#this is really long and rambly but i think most of my thoughts got in there
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──★ ˙🎀 ̟ !! BOWS & BABES
⌗ after some troubles with your hair, joel lends a hand
jackson!joel x younger!girlfriend!reader
꩜ .ᐟ cw :: bigass age gap (late fifties + late twenties) , passing mentions of spanking because im a freak, reader is kind of a brat because im a freak, reader has that type of hair where it’s not straight but also not curly so it’s just poofy (aka my hair type) because I want to feel better about myself :3
꩜ .ᐟ note :: extremely self indulgent oops ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ and also kinda short but not short enough to be a drabble so this got slapped into a mini fic 😇🎀
���Joel!” Not this shit again. He doesn’t give a response, too busy sitting down on the bed after a long day. Not even five minutes inside and you’re already shouting for him. Let the old man catch a break.
”Joel! My hair’s being a cunt again!”
“Can you not use that word?”
“Cunt! Cunt, cunt, cunt!”
One day, you’re going to end up bald. Or spanked. Depends if he can get his hands on a decent pair of scissors. You emerge from the bathroom with your hair sticking up all nine ways and it takes a lot in him not to snicker at the sight. There’s a busted hair brush in your hand and tears of frustration beading at your waterline and yeah, he shuts the fuck up real fast.
“Oh god,” he sighs and before he knows it, he’s patting the space next to him on the bed. “Come here. Lemme fix that for you.”
Surprisingly, you listen to him for once. You shuffle your way to the bed and lay down next to him on your stomach, face smushed against the mattress. Well, something is something. You’re awfully finicky when it comes to your hair, claiming that it’s destined to always make you look ugly. Which is a crazy statement because hair is literally just hair. It doesn’t take away from your cute smiles and silly nose scrunches. But then again, once upon a dinosaur age, he was just like you. A twenty-something year old who was always stressing about his appearance and whatnot. So he’ll indulge you and fix your problems, no matter how small they may seem.
He takes the poofy strands in his hands and just because, he gives them a little tug, earning a hiss and dirty look from you. “Don’t be a brat. Lift your head up, I’m gonna braid your hair.”
And it’s like Christmas has come early because you listen to him again, raising your head and propping yourself up a bit on your forearms. He shifts his body to face you better and takes a gentle hand to rake his fingers through your hair, tutting at you when he sees the evident sight of breakage. No doubt from the amount of times you’ve mangled your hair with that damn brush.
“Didn’t know you could braid hair.”
Your little mumble breaks him out of his train of thoughts and just hearing the disbelief in your voice makes him chuckle. “You’d be surprised. Now be good and don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry.” His free hand slides to the base of your throat, forcing you a bit more up so he can land a kiss on the top of your head. And there you go, the furrow in your brow disappearing and the tension in your shoulders easing away. Not to be an ass, but Joel finds it amusing how easy it is to keep you happy. All it takes is a few kisses and tender words to unwind you from the fit you got yourself in.
“I don’t know why my hair is like this,” you huff, fiddling some ribbons in your hand. No doubt what you planned to use to tie your hair up. He listens to you ramble as he parts your hair into two sets of three sections. Pigtail braids because they’re cute and you’re cute. Not the most equal sections but it’ll do. Please don’t let me fuck this up is all he can really think of but it’s okay, he’s got this.
“I mean, it’s not pin straight. But it’s not curly either. Just poofy. It’s straight when I get it wet. Sometimes there’s little waves in there when it dries. But it’s so frizzy and gets all knotted so I have to brush it out and then it gets all ruined. I hate this. My hair’s a bitch.”
At least you didn’t say cunt. Makes me wanna laugh when you say that he thinks to himself with a scoff.
All he can really do is click his tongue and sigh as you talk, more focused on making sure he’s criss-crossing your hair right. You’ll forgive him later when he gets this right.
Maybe in another life you could’ve gone to a salon and inquired about your hair type, maybe pick up a product or two to manage the frizz or help form a wave pattern. But with the way things are now, the braids are the best you’re getting.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, sweet pea. But, I’ll be honest with you. There ain’t nothing ugly about your hair. Puffy? Yes. A little tricky to manage? Sure. But it ain’t ugly. You’re not ugly, are you? Of course not, you’re as cute as a button. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Or I’ll fucking make you bald.” He gives the now-completed braids another tug and smiles when you yelp, a satisfied warmth blooming in his chest when he sees you smile back at his antics. That’s his baby, through and through.
“Alright, alright. I’ll shut the fuck up. Here.” You hand him the ribbons and he takes his time wrapping them around the end of your braids, tying them into near bows like how you taught him. He thinks they’re near-perfect too, not to brag. They better be because he didn’t sit still for an hour watching you tie silly bows on his bicep for nothing.
“And there we go!” Joel announces, patting your head as he admires his handiwork. Bows and babes: his favorite. Not bad for an old man. Not bad at all. You roll over to your back and sit up, clambering your way into his lap like you own it. Well, you technically did but damn, at least ask first.
“Hi.”
“Hi, sweet pea. What happened to asking if we can sit in someone’s lap?”
“Shut up.” He really should spank you for that but you press a kiss to his cheek and whatever, he can maybe let that slide for once. You looked too damn adorable in those pigtail braids. Too damn sweet nuzzling your cheek against his, little giggles leaving your lips as his stubble tickles your face. You’re going to be the death of him one day but what a lovely death that would be, to die at the hands of your affection.
“Joel,” you whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Little minx, sending shivers down his spine as you practically purr at him. “Thanks for braiding my hair. I’m sorry for being an ass. Love you!” Another quick kiss, to his lips so fleeting he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attentive. Damn tease. And your nose rubbing against his like you’re some kind of bunny? You’re absolutely going to kill him one day and it’ll be the best day of his life.
