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islandofsages · 2 years

Note

Heyy could I request platonic venti taking care of his sick friend who has a high fever? Have a nice day!

summary: in which he tries his best to tend to you.

characters: venti x gn!reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, reader lives in mondstadt, fluff, fic format, diluc is mentioned

warnings: hand-holding

author's notes: sorry for being late again 😭 well, better late than never right lmao,, and yes i threw in yet another will wood reference, someone stop me. anyways i hope you like this and you have a nice day too anon <3

word count: 1.4k

“So uh…what exactly do mortals eat when they’re sick?”

Diluc sighs as he continues to mix a drink, hands and shaker in the air with a posture that could easily be read as this routine being second-nature to him. Venti kicks his feet in a bored manner as he waits for the redhead’s answer, his hands also fiddling, though with his glass of wine. Diluc only has the drunken state of most of the patrons to thank for the lack of attention drawn to Venti’s seemingly strange question.

“Medicine.”

“Yeah but medicine like what? Back in my days, we just drank ourselves to death - and damn it, we liked it!”

Venti playfully reminisces as he takes another sip of his drink and Diluc rolls his eyes at the ridiculous confession. By then, Venti’s beginning to feel a little tipsy, though that is no surprise for his little sip was of his 11th glass of wine. The redhead only shakes his head, already and unfortunately too familiar with the bard’s antics. Even when Diluc starts to rummage through his pockets, Venti pays no mind to his surroundings. “Here. Take them to (Y/N). …Don’t say I’m the one who gave you these though.”

Only when Diluc extends a few packets of medicine and pills does Venti raise his head from the counter curiously. Public display of kindness aside, how did Diluc know he was asking for (Y/N)? Perhaps Jean had told him? Either way, that isn’t a question Venti bothers asking, not when the redhead is offering to be so nice to him…or rather (Y/N). Still, there is one question lounging in Venti's mind.

“And why not, my dear Diluc?”

“Because it’ll make you look like an unsympathetic asshole, you fool.”

Venti lets out a melodramatic gasp at Diluc’s choice of words to which Diluc only rolls his eyes yet again. The latter only puts the packets on the counter and returns to mixing his drink, Venti unaware the shaker is still in his hand in the first place. Venti only stares suspiciously at the medicine - not suspicious of the fact that they came from Diluc, oh no, he is more suspicious of how tiny bits of dust could possibly heal a human being. What curious creatures humans are.

He snatches the packets swiftly and rushes out the door, to Diluc’s dismay. The redhead screams after the bard, the latter already far enough from the tavern to not hear his angry voice boom out.

“You better pay later, you dolt! With actual Mora this time!”

Despite his slight lightheadedness, he’s still somewhat sane enough to at least knock on your door instead of barging in recklessly like an imbecile (though Diluc has called him that in two different ways in one night already). Though…when he hears no verbal response nor footsteps, then he barges into your house. Even so, he tries his best to remain graceful despite the ruckus he’s making would make someone mistake him for a burglar.

“Oh (Y/N)~ I got some medicine for you! Where are you~?”

He searches for you all around the house except for the bedroom where you lay in your bed. You feel the urge to laugh at the sound of his footsteps littering all over your humble abode as if you two are playing some form of hide and seek or Windtrace - but a raspy cough escapes your lips instead, your throat feeling scratchy as all hell. Your more-than-concerning cough acts as a guide for your best friend; merely seconds after your cough, he finds his way to you.

“(Y/N)! There you are! Oh wow, your face is really red…”

He makes his way to you with light steps, borderline tiptoeing. Venti’s smile is quickly replaced by a frown despite - or maybe because of - the weak smile you offer him. He sits on the edge of your bed, on the right side where you lay and for a few moments, he simply observes you and your movements, or lack thereof.

“Um, here, I brought some medicine which I totally didn’t get from Master Diluc. But, uh, if you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask!”

He says and gently puts the packets of medicine on your stomach, though concealed by a blanket. You manage a laugh this time and a shake of your head makes him scratch the back of his head sheepishly with that signature chuckle of his. You attempt to make a grab for the medicine, and while you are successful, Venti suddenly puts his hand on yours.

“Your body heat’s really high too…wait here.”

He then rises and leaves the room just as abruptly. You were about to tell him that you need some water for the pills; though you do find it amusing how he’s trying so hard to understand and empathize with mortal issues such as illnesses. He may be able to get drunk but you suppose that as an Archon, he is still as immune to diseases despite being able to develop allergies. You then start to wonder…how many milligrams of him is truly him?

“I’m back! Hope you weren’t waiting too long~”

Venti enters and a glint reflected from his hand steals your attention - a full glass of water shimmers, thanks to the ribbons of moonlight twirling their way into your room through your window; oh, you forgot to draw the curtains, you think to yourself. No wonder your room seems to glow despite the lights being off. Your train of thought is interrupted by yet another uncomfortable cough.

Upon hearing that, Venti quickly sits back down on the edge of the bed and hands you the glass with a small nod. You accept his offer and with your other hand, you grab your medicine that Venti totally didn’t get from Diluc. You sigh before you go through the usual meds-taking procedure, gulping down pills you didn’t even bother to question the effectiveness of. Again, Venti only watches you silently, as if you’re an otherworldly specimen that somehow made its way to Teyvat (and maybe you are).

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

You ask once you think his gaze is becoming a little unnerving. As if a spell has been broken, he blinks once, then twice, and the thin line on his face stretches into a full smile. He leans forward and cups one side of his mouth with his right hand cheekily to whisper-shout.

“Well yes, there is something on your face - a very bright red blush!”

You both laugh at his words, though you choke on a few coughs in between. As soon as you two finish laughing, he takes your hands in his and gently, he caresses them with his oh-so-silky fingers. Up and down, over and over again, soothing whatever phantom pains that once resided in between exhausted flesh. You say nothing and take the time to cherish such a silent moment with him, comforted by his gesture.

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

He breaks the silence yet his routine persists. His voice was quiet, an unreadable silence that tickles your curiosity, beside the fact that he looks quite vulnerable at the moment. Your response was simple, as to not give away that curiosity, fearing the cat wounds itself before it even escapes the bag. The bard clears his throat.

“...I think I’m bad at taking care of sick people.”

At that, you let out the biggest laugh your raspy throat could muster. Venti is silent, though his eyes are now on you and on him, is a smaller yet more genuine smile. You make a quick grab for the glass of water just so you wouldn’t choke on your coughs again. Once you finish rehydrating, you intertwine your fingers with his, forcing a halt on his routine. But he doesn’t seem bothered in the least.

“You may be bad at that but you sure are a professional at being a friend.”

He doesn’t reply, save for his tightening grip on your hands; you remember what it’s like to be a good friend yourself. Someone who doesn’t treat you as if you’re made of glass, who doesn’t treat you as if you’re omnipotent, who simply treats you as an entity worthy of compassion and kindness - Venti is that to you. And you hope you are that to him too.

Love can be quite contagious, after all.

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asteria-argo · 18 hours

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Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

tagged by the wonderful wonderful @altschmerzes

1. How many fandoms have you written in?

Written in about 15 but I've only published in two. According to ao3 it's five but that's because of the umbrella fandom of DC comics.

2. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Since I was around 6 and I'm now 20 so about,,, 14 years

3. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I read way more than I write, I read a bare minimum of 3 fics a day and I go through really long periods of not writing anything so I for sure read more than I write

4. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

since I started publishing my fics I've gotten a lot better at actually finishing them, but my grammar and tense has also improved A Lot just from practicing even if it's still not the best out there.

5. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I mean it's not that weird but I get very hyperfixated on small details so I did a lot of researching into the different degrees offered at Yale and Harvard in order to decide what degrees I think would be offered at a fictional Ivy League university when I was writing character bios a little while ago.

Also for To All The Better Places I spent a truly inane amount of time researching grassroots U12 girls football teams for a side character so I could name one in the right area that would suit her needs the best.

6. What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

long ones for sure. I love getting long comments especially on my longer fics where people like,, point out things they liked or quote my work as me. Also love those like,, live slug reaction comments you get sometimes where people go paragraph by paragraph telling you their thoughts as they have them in one long comment,

7. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I have a lot of ambiguous gender feelings a lot of the time, and I also grew up watching a lot of "boy" oriented media that would only have like,, one or two girl characters at best so from a young age I was fascinated with reading like,, canon divergent "always-a-girl" trope fics and I have written a couple of them myself which I think is a bit of an unpopular trope in wider fandom.

8. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

angst and whump because I really struggle describing physical sensation and angst usually just ends up with me making myself sad and/or sick in the process of writing it if I don't have a happy ending planned and ready to go

9. What is the easiest type?

found family stories are my bread and butter, slice of life, friends just being friends, those kinds of stories

10. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I usually write at home at my desk, since I study online I've got a pretty perfect set up to spend long hours there. If I'm not at home I'm at the library. I use Notion, because it's free, I have personal beef with Word and google docs sucks. It's not technically a writing platform in the sense I use it in but it works fine as one, it also makes it super easy to organise my files and extra notes of fics, on top of my editing and the drafts.

11. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I actually recently overcame my big too nervous to write fic. I am,, an asexual virgin but I also really enjoy reading smut. I've wanted to write some for ages, but on account of not knowing how sex works because I've never had it and also my inability to describe physical sensations I've been weary to give it a go in case it's terrible but I finally wrote some not long ago and published it over on ao3

12. What made you choose your username?

Well Asteria is just my name, and then Argo is a combined DC/Greek Mythology references. Argo comes from the Argonauts of The Golden Fleece myth, but it's also the name of the original supergirls home.

I do not know whose already been tagged or whose already done it so I'm just going to go for it and hope for the best @jamtartandsunshine @kvetchinglyneurotic @jamiesfootball @antitheticaally @its-not-easy-being-green-things

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 1 month

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4, 12, 19, 27 for the fic writer asks!

Yoooooo hey some slay questions! Here we go bois!

4- a story idea you haven’t written yet! So I have a good amount of random ideas just languishing in my notes, and if a creek mood ever strikes me, I have a film school au with them in mind! I think that would be fun lmao

12- a trope you’re really into right now so this is a constant with me and a surprise to literally nobody, but I LOVE a character getting taken care of!!! Wounded, sick, whatever man I just adore the tenderness of that shit, like there’s a reason I’m the Whumpshot Wizard and it’s bc I’m a sucker for patching someone up leading to confessions of feelings, or a partner who is well versed in their partner’s chronic pain and knows what to do, or the soft sweet reassurances as they hold a feverish loved one and remind them that they’re safe, or the protective fierceness of a person desperately trying to get their love to safety and figure out why they just collapsed, the gentle encouragement of urging a barely conscious partner to wake up the rest of the way, the concern of the recovery period, just FUCK dude I’m so soft for that shit!!!

19- the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic dude I’m gonna be so fr a lot of the time I just wing it for even my more involved aus but every once in a while I’ll actually fact check myself, and I went down SUCH a crazy rabbit hole learning the history of the Missoula Smokejumpers and smokejumping in general for And The Lightning Cracks The Sky, also I taught myself a little bit of lotr style elvish for How We Began (and I use that shit in the OJV too lmfao Stan and Kyle are fuckin dorks who whole ass speak elvish to each other)

27- your favorite part of the writing process ok I absolutely LOVE the buildup to the climax, like even more than the climax itself. Like writing the calm before the storm is such an ideal place to put tender moments; I’m gonna reference The Webs In The Rafters, chapter 16 when Butters and Kenny have their sweet moment at the pond like RIGHT before shit hits the fan. A lot of the time my fics start out as a specific scene I see in my head and build off of, and fleshing out character interactions is another one of my favorite parts, like for TWITR example, what is Cartman’s role in the group? How does Kenny react to learning more about the rest of the ranch hands? What is Kyle’s role in the gang? Who is closest to who? That kind of stuff, I love being able to try and convey personalities and relationships through the smallest interactions! Also, my favorite thing about posting on ao3 is just absolutely unhinged authors notes, like I LOVE busting out a new au with a “HELLO MOTHERS AND FUCKERS ITS TIME FOR ANOTHER PCE MULTICHAP!!!” Bc I’m insane and it’s fun plus I love coming up with a Question Of The Day for the end notes and seeing people’s answers! And ofc I love getting comments in general (also leaving comments lmao)

Thank you for asking these dude and apologies for the long winded answers I am Extremely Annoying and enjoy being obnoxious!

#asks #south park #I love these questions and also linking my own bullshit #my shit #fic link

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quotidian-oblivion · 1 year

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For the ask game, 19, 20, and 22?

whumper-dumps ask game

19. Opinion on all hurt no comfort?

20. Opinion on little hurt all comfort?

22. Most controversial whump opinion?

I've answered 19 here so I'll do the other two. Thanks so much for the ask, Tris! Appreciate it ^^

20. Opinion on little hurt all comfort?

Hmm... I'd say it depends. If the little hurt includes something like referring to a major traumatic event like an abusive episode or a torture event or soft things like sickfics, then yes. Y. E. S. I'm all for it. Gimme the feels and the comfort to go along with it. But if it's something like Character A got a bullet graze or had a little wittle panic moment, then... meh. Mid.

I want strong emotions. I read fanfiction for strong emotions. My brains needs to be constantly stimulated by strong emotions in order for me to live through another day without wanting to tear someone to shreds just because they chew a little too loudly. (Side note: I read somewhere that it's because of trauma that your brain is constantly stimulated and stuff, so... yeah idk what to say about that).

But when there's that underline of angst? *Claps hands and tears up, swiveling in my spinny chair* I love it.

If it's done right, then I like it even more than hurt no comfort.

22. Most controversial whump opinion?

I love talking about controversial topics.

To myself.

Or to someone who I know will agree with me.

It's not because I'm prejudiced, it's because I can't handle confrontations. But! I'm going to... try and share something because I did not think there would be controversy amongst the whump community, but I'm not surprised that there is.

Okay, after doing some research... I'm still at a blank.

Though I did come across some interesting notions between whump lovers and non whump lovers.

Some people think it's sick to torture a character with stuff like abuse and rape and everything. (Which just makes me question: It's okay if the torture seems unrealistic like an alien beam blast, but not what humans do every day like hit their kids? But anywayyyy.) Uh, well, there are a lot of reasons people do that. One article which I read on whump (can't believe there are actual articles about this, it's just so normal to me), said that a Tumblr blog said that whump is born out of love for the characters. You can do your own research on that one, cuz it'll take too long to explain.

For me, that's actually true. I love reading hurt tim drake fics because... well, im not completely sure. It's not because I get endorphins while seeing him in pain (except when I'm writing 🤭), it's also that I... like seeing him push through and react to the whump. I like how different authors have different ideas of how he would behave in not-so-ideal situations. I like how there are different ideas on which situations he would find himself in.

But most of all, I like seeing him in situations where he can get out. Where he can escape that situation. Where I cannot. The same goes with writing, I like imagining up whump situations because I can imagine that character also making it out.

There are so many reasons. Some of which are I like seeing Tim get the love and care after the whump sometimes because he deserves it, I like seeing Tim react to his situation with bravery because he's someone who is brave, I like seeing Tim be helpless in situations then have someone help him. It all resonates within me and I like it.

As for situations where I haven't been in, I like seeing him in those situations because I love his character. I love the way he reacts to environments because all the comics and other media are literally about him reacting to situations. Fanfiction is the same thing, except they're different situations with different people who have different ideas.

There's so much difference in the world, and I love seeing it.

The different which I don't like or don't agree with, I click out. It's as simple as that. I click out and either rant about it to myself while pacing my bedroom or write a counter fic and use moments which I didn't like in that fic and recreate it to what I like. But I'm not rude to the author of that idea, because... people are different! Ideas are different! Difference exists!

So, I think on the topic where people think some whump in general is bad and sadistic and gruesome, I think they're different too. They have their reasons, we have ours. Difference exists. And I've grown to live with it. So should you.

That was long, I was expecting some length, but not... this much. I love ranting. I don't get to rant much without being criticized, so this was great because I've never ranted about whump before except to myself. Thank you so much for the ask, Tristi! Enjoy discerning this mess! /lh

#quotidian asks #whump #whumper-dumps ask game #whump ask game #controversial whump #all hurt no comfort #hurt/comfort #little hurt all comfort #ask game

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slice-of-magenta · 2 years

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!!!

Hi!

I got asked this at the same time so clicked in the order in which it was sent - @scintalla thanks for asking this as well! I appreciate you

(thanks <3 for sending this!)

This is not completely in order btw:

1. Night Cuddling

(on ao3): Scira. I should have done a date, but no, this is Scott angst made for Scottuary. It’s a small moment of realization he has for Kira (before her departure in the show.)

2. When Chaos Falls

(on ao3): Gen? Scott, Stiles, Nogitsune. Nogitsune Trauma for Scott (because it is canon that this is his fear aside from the berserker.)

3. Positions

(on ao3): Sciles. Fluffy story about their competition with tickle fights.

4. Sick

(on ao3): Sciles. Pre-bite Scott gets sick and Stiles takes care of him because why not. Visuals are a bit off, but I still love the concept. <3

5. Panic In the Brain

(ao3): Gen. Scott angst. Depression trigger warning - because this stuff hits me hard too. Hurt/comfort with Melissa.

#author self rec #sciles #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #rec #in the sick fic author notes I was actually referring to your answer to the sciles kiss prompt #I was so tempted to link it in there because i loved how you went to extensive detail of not just one type of kiss #but a plentiful amount of them on the ask game list and I was utterly thrilled #scira #thanks for the ask!

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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daddy issues - chapter xi

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Where are you taking me, Ransom?” He just glanced at me, a mischievous smile on his face, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh. I tried to ignore how it made me feel, how his touch just felt right. It always did, but ever since the night we arrived, when I succumbed to my overwhelming need for the man whose baby I was carrying, it was like there was this magnetic pull between the two of us.

