuits. In Journal 3 Ford says he exercises daily, despite having always hated physical activity.
Anyway, I don't think anyone is going to argue this point, so let's leave it at that.
2. He's supportive of his friend:
There are going to be a few controversial takes, but I truly believe that Ford was trying to be a good friend to Fiddleford. Now, there were fights between them, and Ford did say quite a few insensitive things both to his face and in the Journal. But overall, I don't think he ever intended to hurt Fiddleford, and he definitely appreciated his friend's company.
When Ford invited Fiddleford to work on the portal, he wrote in the journal: "He (Fiddleford) has sacrificed so much to come to my aid. He has temporarily left his bride and their young son... he has abandoned his own professional aspirations... I must do my best to make him feel at home.... I am off to the store for some banjo strings and microchips!" (quote shortened, because I'm lazy) Clearly, Ford cared about his friend and wanted to make him feel welcome.
He also compliments Fiddleford's "brilliant mind," "amusing quirks" and scrupulous work ethic, by saying "I double-check my equations. He quintuple-checks!"
And I hear you, didn't he claim the complete opposite in the series? According to him, Fiddleford "was wasting his talent trying to make personal computers", right? Well, if we ignore the fact that the creators weren't 100% consistent in their writing, here's how I would reconcile those two statements. Ford thought (erroneously) that his friend's research wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, but it was important to Fiddleford personally. And can you really blame Ford? He was about to demostrate the existence of other dimensions and create a gateway that would allow us to visit them. If something like that happened irl, it would've been a groundbreaking discovery, altering our very understanding of the natural world and how it works. Meanwhile, laptops, at least in Ford's opinion, were just "heavy, slow journals." Still, he knew this work was important to Fiddleford, and he wanted to accommodate that. Hence, his trip to buy microchips (and banjo strings.)
Ford tried (and unfortunately, failed) to help Fiddleford deal with his anxiety. In Journal 3, he mentions teaching Fiddleford some meditation techniques and going to the Carnival, so that Fiddleford would enjoy "a day of relaxation." In the Book of Bill, Ford feels guilty about not getting his friend a gift and decides to throw a surprise Christmas party instead. This was also an attempt to cheer Fiddleford up after his fight with his wife.
"But Ford didn't take Fiddleford's anxiety seriously, and it ruined his life." Okay, let's say you're right. Remember, Ford was raised in the 60s. A time when mental illness or just mental distress were looked down on. What was he supposed to do? Suggest Fiddleford goes to the therapist? I mean, they were studying paranormal creatures, if Fiddleford told those stories to a therapist who didn't believe in these things, there would've been a really high chance of misdiagnosis. Should Ford have simply fired Fiddleford? Well, that wouldn't have been very nice. Also, there is no need to infantilize Fiddleford in the first place, he's a grown-up person capable of makind his own decisions. If the job is too stressful, if the relationship doesn't work out, he has every right to leave, because his life and mental well-being are his responsibility. Instead, he ignored Ford's warnings and decided to use the Memory Gun and start a cult. It was, by the end of the day, Fiddleford's decision. And it's tragic. It really is. No one deserves to lose their family, their mind and their sense of self. It's something Ford feels guilty about, because whether it was intentional or not, he did indirectly contribute to Fiddleford's downfall. That's why, when they finally reunited after 30 years, Ford apologized to Fiddleford. And according to Journal 3, Fiddleford dissmised his apology, leading Ford to say that "Not only is this man's mind superior to mine, but he has one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen."
3. He has no reservations about helping others out:
There's a reason why Ford's the first person people turn to, when there's a problem. He has both the desire and the skills to help people out. Using Dipper's idea, he stops agents from investigating his family. He goes above and beyond just to change a lightbulb in the kitchen. Though morally questionable, he did give the kids a mind control tie with the intent of helping Stan win the elections. In the comics, Stan turns to Ford when Mabel's face is stolen and when Stan himself is cursed by an old chest.
And that's how things were in the past too. In "The Pines Boys in: The Jersey Devil's in the Details", Ford defends his brother, twice. First, when Filbrick accuses Stan of stealing the gold chain from his pawn shop. And then, when the Sibling Brothers offered Ford to let him keep the monster and become famous in exchange for photos that would prove Stan's guilt. And just to add an incentive, they threatened to frame both twins, if Ford didn't comply. Obviously, it didn't work.
