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heroictoonz · 3 months

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not going to comment on the ramcoa stuff? yeah thought not.

Crazy how I have a life and a job and didn't give a shit to respond to u when I'm busy n only scrolly tumblr idly but since u clearly got a thing for me ill bite cause you also need my opinions reexplained to you like a child

Also I googled ramcoa cause I didn’t know what that word means (i also didnt know what endo meant till like earlier this fuckin year cause everyone was being very loud and annoying about it) and all I got was "RAMCOA is an acronym for Ritual Abuse, Mind Control, and Organized Abuse." which like. what the FUCK are you even talking about mind control? fucking ORGANIZED ABUSE this is like classic cult aligned shit how does this even relevant to endos and that stuff. please tell me this is a word or acronym for something else that google isnt telling me cause just genuinely huh

listen i took a look at the link u sent i dont wanna post that cause i dont want ppl harassing others on the internet like you seem to want but just for the love of fuck listen to me for two seconds like honest to god read my words and let them sink in

the post you sent me i have literally no context for to me it looks like a shit post. ive made jokes like that before and i need to reiterate that they are JOKES and i am NOT ENDO and i say shit for goofs cause to me and my friends its funny. whether it is or is not a joke is, honestly, not my business. I dont know that person personally i dont know their life i dont know their story so i dont set it as my mission to find people i dont agree with and flip my shit at them. again. life. job. no interest. im 24 and literally not my job to babysit other ppl on the internet i block who i dont like follow who i do and live on w my life (which. highly recommended for all. you too Chuck. makes life so much more livable)

in regards to ur stuff about misinformation the way I see it is people will spread bullshit about just about every topic under the sun. it is, once again, not my job to go around "um actually" everything on the internet. if someone asks me a question i answer if someone im directly talking to has wrong information i try to correct them

When it comes to a lot of people, however, not many of them want to change their minds on things. sometimes some people arent even at a point of their life to be open minded and listen. which, im not gonna stress myself out to correct someone else. Even i had a point in my life where i was so hardheaded and full of hate (it was a weird cringe culture group i was in and didnt think for myself and honestly i caused a lot of damage in that time of my life and even now I regret it. But man thats life. And like if i try to correct and if they dont listen i go okay and dip after a point (which, for you. is prob gonna be here. cause im gonna say all my thoughts here and be done with this conversation honestly also work is suuuuuper busy rn like fr wish me luck w this summer season sobs) theres a part of me that hopes you will either see reason with this reply and chill out or you will continue to disagree with me but at least for both of our sanity stop messaging me either way i wont be replying again to you just so you are aware

now im just gonna be so fucking blunt here. do i believe endo is a thing? (ie: people can be systems without trauma) honestly? i dont know! here is how i see it; im not a medical professional. I have an interest in psychology i have a copy of the dsm5 cause im a nerd (its with my law books. again. im a nerd.) but im no scientist. at the same time; i dont really trust medical professionals all that much? i would like to. really i would. but it always feels like so many of them dont take the time to actually try with diagnosis. too many people of color or fat people and shit like that always say that they are constantly misdiagnosed or ignored due to predigests. again, because i was born a girl i was never diagnosed properly when i was a kid. this happened twice actually! and even then ive had to deal with doctors and therapists who dont believe me even WITH a formal diagnosis to my name. ive had a therapist tell me that i DIDNT have bpd because i was, in her words, "too nice" and she refused to start me on cbd insisting the doctor was wrong. its scary as fuck honestly. plus, like i said in the last post, mental health is so under researched. which is also so scary to me. theres so much that doctors dont know. that WE dont know. theres so much that doctors get wrong. sometimes cause theyre only human and sometimes cause they willfully ignore patients.

so, the way i see it, is that maybe you can have a system without trauma or maybe you cant. i dont know personally and where i stand i dont know how much credit i would put to research done on a mental disability that is still to this day so disgustingly stigmatized and viewed as dangerous or scary. ive seen split. i know david haller (i like david haller but also every time i think about the live action show or how they really treat him as a character i sob in my little heart every fuckin day man fr) so to me i chalk it up to 'fuck if i know' and move on.

The other thing is that since i personally am not an endo in my head i also have no evidence to form a hard opinion on this at all. Again, my system DID come from trauma. In fact, for most of the system mates i can pinpoint exactly which traumas and/or parts of my life they came from (some i dont but i am also pretty sure im missing a very large chunk of my middle school memories so who the fuck knows) but honestly. if you have a hard opinion on the yes or no here thats fine youre intitled to your own opinion ig

but you shouldnt harass people on the internet or accuse them of being fake. this is what my problem is with anti-endos.

This has also been my like, whole side of this conversation. Which is why im really begging you to listen and read my words cause i very much think you are reading me wrong here. I literally couldnt give less of a shit about your personal opinion on this kinda stuff. Like i dont know you were not friends you’re a random anon on the internet. You disagreeing with me does not phase me one bit. I clearly have stuff to say but thats just cause i talk a lot and like to share my thoughts more than anything else. Honestly. You can send me a like one sentence question and ill accidentally reply with an essay. Have you SEEN the rants ive been on lmaooo

What does frustrate me, is that you feel the need to harass people and accuse people of faking stuff for attention with NO fucking thought. When you sent your first anon i can only assume its cause i reblogged my friend Wendy’s post about endos and syscourse (i hate syscourse so much but MAN that is a good fucking play on words it almost makes me mad lol) you asked if i had did/osdd and i said yes and you IMMEDIATELY went into my asks and accused me of being 1) an endo and 2) faking for attention despite that neither of those can be inferred by my answer especially when i 1) never once said I WAS endo personally (because. Again. Not) and 2) i specifically explained in my first response (thinking u were just a good natured random) that while, yes, i am a system, i dont talk about it very openly or much at all only vaguely mentioning it here n there on my personal blog when i feel the need or want on a specific topic (like when i made a joke post about being a system and watching RvB and the Meta who is this character that has a buncha AI crammed in his head). If anything, it makes you more fuckin wrong cause me NOT mentioning being a system almost ever shows more to the light that im NOT focusing on wanting attention or shit like that if anything i think i make more jokes about being autistic and trans. Are you gonna accuse me of being fake trans and fake autistic just for attention? Because i talk about it more? No, cause that would make like zero sense. (Unless u want to ig tho honestly i think being called a fake trans would be so funny as anon hate like genuinely that would make me snort i think. Guy who uses he/him and openly talks about having periods and shit like that accused as fake trans rguireghrhuigr)

To me, at least, you have already proven that your ideology is flawed. Your method of pointing out ‘fakes’ and ‘attention seekers’ is just really nonsensical. Either that or you do honestly have the reading comprehension of a five year old. The oooonly reason i could maaaaaybe see you thinking im ‘attention seeking’ is when I vaguely mentioned in the tags of that first post that I had a system specific blog however i also 1) do not advertise it nor did i put the name of it on that post OR ask you to follow it and 2) admitted that its barely ever used. Again, still making no sense to your accusation

And like, honestly, at the end of the day, accusing people you dont know on the internet just by random posts they post or terminology they identify with for being fake is just so, in your own words, gross. You dont know these people’s lives. You dont know what they’ve been through. Again, completely ignoring whether you can or cannot have system without trauma my original long response talked about how the person identifying as endo might actually have trauma and not know/recognize it as such and by harassing them you are only making everything worse for them. You LITERALLY do not know these people. You dont know me and you made that very clear when you were so crushingly wrong about me by literally just the second anon you sent.

As someone who deals with the anxiety and fear that i am secretly a fake and dont know it, not just about being a system but like. A SHIT ton of stuff in my life, it does not help when random fucking people come accusing me of that exact fear. Going back to that therapist who tried to tell me she didnt think i had bpd it took me SO FUCKING LONG to accept i did in fact have bpd after that. And it was fucking painful to deal with mentally. When every sign in the motherfucking book pointed to YES i have this thing but all it took was ONE woman with a degree to tell me i was ‘too nice’ and suddenly my world fell apart. I no longer felt like i had a name to the feelings and thoughts i was suffering from. Dude that shit SUCKS it is SO painful and stressful. Like literally, please, for the love of all that is holy, do not inflict that on others. You might think youre bringing justice in some weird way but theres a higher chance that you are hurting people just as much as you seem to think endos cause hurt.

Now, because i know you SO DESPERATELY wanna know my opinion on the post you sent in the unanswered ask, honestly? I dont know how much i agree with that persons post. Like. Playing in the field of maybe that was an honest to god opinion and not just like a joke they were making, really not sure how i feel about it. In my opinion, i wouldn’t be running around trying to get my brain to spawn in more little fuckers to deal with. But i also have a lot of mixed feelings about being a system and my headmates. For one i dont get along with all of them, and not all of them get along with each other. Shits really annoying and in some extreme cases stressful as fuck. Every time something new pops into existence, I’ll be real, im kinda scared. I dont know how things will once again change or shift. And my head is just a single head. Its one brain that now has to deal with so much going on i get a lot of headaches and dissociate sometimes even in the middle of doing things or talking to people cause shit will just randomly become chaos (tho im sure other mental things attribute to all that too here n there idk) but I wouldn’t say i hate being a system. I also dont think id ever wanna do that like fuse therapy shit and get rid of the others. Both out of a fear of losing myself and a fear of losing some of them. That shit sounds kinda scary to me. And where, yeah theres some that i dont get along with, there are others that i do get along with! And love a lot! I jokingly call some of them my siblings cause a lot of them have been around since i was a little kid (tho ill admit for a while I thought i just had a REALLY strong imagination and that for some reason my imaginary friends kept talking to me even as an adult till i finally realized hm. Maybe this is not the case. Lol) so like ya you’ll never see me honest to god saying ‘man i wish i had MORE random bastards in my head’ but like, thats just me

I’ve met so many systems and a lot of them are different. I’ve met some that WANT to fuse (i dont think thats the word they use for that therapy but i just got home from a stressful 8 hours on The Grind so I can’t think words all too well lol) ive met people that LOVE being a system people who hate it people who are pretty indifferent to it. I’ve met systems who are have a different person fronting every day ive met systems where you almost never see or hear from the others and its just primarily the host that takes charge. So many different people feel differently about the same things. That’s just life. But I am not gonna use ONE post randomly shown to me to 1) make an assumption on someone (especially something as harmful as faking) or 2) as a valid reason to harass them. Especially not when the person showing the post to me has only acted hostile towards me. Like honestly. Genuine tip here, being rude and mean to people is not how you try to change their minds or try to educate them on something. Walking into my house and telling me im the fake hedgehog just cause of one post and one answered ask and then trying to tell me im wrong is like so not the way my guy fr

I’m pretty sure ive said my entire peace on the matter here. So yeah, again if you send me any more anons i wont be answering them. I’m saying this just to try and save you some time and also some peace of mind. Honestly, please block me. Please forget my existence and go live your life. Its honestly worrying how you have now spent like two days in my anons about this shit, like i am not even joking like the joke is over please please please finish reading this, block me, and go watch one of your favorite comfort movies and smile i mean this so seriously

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missingrache · 7 months

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10 fandoms 10 blorbos, very belatedly responding to a tag from lovely @windsweptinred:

1. Bioshock: Mark Meltzer

This man is the subject of my very first post on tumblr, he must be included here, I adore this sad fuck.

2. Homestuck: Diamonds Droog

A toss up between him and Slick. I was and am a Homestuck Intermission girlie and this must be acknowledged.

3. Dragon Age: Justice

I have many many Dragon Age faves and DAO and also Awakening is so so important to me, but Jorstin here is the fellow I have the most distinct and personal opinions about and is, aside from OCs like my Brosca Warden, Avi, the only one I have a strong rp/fic voice for. He’s such a weird and cool dude!

4. DC Comics/Animated Universe: Martian Manhunter/ J’onn J’onzz

My BOY. I love him most in the VERY specific comic pictured above (1988 miniseries that establishes the Martian gods as being flaming horrorterrors, as we see in Sandman w/L’zoril Dream, it’s GOOD SHIT)—but also in general. Criminally under rated and under represented. A sad fuck, a shape shifting horror, a stranger in a strange land, a bereaved parent, Doing His Goddamn Best. AND sometimes a noir detective send up.