“You weren’t an ass, just a bit of brat. And I love you too, sweet pea.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#tlou#tlou game#I wrote this with game Joel in mind#i need that old man#got me feeling like freaky sonic 😈#⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ fics
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Heeeyyyyy it's me again lolll, sooooo have you checked out love and deep space (otome game with fighting monsters)? If not then you should, there are many hot characters there, i was rereading you paternal privileges and thought that "oh this is so zayne(one of the characters from love and deep space)" cuz if he's going to have a twisted side this really matches him well
Yeahhh, heyyyy. Prepare for unstructured Fang Dokja rambling.
Glad to see that you're also enjoying and reading the other stories. Paternal Privilege vibed more in Ao3 than in Tumblr, but I personally liked it as well. One of my first sex stories in general. Got lots of practice in it. And, in Ao3, people loved the ending haha. Thanks for sharing your input on it. It's appreciated :))
OK. I knew I'd get this question one day. And, I know some of you are Love and Deepspace (LaDs) fans (and also K-pop fans, especially you guys, I don't know why you're following me ahahhaha, but it's welcomed. Sorry, don't know much about K-pop like I hardly know DC).
OK SO! Of course I know this game! I played the game it was inspired by, Mr. Love Queen's Choice for more than 3 years! DADDYYYY VICTORRRR. I still have my account, whahhaha. Yes. This is bringing back memories.
And in Love and Deepspace's early release, like official first day, I was there! So, yes, I've played it.
Playstyle and graphics were cool. And, as a competitive gamer in general, ofc it was right up my alley. A bit clunky at first release, needed some adjustments, but generally good. It was way better in terms of graphics than Mr. Love, especially the interface and menus.
Though, I'd say what turned me off is I related more to the MC of Mr. Love than LaDs. Didn't really vibe with the MC of LaDs, a bit too emotional and outspoken for my tastes. Felt ENFJ (sorry, can't relate AT ALL to ENFJ's and ESFJ's especially) not gonna lie hahhahha. But, it's been so long since I played, so sorry if I get details wrong. Anyways...
I was just not vibing with the MC, and low-key plot as well. But, then again, maybe I expected too much. It usually happens when I do. I get so excited than it falls short of my expectations, and then I'm like ehh. So I just low key turn off my brain. It's also to prevent myself from spoiling myself. You have no idea how many times I've unwittingly spoiled myself in ANY fandom! It's genuinely unreal. So, it's like I have to stop thinking so I don't ruin those "huzzah" or "woahhh" moments for myself as a reader or audience.
Ok, back to the topic.
Why am I not making yandere content on it? Simple.
Because of this RULE:
Some characters remind of me of real life people too much, like for example, most “soft” and “green flag characters”. Reminds me of my friend’s boyfriend. And that person is gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. It’s fricking weird. But in general, most reasons I don’t write certain characters is because it reminds me too much of people I know in real life.
My friend and I don't share stories. AT ALL. That includes any fandom, manga, anime, manhwa, video games, etc. There are some exceptions, but usually we have separate fandoms.
So, when I introduced this game to share with my friend. Majority of the characters, from the graphics to their behavior, fit my friend's boyfriend more. Reminded her of him more.
Didn't really find anyone that reminded me of my husband (only 4 main guys before). I do play games, or do anything really to spend time with him. And even in things like this, I do this so I can analyze my husband, think about him and brainstorm, etc. Just basically husband simping for me.
So, in conclusion, probably not gonna talk a lot about Love and Deepspace. And besides, I don't think the MC is like me anyway, so it's fine. I just have to not look at ANY fanart, 'cause man IT IS EVERYWHERE. I have to LITERALLY avoid it like the plague so I don't tempt myself.
Uh... I have a gaming addiction. HAHHAHAHA
Sorry, but strict rules being obeyed here as well in the friendship. We DO NOT SHARE STORIES. End of story. Hope you guys understand, though.
Yes, we're weird.
WARNING: The information below is just extra husband simping. Proceed with caution.
God, I am waiting for official international release of this game ESPECIALLY (when it comes to otome games):
My LORD, I will waiitttttt. If it's possible to release, Your will be done!! haha
As you can tell, I'm weak to muscles ahahahahahahhahahaha. Why? I love my husband so much, he's so handsome. I am weak.
OSBORN I JUST KNOW IT'S OSBORN aghhhh. especially him. But seriously. huuu well, my husband doesn't like talking about himself with anyone else besides me, so just have to use "analogies" like characters lollll.
Though, none can compare to my husband, of course. He's leagues above anyone else huuuuuuu. I love him so much.
I also told you guys. I relate to these memes. VERY. VERY. VERY MUCH.
You have no idea.
WAHAHHAHAH.
*exposes self*
But, I just love my husband so much. So, so, so much.
Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter
Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege
He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.
🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.
🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.
🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.
🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.
She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.
#fangdokja rambles#fangdokja answers#love and deepspace#lads#lads zayne#lads sylus#lads xavier#lads rafayel#love and deep space#lads mc#love and deepspace mc#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace sylus#otome game#english otome#dating sim#video games#gaming#games#videogames#retro gaming#game recap#author things#author thoughts#fanfic authors#author notes#writerscommunity#male yandere#mr love queen's choice#mr love victor
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No no ikr. The ENT fandom is so quiet around here. And honestly I'm just excited to see art of my favourite dudes, because we rarely get fanart around here, and when we do it's usually Trip or T'Pol solely. Malcolm gets left in the dust quite a lot so I'm happy you drew him as well - and so well done too!
Anyway, ramble over, lol.