According to thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, that's also how he became friends with Fiddleford: on the very first day, he spent nine hours helping his new friend prove his theory. And in the Book of Bill, when Ford learns that Bill's home dimension was destroyed by a monster, his immediate reaction is to offer help with hunting it down.
Whenever someone's in distress, Ford really wants to help them out, and I don't know about you, but to me that doesn't sound like someone lacking empathy.
4. He's got no qualms questioning the status quo:
In Journal 3, Ford mentions traveling to Northwest Manor to confront Old Man Northwest with evidence of his family's deceit. Instead, he was met by young Preston, who wasn't impressed with his speech and forcibly escorted Ford from the premises.
Also in Journal 3, Ford wanted to debate politics with Reagan. Make of that what you will.
Now this one is more of a conjecture, but in the Book of Bill, this is how Bill compliments him: "Guys as smart as you come along once every century, and they scare the pants off of authority figures!" This lie wouldn't have worked, if it wasn't what Ford actually wanted.
And of course, learning that his former "muse" is one of the most feared beings in the entire multiverse, didn't stop Ford from going on a quest to defeat Bill. Even after witnessing other creatures shriek and cover their ears at the mere mention of Bill's name. Which leads me to my next point.
5. Calling him determined would be a massive understatement:
Forget his sleepless nights at college, forget his extensive research in Gravity Falls, Ford has spent 30 years, let me repeat that again, 30 years traveling across dimensions and looking for a way to destroy Bill Cipher. I haven't even been alive for that long! From the little we know about those years, they were anything but easy. In fact, Ford describes them as "frightening, exciting, cruel, and strange." (And of course, the guy actually does use the Oxford comma in his writing. Who would've thought?) Let me stress that Ford was under no obligation to continue his quest, maybe he could've found a quiet dimension to settle down and live peacefully, in fact, that's something he contemplates while visiting A Better World in Journal 3. But he decides against it. Not because he didn't want to, he literally says that he wanted to revel in his parallel self's success. Not because defeating Bill would get him recognition. It wouldn't, at least not in his home dimension, where no one is even aware of the danger. No, he didn't stay, because his own conscience wouldn't allow it. Ford just couldn't break his vow from 30 years ago, it's as simple as that.
And what does he do, when his plans fall apart? Does he even consider giving up? Of course not! In fact, he ends his tale of interdimensional travel with the following sentence: "My resolve to defeat Bill has never been stronger." It's almost comical, watching him throw anything he can think of at Bill and see what might stick. His battle in the Nightmare Realm was interrupted? He jumps through the portal to stop Bill's forces from entering his dimension. The portal created an interdimensional rift? He tries to contain it. Bill threatens to get his hands on the rift? This time Ford has two ideas: he tries to encrypt Dipper's thoughts and creates a mystical barrier around the house. The worst happens and the world is about to end? Well, get in loser, we're going to shoot Bill with Quantum Destabilizer. Ford misses and is captured? Not to worry, there's a Zodiac prophecy, we can give that a try. It doesn't work, because two grown men can't put aside their grievances for just a few seconds, gosh that scene is so frustrating to watch. Well, here is another idea: one can erase Bill with a memory gun as long as he's in someone's mind. I don't know what else to say, Ford really did his homework, when he set out to destroy Bill.
6. He has the patience of a saint:
Wow, now here's a controversial take. Remember Stan's "Beep boop. I am a nerd robot. That's you. That's what you sound like," which Ford just laughs off. Yes, that's what siblings do all the time. And yes, this teasing does come from a place of hurt. Stan was feeling like "the stupid twin," "a dumb idiot who screws everything up," so Ford felt like he just had to put up with this. But it's still hurtful to be mocked for your interests. It really feels like their relationship was already a little strained even before the Science Fair Project Incident.
What about the fact that he was the first to stop the fight in "Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons" and suggesting Stan might actually have fun, if he joined their game?
Or all the snide comments Stan made, when they reunited during Weirdmageddon, including "Well, he's lost his mind" and "You really think some caveman graffiti is gonna stop that monster?" All of which Ford simply ignored. Yes, he did correct Stan's grammar under the worst of circumstances, I agree, but you know, everyone has their pet peeves.
What people often forget is just how difficult it is to be a kind person, when you're stressed. It is much easier to treat people with respect and understanding, when you yourself are doing fine. So is it that big of a surprise, that someone who's under pressure, sleep-deprived and/or in pain might be more prone to outbursts? And we know how traumatic Ford's experience of being bullied as a kid was, how much suffering Bill put him through, how difficult his years on the other side of the portal were and how much pressure he was under, trying to prevent a literal end of the world. It's ironic that the people who blame Ford for his lack of empathy, really don't show him any empathy themselves.