Anyway, speaking of comics.

5. Sandman: Dream of the Endless

I am thrilled to be here in the year of our lord 2024 enthusing about and making friends over this scrunkly wet cat that I first encountered and dearly loved in high school. (I am more than halfway through my 30’s now, so it has been A WHILE). I’m counting Sandman and DC as separate affairs, sorry not sorry.

6. Our Flag Means Death: Izzy Hands

Loved him even before S2, fascinated, I want to put him in a jar and shake him but also keep him safe forever. I am a little soured on the show after s2, but I have dressed up as Izzy and would gladly do so again so he belongs here.

7. Supergiant Hades: Achilles

This SPECIFIC version of Achilles, who has died and continued growing through his pain and regrets and who is a surrogate parent to my BOI Zagreus, is. Fascinating. To me. I was so angry at first to find myself liking him as much as I did! It’s masterful how much characterization Supergiant implies with relatively little. He’s coming after Izzy on the list bc I came to them both in similar ways, looking at myself falling in love and going oh my god HIM? Seriously? And being like yup that war criminal there is my son now!!! (And now of course I’m fond of him all across the mythological/classical board, oh my god Hadesgame what have you done.)

8. Star Wars: Alexsandr Kallus

The only space nazi redemption arc I will accept. (Although I am watching Andor with friends right now and three double agent gingers across the begins to suggest a pattern which is very entertaining to me.)

Anyway A+ arc, love this bastard man, love his giant cat husband, single-handedly keeping me invested in Star Wars, hope his gay happy ending never gets messed with.

9. Les Miserables: Inspector Javert

Another character that I went oh my god REALLY??? That Guy??? About. But he’s so /funny/ in the Brick and Stars is lovely enough that I learned how to play barre chords on my guitar Just For That and look. Look. He is a bastard but he is MY bastard and I will read every redeemed!Javert fic that crosses my path forever the end. (Also a side note: Kallus was originally sold to me by @lokivangelist as “space Javert”)

10. The Witcher: Dandelion/Jaskier (all versions, but repping Hexer below because that’s my favorite!!!)

Throwing a curveball for the last slot! I’ve got a sad dad/monochrome aesthetic/loyal right hand/shapeshifting nonhuman/rigid worldview kinda pattern happening above, and my boi here slip slides away from almost all of those. Except for the loyalty. This man is an absolute ride or die for Geralt and I love that about him. He is also an obnoxious fuckboi but I love that too, especially in a story as heavy as the Witcher frequently can be. (My runner up for this fandom was gonna be book!Lambert, who is similarly narratively savvy and good at puncturing the heaviness of a scene without being straight up comic relief.)

There they are! Ten blorbos, I climbed that whole mountain and now I’m heading to bed. (Will tag folks tomorrow perhaps? But also feel free to invite yourself in and do this and say I tagged you if you like, because I am curious what my mutuals and etc . might choose!)

#ask memes #ten fandoms ten blorbos #about the tumblrista

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yersina · 1 year

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Tbh I wanna ask the whole thing but to stick to the realm of reasonability may I ask 7, 10, 14, 23, and 29? And anything else you might want to answer if there's any. 🦭 [decompresses from the lack of pressure]

[weird questions for writers]

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Ohhh what an interesting question! I think what I love most abt writing—why I still write even if it only results in unfinished wips—is… hm how to put this… an execution of an idea? Putting my own spin on a concept? Bringing smth to life from my mind and onto a page? Like I just love thinking about things, and writing gives me a way to share that w other ppl or put it into words, and that’s what’s best about it!

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

LOL uh the first definition that comes to mind for a piece of writing ‘haunting’ me is in the ‘god why did I write this’ sense, in which case I’d probably say my fanfic from my hetalia days……. A full ten years ago at this point…… But I’m also an advocate for not being ashamed of your writing no matter how old or cringy it is bc we all had to start somewhere right? And it still brought me joy at one point even if it doesn’t anymore, so I wouldn’t exactly say that it really does haunt me per se haha

The other sense of ‘haunting’ is probably ‘I think abt it a lot’ in which case—my wips haunt me. OTL

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I do! Not as much (read: at all) anymore bc my friends and I have all diverged in terms of preferences and also physical location, but in high school, sometimes I’d even give my kindle acct in order to share ebooks haha.

But I’ve also always been a library person, and my physical collection is exceedingly small. I also don’t tend to reread anything? So I only buy books if there’s a reason I’d want to display it and/or come back to it. And it’s hard to lend books if you don’t own them haha. I would lend them if I had any though!

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

So. Most often I’m on my bed (full size, cheap, IKEA) and on top of my blankets (cheap, Amazon). I do most of my work in bed and lying down lol and also on my phone bc if I waited until I had my computer I would get nothing done. It’s probably either late at night or very early in the morning (bc I am unfortunately both a night owl and an early bird—no sleep for me!), so the light is rather dim. I have several larger stuffed animals w me on my bed (one is ice bear from CN, one’s a weighted dragon plushie, and one’s a really loooong shiba-dog-thing that’s probably close to my height) that I can prop my head up on or squash beneath me, depending on my mood. I also have an extra pillow to put against the wall for if I do decide to do anything while sitting up (currently cuddling it as I write this). A lot of what I own is a shade of blue or green. There’s a string of white Christmas lights around the wall next to my bed bc I can’t stand the brightness of the overhead light. Currently there’s a half-finished quilt rolled up beside me.

Really tho I write anywhere inspiration strikes me. Once I wrote a decent chunk while sitting in my car in the parking lot of a homegoods lol

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Hm… my inspiration probably comes most often from other people! I had a ton of fun with all the sctir prompts I got a while back :) A lot of my favorite ideas that I’ve executed comes from putting a spin on an existing trope or concept, or from seeing smth around tumblr or twitter and wanting to write my own version.

My inspiration well runs dry very often, actually. I’m a huge binge-writer—most of what you see from me is stuff that I wrote within a couple days, which is why most of my fics tend to be short. I’m definitely not one of those ‘write a little bit every day!!’ kind of people—that would never work for me, and kinda drains my soul. Trust me I’ve tried lol (case in point: I managed to do an entire nanowrimo a couple years ago (the whole 50k!) and never touched or looked at that fic ever again. Was a fantastic exercise, but just not the way I work). Usually if I have an active wip, I do try to go back to it every couple days, just to make sure I don’t forget about it entirely haha. If I’m not actively working on an idea, I try not to let it bother me too much; the waiting is as much a part of my writing process as the actual writing. I’m all for making it easier for yourself—fanfic writing is a hobby, not a job, and I’m here for my own enjoyment more than anything else. I want to lean into it most when I’m happiest, yknow? :)

Bonus question for fun: 11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Yes absolutely!!! This isn’t to say that you should ruthlessly get rid of what you love most in your writing, but definitely don’t be too attached to every single word you write. The writing advice that I’ve found most helpful so far in my writing journey is: if you’re stuck in your writing, the problem isn’t with the current scene or paragraph, it’s what happened before. I’ve also had an English teacher suggest to us once that we should try rewriting something from memory to pare down to what’s most important (bc anything you don’t remember isn’t essential). I start over all the time if smth’s not working for me and I delete and go back if I get stuck. If I’m getting rid of smth that’s longer, I do try to keep it around or move it to a separate doc in case I need to use it later, or to try and incorporate into a different scene so that I’m not dropping it entirely, but I’ve found myself doing that less and less as I go. It’s annoying, maybe, but I don’t grieve haha

Kill your darlings, for sure 🔪

(ALSO the best part abt fanfiction is that even if a scene that you really love doesn’t work in the main sequence, you’re allowed to write spin offs and side stories and extra scenes as much as you want to lol. Like killing your darlings doesn’t have to mean you resign it to never seeing the light of day, maybe you just fake their death and move them to a different neighborhood skdnejcbjdd)

#sina answers #bijoucher #ask meme #sorry this got long!#was definitely fun to think abt :)#a lot of my writing process and habits boil down to ‘make this easy for yourself’ haha

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iamfuckingsorry · 4 months

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I've been thinking about my old art club teacher recently.

This is something I never really thought about back then, but I think she influenced my life more than I realized.

For context, I went to this art club thingie from grade 2 to grade 11, and would have continued if I hadn't moved abroad at that point. It was like 3-4 hours a week at the local art/music school - in my country you don't have clubs/extracurriculars at school but instead there's another "school" kind of thing where you can go do extracurriculars after school, or independent sports clubs for kids run by sports organisations. The non-sports ones are subsidised and cheap af and it's where you go to learn to play an instrument, sing, do art, improv/theatre, dance etc - basically learn skills that can in some way be tied to "culture" or w/e. So I went to this club/class/whatever thingy because I enjoyed drawing when I was 6-7 and then kept going cause why not.

And my teacher was just like... the most chill person ever. She was really good with kids, treated everyone like a tiny human with a personality instead of like someone who had to listen to her (which is what my actual schoolteachers did). Would have casual conversations about her life and the TV shows she was watching and shit with us even when we were like 8. There was this one kid that was a couple of years older than me who was writing theatre pieces and short stories and she'd discuss them with him and give concrit and brainstorm with him and give suggestions on what to do and who to talk to if he wanted to get into writing/theatre more seriously (she had a second job doing backstage stuff at the local theatre). I didn't really learn any art skills except for what you learn by being forced to draw for a couple of hours every week, but god this club was the only place where I could really be myself. Three to four hours a week, I could be as weird as I wanted to be and no one cared. I'm not sure I'd say I looked forward to it per ce - I didn't really look forward to anything at that point in my life and I'm sure I skipped some weeks just to lie in my bed instead - but it was just... nice, y'know?

And in hindsight it was obvious she was a bit lost in life, just trying to do what she liked doing. She was fat and single and not planning on having kids and lowkey broke. She wanted to go to an art high school as a kid and wasn't allowed to, so after she graduated she applied again and did the 4 extra years required to get this art high school diploma. She worked like 15-20 hours at the art school and then another maybe 15-20 and then she sold art and crafts stuff at markets and stuff sometimes to make ends meet. She dyed her hair bright red and orange sometimes back when unnatural colours were still really unusual and sometimes wore clothes bordering on what you'd see at a ren faire. I think she must have been in her late 20s when I started and close to 40 when I left, but she'll forever be 37 in my mind for some reason.

And looking back knowing what I know now, I am so sure she was a fandom person. She was into House MD and X-files and LOTR and Stargate and NCIS, and would have hour-long convos about the shows with some of the kids. She was very into Sean Bean to the point her sister got her a life-size Boromir cutout and also into Jeremy Renner, though I can't remember any specific shows with him in that she liked (it wasn't the Avengers stuff - maybe MI?). I remember her going to the capital for a movie premiere once or twice, and travelling abroad to see her favourite actors from time to time. I'm pretty sure she talked about something that I can now identify as writing fanfiction at some point.

And I was very into fandom myself by the end too, I was going to cons and shit, roleplaying with my online friends, hanging out here on tumblr and shit. I had a friend in the club who was into Supernatural just like I was, and sometimes we'd spend half of the club talking about SPN, reading the new episode summary together every week waiting for the episode to come out, discussing, me talking about fanfic sometimes (something that my friend was /not/ into). I wonder what she thought about that lol.

Anyway.

My point it just... I never knew another adult who was into the same stuff as me as a kid growing up. Like sure, my mom was a massive sci-fi and fantasy fan, but not in a fandom way, and she didn't really enjoy discussing things. And I never knew another adult who genuinely didn't seem to care what other people thought about them, in a good way - she was fat and kinda weird and broke and she fucking rocked it, at one point she got a phone call from a friend who needed to talk about a Stargate episode and she fucking answered and talked to the friend for like 15 minutes. And I never knew another adult who chose to do what they wanted to do instead of doing what was expected of them - getting an education, getting a good job, maybe settling down and having kids. This lady was just like, nah fuck that, I'm gonna go to the goddamn art high school even if I'm gonna be like 24 by the time I graduate, and I'm gonna get this horribly underpaid part-time job at a theatre because I like theatre and the people who work there, and I'm gonna spend half my day talking about this TV show I really like. And she had so many stories about people (especially teachers at the art school) being unfair or shitty and her standing up for herself and not taking their shit.