The fact that now he felt free to touch me whenever he wanted, with the excuse that he needed to “sell the ruse to my parents” only aggravated my already constant state of arousal. And I knew he noticed it and relished in it. So I was almost half expecting this impromptu night out to start and end in some hotel room he had rented for the night, finally sick of having to keep quiet in respect to the owners of the house we would still be staying in for the next two nights.

Surprise took over my expression when I saw him park in front of a quaint little Italian restaurant that was all too familiar to me. “Ransom…” I questioned, eyebrows raised high. “What are we doing here?” Instead of directly answering me, he just chuckled lightly, getting out of his seat and opening my door before I could even figure out how to unbuckle the seatbelt on his expensive car.

“You didn’t think I asked you to wear the best dress you had packed just for nothing?” I bit my lip to stop a smile from taking over my face, even though I knew he could perfectly read me.

“Well, if this isn’t nothing, what is it?” It was a challenge, I knew he was aware of it. But he opted not to answer me straight away, not to name this night as what it undoubtedly was and give it a weight that could possibly suffocate us both. I appreciated it, and I appreciated even more the fact that he had obviously listened to what I had said that first night we got here and was trying to get what he wanted by giving me what I needed, instead of just forcing the situation to happen.

“Trust me?” He asked once I had successfully gotten out of the car - with his help, of course. Even though my belly wasn’t really enormous, it was definitely there, hindering my ability to do certain movements and this skin-tight dress that barely still fitted me highlighted it just enough to make it pretty clear to anyone who looked at me that I was very obviously pregnant.

“I do,” I answered sincerely, thinking back on everything he’d done for me ever since I gave him the chance to be by my side for this ride. There was no doubt in my mind that he deserved this trust.

His eyes roamed over my body as we walked to the restaurant hand in hand, and once inside, his body enveloped mine, his chest to my back, his hands over my belly.

“You’re smothering me,” I joked, glancing at his warm brown eyes from over my shoulder. He looked far too elegant for a small restaurant in a small town, but that was Ransom Drysdale, and I can’t say that I hated it. “Is this your way of telling me you’re cold or what?”

He snorted, not immediately answering me as the hostess asked us for the information about our reservation, but once we were being guided to our table, he offered, “Maybe I just wanted to scare off that guy who keeps checking you out?”

I sighed, not feeling in the slightest a sense of curiosity to check on who he was referring to. Not only had I caught a glimpse of the guy already - there was just one other couple waiting with us to get seated - but I highly doubted he’d be staring my way.

“With this belly?” I scoffed, shaking my head at the man beside me. “Impossible.” Ransom just stopped and gave me a long, incomprehensible look. We had arrived at our table by then, but he didn’t seem to want to sit any time soon.

“You really have no idea,” he mused, much to my confusion, suddenly leaning over and capturing my lips in a short and sweet kiss that left me flustered. Damn him and his ability to leave me like this so easily.

“No idea of what?” I asked once he had pulled out a chair for me and took a seat by my side, hand immediately falling over my thigh as the waiter approached us with two menus.

I decided not to point out that he technically didn’t need to kiss me. My parents weren’t there, there was no pretense to keep intact. But it was time for me to admit that I wanted his touch just as much as he wanted to touch me.

“Say, sweetheart… You ever heard of a breeding kink?” The term sent a shiver down my spine, but it was undeniably one of arousal. I bit down on my lower lip, hoping he wouldn’t notice what the term did to me, even though I knew it was a futile plan.

“You’re lying,” I immediately denied it, not believing it was actually a thing men had in real life. “There’s no way! I look huge,” I commented, knowing I was exaggerating even before Ransom rolled his eyes at me.

“You most definitely do not. And even if you did, that just makes men even harder for you,” he whispered in my ear, making me clench my thighs together in desire. He’d been fucking me ever since we arrived in this town, and yet I still so desperately needed him, all the time - and I don’t think the pregnancy hormones were the only reason for it.

Well… if what he’s saying it’s true, maybe it is the reason for his desire.

“And you feel that way too?” I asked, wanting to be sure of it. The predatory smirk on his face said it all, but he still answered me.

“Oh, baby… Just thinking about the fact that it’s my baby inside of you, my seed that got you this way has me straining against my pants.” My heartbeat was out of control as he whispered these confessions in my ear, uncaring for the poor waiter who was obviously waiting for us to make a choice for the evening.

“Didn’t take you for a possessive man, Drysdale,” I decided to play it cool, opting to finally open the menu and stare at it instead of the man whose eyes were trying to pull me in. But beside me, he scoffed.

“I wasn’t.” The words weighed heavily in the mood of the evening, but not in a bad way. My fingers were clutching the card in my hands like it was a lifeline, meanwhile, his fingers clutched me, right on the inside of my thigh, palm sprawled over it in a clear sign of ownership - or at least desire.

I didn’t have anything to say. Everything about the moment had me flooding my underwear, and so I inhaled deeply, trying to focus on the letters before me even though I already knew what I was going to order.

The waiter chose to interrupt our tense silence at that second, and I was almost grateful for it. “Do you know what you would like to have for the evening?” My mouth opened to answer, but before I could, Ransom spoke for me.

“We’ll both have the lasagna.” I didn’t close it as he slowly removed the menu from my hands and offered it back to the patient man, who just nodded at us before taking his leave. It wasn’t until he was gone that Ransom looked to the side and witnessed my expression of shock.

“I’m sorry, isn’t the lasagna your favorite?” He frowned, squeezing my thigh a bit tighter. “I can call the waiter back if you want to.” Forcing myself to close my lips, I shook my head emphatically, eyes still staring wide at him.

“It’s not necessary,” I assured him, even if the gesture was a bit much. “That was my order anyway.” And if it wasn’t, there was no way I’d let this go. But as it were, I realized something that warmed me to the core and left me feeling tingly all over.

He had actually prepared all of this. The only way he could know that this was my favorite restaurant, the lasagna my favorite deal, was if he had asked for my parent’s help. And the thought just made something deep inside of me awaken, something I wasn’t quite prepared to admit to myself yet, much less to him.

Thankfully, although his smile denounced that he had at least an inkling as to what was going on through my head, he just expertly shifted the conversation into a different direction, leaning over me to whisper, “Thank you for getting all pretty to go out with me.”

Good. This was good, solid ground I could stand on. I silently thanked him for providing me with this opportunity as I teased, “And here I thought I was always pretty.”

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Oh, darling…” I smirked, leaning over her to nuzzle against her jaw, breathing her perfume in. “You have no idea.” And just like that, she was back to being a flustered little thing. It was adorable, and I would have loved nothing more than to keep her like this for the entire evening, but I knew she would get fessed up with me.

So I changed the subject into an equally interesting one, hoping to get to know her a little bit better than I already did. “So, I was the first guy you ever brought home?” She blinked a few times, clearly not expecting the question, but ended up getting around to it.

“Yeah, well. I never had really serious relationships. No one I thought would be worth the hassle of introducing to my parents.” I tried to hold back my smile at the thought of me being worth that hassle. Of course, I knew most of it was due to the baby. I was going to be the father of her child, it was inevitable her parents would be interested in getting to know me even if they didn’t think we were together.

But I was counting this as a win anyway.

“You know…” She started, and I took a deep breath to prepare myself for what was coming next. I knew she’d try to tease me again. There was just no way she’d let me have the last word - and it was one of the things I liked the most about her. “I didn’t think you could be romantic, but this is pretty close.”

My heart skipped a beat as I took in her words. They weren’t what I expected to hear. They sounded sincere, almost hopeful, and so they brought hope into my heart when I stared back at her, finding her looking around the restaurant seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t a romantic man, I’d never been, but this is what she did to me. She made me want to try. And because of her, I did give a shit.

When her head turned back to me, I don’t know what it was that she saw in my eyes - if it was all of those thoughts that were swirling around my brain and I just couldn’t voice right then. Whatever it was though, it made her wiggle her way closer to me, dipping her face up until she could catch my lips in hers, and I tried not to sigh at how comfortable it felt to have her like this - almost in my lap, warm body glued to mine, lips moving with my own from her own advances.

“Hmm…” I moaned appreciatively, rubbing my nose on her neck as her fingers spread over my thigh, pinky almost reaching my crotch. “Are you trying to tease me, sweetheart?” I whispered, loving the smirk that spread over her lips while she kept her innocent facade. “Because I must tell you, it’s definitely working.”

She giggled then, slightly pushing me away, but all I could do was smile like a dork at how much this looked like the teenage romance I never got to experience. It felt sweet and pure while it kept my dick hard all the same, and it was just perfect.

The waiter brought our food right then, somewhat interrupting the moment, but it still added to it somehow. I didn’t think there was anything that could ruin how I felt.

“So, Ransom…” She tried to start another subject as we began eating. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me about your job, and I got a question for you.”

I nodded, eyes momentarily focused on the lasagna as I waited for her to keep going. “Why don’t you write your own book?” I froze, food mid-way to my mouth as I stared back at the woman by my side, not quite believing what I had heard. “I mean, you’re intelligent and I know you have quite a lot to say. I can only imagine how great a book from you would be, and you definitely got the means to get it published.”