OMG... Well I think I can see why a lot of fanart is of Trip and/or T'pol (those two seem like they're doing some heavy lifting for the show/are just a lot of people's faves. I've got a few half baked ideas in mind for them myself.) but the rest of the crew as a whole do deserve more love I think! :]
#(I'm hijacking this ask to talk about some ENT thoughts in the tags LMAO sorry 😭🙏)#I've been watching it for the first time with some friends who are also watching it for the first time with me like 90% of the time.#When Reed was introduced we did our silly little “omg. why is he british 😰” jokes but personally-#he has grown on me a lot. Very much my type of character so far I think... :]#ive got a few sketches involving him that wont see the light of day because they require five levels of inside jokes from my watch party 😭#but god. for the most part I like all the main crew characters#the only one I'm not 100% on is archer and i dont even know how to articulate why.#like I don't HATE him. but he is also very fun to dunk on.#and i enjoy scott bakula very much. its crazy how like. not intriguing or charming I find his depiction of archer mmmmmost of the time#which sucks bc i KNOW it could be awesome. but its not really there for me yet.... oh well.#but god. i wish i could go back in time and force some improvements into the way the show was handled.....#my list of demands. quit the excessive sexualisation of t'pol and hoshi. can we PLEASE stop underutilising mayweather. and honestly-#i think a bit more dramatic visual variety between the main human cast would help a bit#now its time to end MY ramble yet again 😭 i feel like if i talk about ent for too long i'll inevitably start complaining-#despite me still having a mostly enjoyable time... all that stuff just really feels kicked up to 11 compared to previous treks tho 😔#but its only bc i care 💔 i see so much potential where the writers really borked their shit#telegraff#themurdochmemesteries#i might get around to a few more doodles or meme redraws but i can never guarantee anything when I have a whole queue of stuff-#that needs to be done before I can draw whatever I want. but by god. the ideas and concept drafts are there. 💪💪💪😤#:] <3
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I need to talk about Minecraft AU for a sec and how the difference between our world and their world makes for some of the most humorous but also interesting differences in how people act about certain subjects.
Like the trans thing right. Steve and Rana are both trans I've talked about that before. And neither of them are on hormone replacement or anything (there is an in universe explanation as to why Steve has a beard though I promise I can talk about that if anyone wants) but like that's fine bc it literally Doesn't Matter to them or anyone else. Like as spawned players they already don't have any pre-existing gender roles or ideas of what something "should" be so gender and presentation is what they make of it and there's no real solid idea in anyone's mind about how a "boy" or "girl" behaves or looks like. These are labels that exist but they barely mean anything. It also helps that any preexisting culture that WOULD have ideas of this was almost entirely destroyed like 5000 years ago (thanks Groda) so it matters even less than it already did.
And its funny bc the only two people alive from that era, White Eyes and Groda also just don't care. Groda maybe asks why Rana's voice sounds deeper once and nearly gets torn apart by Alex bc of it (Rana isn't offended or anything she just has a defensive girlfriend), bc she doesn't really understand because she never experienced anything like this first hand but very quickly comes to understand it and accept it. And on the other hand White Eyes is just like "I've seen weirder things than this" which yeah. Yeah honestly I think the person who was previously one with the undead would not care about gender in the grand scheme of things.
And then u have Kai which I've joked before that they may as well have been spawned in nonbinary. They rlly just said "I'm not really anything" and everyone was like yeah makes sense I vibe with it. Good for u.
Steve and Rana are both fairly open about having been the opposite genders previously (because that's how they view their experiences and that's valid!) and don't really shy away from the subject but also never really have much reason to talk about it since there's rarely a need to. In the modern day pretty much everyone who met them had met them post-transition. Even Alex had met them just before Steve started growing in his beard. The only people who ever knew them as Adam and Eve were Efe and Sunny but they never really thought it was weird or anything. Like the weirdest part to them was Steve saying he got his epiphany from seeing some guy in the distance on a foggy day who looked vaguely like him but that's its own subject manner that they aren't going to pry on.
Also Steve did DIY top "surgery" previously with a sword but we aren't going to talk about how messy that was for everyone involved.
#minecraft#minecraft au mastertag#apologies for my trans ramblings. how i get to approach these subject matters in the AU is just fun#and i needed to get some thoughts out#unrelated fun fact that i think most people here dont know: Steve and Alex were actually the first two to be in a committed relationship#not Steve and Rana like most would (rightfully) expect#this is because despite the fact that the two have literally know eachother for their entire lives#they're both really bad at being honest with themselves.#for years it was 'i like this person but i dont know how to tell them'#to 'well maybe i only FEEL like i like them because i dont know anyone else that well'#to 'well maybe they dont feel the same and it'd be weird to bring it up now'#you've heard of slow burn now get ready for what those two had going on#Alex when integrated into the household and months had passed actually had enough confidence to ask#here's the funny part though. she had assumed that Steve and Rana WERE dating already (and was cool with it obviously)#they were not.#so u can imagine how funny it is for Steve to hear 'Your girlfriend is pretty' out of Alex's mouth bc of that#She's more shocked that they're NOT dating already they live in the same house they've known eachother for literally their entire existence#they are like so stupidly affectionate with eachother to boot#'And you've known her for how long??' 'I mean... about 10 years?' 'DUDE.'#its actually agonizing but on the bright side it is what got the polycule started eventually#I would not be surprised if Sunny and Efe placed bets on if/when it would eventually happen
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ash and s.ugiura do get engaged someday, and it's always so heartwarming thinking about s.ugiura visiting his sister before he pops the question. him by her grave with a soft smile on his face, telling her about how he's never been happier, how he knows that this girl is his soulmate.
back when she was alive, she had that line about how sometimes she worries about her little bro. but she doesn't have to worry anymore. he's so happy.