And I never had a role model growing up, but slowly approaching my 30s and looking back... I think maybe I did. And I wonder what she's up to now (still teaching at that art school and working at the theatre, I could google that much), and I wonder if the fact that she was doing okay meant that I will do okay too.

And I hope we keep fostering places where little lost kids like me can meet cool weird adults who were exactly where you are now 20 years ago and who made it through and are living their best lives now.

#i should be writing a thesis instead of random shit on tumblr lol #but i have Feelings about this okay #sigh #herr's personal tag

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moonrisecoeur · 10 months

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last ask of the day i promise but like

man

how do you muster the courage to just horny post about leon to the world bc god !! i wanna be involved w the fandom and talk abt my bbg leon but i am also terrified of just. the only other ppl who like the same stuff thinking im weird or something. or like comparing myself to others? cause like god yall are SO good at writing?!?! ur thoughts!! huge. i am gen so insecure that i cant match up quality wise w everyone else. like sjdhjskfkskfnne. ty for ur time btw ur way too sweet <3

-🐕

actually do not promise that. keep talking to me. i’m literally begging you and i don’t even like doing that-

if i’m being honest!! it’s not a courage thing i genuinely like to think about it like this…

i’m going to say what i’m thinking and people are either going to like it or not. i can make the concious choice to change what i am writing to fit what other people want or not do that. both are acceptable and understandable. sometimes u want people to read ur stuff and you want to see the follower count go up and you want to make friends and you want interactions and likes and reblogs. and sometimes you genuinely just want to say something or write something u know no one is going to care about. to me, it’s not about being brave or courageous. it’s just understanding that it’s okay to be weird, it’s okay to like weird things, but you’re not weird for liking unconventional things. ur literally just some dude. who is gonna be mad at u for wanting to stick ur dick into something u know?

there is no need to be insecure the people that i’ve met on re tumblr have been SO nice and so welcoming and amazing i promise no one is going to critique ur grammar or quality. people look for concepts they like and words that point out to them, whether or not it’s amazing quality (WHICH I KNOW IT WILL BE) doesn’t matters as much.

#🐕 anon #i’m being so fr with u if u wanna write then WRITE do not be nervous or think it’s not gonna be good enough

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druigswhores · 4 years

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sleepovers with peter (and ned)

summary: in which you have a sleepover with your dork of a best friend and your boyfriend peter.

content warning: peter parker x fem!reader, fluff, set after spider-man homecoming (friends to lovers, mutual pining)

note: this is from my old tumblr account adoringparker i decided to post it again but change some things up :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (let me know if you want to see more content like this <3)

masterlist

the entire thing being ned and yours idea because you've all been having so many exams recently and barely hung out after school due to revising and peter’s schedule.

peter being hesitant because he was worried that something bad could happen in new york and spider-man wouldn't be there to stop it

you reassuring him that the world can survive without spider-man for one day

oh man you were wrong

you three started the sleepover right after the school bells rang !!!

going to delmars to get sandwiches before you all went to peters place (forgetting the fact that there's only two beds in his room)

you and ned making fun of peter because has to state that the sandwich has to have pickles and be squashed real flat

“peter parker picked a pack of pickled peppers”

"why are you guys ATTACKING me.”

also getting slushies, peter trying to be creative and get red and blue to match the spider-man colours, ned getting red and you mixing cola and cherry to ‘make a cherry cola slushie’

“that is so disgusting y/n”

“shut up pickle breath”

going back to peters apartment and greeting may with a hug (she loves you <3)

“how's my favourite sweetheart doing?”

peter immediately cutting in like the dork he is

“i'm doing pretty good may!! how are you doing?”

teasing peter back

“she likes me more than you pete i’m her favourite”

eating ur sandwiches at the table while talking about what happened in school

“man today’s debate was so easy!”

you and ned throwing lettuce at peter in response “that’s because everything is easy for you smartass”

“did you hear that flash showed photoshopped pictures of him and spider-man during bio and said they went to a party together last night?” “that- i don’t even know how to respond to that..”

going back to peters room once ur done

ned wearing the spider-man top you jokingly bought for him to annoy peter for his pyjamas

“hey pete what'd you think abo-“ “WHY DO YOU OWN THAT”

peter walking in with his messy brown curls wearing his star wars shirt and grey pyjama bottoms but still being able to look fine as hell

peter forcing you to wear his sweater

“do you feel cold? you could wear my sweater- i mean if that’s what you want-”

you walking back into peters room after changing in the bathroom to be greeted with peters cutest smile ever

his eyes would be full of love he feels as though he fell in love all over again

he pulls you into him and hides his face in your neck while hugging you mumbling “you're so pretty in my sweater” ¥]!|¥\$]€{$]

having a star wars marathon and quoting the movies

“i have brought peace, freedom, justice and hot guys to my new empire-” “y/n that’s not the quote!!” “yeah but LOOK AT HIM?”

ned and peter reenacting the mustafar in front of you with rulers instead of light-sabers

“only a sith deals with absolutes, i will do what i must.” “you will try.”

ned winning the ‘light-saber’ duel

“god your such dorks” “and you love it”

ned falling asleep after the third movie bc it's already midnight

peter being antsy about not going on patrol tonight because he still feels like something wrong could be happening right this moment

you searching the latest news articles to see whether anything is happening to reassure him

“see everything is okay-” you get cut off by a bunch of sirens

worst. timing. ever.

him shooting out of his seat very quickly due to the spider reflexes, muttering a quick "i got to go" and kissing you on the forehead before putting on his suit and swinging out of the window

you worrying about peter bc he could be hurt

him coming back home at 4 am in the morning with cuts and bruises on his body

"so did spider-man stop the bad guys?" "he did"

tending to his wounds and scolding him for not being careful enough

him being so tired that he begins to say weird things as you continue to clean his cuts and bruises

"hey y/n, y/n y/n baby listen to me y/nnnn, angel, baby, pretty girl, you’re so pretty i love you”

him asking you to make him hot chocolate at 4am in the morning

resulting in the two of you sitting at the table drinking hot chocolate talking about life

"do you think we're going to stay friends after high school?" "of course we’ll stay friends!”

him talking about your future together not aware of the feelings it's giving you because although the smartest person ever, peter could be so clueless sometimes

"do you think we're going to have dogs or cats?" "w-what i-"

falling asleep on the living room couch with ur head on his chest and his arms around you tightly

waking up to the smell of May's choc-chip pancakes !!! (that ned mostly helped with)

wow i wished i had this

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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Friends in High Places

Summary: When Spencer comes home with files to a case that has his team stumped, he's surprised when you- his neighbor for a couple years now- is the person who gives them a new lead to follow. That and that you're ex-SHIELD.

Words: 8K Warnings: This is what I get for starting a rewatch of Criminal Minds and then watching Marvel movies all in one day. Fml. I've never written for Criminal Minds, so please excuse the mediocre-ness of their characterization. I have no idea what I'm doing; I just knew I wanted a crossover between these two fandoms. Also timeline? What are those? All you gotta know is that this is an AU where Bucky's joined the team and Steve DIDN'T ruin the life Peggy Carter would have had. As for the CM side, this is sometime after Hotch has left and Emily took over. Idk.

Having the night off and wanting nothing more than to just be lazy, you're sitting on your couch in your most comfiest clothes and mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr as your TV plays some program on Animal Planet. You're not even paying attention to the program, but the low sound is perfect for background noise.

You're queuing up some art posts that catch your attention, as well as some gif sets of the TV shows you've become a constant viewer of in the past few years, when there's a knock at your door. But not just any knock. It's a specific knock that you and your neighbor came up with after you got to know each other and became fast friends, and it was to let the other know they were home and wanted company. You mostly worked nights and his work schedule was always all over the place, so it's surprising you're both home at the same time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot him a quick text that you'll be over in five.

Spencer Reid is literally the man of every woman's dream, even if they didn't know it. He's cute and adorable and sometimes dangerously hot all rolled into one, and the best thing about it all is that he doesn't even know it. You had met him on one of your first few days in the apartment complex, but unfortunately it was during one of your slight panic attacks when a thunderstorm had caught you off guard while you were sitting in your car and you didn't have an umbrella.

He had seen and heard you freaking out as he was passing by, and knocked on the passenger window. You had collected yourself just long enough to roll the window down a few inches when he asked if you were okay, then proceeded to answer his own question by stating you obviously weren't. When he realized you lived in the same complex and asked if he could climb inside your car and out of the storm, you had stared at him in confusion until he realized that might have been a bit weird since you were strangers. He stammered his way through his explanation of being an FBI agent and after showing you his badge you had let him in.

You didn't have to tell him what was making you panic and he proceeded to keep your mind occupied. He asked about you and where you had moved in from, and spewed random facts about anything to temporarily make you forget about the storm raging outside. But the torrential rain wasn't letting up and the lightning was only getting closer and closer. He made you realize you had to make a run for it and even offered up his umbrella for you. You had thanked him with tears in your eyes and made a run for it on the count of three when you were settled just enough.

Inside the lobby of your apartment building, you had stood there trembling while Spencer nervously gripped onto the strap of his messenger bag as he stood across from you. When you were shaking the water off his umbrella, you hesitantly told him your reasoning for your freak-out. It wasn't necessarily the thunderstorm, but rather the torrential rain that wasn't letting up. A few years back you had a drowning incident and too much water on your face tended to bring back those memories. He said he understood and then with a sympathy tinged smile he offered to walk you to your apartment. It was a pleasant surprise to learn you had only lived two doors down from him.

Weeks turned into months and months into a couple of years, and you and Spencer were nearly inseparable when you both had the same day/night off.

So after quickly fixing your already messy hair so you don't look like a complete slob, and pulling on a loose hoodie, you grab your phone from the sofa and then head on out. Your socked feet keep your footsteps quiet as you head down to Spencer's door where you knock three times on it before opening it up and stepping inside.

But before you can greet him with a cheesy welcome, he's already calling out, "Hope you haven't had dinner. I picked up some burgers on the way home."

On cue, your stomach grumbles. "God bless you, you beautiful, beautiful man!" You hear him laugh from a room that's not where his kitchen is, so you make a beeline for the kitchen instead of accidentally walking in on him changing. There are two paper bags on the table and you quickly grab plates from his cabinet to separate the food on. Spencer enters the kitchen in a shirt and some gray joggers, and you greet him with a beaming smile. "You're home and in one piece! Yay!" He laughs and you quickly lean in to peck his cheek, not saying a word when you catch sight of his pink tinged cheeks. "You have any beer?"

"Yes. Grab two, please."

"Got it." You hear one of his kitchen chairs creak as you open his refrigerator to grab two beers, you then searching a nearby drawer for the bottle opener. Once you find it, you walk back over to the table and open each beer before handing one over to him.

"Thanks."

"Mhm." Taking a seat, you set your beer down before unwrapping your burger and dumping your fries out onto the plate. "So what's up, doc? You're home surprisingly early."

"We've hit a wall on our latest case," he says, keeping it vague. "There was nothing for us to do while Garcia did her thing, so Emily sent us home for a bit."

"Nice." You take a bite of your burger and your eyes widen when Spencer's eyebrows raise in surprise. When you realize how your words sounded, you're quick to backtrack. "Wait! It's not nice that you hit a wall, but nice that you got sent home! I got free food out of it. That's why it's nice. Not because, you know, you haven't found the-"

"Y/N, you're rambling," Spencer says, lips twitching. "I understood what you meant."

You sigh, shoulders dropping, and grab half a fry to toss at him. "Eat your food, Reid. It's getting cold."

It surprisingly doesn't take long for the two of you to eat your dinner, you both being hungrier than you first thought. After you're done, Spencer turns down a second beer but tells you to help yourself. You do. And on the way into his living room, you bump into one of his chairs and knock his bag over. You gasp and set your beer down on the coffee table, falling to your knees to scoop up his files that had spilled out.