She stopped talking when she noticed my reaction, clearly confused, but then patiently waited for any response I might give, which took me a while. I had to clear my throat, have a drink of water, think to myself on what I could say.

I’d given my grandfather quite a lot of excuses over the years whenever he suggested that I should follow his example and write a book. Back then, my main “reason” was that I was too busy living the playboy lifestyle.

Now that my day-to-day life consisted of reading other people’s works, the question had become a constant companion, living deep inside my brain. Why didn’t I write my own book? Why didn’t I give this a try?

There was only one explanation I could give, and even though it wasn’t the easiest thing to admit, it felt important that I shared it with her.

“I’ve thought about it before…” I confessed, seeing the surprise appear in her eyes, paired with a sweet, excited smile. “I guess I’m just… scared. If I never try, I can never fail, you know?” I gave her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for my glass of water again. I’d ordered it so she wouldn’t feel alone since she couldn’t drink wine, but boy did I miss alcohol at that second.

That was, until her hand got back over my thigh, squeezing it lightly. “I understand, honey.” The pet name made me melt, uneasy feeling suddenly disappearing altogether. “It’s hard to put yourself out there.” Wide-eyed, I couldn’t believe how such a simple sentence had made me feel. It was then that I realized how no one had truly understood me before.

And she did. She did because she cared, she had actively listened, had given me chance after chance of proving myself even when I showed her the worst of me.

Chest filled with warmth, I leaned down to press a quick peck on her lips, going back to my delicious lasagna now that the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability was gone.

“This tastes so good,” I acknowledged it, reaching out to squeeze her thigh as If thanking her for having this dish as her favorite. There was a lot more I had to thank her for, though. “Still... not as good as you.”

My wink had her eyes rolling, but the sweet smile on her lips made it worth it. She knew me enough by now to know that my mind was always in the gutter. I just had to show her it was all because of her and only her.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writing #ransom drysdale fics

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

Text

The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels’ body!”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun.

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 5k+

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fourth-quartet · 2 years

Note

For the Happy Fic Writer Ask Game: 1-14 *evil laughter* I wanna know everything

I saw the notif for this last night as I was going to bed and just sighed.

1. What part of the writing process is the most enjoyable?

Coming up with ideas, or when characters seem to have ideas or their own and I just end up along for the ride.

2. Talk about a favorite comment you received.

This comment deadass made me laugh, because I had just been messaging with friends about the exact thing they said.

3. Have you received any bookmark notes? Which is your favorite and why?

Any bookmark notes that aren't ratings genuinely make me so happy. I do check them every so often and I love seeing all of them.

4. Which comment has had the most impact on your writing?

Anytime anyone comments on the representation in my fics. I, as a disabled trans person, very rarely see portrayals of either of those identities (or those identities portrayed well) by anyone outside of those communities and anytime someone comments about it, it makes me want to keep writing.

On the spite side? Any comment that's lowkey shitty fuels me to write out of spite.

5. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Literally anyone ever tbh. I get excited anytime I recognize usernames.

6. Describe what you do and your feelings after posting a chapter. (For example: When do you usually post a fic/chapter update? How do you celebrate a posting? Are you the type to refresh constantly?, etc.)

Okay so. I usually post either right before I go to bed or before I go into a class (because that's usually when I finish writing and giving it a cursory glance over), and it means it's harder for me to check constantly or refresh. I'm subscribed to myself so I wait until I get the email saying I've posted and then I don't pay attention until I get emails about comments.

7. What do you love most about being a fic writer for your fandom?

Where to start? There's something that I love about the different ways Yohan is interpreted and portrayed between people and I love it so much. The way that people can mostly have civil conversations about the show and the meta is awesome in general. There's always food, so to speak.

8. Talk about any friends/connections you've made as a fic writer.

This Tumblr alone is full of connections. I made it when I got sick of the environment on Twitter after 3-4 years off of Tumblr and literally everyone here is so cool.

9. What inspired you to write your first fic?

I answered this one in a previous post

10. Why do you continue writing fics?

My brain doesn't know when to shut up.

11. Who is your favorite character(s) to write about and why?

So while I tend to write Yohan the most, all of the time, I actually really really love writing about Sunah, Jinjoo, and K more. I don't do it as much because I feel like it's harder to get a good solid grasp on their voices but, man, when I get it, it's so much fun.

12. What is your favorite theme/subject matter/trope/ship to write about? Why?

Mental health, trauma, and healing.

13. Describe your writing style. If you were to participate in an anonymous fic writers guessing game (like The Masked Author), what writing habits do you have that would be a dead giveaway that it's you?

Run on sentences? Spot on dialogue? An unhealthy amount of literature and biblical references? Calling Yohan soft?

14. Share a snippet.

#took answers #here you go sass #friend tag!!#sass tag #fic stuffs

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imdreaminadream · 3 years

Text

The results pt 2 ~ what about it makes you cringe?” Category 3

( - prologue. - part 1 - category 1 - category 2 )

Okay so this is the results to the question in the quiz, What about it makes you cringe. In reference to the questionnaires core subject about smut fanfics.

Also quick psa there will be a part for the results for the other question - “In kpop fics, Korean words i.e. jagiya, seem to be a no no, would you like to elaborate why?”

Now note these particular results are going to be split into 3 posts because I decided to split the results into 3 categories. 1 - Writing Aspects. 2 - Personal Preferences. 3 - Genuine Problems. >This post is category 3<

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTIONS OF - rape, minors engaging in sex, child pornography, childhood trauma, unsafe bdsm/kinky sex, misogyny?, toxic masculinity? anything else that needs to be tagged message me so I can add them.

DISCLAIMER BELOW. (please read that before continuing)

This is going to be a long post. The responses were very enlightening but please don’t take this as an attack. Consider this more as constructive cheat sheet to good smut writing or just ignore it if you don’t agree with it. Some of this did a bit deep apricate trigger warnings will be put on the appropriate posts but I’m not sorry it got deep fics can also affect real life as much as we wish it were something that didn’t mix in with real life, it does. I’m no official like sex guru or big-time writer, or what ever BUT I did add little advice underneath each answer, which are just a reflection of the people’s answers. Again if you don’t like the sounds of this don’t take it personal and click off.

Genuine problems

Rape territory - There was a common theme of people commenting about what is essentially edging into rape territory. This was talked about with both sexes, where one expresses, they’re not in the mood but the other just continues to make advances on them until they end up having sex. Everyone who spoke about it mentioned it comes across as coercive or forceful (which would be dubious consent, but I personally know how no one tags it as that because they don’t realize.) something that makes them immediately stop reading and knocks an author’s credit in their eyes. When a character is crying as though they’re not enjoying it, but the sex doesn’t stop and there is not safe word that is used.

No advice for this just use common sense.

Lack of tags which indicate trigger/content warnings - This only came up a handful of times but considering its importance I added it in here to talk about. The comments about it were straight forward as is the topic. Some authors aren’t tagging their work appropriately and it’s actually quite dangerous. You tag your work for a reason to let people know what is involved in it before they read, tagging everything is crucial. If something isn’t tagged you risk the reader, at the very least, the reading but then feeling discontent because it had something in they don’t like to read. Then at the worst you risk people’s mental health, you risk them having panic attacks, anxiety attacks because their trigger was in your fic but they didn’t know because it wasn’t tagged for them to see and know not to read because it could trigger them.

Advice for this is to bold things which you know for sure are sensitive topics, and make sure to tag everything in your damn fucking tag section. You risk people having panic attacks when you don’t tag your work right and they read your work only to find out it has their trigger included in it being blindsided because after reading your shitty tags they didn’t know but you put it in there. Also please don’t just tag smut, tag everything included in that smut because something works are tagged smut and then next thing you know person b is being choked, clothes cut by a knife, restrained with rope, told they’re a slut/whore.

They’re a minor - This also only came up a handful of times, not because people don’t care but probably because they don’t commonly come across it enough however this is incredibly important topic even outside of what about smut makes you cringe. This shouldn’t be a problem, as in it shouldn’t be happening as the people who commented, me and all of you know. They’re a minor, under 18, they’re technically still considered child in the law’s eyes anything sexual about them, like writing smut about them would be considered child pornography. “Things that persons under 18 are prohibited from doing - being depicted in pornographic materials.” No one even cares about “but I’m the same age as them uwu.” It still doesn’t make it right so don’t try and use excuses. Also, the minute a person turns 18 if your first thought is oh, I can write smut about them or request someone to write it for me please just leave that’s like preying on them as though you counted down till they were 18 and now the only value you see in them is for sex.

Mine and everyone else’s advice DON’T FUCKING DO IT.

Also, to note I don’t know what the official rules are for age swapping so like writing an adult person as a minor and depicting them in smut materials, to cope with your trauma, would anyone be open to talking to me about it, like educating me? There has just been this sudden wave more fics being, it’s okay to write adult that I made a child in my fic engaging in sexual content because it helps me cope with my trauma. It just seems everyone’s started saying that and I don’t know how many are being genuine or using it as an excuse or gone with the flow treated it like a trend. Not to be rude just genuinely how legit is this? How many people who write it have genuinely experienced that trauma? P.s if you have experienced that trauma, I am genuinely so sorry and know I am not disrespecting or invalidating your trauma I promise.