#i just know she's so proud of him#he says that he was really different in the past. his sister's bf described him as very shy and quiet#and he calls himself when he was a teenager a 'shut-in fuckup'#he's come so far and he's been through so much and I'm just so proud of him#ash does actually have his sister's blessing though! in the first game remember that scene when they all see her ghost because they just#fell out of a building and are concussed out of their minds? instead of seeing flashbacks of her like y.agami and s.ugiura#ash gets to talk to her for a bit. his sister says that she trusts Ash and that she knows her brother has chosen well#we didn't know his sister for long but she's so important to me. she's a big part of our ship even if she passed years before ash and#s.ugiura started to date. they name their daughter after her and their daughter is quite a bit like her actually ajdjajs#i just have so many thoughts about that part of the first game. everything with his sister and her boyfriend just stuck with me#it's such a tragic tale#but there's a lot of comfort in knowing that she approves of their relationship and that she's watching over them#and there's no doubt in my mind that she's so fucking proud of her little brother#i did find a post about how in the second game s.ugiura is already older that his sister ever got to be and i just went '.. oh. ouch. ouch'#just some sleepy rambles since i think about that a lot. the first time they visit her grave together is a really big moment in their#relationship because s.ugiura gets to introduce the two most important people in his life to each other. ok I'm going to bed now gn fr lol#ash rambles 💚#mask off 🎭
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every time i so much as think about that scene where light looks at porn magazines while scowling i go into hysterics its genuinely the funniest thing i've ever seen
#the funniest thing is is that i truly believe he thought he was being 100% convincing. that that's normal behavior for a completely straight#completely allosexual man#light is fucking awful and i hate him but also there's nuance to him. and sometimes i can get a little like. oh thinking about his life#before the series. specifically factoring in my headcanons about him being gay aroace and autistic and stuff. ppl have written some rlly#good fics surrounding those topics.... but yeah thats not even canon stuff but i dont care#anyways its not in a way of making excuses for how he is i just think it adds more to his character#hes total garbage but i think theres really interesting stuff with him when it comes to how he's.... VERY disconnected from others#just in general. he's like aware of how to act ''normal'' on like the most textbook surface level without being like. Aware enough to#be able to make it more convincing. and as ridiculous as it is i do see some of myself in him in that sense#also that person who said light and L is just autistic guy who's been masking his entire life vs autistic guy who's never masked in his#entire life. LITERALLY EXACTLY. genuinely perfect way to describe them they are both so similar when it comes to this#but the ways they go about it are very different. light has been playing the part of the perfect son his whole life. L doesnt try to change#himself for anyone and doesnt care when people think hes weird. both of them arent very socially aware and havent had any real friends#their whole lives. its such a fascinating parallel between them#i could go on a whole fucking thing about how light was pretending to be someone he's not around his family and at school and everything#long before he got the death note BUT. i wont. at least not right now#jesus christ how did i go from laughing about him with the magazine to this. my bad#derailed my own damn post. idk swagever#will say rq tho. watched a vid on youtube that pointed out how light expected his family to think nothing of the fact that he's gone to#such drastic measures to hide his diary when making the plan with hiding the death note which is like#that level of dedication would NOT be normal. so the fact that light expects his family to think nothing of it......#i mean you could read that as light just once again being socially unaware. but it could also imply that light's family kind of Knows#he's hiding something and just doesn't address it. (he's gay. im talking about him being gay)#the video also referenced this comic that i didnt rb cause the actual premise of it (lawlight wedding) is um.#not at all my kind of thing. BUT it was light describing himself as a house with a basement when his family sees him as a one story house#and i thought that was such a cool analogy#ANYWAYYYSSSS i need to go to bed. thanks if you read my ramblings#serena.txt#death note posting#infizero.analysis
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time a flat circle why the hell am i usin the same loafers i bought for one cosplay of my fave antagonist for another fave antagonist
#snap chats#can i even call it cosplay. why are police sirens going off in the bg oh my god shut UP#anyway yeah ill elaborate. Super Snap Stalkers will remember my p4 era and will remember the time i did in fact do an adachi cosplay#i deleted the og post like an hour later. plus that blog's gone. but im sure some freak can find it if they dig hard enough#ew i think i was 17/18 in that pic (not at all that long ago) ok anyway.#i use the same loafers for my aoki outfit. and yeah i do Regularly wear my rgg outfits i TOLD YOU its functional cosplay i QUIT#just funny that like.... damn everything always goes back to square one LOL#these busted ass old ass loafers still rockin with me years later#if im feeling cheeky i think i will post all my rgg outfits actually. for halloween#hang on gotta be depressed and cringe for a moment#cause ive always liked cosplay but whenever i did it it never felt. Good Looking#like i always just felt like my face never worked for the charas i wanted to portray and so thats why i say with a heavy heart#that aoki's round-ass square-ass head is perfect LOL it makes me wanna throw up looking in the mirror#i got the same weird lips. ok not that squished Similar but Its Awful that he makes me feel comfortable with my face now#at least my eyebags arent double deckered... i at least look like i get sleep.. some days.#breaking !!!! objectively one of the most vile bitches in this franchise makes you feel comfortable with your body and existence#NAW to continue from last post if i had a webcam i prob coulda done a cosplay y7 stream LOL thatd be funny#anyway since this tag ramble is just pure cringe let me round it off with a final bit of cringe#the Forbidden Mention of my trans masato hc cause one reason why i have a Teehee over the thought is how raspy his voice is#and i only really now realized how right i was tonight because my prof called on me to speak and when i tried speaking DAWG.#the forbidden acknowledgement of Myself GROSS#BUT DAWG MY THROAT WAS FUCKIN CRUSTY it felt like sandpaper EW?? WATER FOR YOU?? christ. i hope that was just a one-time thing#ok im leaving now BYE
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Late night calls with friends that make you feel warm and loved, being complimented by strangers, seeing updates from gfm campaigns where ppl can safely start their new life after reaching their goal, getting progress in things I've worked hard on like nailing down a part of a new song or getting a job offer
#small small things too like the children in the neighborhood waving to me and walking back from work#being excited to bake a certain recipe or try a recipe from a video my friend is going to send me#maybe this life can still be nice and hopeful as long as i work towards it#there are some things in this life that i have to accept I'll live without and never have but it doesn't make me broken i think#i think i can still make the most out of my life and live warmly and without regrets and full of love for the people i care about#i just really love my friends it's crazy I don't think they'll ever know how warmly i think of them sometimes#it's the tism i like found family and im really lucky to have found friends that are like family who will offer to cook for me sjdhjdkdkd#love is in the soup!!!#love is stored in the broth ive made in your kitchen in the crockpot. the tupperware of soup i sent over to your house when you were alone.#love is in the hotpot we sat around the table and played card games with. in the bowl of noodles we split to save money.#for me food really is a love language and I don't think i could really explain it other than the gist of found family#even if i can't eat anymore. i still am excited by the thought of cooking when it's to feed the people i love#kk rambles#it's got a little kick to it tn
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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
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could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴
▷ Delicate
Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k
A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]
★ Nanami Kento
While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.