Chuckling, Spencer crouches next to you as you profusely apologize.

"It's okay. It was an accident." A few pictures had slid out of their files and normally you'd just shove them back in because his work wasn't any of your business, but the face staring back up at you makes you pause. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little heavy on the eyeliner, and a lip piercing. You know her. "Y/N?" You gulp and flip to another picture- brown hair, brown eyes, mole above the right eyebrow. You know her too. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

With trembling hands, you flip back to the first picture and show it to him. "Is Lilian dead?"

Spencer's eyes widen. "You knew her?"

Knew. Past tense. She is dead. Showing him the second picture, you nod sadly. "Kyndall too."

He seems to stop breathing then and from one moment to the next he's opening files and pulling out picture after picture. As you stare at each of them, you grimace and swallow down the bile that's threatening to climb its way up your throat. "Y/N, do you know any of the others?"

Shakily exhaling, you point at each picture. "Desiree, Celeste, Maria. I don't know this one, but I think her last name was Valdez? And then the male is Tim."

Spencer falls on his butt, staring at you in surprise. "That's right. We know their names and their current line of work, but that's about it. Their files only seem to go back a few years. Everything between the end of their high school career and current line of work seems to be scrubbed clean. Do you- do you know of any connection between these people? Any little thing you know can possibly be a big help to my team."

Your gaze darts up to him and your heart sinks. You've managed to keep your past mostly hidden, but now it seems the time has come to tell him what you did before. "They, uh, they're all ex-agents of SHIELD. The real SHIELD, not HYDRA."

"What?"

"If I remember correctly, they were computer analysts or paper pushers. They had gun training as one would think an agent would have, but they were agents who didn't really have to train in hand-to-hand since they never made it out into the field."

"You're positive? How do you know this?"

You gulp. "Because I'm ex-SHIELD too."

Spencer blinks at you, but then in the next moment he's up on his feet and reaching for his phone. He places a quick phone call, stepping into another room and leaving you alone. Your stomach sinks and you have a feeling that this confession might have just put a wedge in your friendship. After all, though ex-agents were being picked up by other different branches of the government, you weren't sure just how exactly trustworthy all ex-agents were being treated.

Spencer reappears, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. "Do you mind coming with me back to work? My co-workers could really pick your brain about this."

You blink at him. "W-What? You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" He chuckles. "Why would I be mad? I mean I wish I had known what you did so I didn't have to worry about you being alone when I left for a case, but I can see why you would keep that underwraps. HYDRA made a lot of people paranoid."

"Tell me about it," you mumble. Then after a few seconds, you finally climb up to your own two feet. "Um, just let me go put on some shoes. I'll meet you in the hall."

Spencer's smile and nod eases some of your worries, but you still quickly make an escape to go put on some shoes. Your front door bangs open and you hurry to your hall closet. Yanking open that door, you pull on the first pair of Converse you come across. Then taking a moment to think, you grab a pair of knee high boots that you use every once in a while. Reaching inside, you grab your old badge and a USB stick, sticking your badge in your back pocket and the USB in your front pocket. Then grabbing your keys from the hook by the front door, you shut the door after exiting and lock it. Spencer is waiting down the hall for you and you jog towards him. He tightly smiles and then leads you downstairs, towards his car, and you sit quietly in his passenger seat while he drives.

On the way towards Spencer's place of work, he can't help but ask, "So what exactly did you do with SHIELD if you don't mind me asking."

You shrug. "Cat's out of the bag now, so I don't mind." You chuckle though it kind of falls flat. "I was, uh, a computer analyst for a while. But then I was taken on a field trip with a few agents and we ended up trading bullets with several not so nice guys. The field agents liked the way I handled myself and requested I level up, so to speak."

"And you never thought of trying to get hired on with anyone else? If I recall, the FBI and CIA were picking up ex-SHIELD agents after the fall."

You shake your head. "Remember that drowning incident I mentioned? Or the reason why I can't take baths anymore and have to turn my shower on and off between washing?" Spencer hums, remembering what he thought were odd quirks until he realized it was all because of your fear of certain amounts of water. "That drowning incident was HYDRA's fault. I spent months in rehab and just- well, no one wanted a damaged agent."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of glad they didn't. I quite like my neighbor who picks up take-out and bakes sweets for me after a rough case."

You try not to think too much about his words and instead choose to smile at him before looking out your window. The drive is only about twenty minutes and fortunately the radio fills in the semi-tense silence.

When you get to the FBI building, Spencer escorts you inside with a hand at the small of your back. You're given a visitor's badge and you quickly clip it onto the hem of your hoodie. The elevator ride up to the BAU's main floor is a short one and it opens up to a wall of glass where you can see several desks behind it.

Spencer opens the door for you and you can't help but make yourself seem as small as possible. You cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself as you enter the room. There are several people milling about, but no one pays you any attention. Only one female, dark bangs covering her forehead while the rest of her hair falls just passed her shoulders, heads towards you once she spots you and Spencer.

"Y/N," Spencer says, introducing you to the woman as she nears, "this is our Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Emily, this is my good friend Y/N Y/L/N."

Emily is all smiles as she reaches to shake your hand. "Hi! It's nice to finally meet the girl who takes care of our boy wonder after cases."

Spencer nervously chuckles and you find yourself genuinely grinning. "It's nice to finally meet you too. I've heard some funny stories about all you guys."

"I will neither confirm nor deny any of those."

Emily then leads you towards a room where three others are waiting. "Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Friend of Spence and ex-agent of SHIELD. Y/N, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau, and our very own technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Everyone happily greets you and Jennifer even gives you the go ahead to call her JJ. You're offered a seat at their round table and you glance at their board filled with pictures of people you used to work with. Spencer sits next to you and you offer him a feeble smile when he reaches beneath the table to squeeze your knee.

"Alright, guys, I know we're all interested in the girl who lives next to Spence, but we need to get down to business." Spencer groans as his teammates all chuckle. "So Y/N, is there anything else you can give us about the victims? What exactly did they do? Did they all personally know each other or just enough because they were coworkers? Even the smallest bit of info that you think is inconsequential can help us."

"I, uh, I can do you one better," you say. You shift in your seat and reach into your front pocket, pulling out the USB stick. "Since I figure all those NDA's we signed are now null and void thanks to Agent Romanoff's data dump, and because you're Spencer's friend, I feel comfortable handing this over. It kind of made me nervous keeping it in my house anyway."

You slide the USB towards Penelope and she gasps, snatching it up and holding it as if it were the holy grail. "Is this- are these files? Because let me tell you, I tried to download those files as soon as they hit the net but there were just so many and not even our WiFi could download it fast enough before they were scrubbed clean."

You grin and nod, chuckling at Penelope's squeal. "I started collecting everyone's files that I could get my hands on. I started with the baby agents- agents whose files wouldn't toss up red flags when their files were opened. The more clearance I was granted, the more files I was able to download."

"Oh my god. Yes! You are my new favorite person." Penelope rushes around the table, bending down to kiss your cheek with a loud mwah! "Reid, keep this one. I'll be in my lair."

The group all chuckle as you blush, but then Agent Morgan is clearing his throat. "Not that I'm not grateful about what you're giving up, but isn't what you were doing illegal?"

You shrug. "It possibly was, but then Director Fury realized I was memorizing it all and didn't have a problem with it so long as those files didn't leave my office."

"But you have them on you now," Morgan says.

"Yeah. The USB was hidden within my belongings in my office. My office surprisingly survived unscathed after Captain Rogers crashed the helicarriers into the Potomac, and my stuff was packed up and shipped to me while I was in rehab."

"If you don't mind me asking," JJ wonders, "but were you at the Triskelion when HYDRA came out or..?"

"I don't mind the questions at all," you say. "It's actually quite nice to talk about it with people who aren't eyeing me suspiciously." The group flashes you small smiles. "I was actually on a consulting job with a recently formed SHIELD team whose base was a humongous plane that was constantly on the move. Anyway, one of those trusted team members ended up being HYDRA. He led a group of his men onto the plane, killed half of us to get control of it, and then locked me and two scientists into a holding pod before dropping us into the middle of the ocean."

"The drowning incident," Spencer suddenly realizes.

You smile sadly at him, nodding. "We sank to the bottom of the ocean floor. There were three of us and only one little oxygen tank." Spencer grabs your hand beneath the table and you're grateful for the grounding pressure. "We gave it to Jemma. Fitz and I were going to attempt to swim, but we didn't make it. Fitz blacked out first, then me, and then- then nothing. We woke up in a trusted SHIELD facility, and Fitz and I couldn't operate like we used to. With our brains having been deprived of oxygen, it messed us up for a while."

"Wow," Emily says. "I am so sorry."

You shrug at her with a small smile. "It was all part of the job."

"What do you do now?" Morgan asks. "I hate to say it, but with all our victims being ex-SHIELD, and you as well, we have to rule you out as-"

"I get it." You smile in reassurance at him since it kind of pained him to admit that you could be a suspect and have Spencer glare at him for even thinking it. "I'm a bouncer at a bar most nights."

Morgan chuckles. "A bouncer? You!?"

"Hey! I might not look like much, but I did train with Avengers. I could probably give you a run for your money, agent Morgan."

"Okay, okay," he muses.

"I also work as private security for Stark Industries when they throw galas. If you need the exact dates I've been working, I can get that for you."

"Please," JJ says. "Spencer's already vouched for you, but protocol and all that. You understand."

"I do. I'll just- I'll text my bosses to email my clock-ins and clock-outs."

Pulling out your phone, you immediately text your boss at the bar and Pepper Potts. You keep the explanation vague as to why you need it, but assure them it's very much needed for a case the FBI is working on. They completely understand and you even have to make Pepper swear not to get Tony involved.

The emails come in not even ten minutes later and JJ happily takes your phone to run the dates with Penelope, promising to be quick about it. You remain in your seat, watching as Morgan and Emily walk towards the board and start tossing their thoughts back and forth over what they've learned so far.

Your hands are atop the table, thumbs chipping away the already chipped nail polish you have on. The second you raise your hand with the intent of chewing on your thumb nail, Spencer catches your hand. "You okay?" He quietly asks and you stare at him. He then lets your hand go as you pull them back into your lap.

"Yeah. Just getting kind of tired. And a bit anxious. Someone's targeting ex-SHIELD agents and I- well I'm one of those people."

"No one is going to hurt you, Y/N. I promise."

You feebly smile, not taking his words to heart because you know he can't actually keep that promise. He might want to, but you know better than to take these types of promises seriously in situations such as this.

JJ reappears, a bright smile in place as she hands you your phone. "I'm pretty sure Penelope programmed her number in there."

"That's fine." You chuckle. You lay your phone on the table, giving your attention back to Emily and Morgan who's now being joined by JJ.

"Guys, Garcia is having a ball right now. There's so much information she wasn't privy to before, but I'm not sure how any of it is going to help more than Y/N already has." Emily and Morgan look at JJ, waiting for her to explain. "We already know victims weren't the best at hand-to-hand, which the unsub clearly took advantage of. But we need to know what they were presently doing and if they were checking in with anyone because there are a lot of dead ex-agents. That's not a coincidence. Either someone who's ex-SHIELD or HYDRA is picking off ex-agents one by one, or someone who has a grudge against SHIELD found a list of ex-agents and is working their way down the list."

"Where do we even start?" Morgan asks, incredulous. "SHIELD technically doesn't exist anymore and those who are operating in the shadows are nearly impossible to track down thanks to the Avengers. None of them are exactly easy to get a hold of after General Ross made it his personal mission to bring in James Buchanan Barnes for crimes HYDRA made him commit. They like working on their own."

"We'd have to jump through a bunch of hoops just to get a face to face," Emily says, sighing. "If we're lucky they'll want in on the case since it's related to SHIELD."

"Um, actually.." You nervously raise your hand, calling all attention on you. "You can bypass all those hoops."