7. Even under torture, he didn't reveal the equation that would've allowed Bill to take over the world:
Do I really have to spell it out? Look, as someone who was on the verge of mental breakdown from a simple toothache, I have nothing else to say other than: This is admirable. And he did it to protect the world that, need I remind you, wasn't particularly kind to him. On the same note, he just never joined Bill in the first place: not in the 80s, and not during Weirdmageddon.
"Oh, but he's the one who started the Apocalypse, so he kind of deserved it." Seriously? No, I mean it, are you being serious? Is that something you would say to a person suffering from diabetes type 2, that it's their fault for eating too many sweets; or to someone with liver cirrhosis that they deserve to suffer because of their alcohol addiction? Because this is neither appropriate, nor helpful. Talk about kicking someone when they're down...
8. He's fiercely loyal to his family:
I think the way Ford compliments his grandniece in "The Last Mabelcorn" is very revealing: "You've protected your family. You're a good person, Mabel." His very definition of a "good person" is "someone who supports and protects their family." Which is... interesting to say the least, considering that Ford has spent a very long time away from his family and completely alone. But it does sound like something he aspires to. That's why he goes out of his way to help his family out, whenever they're in trouble. (See point 3 for more on this.)
When Bill threatens the kids, Ford is willing to risk the entire universe for a slim chance that they might be spared. It's a cruel Trolley Problem, which once again proves just how much he values his family. Still, this is some Fate/Zero level angst and I don't want to talk about it more than I absolutely have to. Let's finish this up with something more lighthearted.
9. He's never lost curiosity and childlike wonder:
This! This is what made me fall in love with the man and why I'm wasting my time writing this nonsense in the first place. This allconsuming excitement, when he finds a new anomaly to study; this seemingly endless energy, when he explores new places; this pure joy, when he gets to play DD&MD with Dipper! I don't know how to talk about it without gushing.
Ford obviously loves games, and not just DD&MD. He plays chess with Bill. He mentions being great at charades in the comics. And what cracks me up the most: during Weirdmageddon, when Pacifica compared the Zodiac to a game of hopscotch, not only did not Ford get offended, but he replied: "It would be a pretty fun game of hopscotch." Ford, darling, the world is about to end, is this really the best time to contemplate a hypothetical game of hopscotch? Also, you've just been through something traumatic... Forget it, you've been through 3 decades of traumatic experiences, can you at least have the decency to become a tad more cynical as you age, like the rest of us. I guess, mirth really is the mail of anguish. (It's from Emily Dickinson's poem and the quote means that some people act cheerful to hide their suffering.)
Also, something Ford doesn't get enough credit for, mostly because people usually focus on his academic achievements, but he is quite creative. He draws incredibly detailed sketches not only depicting various anomalies he encounters, but also whatever happens in his life. (Probably off-topic, but I find the implications of that karaoke page so funny. Think about it: the guy sobered up, looked at the incomprehensible nonsense he had written the previous night and thought: "You know what? This could really use an illustration.") Also don't forget that he canonically plays piano. Yeah, if I were Stan, I'd be jealous too.
And of course, that's why he's so passionate about science. Sure, part of him wants the fame and recognition that would come, if he makes a big discovery, but you can't deny that he genuinely enjoys learning new things. And that he enjoys sharing them with whoever is willing to listen.
In conclusion, I'm not trying to say that Ford is perfect in every way and has never done a single wrong thing in his life. To be honest, that would've made him a really boring character. So, yes, he is flawed, and misguided, and sometimes insensitive. He's made a lot of missteps because of his upbringing, personality and, as many have speculated, neurodivergence. But I really take issue with people saying Ford's a bad person, when he clearly isn't. Ford is and always was a good person, and by the end of all the trials he became a better person. One who understands that the only way to success is cooperation, not being a lone vigilante. That it's not a weakness to ask for help or to need help in the first place. And that a sea otter shared is a sea otter halved.
That's strange... why did I write that?
#and they told me i couldn't write useless fluff pieces#honestly jokes on you ford haters#no one can hate ford more than he already hates himself#and that is somewhat comforting#not beta read#but my mom read a google translation of it#yeah i don't know what i was thinking#i kind of hoped she would give up after 2 paragraphs#this is my one thousandth post on this subblog#gravity falls#stanford pines#character analysis#i guess
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