Female Characters/misogyny? - Now what this means is everyone expressed how they hate the constant portrayal that it only takes seconds for a female to reach an orgasm and she already wet to go like some kind of tap. They also highlighted a big problem with constantly painting the female as this innocent, dainty, dumb, naïve, shy, small, little girl. Women have brains too; women can give as good as they get and aren’t these shy naïve little playthings. All women have different personalities, the stereotypes about women in fics I’ve seen through the answers, and myself in fics, to my questionnaire is upsetting everyone. And you can see why, is it not bad enough we are subjected to misogyny and stereotyped in real life but now we have to see it in fics too. It genuinely does make people stop reading, it makes them cringe as the answers have suggested. One person mentioned this in their response, and I feel it should also be included, “y/n is absolutely okay with everything being done to her.” This isn’t something we should ever hear. This category feels like the right category to mention it so just consider their words, consider why that makes them cringe at smut writing that includes that.

To everyone the advice is a no brainer when you look at the responses. Make sure that the female character is actually getting turned on like into the mood before even thinking about mentioning that she is wet. And consider that a lot of statistics and personal experiences of other women stating it’s not all that easy to orgasm during sex, and not typical for her to come before the male, so make it sound like it’s worth the female characters while not that they do it for 3 minutes and suddenly she is coming.

Please also STOP with the constant bullshit of stereotyping of women as exampled above. If you like to feel small or submissive or whatever in the bedroom and you express that in your fics I get you but that does not mean you have to portray the female character as dumb, naïve, small, weak like for the love of god spice it up a bit, make her powerful, clever, with personality etc.… being in charge of her own body, knowing about her body, and what she wants and how to get it.

Btw no one is saying it’s not okay to be shy and that before you come in here like “why are you shaming shy, or small girls or dd/lg kink,” it’s not that I can assure you. We’re talking about the stereotype of it that is used to make the women seem more pliable for the man to control essentially not the genuine personalities/kinks people have.

Very passive sub female reader and overly dom male - Now many people spoke how an over macho dom male, and a passive - made out like they’re dumb, submissive female is a dynamic that is making them cringe now. It’s not a dynamic they care for anymore, and I agree with them especially considering the issues it brings about. “ Whenever the female reader is extremely passive and shy/flustered whereas the idol/character is extremely assertive/condescending/dominating/leading everything in comparison.” There is a personal preference to this yes# people acknowledged this, however when talking about this dynamic they further explained the issues with it. Overly passive female has already been touched on but to reiterate the replies insinuated they’re sick of seeing women in fics treated how they are in real life essentially – like some dumb little girl. One person said, “I like when the girl can give as good as she gets, though that’s just my preference.” So, like what has been discussed before this portrayal of females it absolute bullshit and needs to fucking stop being such a constant portrayal. (mind break is different so don’t start)

Then for the male side of things it’s enforcing the stereotype men are macho an alpha male, they don’t have feelings they just think with their dick and have all grr I’m super toxically manly do you ever lift bro, I’m so strong, I get all the bitches, fuck all the girls, the have control over the passive female and not in a consenting way, in an entitled way. Which no, they can have feelings, they can be softer more feminine all whilst still identifying as a man. They can be submissive just as much as a anyone else, they can be a switch or just a dom that isn’t this macho, macho, man. They can be needy, loving, caring, in touch with themselves, their feelings and everything the female character is made out to be, apart from dumb, naïve and weak of course, yano all those negative things any gender and non-gender people want to be associated with. If the guy wants to get railed by the female and be the sub in the dynamic of male x female, then fair enough let it happen there isn’t nothing wrong with it.

All in all, it’s okay for males to be more feminine than masculine and females more masculine than feminine. It’s okay to portray that in fics genuinely. I wouldn’t say I have any advice for this other than the obvious no more macho man and passive females.

Use of Korean words. - If you’re not a Korean person don’t think you’re in the right to argue about this. The Korean people have spoken up and you will listen and respect them. Know this is an important topic, however there will be a separate post for this, so I’ll keep this bit short to then expand on more in the separate post. Just wanted to make you the reader aware that this is an issue. It’s not okay to be treating noona, unnie and oppa like a kink if you are not Korean, or have Korean heritage. The people who are Korean so kindly explained, it was a normal word for them like just another part of their culture until bad egg kpop fans got their hands on it and they have now sexualized it to the point where some Korean people do not feel comfortable to even use it without thinking of the sexual connotation it has now been given.

Now like I said I will talk further about that and more, to do with the use of Korean words in fics, in another post, I don’t already have that post drafted so it might take a while to get out and post. However in that time I’m gladly open to hearing more people who are Korean and have Korean heritage, views on this. Or if you too have experience with a word from your language having been taken from being an innocent word to now having a sexual connotation as well because of people not from your country/culture having given it that sexual meaning. It could be helpful to further emphasis the point about the Korean words but also show overall no matter the language/country that it’s making the people of that country/culture uncomfortable.

Also I hope it doesn’t come across like I’m trying to speak over Koreans. If anything i want to be helpful more than a hinderance. This was something that was spoken about on the questionnaire so I’m just writing what the Korean people have expressed about it in the questionnaire. I want to be able to give their voices from the questionnaire a platform and shed light on this situation, with them.

Also can I ask if gender is a factor in this as well? I’ve seen on tiktok where some Korean guys like being called oppa but I’m not sure if that's in a respectful light or a sexual light, if they were being sarcastic for the Korea-boos or? but i have never seen women say they like being called noona in a way that comes across as a turn on? So can anyone comment on that? send me anons pls.

Too much degradation - Of course everyone who has mentioned this has said it is quite a personal preference thing, the acknowledge that it’s a kink not for everyone. Although on the flip side them relentlessly mentioning it give the feel that it’s becoming more of a problem and less of it’s okay it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. You see they exampled “bitch, slut, whore.” It’s so commonly used, and they even said how they’re finding it not tagged majority of the time, so seeing that surprisingly in the fics constantly it makes them cringe but it’s not a type of thing one can get over it’s apparent it’s becoming a slight problem. It begs the question how much degradation is too much, why is it constantly being used in fics? Does everyone love labeling the female y/n a bitch, whore, slut? Why is the male y/n never called a slut as much as female y/n? Do females have more of a degradation kink than men?

I can’t think of any advice to give based on the feedback, apart from obviously add it to your tags that there is a lot of degradation but it there is anything anyone else wants to add on this topic feel free to re-blog with your take or send me anons.

Describing features on a y/n fic - A few people have mentioned this, and I categorized it as a problem because well it is because not only does it make them cringe in smut fics but also in normal fics and poc feel oppressed in yet another way. When it’s written as y/n it’s supposed to allow the reader to insert themselves into the fic to imagine themselves in there, yet it’s not always done like that. As one of the responses said, it seems authors like that tend to project themselves or their ideal selves onto y/n physical feature wise. More often than not as the responses have indicated y/n is portrayed as cis female, white, blonde, blue eyes, other physical traits such as breast size, dick size body type, height and hair length are portrayed too, which pulls the readers out of imagining because they’re being told they have features they don’t. It’s especially bad for poc because their race never gets portrayed in fics, so it gives the message white race is the most favorable and we already know how racist the world is no need to bring it into fics either unknowingly or purposely.

Moral of the story, stop racism, end it. Go educate yourself.

Moral of the story, in regard to fics, well don’t describe y/n thoroughly. Instead leave it as vague as possible, I mean it’s not even needed to know what eye colour y/n has when they’re in the middle of getting railed.

Quick intermission to just say make sure you tag what gender and pronouns y/n has for your fic, so people are fully aware what y/n they’re getting in this fic.

Nor do we need to know what skin colour they have, it can easily be mentioned that a character is touching y/n’s body without saying they have milky skin indicating they’re white. It is very possible to not give y/n a race. Also, height, keep height out of it don’t describe it because not everyone is 5’2. (hello yes, I’m 5’10 so imagine me reading character a of height 5’8 towering over me, I mean maybe if they wear heels yes but otherwise no.) Similarly, don’t ever describe body types, you can say an outfit flatters a person’s figure without describing it, people can have sex without their body being specifically described i.e., slim figure, toned shapely legs. Please understand that by not describing y/n you’re helping to contribute to racism, and these wacky beauty standards that are already being forced onto us in the real world never mind the fictional world.

Lack of safe word - Following on from kinks not being portrayed correctly there is the issue of lack of safe word. Now this is something that again didn’t come up quite a lot but that doesn’t mean it’s not an issue. Some are writing fics where one of the people involved, are being railed to high hell and it’s kinky as fuck or you’re writing a BDSM specific fic. Which is okay we are not judging or shaming but it’s concerning how with all this type of sex being had there is no even slight mention of the pairing having a safe word which is has the name would imply really important. It is there to keep the people participating in this kinky sex safe, without that it’s really harmful. Now if you think oh but writing in the discussion of safe words is really unsexy, especially when I’m just trying to make the characters fuck really kinky, then please go educate yourself. Safe words are incredibly sexy when you know it means you get to have bomb ass kinky sex but know that you can also have boundaries that should and will be respected, and a word or system i.e. traffic light system, to pause or stop when ever you need to in order to keep the kinky sexy safe.