Emily stares at you, sitting on the edge of the table as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You still have connections, don't you?" At your sheepish grin, she huffs in amusement. Every other team member straightens with hope in their expressions.

"Agent Prentiss, I am the connection." As you pick up your phone once more, JJ and Morgan step closer to the table. You scroll through your contacts, finding the one you need and tapping on it. Then putting it on speaker, you try to soothe your nerves as the ringing through the speaker seems to make the atmosphere of the room become tense.

The ringing stops as the connection is made and then, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my second favorite human on God's green Earth." You roll your eyes at the charm oozing from him. "What kind of trouble are you in now, doll?"

Emily and JJ's eyes widen, and you shake your head in amusement. "Put your boyfriend on the line, Barnes. I'm calling in a favor."

"Are you calling to finally take us up on that offer of joining us for a night?"

Everyone in the room seems to freeze, although Morgan is highly enjoying where this seems to be going. You close your eyes, scrunching up your nose. You can't believe they just heard that. "Steve really needs to put a muzzle on you."

"Well if you're into that-"

"Bucky!" You bark. "You're on speaker." Morgan finally loses the battle with his laughter and you wish you can sink into your chair. Instead you have to settle for just insanely blushing and covering your face with one hand. "I'm currently with the BAU of the FBI. They have a case that they could use some help on."

"Oh." There's a beat of silence. "Christ, Y/N. You should have stopped me sooner. Stevie's gonna lecture me again. Hold on. I'll go get him."

The line goes silent and you nervously meet Spencer's gaze. He's the only one who doesn't seem as amused which is why you don't find Bucky's greeting as funny as you normally would. Something about his expression actually makes you wish Bucky hadn't said anything.

"Y/N?"

You sit a little straighter in your seat. "Hey, Cap."

"What's going on? Buck mentioned the FBI."

"Uh yeah. I'm with Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Doctor Reid," you tell him. "They've been dealing with a case that had gone cold and well I kind of made a connection they hadn't seen before because they couldn't, and uh I'm sure they could use your help."

"What was the connection?"

You look at Emily and she nods, letting you tell him. "Steve, all the victims are ex-SHIELD. Specifically agents who wouldn't have had too much training; who couldn't hold their own without a gun in hand."

There's a sharp inhale. "What do they need?"

Emily's eyes close in relief and she holds her hand out for your phone. You happily oblige her and hand it over. "Captain Rogers, this is Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm the one in charge of my team here."

"Hello, Agent Prentiss. How can my team and I be of help?"

"Well we mainly need to pick your brains and ask some questions. We're aware that SHIELD is still operating to an extent, even if it is in the shadows, so we'd like to know if the victims were still affiliated with you. If we're dealing with someone who is or was from SHIELD or HYDRA, we'd like to have you involved since you have more experience with how they operate."

"That's fine. I'll gather my team and set up a room. Are you okay to set up base here in the Compound?"

"Yes!" JJ says, starting everyone. She clears her throat and calms herself. "Yes."

Steve chuckles. "Very well. Gather everything you need. I'll be sending a quinjet for you all since it'll be faster. Y/N knows the pick-up location."

"Thank you so much, Captain Rogers."

Emily hands you the phone and seeing that the call is still connected, you say, "Hey, Steve? Thanks for this."

"It's not a problem, sweetheart. Are you okay though? You're an ex-shield agent yourself."

"I know, but nothing has been out of the ordinary. I'm okay."

"Good. You coming too?"

"I was actually planning on going home after driving the agents to the location. I'm not an active agent anymore, bub."

"I know you're not, but with that agent neighbor of yours coming here I rather have you here as well so we can keep an eye on you." You sigh at his protectiveness. "Bring a change of clothes for a week. I'll have Nat get a hold of your boss and let him know some of what's going on so you'll have a job to go back to once all of this is over."

"You're a pain in the ass, Rogers."

Steve laughs. "See you soon, Y/L/N."

The call ends and you set your phone down. Glancing up, you smile sheepishly at the team staring at you. "So, uh, I guess I'm tagging along. Sorry about that."

Emily opens her mouth, her words getting stuck as she shakes her head in amusement. "Don't be. You got us working with the Avengers within minutes as opposed to taking hours, possibly even a day if I had to put in a request."

Morgan whistles appreciatively. "This is insane. I'm gonna give Garcia a heads up about our field trip. Expect another tag a long. I don't think she'll pass up this opportunity."

You chuckle as JJ says, "Rossi is going to be so pissed he took a vacation and missed out on working with the Avengers." Then looking at you, she adds, "Do you think Spider-Man will be there? My son absolutely loves him and I would be the coolest mom ever if I got a picture or video with him."

"I'm sure Pe- uh, I'm sure Spider-Man will make an appearance," you say. "He's always hanging around after his classes are done for the day."

JJ's eyes widen. "You totally know who he is."

"I do. And let me tell you, he absolutely adores kids. Ask and he'll happily oblige."

"Guys. Guys!" Emily says. "Case first, fangirl later."

Spencer snorts and you elbow him on reflex. He grumbles, Emily and JJ grin, and you innocently smile at Emily. "Sorry, Agent Prentiss. I'll just- I'll go sit on that couch over there so I'm not in the way."

Emily starts telling her team what needs to be done, repeating herself again when Morgan returns with a clearly excited Garcia. Morgan informs everyone he'll go gather the boxes of files while Spencer immediately sets out to disassemble the board of pictures and post-its. Garcia excitedly rushes back to her own office to pack up a few things, while Emily and JJ figure out what all they'll need to be taking with them.

To keep yourself occupied, you waste a few minutes by playing a game on your phone.

You're not sure how much time has passed, but someone hesitantly sitting next to you takes your attention off your phone. Glancing up, you see Spencer sitting there and realize everyone else has cleared out of the room. "We should be ready to head out in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Soo.. Bucky Barnes." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, and you can tell his amusement isn't exactly genuine. "He's- he's not the type of person I pictured you with if I'm being honest."

"Barnes?" You snort. "Ew. No." Spencer seems surprised by your reply. "Bucky likes to flirt with me because he knows it won't go anywhere. He's well aware of the actual person I have a crush on and he respects that. Mostly."

"O-Oh? So there is someone in the picture then?"

"Well, not really," you say. Squirming in your seat, you're not totally comfortable with the direction this talk has taken until you see you're not the only one squirming. Spencer is avoiding eye contact, but he's also clearly awaiting your answer. There's also a telltale flush up the side of his neck to the tips of his ears, and- oh. Oh. Seeing how nervous Spencer suddenly is makes you feel better. So better, in fact, that you feel you should speak up about something that you've kept secret for a while. "Well I mean I'd like there to be," you say, grinning when he freezes. "The thing is, he actually lives down the hall from me." Cue him holding his breath. "He's totally adorable, but also secretly hot which is so unfair, and he works for the FBI." Spencer's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide. You smile sheepishly and shrug. "The only downfall is that he's way too good for someone like me, so I settled for friendship."

Your heart is beating terribly fast and the only thing keeping you glued to your seat is Spencer grinning bashfully, cheeks pink. "If you ask me, I don't think he's too good at all. I-If anything, he probably thinks you were too good for him which is why he never made his own feelings known."

Relief washes over you and you laugh. "We're idiots, huh?"

Lips pressed together, he smiles wide. Then, "A little."

"Rain check on this discussion? We've got Avengers to greet and you have a case to solve."

"Of course!" Spencer hastily stands, offering you a hand up. Grinning, you take it and let him pull you to your feet while shoving your phone into your back pocket. "Wherever we're going, is it okay to leave our vehicles there?"

"Yeah. It's private property and pretty secluded. No one gets in without codes."

"Okay then. We'll swing by our building for your bag and then you can direct one of the drivers while the other follows."

"Sure. Sounds like a plan."

Because of the connection between the list of victims, you have an escort up to your apartment while you pack a bag. Emily and JJ happily accompany you, leaving Spencer to fend for himself with Morgan and Garcia.

In your apartment, the two female agents waste no time in subtly trying to figure out your exact feelings for their dear friend and you take great amusement in skirting around the answer they so desperately try to pry out of you. And it's only after your duffel is packed do you tell them you and Spencer had admitted some things to each other, but you are planning to talk about it further after their case is closed. JJ seems oddly giddy and Emily coos about their boy genius growing up. You blush, relieved that they've taken a to liking to you. Then when you get back to the vehicles, you know Spencer has been questioned as well given the smirks being sent your way.

The drive to the field isn't long and the team is impressed by the level of security for a seemingly abandoned airfield. There's an unmanned gate which you get off at to speak for voice recognition, punch in a specific code, give a hand print, and then secretly have your forefinger pricked for a blood sample. Then when the gate swings open, you quickly climb back into the car and instruct Emily towards the second gate where a guard sits. The guard greets you warmly and, after you introduce those in the vehicle with you, he assures you he knows all about the impending pick-up.

"So what exactly are we in for?" Morgan asks. You're all waiting in an opened hangar, the boxes they'd packed sitting on the ground.

"Your perceptions about them are about to be changed," you admit. "I'm sure you've all told yourselves that the Avengers are just like you and I, but you have no idea how true that it is until you meet them."

"Who is the nicest?" JJ wonders.

You take a moment to think about. "Honestly? They're all nice, but if I had to choose I'd choose Spider-Man. It's hard not to like him. The kid's a puppy."

"Who gives the best hugs?" Garcia quickly adds.

Everyone chuckles at her eagerness. "That's a tough one," you say. You ponder on it for a moment. "I say it's a tie between Steve and Thor. They hug full on, chest to chest. None of that half-assed, one arm hug nonsense."

Garcia practically swoons. "Oh to be wrapped up in those beefy Asgardian arms." You snort and shake your head in amusement.

Another twenty minutes pass and you regale Spencer and his friends about some of your work with SHIELD. But all too soon the telltale sound of a quinjet reaches your ears and when you look up you see one incoming.

"Well that was hella fast," Garcia muses when she spots the quinjet herself.

JJ grins. "Stark technology. Gotta love it."

Emily nods in agreement. "We definitely need an upgrade."

Whoever is flying the quinjet lands it with ease, and Spencer, Morgan, and JJ immediately pick up their boxes. Shouldering the strap of your duffel bag, you start heading towards the quinjet when the ramp is being lowered and the team follows a few steps behind.

Clint Barton walks off the ramp and you chuckle, hurrying your steps. Both your arms go around his neck and one of his arms wraps low around your waist. "Short stack," he says. "What trouble did you get into now?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm in trouble?" You pout as you pull back, pinching his cheek and cooing before stepping back out of range. "And what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be on the farm with those precious little heathens?"

"I was, but Laura had leftovers for Nat and Wanda. I was just dropping them off when Steve rounded up the team."

"Oh nice." Then turning around, you gesture to the BAU team. "Clint, meet Special Agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the brains of the beauty of the team Miss Penelope Garcia. Guys, meet Clint Barton formerly known as Hawkeye."

Everyone shakes hands, with the exception of Garcia who slaps his hand away and pulls him into a hug.

"Baby girl," Morgan laughs, "what are you doing?"

She squeezes a chuckling Clint before letting go, she then whirling on her own friend. "This is my first time meeting the Avengers. Do not take this from me!" Morgan's eyebrows raise in amusement, the whole team and Clint chuckling.

Then not wasting anymore time, Clint ushers everyone on board. He shows them where the boxes and your bag can be stowed before taking the pilot's seat up front, only to be joined by Morgan moments later in the co-pilot seat. You show Emily and Garcia how to buckle in, and then take your own seat between JJ and Spencer.

Clint counts down for lift off and you grip your harness as you feel the quinjet take flight. Spencer nudges you with his elbow and you glance at him, grinning to assure him you're okay. But when you can feel the quinjet picking up speed thanks to the feeling in your gut, you close your eyes and are thankful that no one brings up the fact that you're actually really nervous right now.

Your left hand is grabbed and gently pried from your grip on the harness, and your eyes fly open in surprise. You look towards your left and JJ smiles at you reassuringly as she squeezes your hand in comfort. Then when your right hand is grabbed and given the same treatment, you glance over at Spencer and can't help but blurt, "I-I've never been nervous about flying before."