He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.
You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.
When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.
It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.
Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.
Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.
You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.
Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.
"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.
Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.
You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."
His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"
"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.
Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."
"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"
His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."
That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.
"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."
"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"
"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.
You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.
Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.
"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.
You smile, "Weak?"
"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.
The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.
Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.
Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.
His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.
Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.
Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.
"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."
He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.
You hum, "I suppose."
And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.
Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.
His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.
Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.
You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.
"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.
His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.
With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.
"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.
You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"
"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.
You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.
Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.
Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.
You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.
Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.
"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.
You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."
Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.
Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.
His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.
Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.
"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"
His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.
Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"
"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."
There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.
And maybe one day you will.
But tonight?
Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.
★ Choso Kamo
You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.
You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.
Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.
And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.
Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.
Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.
That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.
Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."
You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.
Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.
You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.
And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.
Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.
He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.
"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.
His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.
God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.
His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.
It was nasty but... he liked it that way.
"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.
Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.
But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.
"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.
Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"
His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.
Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.
And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.
Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.
★ Ino Takuma
Is this even surprising?
Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.
And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.
So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.
Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.
So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.
Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.
He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.
Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.
"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.
"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.
He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.
You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."
Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.
Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.
He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."
You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.
He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.
A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."
"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.
"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.
Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.
"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.
"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."
Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"
Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.
There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?
Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.
Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.
He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.
Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.
"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."
"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.
Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.
You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?
It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?
Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-
Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.
Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."
"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.
Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.
You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."
"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"
"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.
Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.
Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.
It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.
Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.
There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.
It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.
Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.
But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.
You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.
Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.
And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."
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Office Hours
Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: A few months into working back at the mansion and Logan still can't keep his hands off you. A/N: This is vaguely tied to my other Logan fic "No One Knows…" but not at all required reading. All you need to really know is reader is a returning X-Man that can control Earth/ rocks and is codenamed Dozer (Short for Bulldozer) Warnings: S M U T, medium plot??? but mostly just porn, established relationship, under desk blowjobs, office sex, light dom/ sub, a single spank possessive Logan (Someone needs to put me down)
AO3 if you prefer to read there
Logan Masterlist
_______
The morning light pours in through the windows of your bedroom. Logan holds you close against him in bed while you, less than enthusiastically, try to squirm out of his grasp.
A few months back into your old life at X-mansion and you can confidently say it was the best decision you’d ever made in a long, long time. All the kids returned to a brand new environmental science teacher and a newly reconstructed mansion that somehow looked almost exactly the same— give or take a few changes to the gardens.
You’d missed this, you missed being part of the X team, whether it was as an X-Man or just a teacher. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making a real tangible difference in people's lives.
Yes, you desperately wanted to return to your roots and start over— but he was also a nice perk to all the chaos.
Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please.
Neither of you could keep your hands off each other.
It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.
You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting.
You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him.
You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong.
Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't.
You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together.
Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class.
“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.
“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”
“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.
This fucking man.
You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.
“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.
“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do.
“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean.
“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you.
You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.
Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry.
You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.
“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes.
“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.
“Would you prefer daddy?”
His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”
You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.
“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door.
“See you out there, toots.”
______
There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way.
You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection.
You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.
You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.
Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway. Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do.
He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while.
You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made.
You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced.
It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.
You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.
You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.
______
You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately.
“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk.
He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.
“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”
“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.
He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.
Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.
“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”
Absolutely insatiable.
“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”
You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time.
You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.
There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue.
You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick.
The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm.
“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”
He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen.
A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers.
His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.
“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice.
“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.
“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out.
“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied.
You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting.
“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”
“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”
He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth.
“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.
“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”
There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work.
“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”
“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”
You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.
Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway.
“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him.
Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.
He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too.
“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”
He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.
“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”
“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation.
You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy.
He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?
“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”
His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now.
You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.
It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.
“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”
“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off.
He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear.
“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”
He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible.
Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak.
“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”
You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky.
“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all.
“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”
You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.
You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit.
“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”
“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief.
“I know, baby. I know.”
It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point.
He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.
“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer.
Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft.
“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his.
“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close.
“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.
“You can’t fire an X-Man.”
“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous.
“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice.
“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little.
You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.
Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.
You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”
“Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”
#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#Logan smut#x men
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[tags via @sunnydayaoe] . helll yes thank you thank you i love your fresh thoughts. now fresh and dust? hrmm scratching my chin
im trying to think of dust on their own. outside of being under nightmare since it’s not a setting im particularly interested in at the moment. i guess imagine him in the omega timeline somewhere. someplace secluded and where theyre left alone and are able to act independently. but then they see fresh around? and is a bit curious and investigates
on their own i Dont think dust would seek out companionship in fresh and fresh wouldnt seek out companionship in dust (so this is just me putting my toys together [metaphorically]) i think dust would find fresh’s oddness refreshing but in a nervous way. who is this guy. why do they look like that and talk like that and why do i have a feeling that this guy knows More than me. i feel like fresh would make dust feel like prey
dust, after everything, just wants peace. or punishment (in his mind) and being alone and separating themself from people that they associate with that past would help, or they think it will. fresh is Different. fresh is New. and that gives dust something to think about outside of their own thoughts and be curious about for a while. maybe they will grow to like it. maybe it will become all he thinks about. with a quiet life and nothing to do what is there but to think? develop hobbies, sure, but theyre anxious.