The obvious advice is to incorporate consent and knowledge of safe word in your fic. It can be as simple as writing that the characters stop a minute for person a saying to person b you know your safe word. And then writing a small mini paragraph of person b feeling even more in love and/or turned on because their boundaries are being respected. Then you just carry on with writing the smut. You can imply easily that they have a safe word, that it’s been discussed, therefore they’re gong to be safe, respected and made to feel good.

Also, I know there are some people out there who are, a bit unsure on writing a fic in which one person uses their safe word. This is your friendly supportive message to just do it, don’t be afraid of what others think, do it for you it’s something great to write. There are many different ways you can go with it, so you do it if you want to 😊.

Honorable mentions of things that make the people cringe.

(Not a problem just as we are at the end of this category I figured I’d put honorable mentions. disclaimer again, these are other people’s comments from the questionnaire. You are entitled not to agree with them however do not attack me as some have been doing.)

fetishize people’s gender or race/ethnicity

uneducated use of other cultures to make it look authentic

Use of the word plum when they mean plump. One’s a fruit/colour, the other means having a full rounded shape.

PICK ME Y/N (we all know the type)

Stereotypes of all kinds. Of people, phrases, troupes etc.….

Written in a way it sounds monotone. i.e., “He did this, he did that, I did this.”

When all y/n does during a smut scene is whine. There are other synonyms people.

infantilization of y/n. stop making me feel like the person who the fic is about, is a nonce.

y/n is constantly oh so innocent. Like they can be a virgin don’t get it wrong. BUT we all know 9 times out of 10 y/n reads fanfic so they ain’t innocent.·

no refractory period.

try hard humour in the middle of smut.

terrible euphemisms

proper unrealistic dick sizes

adding in smut into a plot where it doesn’t fit

try hard

more to come potentially?

END OF CATERGORY 3

(Feel free to discuss in comments, in my messages or send anons or anything like that if you want.)

@nctsworld @lauraneuuh @jooniyah

Tag list:

@ceoofxiaojun @lovemayble @myelle-n

(@smutwritingpolice) (@smutwhy)

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 3 years

Text

I’ve been tagged by @klaineharmony and @wordshakerofgallifrey in one version of this and b @radioactivepigeons in another so I combined the 2 (there was one question difference lmao).

How many works do you have on Ao3?

146 (and like many who have done this before me, a couple are drabble collections and such)

What's your total Ao3 word count?

530,111 words which... wow.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh dear GOD if I listed each individual comic series we’d be here all day. We’re gonna go with the five I know for sure off the top of my head w/ the 3 big subcategories for comics.

DCU

> Batman comics

> Teen Titans/Titans comics

> Young Justice cartoon

Newsies

Les Mis

Percy Jackson

Harry Potter

What are your top five fics by kudos?

All of these are older and Batfandom so I’m not even remotely surprised by this.

Family Gatherings Dick wakes up to a text from Bruce asking that the whole family meet at the Manor that night, causing him to stress out all day.

No Judgement Damian crashes at Jason's apartment and has to explain to Jason why.

Nursing a Sick Bird Tim loses contact with his family when he gets sick for a week, causing Dick to come and check in on him.

Bat Kid Jam Sessions All of Bruce's kids play an instrument which gives Dick Grayson and Jason Todd an idea.

Annual Wayne Enterprises Take Your Kid to Work Day Bruce has Tim, Damian, and Dick all coming to WE for the day and he's a bit nervous over what kind of mess they might make.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Though I see now there’s a bunch sitting there that I haven’t yet. I’ll get to them when I’ve got more spoons. I love interacting with people and knowing what they like about my stories and writing. It makes me really really happy.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t really write angst? I don’t think I write angst. I write a lot of ennui. So much ennui. And bittersweet endings. Donna Troy and the Outlaws may be the closest to an angsty ending cause they only get one resurrection out of a possible two? But again, it’s more bittersweet than anything.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

DO I EVER. Yes. Yes I write crossovers. Mainly modern au newsies/les mis cause it just makes sense. The craziest one has to be from my main newsies/les mis series A crooked politician? Yeah but that ain't news no more where I dropped so many references in media, networking, and other things you don't learn in a lecture to Hairspray and Hamilton characters that I wrote the “shit show” of the four musicals being combined in a modern au that I alluded to (and I think I was encouraged if I remember correctly) and it’s called Cautionary Tale.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not so much hate as someone doing what was essentially a “well, actually” on the politics in one of my Crooked Politician fics. The moral of the story is character views and emotions and blatant optimism do not directly reflect that of the author and I did study political science and know my stuff. OH! And then there’s my crowning glory of a DIFFERENT Crooked Politician fic being quoted out of context in a New York Times article. That isn’t really hate but it was certainly something.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Haha. No.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I welcome translations and podfics!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! @wordshakerofgallifrey and I cowrote Costs of Civil Disobedience as part of her Piano Man au and by that I mean were LITERALLY typing in the same doc at the same time. It was wild and amazing. From Across the Bar isn’t cowritten but is my companion to her fic Play Me A Memory. @radioactivepigeons were working on a leverage!newsies au but then we both got busy.

What's your all time favorite ship?

I? Don’t think I have one? Uh... Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing? Parker/Hardison/Eliot from Leverage are the ultimate ot3? I care very little about ships. If I like it, I like it. If it squicks me, it squicks me. If I don’t care, I don’t care. Sorry?

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oh the Batfam Ghostbusters au. The concept is still solid but I just don’t have the motivation or know where I would go with what stands. If anything I’d strip it for parts and write it new.

What are your writing strengths?

I have been told my descriptions are really strong but personally I think that my character voices/dialogue is. Also my ability to write teenaged ennui. Any ennui. It’s a mood.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar! I do weird shit with my sentence breaks and make run ons and just absolutely butcher punctuation. And balancing characters in ensembles. That’s hard.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m going to quote @radioactivepigeons here cause I agree with it wholeheartedly and she puts it better than I possibly can rn: “I think there needs to be a narrative purpose. Like, is it building dramatic irony? Is someone being purposefully excluded from the conversation? Is there a characterization where the linguistic difference matters?“ If the answer is no then just note it’s being said in the other language.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Actually physically wrote a story out? Batman. I wrote a “patrol report” as Batgirl to my friend as though she were Robin in middle school as part of a christmas present.

What's your favourite fic you've ever written?

Oh this is hard. Uh glitter and gold is like my love of DC characters made manifest and is absurdly long but like there’s certainly scenes I like more than others. Three Card Draw might be my favorite? I love the vibes and the little world I made and using it to work out my own thoughts about gods and magic as a stepping stone for my original stuff.

Since I think literally everyone I know in the newsies fandom has been tagged in this at some point I’m going to kick it towards the dc folks. Absolutely no pressure to do this. @audreycritter @oh-mother-of-darkness @sohotthateveryonedied @preciousthingsareprecious @whore4batfam

#personal #long post #own writing #my fic

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freyfall · 4 years

Note

Hey sorry to bother, but i don't thing I've really seen any sexism in the fandom? I might have just missed it, but would you be willing to elaborate on it a bit? You don't have to if you don't wanna

CHOKES

I’ll elaborate under a cut because a lot of the sexism I see is rooted in the ns/fw side of the fandom. I’ll be talking explicitly so don’t click if you’re not prepared for a conversation about sex and ectoplasmic genital shit. Also... it’s long.

God, where do I even start? This post covers a lot of the base issues with the fandom, though most of what OP said had to do with queerphobia. The issue with writers and magic genitalia in the fandom boils down to the fact that so often - so often - I click on a fic to read and heteronormativity slaps me in the face. One dominant (male-identifying) partner with male genitalia, one submissive (male-identifying) partner with female genitalia. And okay, I get it, some couples are like that. It’s not bad to write something like that as long as it doesn’t rely on sexism or queerphobia to explain away the choices. But then it’s... every fic. Every. Fic. I click on.

Actually, I’ll give you some numbers! I’m going to look at the UTMV kinktober fics I’m keeping up with and see what kind of ratios there are. I won’t name them out of politeness, but here we go. Out of 4 Kinktober 2020 series on A03 with, so far, 23 or 24 chapters each, here’s how the gender and sex of the characters play out:

In terms of biological sex, the majority were male/female* with two partners, making up almost half of the fics read (42 out of 94). Out of said fics, 35 had a dominant** male and submissive female dynamic, 4 had a dominant female and submissive male dynamic, and 3 were unclear or there was no such dynamic. Only one out of the 42 fics had the female character identify as a woman. (Furthermore, she was genderbent.)

The runner-up was the ‘other’ category, which encompassed the following: no genitals present, only one set of genitals present, odd genitalia (such as tentacles), or unspecified. This category made up 26 out of the 94 fics. Of the 26, 20 of them fell into the ‘one set of genitals’ category, with 14 male and 6 female. The male fics were split evenly between dominant and submissive males, and the females were all written as submissive.