"It's perfectly normal to subconsciously be nervous or anxious after we trudged up your past earlier," he says. "Just close your eyes and relax. We won't let anything happen to you."

You nod, smiling shakily and turn your head to rest it against the headrest of your seat. Then closing your eyes, you're grateful for the team not asking you anything for the duration of the ride. Instead, they save their questions for Clint who's all too happy to answer what he can.

You know the Compound's come into view when Morgan whistles in appreciation. Clint lands to quinjet with ease and then everyone's unbuckling themselves when he gives the go ahead. Before you can grab your bag, however, Spencer is grabbing it and beaming at you when you sigh with mock annoyance.

One by one the BAU team disembarks after Clint, leaving you and Spencer to bring up the rear. You hear Clint introducing everyone and notice everyone's congregated around in a circle. Then just as you and Spencer join, you notice that Garcia is petting Bucky's vibranium arm. You snort, catching an amused Steve's attention.

"Y/N," he greets.

"Steve." You step forward, briefly hugging him and then Bucky. As you step back in line, you gesture towards Spencer to introduce him. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid. Spence, this is Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes."

Steve leans in for a handshake, but then pauses mid-shake. "Wait. Spencer Reid? The Spencer Reid?" He grins. "Are you- are you and the agent neighbor one in the same?"

You sharply inhale, eyes widening when everyone turns to stare at your rapidly blushing face. Steve's grin turns rather teasing and your eyes narrow at him. "Two words; octopus dick." Steve's amusement vanishes, and everyone turns towards a now blushing Steve as Bucky guffaws. You turn your gaze on him next. "I don't know why you're laughing, dolphin boy."

Bucky immediately shuts up and Steve shakily grins before addressing the team. "Okay! Now that we've all been introduced, lets get inside before Y/N starts a war she can't finish."

Morgan and JJ are the only two to follow after Steve, Bucky, and Clint. Emily and Garcia remain with you and Spencer, and both females look to you with pleading eyes.

"Please tell me how four innocuous words got two supersoldiers to blush like that?" Garcia asks, Emily nodding along with her. "I need to know!"

"Sorry, girls," you tell them. "Those stories get out and I'm dead meat."

The both of them grumble about not getting answers, but move on without fuss. Before you can follow, however, Spencer steps closer to you. "You won't even tell me?" He asks, voice quiet.

You huff. "You already know."

Spencer's answering smile is enough to make you roll your eyes and he's quick to keep pace with you as you enter the building. There are numerous people milling about, but since it's late most of the trainees are in bed. Every piece of furniture and fixture still seems brand spanking new, so you don't blame the BAU team looking around in awe.

Heading into the chosen office, you lead Spencer inside before catching Steve's attention. "I'm gonna let you guys get to work. I'll be setting up in my room if anyone needs me."

No one objects, so after taking your bag from Spencer you take your leave. You leisurely make your way towards the living quarters of the compound and find your room with ease. Opening the door, the familiarity of it brings a tired smile to your face. The lamps have been turned on, awaiting your arrival, and even the TV has been turned on with its volume on low. The walls and bedding is the same as everyone else has, but you know it's your room because of the personal pictures on the dresser and bedside tables.

Since you're going to be staying until the case is over and then probably a couple days more after, you decide to put your clothes in the dresser rather than leave it in your bag for the entire time. After that's done and you've switched your TV to a movie you like, you pick out a standard set of black sleep pants and a blue/gray shirt that every trainee at the compound wears to bed so you can shower before crawling into bed yourself.

You're grateful for the private bathroom and even more grateful to see the products you use already waiting for you. You turn on the water to the shower, grab a towel from the bathroom closet and set it on the counter along with your change of clothes before you start to strip.

You keep your hair in a topknot as you shower since you had washed it earlier that morning, so your shower is over within ten minutes. Then by the time you're dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and your teeth are brushed, you exit the bathroom.

Stepping into your room, you startle at the sight of Spencer sitting on the small cushioned bench at the foot of your bed. He's staring up at the moving playing, the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement. But at your small gasp, he looks towards you, lips spreading into a fond smile.

"Captain Rogers said it was okay that I wait for you. I don't mean to intrude."

"Spence," you huff a laugh and then continue on towards your bed, "we have keys to each other's apartments and sometimes barge in without warning. I think you waiting in here is more than okay."

"Just needed to make sure," he says, "what with this being a new place and all."

"Mhmm." You sit on the edge of the bed that's right behind the bench, putting your feet on the cushion beside Spencer and practically hug your knees as you stare at him. "How did everyone settle in?"

"E-Everyone's good." Spencer turns sideways, grinning up at you. "We got our own rooms here so we don't have to be back and forth from a hotel. When we left, Garcia was being introduced to the holographic tables and now I don't think she's going to sleep tonight."

You chuckle. "I knew she'd fall prey to all the pretty tech here." He chuckles along with you. "And how did everyone take the news to hearing the details about the case?"

"They're taking it very personally," Spencer tells you. "Mr. Barton even asked to stay on as a consultant. He and agent Romanoff are not very happy."

"Well they might not be as smart as you, Doc, but I think they're going to be a big help. You guys will be out of here in no time with the bad guy in cuffs."

"Is that so?" He muses. You grin and nod. "And if we're out of here in no time, are we still waiting until you go home for that discussion we still need to have?"

"We can table the discussion," you say, "but I really need to do this before I chicken out."

"Do what?"

Without thinking too much more about it, you reach out to cradle Spencer's jaw in the palms of your hands. You bring his face closer to yours, pausing with barely an inch between your lips. It seems he's held his breath in surprise, but when he notices you're waiting for some sort of unspoken permission it's him who closes the gap.

There's nothing heated or rushed about the kiss- it merely being a chaste kiss of several little pecks before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. You smile, your lip popping free from where it stretches, and you giggle as he leans up to chase your lips.

"Ahem." The interruption causes you to jerk back from Spencer, eyes wide when you catch sight of Bucky leaning against your door jamb and looking quite smug. "Hope I'm not interrupting." You groan, laying your forehead on Spencer's shoulder while he quietly snorts. "So with this new development, does this mean our threesome will now be a foursome?"

You can't help but laugh and sit straight once more so you can see your friend. Unfortunately, the question actually gives you pause and there's a split second where you actually give it thought. But in the next moment your nose wrinkles and you shake your head. "What? No!"

He points at you, eyes gleaming. "You paused! You paused which means that no just turned into a maybe. I'm gonna go tell Stevie we're back in the game!"

"James!" Spencer finally laughs and you groan again when Bucky pushes off the door jamb, whistling as he walks away. "I hate my friends."

"Just wait until Morgan finds out. It'll be worse." Spencer chuckles as you sigh, and he gets up before walking around to the side of your bed. He places his palms down on the mattress, leaning over you to kiss you once more. "I'm gonna go to my room before Sergeant Barnes brings back reinforcements."

"Okay. I'll probably see you around the compound, but I'll do my best to stay out of your hair while you're looking for your unsub."

"Are we still talking after?"

"Of course. Well we can either talk or order in some Chinese and hole up in one of our apartments for a weekend. Your call."

"I like the second option," he says.

"I figured you would." You kiss him one last time and then push against his chest. "Now go. We'll figure things out soon."

#spencer reid x reader #marvel gen fic x reader #avengers imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #marvel imagine #spencer reid #steve rogers #bucky barnes #clint barton #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #fanficimagery

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sophia-goodnight-poetry · 3 years

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I'm going to try something new this year where I do a write-up of every book I read, movie I watch, and game I play, just to keep myself conscious. The first few are going to be weird; media that I was already in the process of reading or playing or whatever, so the perspective is a bit odd. One foot in the past, one foot in the future. But what isn't like that? It will also all be viewed through the fever I have.

Besides this one, I'll be posting them all to tumblr and patreon; however, since this one is about a fanfiction, I'm going to play it very safe and only post it to tumblr.

Let me tell you about Godfeels.

Godfeels is a Homestuck fanfiction. I won't bore you with all sorts of "but it's so much more than fanfic," rhetoric, because, well, it absolutely is, but it also shouldn't have to be. There's been a lot of talk of IP Law this January, as I believe there is every January, what with Winnie the Pooh entering the public domain and Disney owning, you know, half of our culture. These laws stifle creativity; people who can spin wonderful tales but envision them with characters who already exist cannot make so much of a cent off of these tales, leaving them to toil away at the value extraction farms of retail and offices and service and mining and medicine and more in order to simply live; if they can still spend their scant energy left on writing, they may even run the risk of being sued into oblivion by vampiric authors whose deaths have been fairly celebrated on the internet.

Godfeels is a homestuck fanfiction that has created people. I don't mean fictional characters, though it has also done that, having a minimum of 6 OCs that readers have become deeply invested in. I mean people. Godfeels has inspired the self-bits of multiple plural systems to cohere into entire persons modeled after characters created by or presented in the fiction. In particular of course, these derive from those 6 OCs, or characters who were once in Homestuck. How does the personhood of the Nepeta Leijon who resides in my head interact with copyright law?

Let me tell you about plurality.

Sometimes, a person is simply a person. They have one body and one mind and that mind keeps a generally sequential idea of itself regardless of mood swings, mind altering substances, or presenting a different face. This is the dominant mode of thinking about the self held by our culture, and so it is at least apparently the case for the majority of persons in our lives.

Sometimes, there is more happening. Sometimes one body contains two, three, sixty-seven, three hundred, one-point-five, or even NaN persons. The reasons for this are so varied that sometimes there may not even be a reason. This state of being has been pathologized by the dominant modes of thinking which rule our world into what you are likely to know as DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), formerly known as MPD (Multiple Personality Disorder). There is a nasty history around these terms, but right now the commonly accepted medicalized name is DID. The most commonly utilized non-medicalized term is Plurality. Not all Plurality is DID, and not even all medicalized plurality is DID – there is also OSDD-II. In any case, plurality is real, and so are each of those people regardless of how many other people they share a body with. There are people who can explain all of this better than I can.

Let me tell you again about Godfeels.

Godfeels is about the first character of Homestuck, John Egbert, first realizing that he has depression, and then realizing that she is a girl, and then realizing that she has become a few people. Also, she is a God, as are all of her friends and family. She also has Borderline Personality Disorder. Gods often create apocalypses.

The Epilogue of the 8th chapter of the first part of the third Godfeels released on Tuesday, January 4th. It tidied up a lot of things and set the stage for the second part of the third Godfeels. It is very good, but to say much about why it is good would be to spoil much of the fun. What I can share in my review is that iit is a rumination on what it is to be a story told by someone, and what it is to no longer be the character, i mean person, you originally were. Anyone who is trans, plural, or has simply ever gotten older (that is to say, everyone) should have some understanding of these ideas, or should likely develop such an understanding for their own well-being and health

May I suggest you read Godfeels?

#Godfeels #Review I guess #fanfic #homestuck #reader response #plurality #recommendation

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harrystylescherry · 4 years

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Somebody Else (Harry Styles Mini Series) Part 4

a/n: here she iiiissss and she is a looooot. A LOT happens here. I spent a lot of time on this one so I hope you guys like it :) :)

feedback is always appreciated and if you like it pls reblog !!

what it is: friends w/ benefits, friends to lovers? situation between Harry and (y/n)

what’s in here: pure fucking MESS bby (i told u it was gonna start getting messy)

side note: i started creating a playlist for this mini series. it’s rather short right now but she’s growing, if you want story vibes. You can find it HERE.

word count: 6k

MASTERLIST

here we go:

“Stop doing that,” your roommate plucked your phone from your hands and threw it on your bedroom floor. “How many times are you going to go through that girl’s Instagram, (Y/N/N)?”

“I can’t help it,” you groaned.

“Why are you so hung up on that girl anyway? Is she dating Harry or something?” She joked but stopped laughing when she saw the look on your face. “Oh, no. You finally did it, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you pushed yourself into a sitting position and got up. You started to leave your room as she followed.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You finally acted on your feelings, didn’t you? I knew it. I knew the two of you had been weird lately. Oh, my god!” She was giddy with excitement.