i think of dust as keeping to themself and since fresh also does that i push them together with dust developing a curiosity and then fresh also develops one too, probably to a lesser degree. dust isnt trying to take over the world and is kind of just? a guy at this point. unstable and with his own set of issues but ultimately just a guy. not a god or an entity or something between that- just a guy
critter… and critter (guy). they both find each other fascinating for different reasons and i want to explore thatt
tags:
#ouwh exiting news...#trying to think of how to describe fresh#he's a cameo. I think. he Tries to be a cameo#he doesn't want to be a major part of anybodys story. but he still wants to show up. something familier but also unfamilier#he's like... something who drops by. if you want somthing more. you need to like... put quite a bit of effort in. because he's not going to#he's surface level#to be closer invites just... too much. the idea that he could be in anyway a Major part of someone elses story would freak him out al ittle#He likes to be scary. but he doesn't like to be Provably a threat. he's just a bit of a freak you don't really know is even real.#??? this is rambly I might not be saying anythign of substance at all#but yeha.. mani thesis... he's just oem Guy you dont' really know the motives of but yous ee around sometimes.#someone who seems aggresively open but once you start paying attention is actually extreamly cagey#reblog#also ANYYYY thoughts you have on fresh and dust please share them with me I like them but I am. bad at figuring out dust
whatever bro. fresh having more relationships outside of error and geno and how they interact. who is fresh to people. how does he fit into the world (or doesnt fit if you want to go that way). are they scared of him. do they warm to each other eventually. grr grr grr
#this really rambly i just got homeeee gahh#go my he/they dust#im imagining dust developing some kind of fixation on fresh#unhealthy… most likely. but im thinking still#reblog#tooth thoughts#oh what in the YAP#tooth rambles#long post#sunnydayaoe
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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism
Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.
My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)
This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)
And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.
And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.
In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.
That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,
“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”
I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.
I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).
Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.
If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!
Sincerely, a tumblr user.
#exiavojtmmc#hermitcraft#matpat#gt#game theory#hc#mcyt#evil xisuma#hbomberguy#plagiarism#james somerton#jeff the minion#mine#micer2012#hcs9
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(please) spare me indignity
pt 3
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.
a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero
wc: 5k
warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet
You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies.
You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it.
You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box.
There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy.
He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break.
“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”
You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”
“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”
He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.”
“What are you, a broken record?”
“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?”
“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.”
“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well.
“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.”
“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”
“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?”
It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.
“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.”
You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open.
It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good.
You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home.
You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere.
This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.
Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.
“What?” you ask.
“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”
“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”
“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”
Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.
“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”
Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”
You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”
“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”
“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away.
You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would.
It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again.
“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out.
You frown. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!”
“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”
“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”
“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.”
He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it.
“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask.
“No,” he says.
“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.”
“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before.
“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”
“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says.
Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.
“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”
Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—
“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.
“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”
Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it.
“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”
“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”
“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”
You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest.
“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.”
You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back.
You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.
Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?
You, apparently.
You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason.
If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him.
Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself.
You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care.
You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away.
“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls.
You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly.
A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person.
“Can I help at all?”
This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”
Again, more silence.
“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”
You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”
“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”
The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”
“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”
“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”
You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.”
-
You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off.
It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are.
Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?
You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room.
“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn.
“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—”
You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look.
“I’m so good at so many other things.”
“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?”
“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”
“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask.
He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.”
“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”
“Then open a window.”
“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says.
“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation.
Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”
You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize.
“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.”
“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.”
“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.”
You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you.
“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one.
“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.”
You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it.
“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks.
“Fine,” you say.
He frowns. “Really?”
“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.”
“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—”
“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt.
“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says.
You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”
“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”
“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?”
“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—”
“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.”
“Am I not allowed to joke?”
“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.”
“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.”
He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?”
“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.”
“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—”
“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?”
“A couple spoonfuls but—”
“Spoonfuls?”
“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends.
“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask.
“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”
“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.”
He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.”
Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?”
“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.”
“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you.
“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says.
“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?”
Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.”
You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine.
“Do they have any leads?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.”
You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?”
“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.”
“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than usual, but you drink it anyway.
“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.”
“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.”
“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.”
“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.”
“Then don’t say everything so seriously.”
You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out.
“Want one?”
“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.”
“You should.”
“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock.
“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.”
You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?”
Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.”
You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.”
“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response.
It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now.
Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that.
You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.
-
Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much.
It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever.
But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him.
This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.
Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true.
Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace.
But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion.
He always notices your eyes.
Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?”
“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”
“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.”
Spencer sits up. “What is it?”
“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.”
“Who is it?” he asks.
“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—”
“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.”
“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”
Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”
“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks.
“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.”
“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”
“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.”
“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?”
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.”
“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”
“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”
Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.”
“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.”
There’s nothing but silence on the other end.
“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—”
“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.”
“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—”
“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?”
“...Some,” Spencer says.
“Like?”
Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him.
“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.”
“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.”
Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.”
“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.
“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says.
“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.”
“Spencer—”
“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?”
“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”
Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him.
His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom.
Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you.
He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach.
“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear.
“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters.
He hangs up without another word.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#gideon!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds angst#x reader#sadie writes#and yes. reader heard spencer's whole side of the convo<3
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
…
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
masterlist
#theo nott#theodore nott#theo nott fluff#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#fluff#fanfic#hp universe#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#x fem!reader#theo nott x fem!reader#friends to lovers
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Right??? Thanks so much! I actually first fell in love with Jo's character when RGGJo's voice lines came out haha, so it's super fun to be able to share them.
But I can think of a couple of reasons for the wild personality gap, and for me it starts at their respective roles. Obviously main antagonist and major supporting character are going to draw different levels of attention to themselves, but I think it's chiefly that RGGJo is not just Jo, but he's both Jo and Masato as one character.
RGGJo is much, much closer in age to Ichi, and though they're not "twins" like Ichi and Masato are (RGGJo is a little more than 2 years older), it's thematically there I think. The whole "twin dragonfish," dark and light, two sides of the same coin kind of thing.