None of the other categories were nearly as popular, with the next one down the line only having 9 fics out of the 94. This category was male/male with two partners. The next one, male/male/female with three partners, had 8. Of the 8 fics, all of them had dominant male and submissive female dynamics.

The female/female with two partners category only had 3. Only one of the three fics portrayed a lesbian relationship where both characters identified as women.

The other categories were as follows: m/m/m with three partners, m/m/m/f with four partners, m/m/m/m with four partners, m/m/f/f with four partners, m/m/m/m/f with five partners, and m/m/m/f/f with five partners. These categories only had 1 fic each. Each and every fic with a female partner had the female partners playing submissive roles.

It’s important to note that out of the entire roster of fics, there were 3 women. One of them was a genderbent character in a m/f fic, and the other two were in a lesbian f/f fic. Why the lack of women? Why constantly portray those with female genitals as men?

Going back to the post I linked at the very beginning, I do want to cover my bases - I understand that male characters with biologically female genitals and sex characteristics can be a hugely needed source of rep for transgender people, especially those who are transmasculine. As a transmasculine person myself, it’s important to me that male characters with female bodies exist. Having a casual environment where men can have whatever genitals they want is, in theory, rather progressive. However, three things:

Never in all my time in this fandom have I ever seen one of these characters stated explicitly as transgender. None of the fics in the study above did, either.

In the UTMV, when writing skeletons with magical genitals, having male or female genitalia is seen as a choice. It erases the need for transgender characters. It erases transgender narratives that deal with transition, discomfort, coming out, and dysphoria. If you can pick whatever kind of body you want, why would there be a need for being trans? There’s no easy way to determine a ‘male’ or ‘female’ skeleton, erasing the concept of gender assigned at birth and erasing the struggles that trans people may face.

None of the characters have bodies that might align more closely with transgender folks who medically transition. No top surgery scars, no bottom growth. No breast tissue growth on male bodies, nothing. Of course, why would that exist in the first place? Magic erases the need to portray bodies with quote-on-quote ‘imperfections.’ None of the bodies portrayed even step a toe out of the cisgender box - such as perhaps portraying female genitals with a flat chest or male genitals with breasts. None of that was found in the study, and I don’t recall fics like that outside of the study, either.

So clearly, most if not all authors are not attempting to portray any sort of transgender character when writing them this way - which begs the question, why write men with female bodies?

While I was taking these statistics, I had a conversation with my partner in which they said something that applies here:

“[Every AU character] being Sans is a problem on its own, but when you have the power to make whatever character a woman, how you approach that says a lot. What people do is that they give a male character female parts and it’s only for sexual purposes. So like, the entire existence of [the female body] in the UTMV serves only for sex and that’s just kind of not good.”

Keeping this quote in mind, the short answer to the question I posed above is this: sexism. In this fandom, the female body, femininity, and being a woman in and of itself is objectified, hyper-sexualized, and exoticized... in that order, respectively. I’m not just using these as buzzwords, I promise you.

The female body is objectified. The same as the quote above, female bodies aren’t seen as something that someone will just have in a non-sexual context. After reading 94 smutfics, their treatment of the female body tends to start looking the same. The female body is for sex. That’s it. Giving or showing a character with breasts, even clothed, is seen as the display of a sexual object, even though breasts are visible on (cis) women in everyday scenarios. In sexual scenarios, the female body is never portrayed realistically, either. Female arousal and preparing the female body for sex - compared to its counterpart, the male body - is wildly unrealistic. Yes, this is porn, and there’s bound to be realism issues, but in comparison, female sexuality is much more unrealistic.

Femininity is sexualized. Characters act feminine for sexual appeal... and only for sexual appeal. Because a character acts feminine, they’re more sexually appealing to their partner. Feminine clothing, such as dresses or skirts, are seen as sexual.

Being a woman, in and of itself, is exoticized. This isn’t even a staunchly NSFW issue. I’ve been asked if my male characters, explicitly stated to be bisexual, would have sex with a woman. My partner has received asks about ‘what would happen if (insert male character here) met a woman.’ Genderbends of male characters into female characters are seen as cringy, childish, or fanservicey by default. Women aren’t treated as a normal occurrence. When genderbends do happen and people like them, it’s often in a sexual way. “She’s so hot/sexy.” “Step on me, queen.”

It most likely doesn’t help that all of the popular AU characters in the fandom are men. It creates an environment where women are scarce and hardly represented, leading to unnatural assumptions about them.

I’m not sure how to close this off, so... TLDR; women are normal people. Stop exoticizing them. Stop objectifying the female body. Don’t use trans/queer characters as a scapegoat for your sexism.

Sincerely, a bigender lesbian who’s sick and tired of all this.

*‘Male’ and ‘female’ are used to refer to biological sex. When I talk about gender, I will say men and women.

**When I say dominant, I mean ‘in control’ of the sexual situation. This was determined by considering factors such as written personality, physical position, and how they behaved. Vice versa for submissive. I don’t intend to use these terms as an equivalent to what they mean in BDSM language, though several of the fics attempted to or did portray BDSM relationships. I also do not mean these terms to be equivalent to ‘top’ or ‘bottom’.

#utmv #sexism cw #important #fandom talk

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tigerdrop · 3 years

Note

i have a lot of trouble writing benrey in my fics— how did you experiment with his characterization until you were satisfied with it, and what other benny interpretations do u enjoy from other fic writers? i love the way you write him, his dialogue feels so authentic and believable.

AW thank u......it always makes my day to hear something nice about the way i characterize ppl......there were a lot of things i did to try to nail how he talks and thinks. thank u for asking this b/c i have a Lot to say about this subject

the first thing is, obv, watching the series. i have to include this one b/c i feel like quite a few ppl in this fandom.....like.....havent. there is a certain way of characterizing him as an Epic Mischievous Gamer that is, uhhh, very much a fanon thing that ppl see on tumblr and imitate and flanderize all to hell. but, like, im an obsessive little weirdo who will rewatch things over and over again to take notes on characters’ behavior and dialogue and i really gotta recommend just sitting back and listening to how benrey talks.

hes not dropping gamer references constantly. hes not making every single sentence out of his mouth some obnoxious quip. hes slow on the uptake and drops conversations entirely if he doesnt care about them. he has never once said “cringe” before and whenever i see a fic that has him doing it multiple times i feel minutes shaved off of my lifespan. the #1 tip i can give here is to not have benrey talking in fucking 2010s gamer lingo every time he opens his mouth. please

(i feel partially responsible for the spread of this kind of characterization. my first 2 fics have him doing stuff like that every once in awhile. sometimes i debate going back and changing them, but like, benrey saying “poggers” one time aside, i think they hold up pretty good. so i havent. something something historical accuracy)

the more i wrote about him, the more i tried digging into the aspects of his character that i found the most appealing. some people are really into his polite side. i am really into his bullying side. so i would watch the bits where benrey really has his “gordon bullying” mode cranked up to 11 and make note of how he acts, how he talks. trying to replicate it. “benrey saying epic random shit to piss gordon off” is much less his vibe than, like, demeaning gordon, and i feel like the bathroom skit is the ultimate manifestation of this. it is genuinely my favorite bit in the whole series b/c its so ideally representative of their weird-ass dynamic. this fuckin high school bullying LARP in the middle of a public restroom. god in heaven

the less you lean on the crutches of “gamer lingo” and “wacky non-sequitur”, the more it forces you to think about how he behaves. what motivates him. and generally, like, he operates on his own wavelength. he doesnt fully understand everything thats going on around him and selectively chooses what he tunes into. and, most importantly, he just wants to play games, man. benrey likes goofing off with the science crew and playing mind games with gordon. he fails to understand the gravity of his actions a lot of the time b/c hes not human, and hes not operating under the same social guidelines.

(this is the part where people like to speculate exactly what kind of non-human he is, and i think this can be helpful for setting up his motivations! me, personally, i am of the opinion that hes just a video game guy made real. kind of like a live-action cartoon character. so hes operating on video game logic a lot of the time, and doesnt grasp that consequences for actions are different for normal people who cant noclip or respawn. a kind of lack of empathy that manifests in him being capricious, indifferent, detached......purely oriented around “getting his job done” and “chilling” and, naturally, “fucking with gordon freeman“.)

ultimately it boils down to distilling just what i like out of their interactions and trying to Manifest it repeatedly. i go crazy about their actual canon interactions and i want to write things that hit the notes i like: two guys who are mutually kind of obsessed with one another, for better or worse, and engage in a lot of play fighting (and, you know, genuine fighting, too) as a sublimation of it. best frenemies, if you will.

i think that a lot of the problems people have in writing benrey is that they kinda just project whatever attributes they want in a lover onto him. like, man, i like cute shit as much as the next guy, but do you really think that the dude who bullies gordon freeman while hes having a panic attack is gonna tenderly stroke gordons hair and wipe his tears and tell him that everythings gonna be okay? no, dude. even when benrey expresses any kind of concern, he does it in a way that communicates that he doesnt understand the gravity of whats going on and he doesnt “get” why gordons lying on the ground yelling, or why gordons howling in pain after getting his arm cut off. he is not an empathetic guy. hes actually kind of a creep!!! a lil freakjob! the weirdness and the lack of humanity are what make him hot!!!!