When you had moved into the flat, you and L didn’t know one another at all--she was just a fellow student who was in desperate need of a roommate, but you two had grown close and she was your first real friend in London. If it wasn’t for Harry, she would’ve been your best friend. Ever since your and Harry’s friendship became public knowledge, and she was finally privy to its existence, she made it known that she didn’t think your relationship could stay platonic forever.

It was really the only reason that you didn’t tell her when you and Harry started being a little more than just friends--you knew she would never let it go and just create more theories about what was going on between you two.

You turned around to her, causing her to run straight into you since you were walking down the hallway, “L, you cannot tell anyone, okay? No one. This does not leave this apartment. Don’t even mention it to Harry if he comes by, okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” Her face dropped a little and a concerned expression overtook her face, “(Y/N), you know I would never tell anyone, right?”

You sighed, “Yeah, I know. I just--it would be bad if anyone ever found out, you know?”

She nodded and you turned back around as she started talking again, “So you guys are fucking.”

“Yup,” when you two got to the kitchen, you went to the fridge and grabbed the white wine as L moved to grab two glasses.

“But you obviously have feelings for him and--”

“What?” you put the bottle down on the counter a bit too harshly, causing her to jump.

“You have feelings for him.” She repeated, as if it was obvious.

“I do not. I have a crush, that’s it.”

“Well, it’s the strongest crush I’ve ever seen,” she mumbled.

“I admit, the sex made it a little stronger but it’s nothing more than that. Obviously, I’m going to be attracted to the guy I’m fucking--that’s kind of the whole point.”

“But you look at him like you’re more than just attracted to him, babe. It’s more than obvious--and not just to me. I’ve seen the Tumblr theories. They all seem to agree with me.” While you stood and stared at her with your hands on your hips, she took the bottle and poured two full glasses.

You picked up your glass and took a big sip, “Well, they’re wrong.”

“Sure, they’re wrong. That’s why you were stalking the Instagram of...who? Some girl Harry’s dating?”

“They’re not dating,” You corrected her. “He just thinks he likes her. They haven’t actually had a date yet. The first date is tonight actually.” Your eyes drifted over to the digital clock on the stove. It was 7:30; she would be at his apartment sometime in the next thirty minutes. You took another gulp of wine.

You thought back to the conversation that you and Harry had yesterday:

He had asked you over to talk about your current situation. You felt nervous the entire tube ride over to his and felt the uncomfortable tension the minute you walked into his house. You knew he asked you over to talk about the fact that he had Serena coming over the next day and that could potentially change the situation between the two of you.

“So, your date is tomorrow,” you started, wanting to get the conversation over with.

“Yeah, uhm,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I just figured we should maybe talk about, you know, everything.”

“Yeah, I agree.” You walked over to his living room and you both sat on the couch facing one another.

“Obviously, it’s just a date and, like, absolutely nothing could come out of it…”

“But if it does, we would obviously have to end the sex thing between us…” I continued for him.

“But not the friend thing--because you’re my best friend, right?” He finished.

“Of course, H. I wouldn’t stop being your friend just because we couldn’t fuck anymore. The most important rule is that our friendship comes first, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, but I just wanted to make sure that going on a date was okay.” He looked down as he played with the rings on his fingers.

I rolled my eyes, “Harry, obviously going on a date is okay. We’re not dating--that’s kind of the point of the friends with benefits thing. Just fucking, no feelings, right?”

He smiled back at me, but it didn’t seem to quite reach his eyes, “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, good. Glad we’re on the same page.” You put your hand over his fidgeting ones, “Look, since you’re the one with the potential love interest, this is over when you say it’s over. If you want that to be now, then we can end it--it’s up to you.”

To your relief, he shook his head, “No! It’s just a first date. I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

“Okay, so we continue?”

“We continue...maybe right now?”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” L pulled the takeout menus from their spot in the drawer under your sink.

“No, why would it?” You could hear the attitude slip into your voice.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I’m just making sure you’re good, babe. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“L, it’s fine. We have boundaries and we agreed that our friendship would always come first.”

“That all sounds great in theory, (Y/N/N), but it could end up being a lot harder to put into practice.”

I downed more wine, “Well, it’s been working fine for the past three months, so we’re good.”

She choked on her wine, “Three months?! And I’m just finding out about this now?!”

You looked at her through sorry eyes, “Yeah. We were just trying to be careful, L. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just…” You trailed off, not really having any other explanation other than that you didn’t tell her out of caution; you didn’t want her to think that you didn’t trust her again, because you did, but with what Harry and you were doing, there was kind of a lot at stake if people found out.

She wiped some wine from her chin, “I swear I won’t tell a soul, not even Jeremy.” She gave me a look that told me she was being deadly serious.

You held your pinky out to her, and she smiled before wrapping hers around it.

———————————

You settled yourself onto your couch the next day with your hands wrapped around a mug of tea. It was June, but it was down pouring and you wanted nothing more than to have a cozy day.

Harry sat down next to you with his own mug in hand and looked at you with expectant eyes.

“Can I help you?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

“About wh--? Oh,” you nodded slowly, as if you had completely forgotten about his date the night before, but you absolutely did not. In fact, it had been on your mind all morning while you waited for him to come over. It had also been on your mind all last night and you couldn’t figure out why, nor could you shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. “How did your date go?”

He looked at you, beaming, “It went really well, like, so good.”

“Awh, H,” you placed your hand on his knee and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “I’m really happy for you.” Your smile felt as if you were forcing it and a wave of guilt washed over you. What was your issue?

“We’re having our second date this weekend, because she has, like, castings or whatever all week and then I was thinking if that goes well then maybe I could invite her out one night with us and our friends? Like, see how she gets on with everyone?” He looked at you nervously with his mug tucked in his lap.

You squeezed the light blue ceramic between your hands so tight you were shocked it didn’t crack, “Yeah, of course!”

Harry leaned back in obvious relief and threw his arm over your shoulder before pulling you into him, but you didn’t nestle into him like you usually did. “You alright, love?” He looked down at you with concern in his eyes—you were usually so eager to snuggle into his side and he could tell by the pensive look on your face that something was off.

You waved a dismissive hand at him and sighed, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Harry bent down to plant a comforting kiss on the top of your head as you readjusted so you were fully leaning into him and could rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

“That’s better.”

—————————————

“You know you’re being fucking stupid, right?” You said to Harry from your spot on his bed as you scrolled through Twitter.

He was lost somewhere in his closet, a pile of clothes already formed at the foot of his bed. You could hear him pulling things off of hangers as he groaned and whined about not having anything to wear. He emerged from the relatively large space in only his underwear with his hands on his hips. “You’re real fucking useless tonight, love.”

You smiled when you heard his pet name for you slip in despite his insult. For whatever reason, when the two of you became close, he stopped calling other people “love”; when you had noticed it and asked him why, he simply shrugged and told you that it only sounded right when it was on you.

You had been getting ready to go out with L and her boyfriend Jeremy when you got a frantic call from Harry. His second date with Serena was tonight and apparently, he was nervous—more nervous than he was for the first date, which you couldn’t really understand. You promised him that you would be over as soon as you finished getting ready, but that didn’t stop him from texting you every ten minutes asking if you were on your way yet.

You swung your pointy heel clad foot back and forth as you leaned back on one arm and looked at him, your other leg folded under you. “Harry, you have more than enough clothing. You have more than enough very nice and very expensive clothing. I don’t understand why you can’t just pick something. It’s not like you guys are going anywhere. Isn’t she coming over for drinks and a late dinner? Why can’t you just put on a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt—like, the outfit you wore that one night we went out. You looked good and it’s not too much.”

His hands dropped from his hips as he thought your suggestion over. “Hm, yeah that could work.” He murmured before disappearing back into his closet and you returned to your phone.

L shot you a text reminding you that the Uber would be at Harry’s to pick you up in less than an hour. The plan was that you were going to dinner and then bar/club hopping. At first, you protested being the third wheel, not because they ever made you feel like one, but because it was embarrassing to be seen as one in public, but L insisted until you broke down and agreed.

“You know, I never actually did tell you how absolutely gorgeous you look.”

Your eyes looked up from your phone to see a grinning Harry, now fully dressed in your suggested outfit. “Thanks,” you felt a blush cloud your cheeks as he continued to stare at you.

You were in your power outfit tonight. It was the one you wore whenever you needed a bit of an extra confidence boost. Look, if people were going to see you as a third wheel tonight, they were at least going to see you as a hot third wheel. Your pants were straight leg, high waisted and bright red; it was a set, the top being a small and tight crop that hugged your midsection, with tiny spaghetti straps over your shoulders. You wanted to be noticed tonight; hopefully noticed by a guy, or several, since Harry was busy with other things.

Harry moved towards you and leaned close, planting his hands on the plush bed on either side of you. “I would kiss you, but I don’t want to mess up that pretty red mouth.”

You shrugged one shoulder, “I could always reapply.”

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your lips and then placed another, a bit harder. The pressure of his lips on yours grew with each kiss until the only way for him to kiss you any deeper was for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He let out a small moan when you nipped at his bottom lip. He finally moved his hands from their spot on the bed to your back as he wrapped you up in his arms. Your arms moved to go around his neck as you let your phone drop from your hands, and he lifted you slightly when he moved onto the bed and pulled you up with him, so you were fully lying on your back. Harry hovered over you, his hands moving up and down your sides slowly as he kissed you.

Instead of becoming more aggressive and dominant like you thought he would—like he usually did—he kept his slow place and moved to lay next to you on his side. He rested his head on his pillow and you turned over to join him, not breaking your kiss while either of you moved into the new position. Both of his hands stayed on your waist and his tongue swirled over yours as you reached out one hand and placed it on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He slipped his hands from your waist to your back and tightened them, so you were flush against him.

It felt nice, kissing him like that; his lips moving slowly against yours, wrapped up in a hug, with your legs intertwined with his. You took your lips off his and kissed his jaw, which prompted him to tilt his head back, so you had better access to his neck. You placed delicate kisses to his neck, aware that this wasn’t supposed to be the way it usually was between the two of you: hungry and desperate and dirty. This was slow and sensual—and intimate. Your tongue brushed against a sweet spot on his neck, but only lightly, and Harry let out a sigh. You peppered kisses back up his neck as he let out soft sighs, and then placed a kiss on his and moaned when you felt his hard bulge against your thigh.

He brushed the hand that wasn’t under you down your side to your hip, before he moved and slid it over your ass. He let out a low groan as he dug his fingers into your skin and you squeezed your thighs together, fully aware of the wetness gathering in your panties. You untangled one of your legs from his and draped it over his so that your lower half was pushed against him. His hand ran repeatedly from your ass down to your thigh, where he gave it a squeeze. He moved his hand back up and brought his thumb up to your chest, brushing it lightly over your nipple through your top. You shivered as your nerves tingled. You sighed into the kiss while he continued the movement of his thumb.

Harry was leaning down to kiss your neck when the shrill sound of your ringtone disrupted whatever moment you and Harry had created.

“Ignore it,” he mumbled into your neck, so you did, not wanting to lose whatever was happening between the two of you at the moment. You were worried that if you ended it, you would never get this level of intimacy back—that it would be a one-time thing and you knew that you would be longing to kiss him again like this tomorrow.

When it went off again, you groaned, realizing that it was probably L. Harry whined as you moved to get out of his arms, and you smiled. You kissed him once again on the lips, “Harry, I need to get it, it could be L.”

He sighed in disappointment and annoyance but released you. You grabbed your phone and your eyes widened when you saw that thirty minutes had passed. You had a text from L that told you the uber would be arriving at Harry’s in fifteen minutes, five minutes ago, which meant you had ten minutes to get it together.

You turned back to Harry and tilted your head to the side, a sorry pout on your lips. He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes while he heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Sorry, H, they’re on their way to get me.”

He pushed himself off of the bed, “It’s probably for the best, anyway.” You looked at him, pure confusion etched onto your face. “You know,” he explained, “it’s probably not the best idea to fuck my best friend an hour before I have a date.”