And just as Ichi was initially conceptualized as a sort of "greatest hits compilation" of the previous protagonists' most compelling traits, I think there's a strong case for RGGJo being the same for the previous antagonists--specifically Nishiki, Ryuji, and Mine, who are pretty clearly Yokoyama's favorites anyway lol.
I have a feeling casting has something to do with it as well. RGGJo's actor, Hiroki Takahashi, is actually the exact same age as he is, and he's voiced his fair share of fun, flamboyant villains. If I wanted to speculate, he's also voiced his fair share of BL, so that may be why RGGJo's voice lines have a Certain Slant to them; directing his delivery to capitalize on his established appeal (although he has quite a range) makes sense.
Tsutsumi is also only a few years off from Y7Jo, and he was cast for having the dignity and screen presence to "make every word feel like it might have a deeper meaning." Yokoyama (and Takeuchi) wrote the games, he and Nagoshi handled the casting, and Yokoyama generally handles the voice direction for the main story, so a lot of it's specific to his vision.
Within that context I think it's relevant that he wrote Y7Jo while picturing Tsutsumi specifically. RGGJo was more malleable and less "consequential" in terms of the franchise, so, y'know, why not have a little fun with it? I think that's reflected in their designs as well. RGGJo's is larger-than-life while Y7Jo's is relatively subdued.
Overall, I get the sense RGGJo's role is more akin to "son" and "brother," (aniki, if you will), like Masato, whereas Y7Jo's role is more akin to "co-parent" and "father" and I guess "Evil Stepdad" in a Cinderella kind of way. It's not exact across the board, it's not literal across the board, but it's the archetype, right? And I think that does, exactly like you said, have far-reaching consequences for their backgrounds and who they've become as a result.
BTW, you actually are up to speed on Ichi's story, because uh… that's where it stops lol. It was discontinued at roughly the equivalent of the start of Chapter 12 in 7; the rest of the story was written, but not published. It Kills Me.
But I think, despite any concrete backstory, the implication for RGGJo is that (if I assume he joined earlier than Ichi, which would make sense given he's captain), he was at most 18 or 19 when he joined, and he's exactly the same kind of Arakawa fanboy Ichi is. The 15th anniversary book goes on to say he "was purely in love with [Arakawa]'s greatness" and so cannot tolerate the idea of allowing him to live and die in obscurity at the bottom rungs, of Arakawa being in a position not equivalent to his "greatness" in his eyes.
But Ichi thinks that's regardless of what Arakawa himself may want, since RGGJo is apparently not going to stop until he makes him chairman, which the Arakawa Ichi knows wouldn't really care about. I think there's an interesting mix of selflessness and selfishness in his desires that reminds me of Mine.
And that's explicitly as opposed to Y7Jo, whose loyalty remains the same, but whose feelings and motivations are complicated by the existence of Masato; the usage of "purely" before is notable here, as another suitable translation would be "uncomplicatedly," which to me would suggest that degree of admiration is a component of his loyalty in 7 as well.
So I think you're absolutely right the circumstances with Masato are a major aspect of what's going on with Y7Jo. It's inextricable because he's got this immense gratitude towards Arakawa for raising his son and also a need, a primary driving force, to be a part of his son's life at (almost) all costs. The natural result of that is going to be reluctance to do anything that tips the balance.
I think that's one of the things that make him so compelling, he's forced to make a lot of tough, meaningful decisions and there's often (but not always) no right answer. And that's really clear to see with Aoki, as you say.
(Kind of a side note, but somewhat contrary to the above, Masato may actually have existed in RGGO's timeline. There was a comment from Yokoyama or Takeuchi suggesting he's not in RGGO not because he simply "doesn't exist, but specifically because Arakawa may not have opened the right locker or may not have made it to the lockers in time. I guess the other implication would be that Masato would've been Arakawa's biological son in RGGO instead, since RGGJo would've been too young and there was no need for a switcheroo? It was just an off-hand comment, but it's interesting to think about.)
Also, loved your tags haha. It's SO funny you start off like you're going to say something crazy and then it turns out to actually be something I wanted to write about in the previous ask, but that I cut out because I couldn't make it flow. I guess it might just be the case that I'm crazy on the same wavelength?
But yes! I think a lot of the time, impressions of that aspect Jo's backstory sort of begin and end at Evil Stepdad Perpetuates Cycle Of Abuse, perhaps understandably, but there's genuinely so much that's established in both his and Arakawa's backstories that have clearly stayed with them that I'm positive your take on it is at the very least least true to the character, whether or not it's intentional.
Because like, Arakawa and Jo both came from abusive households. And they're both affected by Aoki's "parental abuse" (although Aoki doesn't know it himself, I guess he doesn't need to). But the way Arakawa has always dealt with abuse is defiance; I think the implication of one of the first scenes is that that's how he got his scar. Jo, on the other hand, has always dealt with abuse with avoidance. Running away. Brushing it under the rug, like he says he and Ikumi had done all their lives; I think that statement's fairly clearly linked to abuse and neglect.
And I think that shows both in Arakawa and Jo's respective responses to traditional authority figures and in how they choose to handle things with Aoki. Arakawa defies Aoki's plans in his own way at every turn, and he ends up getting killed for it. Jo, on the other hand, ignores it until there's nothing left to do but sever himself completely, in the same way there was nothing left to do back then but run. IT'S SO. Ugh.
Each Jo's respective role in the overall plot of their stories definitely plays a part in why they turn out different from each other the way they do; it's interesting to see how RGG decided to handle Jo's character to sort of 'adjust him' to fit better as more of a background figure than The Big Bad, and to especially see how his relationships end up is spectacular. Choosing to divide that devotion between his son and his boss in Y7 is something I'm just positively obsessed with: it's clear he joined the yakuza predominantly for Masato's sake, but the concept of Jo gradually coming to genuinely respect Arakawa as an individual opposed to someone that he just happens to have to follow after because his son's involved heightens him as a character for me (I might have to write a side piece on the psyche of Jo- there's just a bunch of aspects to him that I want to explore better and really intrigue me, but I refuse to try and squeeze any of that into this long-as-is answer lmao).