“Oh,” you drew the word out, not really knowing what else to say, the stinging you felt in your chest completely taking over. You had completely forgotten all about his date, that girl, while you were wrapped up in his arms. In a fleeting moment, the thought that he would probably kiss her like that came to mind, but you shook it away and cleared your throat, “I should go…” you motioned to the mess your lipstick had most certainly created with your finger, “fix this.”

Harry tossed you your bag and you moved into his bathroom and closed the door behind you. You placed your hands on the sides of the sink and leaned forward, letting your head drop down. What the fuck was wrong with you? You had kissed Harry all the time, but it had never felt like that—so intimate, so romantic. It didn’t seem as though that kiss was leading to a fuck, to something dirty, but instead to—no. You raised your head and looked yourself in the mirror before tucking your hair confidently behind your ears.

You weren’t going to analyze the kiss or give it another thought. As much as you didn’t want it to be, it was surely an anomaly—that was the only safe way to think about it. He was in a weird, romantic mood because of his date with that girl later and that was all. It honestly, probably, had nothing to even do with you.

You grabbed a makeup wipe from the to-go pack you carried in your bag (exactly for situations like this one) and wiped the red from your lips and where it had smudged around your mouth. As you fixed the makeup around your mouth with the mini concealer you kept with you (because you weren’t an amateur), your mind drifted back to the way he held you and the way his foot rubbed against your ankle as he kissed you.

You sighed in frustration as you pulled out your red lipstick and began reapplying it with expert precision. “This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.” You whispered to yourself as dangerous thoughts floated through your mind.

Still aware of the wetness between your thighs, you cleaned yourself up and fixed your pants and top, making sure that you left looking just as you came before exiting the bathroom.

Harry was laying on his bed and looked over at you when you reentered the room, “I know I said it before, but you look really fucking good.”

“Thanks,” you didn’t look at him as you grabbed your phone from where it sat on his bad.

He sat up quickly, “What happened?” He had noticed the slightly harsh tone of your voice.

“Nothing,” you faced his worried expression. “Just third wheeling tonight and I’m not exactly pleased, but it is what it is,” you lied. You knew exactly where your tone was coming from.

He pushed himself off of the bed and walked over to you as you opened his bedroom door to head downstairs. “I wish I could come. Third wheeling is ass.”

“It is ass.” You turned your head to look at him while you descended the stairs, “But don’t lie; you so do not wish you could come. You’ve got better things to do tonight.” Just in time, you received a text from L letting you know that they were out front.

Harry put on a show of thinking it over, seeming to weigh the options in his hands dramatically, “You’re right, I do.” He smirked and you wacked him on the shoulder. You pretended not to be as genuinely offended as you were and rolled your eyes.

You told Harry that they were there and pulled him into a hug. He kissed you on the cheek and told you to have fun, but to be safe and you thanked him.

You opened his front door, but before stepping out, turned to him, “Oh, by the way, you might want to wash your face…and your neck.” You smirked, “Unless you want her to know that I had gotten to you first.” You watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before turning and closing the door behind you.

————————————

Harry was in his bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror; actually, he was staring at the bright red smudges and kiss marks that you had left all over his fucking neck and thinking about how good it felt to kiss you.

He sighed before pulling off his t-shirt; he grabbed a towel and wet it with soap and water and started working to clean off the stubborn lipstick from his skin.

He thought about how different that kiss felt and realized that the two of you had never only kissed before. You had never merely made out and for a moment he felt panic rise in his chest. Sure, he would kiss you goodbye, or hello, or give you a few short pecks after sex, but the two of you had never spent thirty minutes kissing before—no foreplay, no real touching going on. It scared him, but he knew how good it had felt and he wanted to do it again. He liked holding you close to him and kissing you without being in any rush, without the idea of what comes next lurking in the back of his mind like it did when the two of you fucked. He wondered if it had felt different for you; if you had noticed that it wasn’t like all the other times before.

He knew he couldn’t ask you. It was too much of a risk—and besides, he didn’t even know what it meant. “You bloody idiot,” he dropped the washcloth into the sink and grabbed a dry towel. “It doesn’t mean anything.” He swore to himself. He told himself that that moment between the two of you would exist in a vacuum—it had to. Being intimate with you, in that way, was too confusing. It made your arrangement feel blurry, as though there was a hint of it being about more than just sex, because that was, in fact, not just sex. That couldn’t happen. The rules stated no feelings—not even a fucking hint of feeling beyond friendship—that was the deal.

And your friendship. Your friendship was more important to him than knowing if those thirty minutes felt as confusing for you as it did for him, and risking blowing all of it up. He figured it wasn’t anything, and that it wouldn’t happen again.

He looked down at his phone which vibrated in its place on the sink. It was Serena telling him that she was on her way. For the first time that week, he wasn’t excited about seeing her again. Part of him wanted to cancel their date and meet up with you and your friends instead. He shook his head, annoyed and angry with himself for even thinking about it.

He needed Serena; he needed her to sort his head. He liked her, a lot, and one kind of romantic kiss wasn’t going to change that. It wasn’t going to change anything. He texted her back: can’t wait to see you x and went back downstairs to start getting everything ready.

——————————

The three of you were walking into the Indian restaurant when you noticed a guy waving. You made a mental note that he was cute and turned your head to see if he was waving to his girlfriend or possible boyfriend when you noticed Jeremy waving back. That’s when it hit you.

You stopped walking and gripped onto L’s arm, “Do you want me to fucking kill you?”

She rolled her eyes, “No. Look, (Y/N), he’s Jer’s close friend, he’s cute, and you’re single.” She lowered her voice, “I figured with everything going on with Harry, you know, the whole dating-someone-who-isn’t-you-thing, that you going on a date with someone else could be good! At the very least, I think it would be good for you to fuck someone that isn’t Harry for once, even if you don’t particularly take a liking to him.” She motioned towards Jer and his friend with her head.

You thought it over. Your plan tonight was to flirt with guys in your hot outfit and not think about the fact that Harry was on a second date—not that it bothered you, you just didn’t want to be sitting home like a loser when he wasn’t. You wanted to make sure that he knew you weren’t just sitting around waiting for him to text you for a fuck.

The problem was, you didn’t really want to fuck anyone other than Harry. You looked at the guy with his sandy hair and fit build and you could admit that you were attracted to him, but you couldn’t see yourself fucking him. You couldn’t see yourself fucking anyone, really, other than your best friend—which was exactly why you decided that you needed to.

“I’m always down for a good hate-fuck.”

She squeezed your arm, “That’s my girl!” You two started approaching them as she gave you some background, “His name is Devin; he’s from North London; he’s in business where he makes pretty good money; he reads—I know you love that—and he’s hot. He also asked Jer to set this up when he saw pictures of you on my Instagram, so even though I know you love a good hate-fuck, I am begging you to be nice to him and to not crush his soul.” She gave you a light shove in his direction, not giving you the chance to respond.

You held out your hand, “Hi, I’m (Y/N).”

He shook it, “Devin. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you felt a blush move up your neck as you took in his facial features. He was more than cute—deep blue eyes, sharp and square jawline, slightly crooked nose and pink lips.

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you two followed Jer and L to the table.

——————————

“I’ll be right back,” Serena said as she got up from the couch. Harry watched her slender figure disappear behind the corner where the bathroom was.

He was having a good time, enjoying hearing about how her week went, which jobs she thought she got and which ones she didn’t, and he liked telling her about the songs he was working on—but she didn’t dig deeper and ask more questions like you did. Instead of giving that thought any real attention, he brushed it off, thinking that had to be because they weren’t close yet the way the two of you were close.

He hadn’t thought much about you since she had arrived, but now that she was no longer in front of him, he felt the urge to text you. He wondered what you were up to, whether or not you were getting into any trouble, if you were thinking about him at all.

He gave into temptation and picked up his phone, opening up Instagram. He went to your profile and frowned when he saw that you hadn’t updated your story. Harry then went to your followers and typed in L’s name and felt a small burst in his chest when he saw that colorful circle around her profile picture.

He clicked on it and smiled when he saw you and L doing shots, huge, tipsy smiles on your faces; he saw you seeming to dance alone, swaying your hips to a Whitney Houston remix because of course; his smile dropped when it changed to the next story and he saw you—with a guy. He was all over you, whispering close to your ear, his hand wrapped tightly around your waist. He tightened his grip on his phone and clicked back to watch it again and then again. He felt the familiar feeling of jealousy swell in his chest and again, panic set in, because this time, he couldn’t blame his feelings on being drunk or horny. He was sober and he was mad.

He knew he was being ridiculous and that he had no right to be angry—he was on a fucking date, after all. He didn’t even know why he was jealous; he didn’t have feelings for you. A crush, definitely, but concrete, romantic feelings? No.

He rushed to put his phone away when he heard Serena approaching. She took her spot next to Harry and he hesitantly placed his arm around her and watched her blush in the dim light.

She was pretty—blond, thin but in shape, with brown eyes. He thought that he could be with her and that he could maybe even grow to love her, but only if that voice in the back of his mind would shut up about how she didn’t laugh like you and how he knew her kiss would never be like yours. He pulled her into him, the way he often did to you, and for a second the way she nestled into him reminded him of you. For a second, it felt right.

——————————

You couldn’t kiss him. He tried, but you couldn’t do it. You didn’t know why, but the as soon as you saw his eyes flutter shut you backed out. You could see his confidence falter and the slight hurt behind his eyes; you had been leading him on all night, flirting with him, dancing with him and during all of that, you thought you wanted to kiss him—but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You were embarrassed and felt awful, even though you knew that you didn’t owe him anything. You didn’t owe him a kiss and he didn’t act as though you did. He was actually sweet and understanding (even though you didn’t give him an explanation because you didn’t have one), which only made you feel worse.

It was his hands. They were soft, when they touched your arm or rested on your upper back. They weren’t etched with familiar callouses and the rings on his fingers didn’t leave a trail of goosebumps from their chill because he didn’t wear any.

You let your head fall back against the brick where you stood outside the club, waiting for your Uber. You were drunk and thinking stupid drunk thoughts. Stupid drunk thoughts where you didn’t want anyone other than Harry touching you. Ugh, you thought, why am I such a needy fucking drunk? That’s what it was. You were drunk. Drunk you wanted only Harry because she was irrational and craved familiarity. Sober you, on the other hand, would never think these things. Sober you didn’t care that Harry was probably making out with that girl, nor would she have left before kissing Devin—but sober you was long gone and drunk you was making everything confusing.

Drunk you loved thinking about the kiss from earlier. She loved thinking about it so much that it was all she fucking thought about after her third tequila shot.

You shot a text to Harry: are you up?

And then another: this isn’t a booty call lol I just wanna hang

That was true. You were confused and slightly mixed up from the kiss and you just wanted the comfort of your friend while you slowly sobered up. You wanted to sit with Harry on the couch and watch whatever awful reruns were playing at this time, cuddled under a blanket until you fell asleep. You wanted him because he was familiar and the only real family you had in London and you needed comfort while your mind raged a war within itself. You wanted to talk to him about your confusion; about how you seemed to be thinking about him a lot lately—a lot more than you used to, and how you were sure it was just your crush rearing its head but you wanted to talk all of it out just to make sure. You wanted to tell him that the kiss did something to you and it was bothering you because you couldn’t figure out what exactly it did. You wanted him to reassure you that you didn’t have feelings for him and that things just got a little muddy today, but that they wouldn’t again and that everything was simple.

Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen though because, while you were a lot of things, you weren’t a fucking idiot. You would have to be out of your mind to bring any of that inner turmoil up. Especially when it was obvious that none of it would matter. It didn’t matter that you were worried about potentially budding feelings, or that you were thinking about him way too often in a not-so-friendly way, or that you couldn’t kiss someone because of him because he was on a date with a girl he seemed to really like. You couldn’t jeopardize that or put him in an uncomfortable position. You were his best friend first, no matter what. Your friendship came first. You couldn’t risk putting that in danger.

------------------------------

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