I definitely recognize Ryuji and Mine the easiest in RGGJo (Mine's influence still persists a bit in Y7 to me, if not solely for his devotion and his own version of The Knife Scene existing as The Eye Scene; though Jo's anger wasn't purely due to Arakawa's death in that scene like Mine's was due to Daigo's 'death', it was clear Arakawa's passing was a sore subject). Jo's dedication to Arakawa in RGGO really is totally reminiscent of Mine's devotion to Daigo: both willing to take drastic measures to secure the ones they idolize the spot they feel they deserve and to exterminate any opposition to that dream (if I'm remembering Mine's RGGO story right wherein he partakes in the Okinawa deal as a HUGE ploy just to secure Daigo remains chairman should he wake up, but I don't have to clarify how that didn't go as planned).
As for Nishiki, it's clear Jo borrows his 'position' in the story, just as Ichi obviously takes Kiryu's. To yoink a phrasing from another ask I got, they're 'dark parallels': though they both clearly want the best for Arakawa, they're going about it in different ways (in that sense, Y7Arakawa's line about him seeing the Arakawa Family as his 'sons' makes this situation a little funny: just two kids fighting each other for what's best for their dad lmao). It's a shame the story didn't go on any more after the Millenium fight, but I'm a little happy knowing in that I'm not missing anything (what I will scratch my head over is what RGGOMasato would've been like. I guess it's not exactly certain whether or not he survived The Locker Incident or he was just so considerably normal he wasn't worth bringing up, but regardless I'll have a ponder about it..). It'd be rad if RGG ever decided to release at least the drafts of the rest of the story one day, but I won't hold my breath.
I've peaked over at Takahashi's past roles (I didn't realize he's voiced so many characters I know omg), and I think that's a fair conclusion to come to: he repertoire combines characters with sort of 'harsh' tones to their voices/dialogue, but as you said he does benefit from having voiced some 'lighter' characters! As for Tsutsumi, I think I've made it a little clear on my blog that I've taken time to look at his past projects, and though I haven't seen all of his roles, Jo's an interesting inclusion to his list (but by no means an inappropriate fit. If I were to compare him to one of Tsutsumi's past roles, Nobunaga Oda from Honnouji Hotel is similar in being an intimidating man with a violent reputation but still having a 'soft'/deeper side). It gets more fun when I think of it: Tsutsumi, from what I can gather, is a tad renowned for playing loving fathers (whether they're perfect fathers depends on the character, but they all absolutely adore their kid/family- this might be the only time I've seen him play a father and he isn't doting on his kid, lmao). Yokoyama and Nagoshi are definitely masters at deciding who should play who and how to utilize their talents efficiently, and having prior knowledge to Tsutsumi's roles, I feel as though audience members would have been able to get a hint at Jo's whole character early on (just as RGG had capitalized on Takahashi's reputation) which I personally find to be a fun tidbit, if not just grateful that they chose such an excellent actor to play such an intricate character. Ergo, his ability to give 'deep' performances and have that sort of presence and give his character that type of atmosphere definitely helps enhance the human aspect of Jo's character.
It's a great blend into Jo's otherwise cold demeanor, and going off the idea that RGGJo was a combination of Masato and Jo, the decision to have Jo be a committed father to Masato (as much as he's allowed to be, anyhow) while Masato became the power-hungry villain (even if RGGJo's motivations were ironically centered around Arakawa succeeding moreover himself), it's somewhat of a roundabout way to have them still be connected: though they're not the same character anymore, there's that bond that keeps them stitched together that I find neat.
AND THANK YOU ABOUT MY TAGS I can't sugarcoat it, I'm not a very confident person, so I'm glad you've gleamed there's some validity to what I'm saying. And I'm glad you've expanded on not just Jo, but Arakawa's upbringing as well: though they both come from abusive homes, they do handle it differently, and I feel so blind for not even having wholly noticed it in how they react to Aoki- it's so brilliant I almost want to scream. It's a tragic irony that despite Jo resolving to not 'half-ass' things anymore and to face things head-on, to 'take responsibility', he incidentally falls back into trying to avoid the problem for as long as he can. It's poetic really, and I'm positively going to go insane over the fact.
#long post#fave#i AM faving all of these because any disucssion about jo/the arakawas is my favorite ☠️#snap chats#i'm still screaming about the parental bits at the end though like god how could i have been so blind.. thank you for pointing that out#it always fascinates me how abused kids turn out based on circumstances#I'm Rambling Again but i think arakawa got some benefit of his dad being there for him. until he died of course#even if kids come from broken homes so long as they have at least one positive adult figure in their life theyre likely to turn out alright#i guess 'alright' is subjective- i wouldnt exactly say becoming a yakuza leader is the most conventional lifestyle but hey what can you do#in any case jo's absolute abandonment certainly paved the way for- despite his wishes to reject it- him to fall back into being avoidant#ouugh that hits close to home im gonna throw up but its so also so good i love these details so much#also can we all ignore like. The Phat Chunk i dedicated to mr tsutsumi LMAO i really have become a fan of his work through all of this#AND I REPEAT HE IS SUCH A GOOD FIT FOR SAWASHIRO another role i can think of is mr tatsuya kanda from meishi game#he's more blatantly an antagonistic and selfish figure but we find out he's such an asshole because he's trying to make his daughter proud#so yeah definitely not mr tsutsumi's first time playing a dickish dad who loves his kid#i feel like im everywhere with this response ngl- im always so crummy with organizing my thoughts#but of course again thank you for writing in ! always fun reading your asks ^^#AND DEFINITELY THANK YOU FOR TAKING TIME TO DEDICATE TO THE WIKI i cant type enough o7's to convey that respect
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