and this is what makes it own so hard on the rare occasions he does show empathy! its the same reason why its so cute when gordon stops bitching for 0.5 seconds and tries to be nice! theyre earned moments, not character defaults. and cutesy/lovey-dovey shit with these two is definitely doable, but i would love to see more of it take into account the fact that these are two dudes who fucking suck and who especially suck at being emotionally open with each other.

as far as characterizations that i really like........okay. full disclosure. the biggest reason ive been losing my shit over the catmaid freemind fic is b/c the author is one of the few people who really taps in to what i like about benrey, and what i like about his relationship with gordon. hes teasing. he likes to use his perceived authority to bully people. hes weirdly protective of gordon. but hes also just, like, a chill dude who wants to play video games. and he legit likes gordon and expresses affection for him in some of the most in-character ways ive ever seen

like. deliberately spilling milk on the couch and flatly going like “oops.” b/c he wants gordon to sleep in his room......playing nurse by doing fuck-all apart from giving gordon powerade while hes sick and keeping the volume on his video games low......kicking barmey under the table for making fun of gordon being dogboyed.......it is all exceptionally cute shit and its delightfully in-character. i feel so bad for the author b/c im a frenrey head and i am primarily reading it for those two. but god they do it so well.......im hooked. im obsessed

thank u again for asking this and for the lovely compliment ^q^ i hope this answered your question......i have spent entirely too much of my life thinking about my favorite half life funny guy

#asky #careposting

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televisionboy · 4 years

Note

Please could you do Lieb and Guarnere fighting in Currahee except it’s over you?? And if you don’t add me to your tag list I might die 😅

Authors note: a little shorter than an actual fic, a little longer than a drabble. if you’re ever writing, please please listen to @liebegott’s playlists, they’re so calm and soothing. Yes, I put a “The Breakfast Club” reference in there!

Taglist: @adamantiumdragonfly @punkgeekchic @thatsonefishyboi @inglourious-imagines @legendarics @raven-has-no-gender2272 @prvtbullshit @3milesup @noneofurbusinez @gutsandgloryhere @sunnyshifty @meteora-fc @band-of-bitches @alienoresimagines @murphyism @we-always-hit-our-ass @wexhappyxfew @deldontplay @lovingunderratedcharacters @contrabandhothead @tremendousjudgesuitcasestudent @georgeluzwarmhugs @sunflowerchuck @hoosiers-blanket @speirs-crazy-ass @mrseasycompany @vat69nix @stressedinadress @tyenesnakes @ohmydazeee @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant

Treat You Better Than He Can

Bill Guarnere and Joe Liebgott fighting over you during that one scene that made us all hot 🥵

The shaky boat wasn’t helping anyone’s nerves, or to calm down. It was, in fact, adding to it. Especially Joe Liebgott and Bill Guarnere. Face to face, breathing uneven from both of the men. The uneven bobbing of the boat messing up card games and adding to the men’s seasickness, it was torture.

You were in the back, playing cards with Skip and Penkala. Training was rough in Toccoa, Sobel was incredibly harsh on you specifically. Being the only woman in combat. When he yelled at you, you bit back everything in you not to sass him back, of course you had caught the eyes of two hotheaded men, god forbid anyone call them that though.

“Full house, boys” you slowly layed your cards down in a row and Skip and Penkala groaned, laying their cards down across from you. You giggled “You’re too easy to play” Alex shook his head “You know, I could’v-” he began but was cut off when the sound of yells and the sight of four fists in 2 men’s faces.

Moments before..

“I bet you boys a hundered bucks that I’ll have Y/N by the end of this war” Guarnere proudly stated, taking the cigarette out of his mouth long enough to talk. This, of course, gained the attention of the California boy and Bull laughed and shook his head but didn’t look up from his pipe “I could’ve sworn she would’ve been with Joe by now”

“He’s been chasing after her too, Bull” another voice was heard, most likely George’s from the top bunk. Joe shook his head and jumped down from the bunk beds. Only to be met face to face with Bill

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Liebgott coldly said. “I think I’m Bill Guarnere”

He rolled his eyes “You’re not her type, anyways” Guarnere looked at the wood floor that was already shaky from the waves and then slowly up at Joe “And whos to say you are?” No answer “Whats her type then, if not me? Skinny boys who can’t own up to liking a girl?” That was the straw that broke the camels back and Bill was met with two fists reaching for his eyes

Now, your head snapped around at the commotion, sick to your stomach to see your two friends fighting “What the fuck are they fighting about?” Skip glanced at Alex, knowingly “you” Muck whispered under his breath. You whipped your head around “What?” You whispered. “War, he said war. Y/N”

You stared at Penkala for a moment but looked back at Liebgott and Guarnere, only able to see the actions. Which was Joe backing away from Bill but still getting ready to cuss him out

“You think you can get Y/N? We’ll see if she chooses a guy who can’t keep it in his pants or me”

“You could be confused as both of those” Guarnere spat and went back to his bed. Joe’s next words made Bill turn around, however.

“Let’s end this right now, you don’t talk to her, you don’t look at her, and you don’t even think about her. Do you understand me?” Joe yelled, pointing a finger in the air at Guarnere. Bill jabbed one back at the chest

“I don’t talk to you, I don’t look at you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to think about you. That’s what I’ll do” he said, so quietly, it was scary.

You began to grew anxious, looking at the two fighting. Hearing your name thrown around and Joe telling Bill not to talk to you. Malarkey took in account of your face and glanced over his shoulder, winking at Skip and Penkala “Hey Y/N!” He hollered from across the boat, not bothering to move from his spot

You looked over at Donald, a slight smile on your face. Whatever he said turned out to cheer you up

“My ma’ll love you when we get home together” He said, not looking up from his magazine and making Bill and Joe’s heads snap around at the speed of light in utter shock.

Everyone else equally shocked at the chaos Donald had knowingly just created.

#band of brothers #bill guarnere headcanons #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere imagine #bill guarnere #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #joe liebgott band of brothers #joe liebgott headcanons #joe liebgott #joe liebgott imagine #joe liebgott x reader

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Jealousy Baby

Requested by anon: Hngggg I LOVE YOUR PATRICK BATEMAN FIC. And i was wondering if I could request another one, where the reader murders the hookers Patrick had sex with out of jealously. And he finds out and finds it kinda hot and confesses to the reader that he likes them too.

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, murder, sexual references and mentions

Note: Thank you @darling-i-read-it for helping me with proof-reading and seeing if the fic was accurate! I was kinda worried, stressing over whether or not it would be good, but Maya really helped calm my nerves! Big thank you! (I really recommend her Patrick fics by the way!)

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace

Masterlist

Careful eyes watched, trained specifically on the woman leaving the apartment. Y/n never thought she’d find herself stalking Patrick’s home, gaze following each hooker after the other, yet here she was. A couple times, she could’ve sworn she saw a girl or two get gifted a violent and bloody end to her stay, but that seemed to be slowing to a halt now.

Was Patrick giving up his killing ways? Was the pleasure overcoming his blood-lust? Or did he have someone specific in mind for his subtle killing spree?

Each time a girl walked out, unharmed, completely casual, Y/n cursed to herself. She thought of ways she could solve the problem, rid herself of the jealousy, but also confess to Patrick before anyone else could.

There was a rather large chance he’d kill her if she did, but she didn’t care. She’d rather die by his hands than any other way, at least she’d be able to tell him the truth.

Feelings aside, she set out to do the bidding of her jealous haze. A knife positioned in her sleeve so perfectly it didn’t touch her skin but still remained invisible to the eye. “Excuse me?”

The blonde turned around, less than modestly dressed, and smirked at Y/n. “Oh hey there! Is there something wrong?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but the woman fueled her anger with an interruption, “Could you make it quick, by the way? I’ve got an appointment with a friend of mine, if you know what I mean.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, confused by the girl’s words.

“Nevermind. Just- get to your point?” Her friendly exterior seemed to vanish at the greeting of Y/n’s obliviousness to her inappropriate reference. Another thing that bothered Y/n. Why couldn’t Patrick pick nicer chicks?

“You and Bateman?”

“Who?” She paused, thinking, before the realization visibly hit her like a dead weight. “Ooooh, Patrick Bateman. Yeah, he’s got a nice bod. Better dick too.”

“How do you know him?”

“I’m a hooker, sweetie. My reference should’ve given it away, if not a tiny bit. I went to Patrick’s place, we hooked up, I left. That’s how it goes... Ya know, maybe he’d let me stay though. I would die for a dick as magical as his.”

“Is that so? Tsk tsk, be careful what you wish for, sweetie.” Venom dripped from the word as she whispered it, mocking the nickname the blonde had dubbed her.

“What?”

Y/n pulled the woman closer to her by her hair, she turned her around and swung her arm around her neck, nudging her arm just enough to get to the knife to slip out. “Enjoy your wish, sweetie.” Blood gushed from the woman’s neck as Y/n’s knife moved in one quick motion across it.

A soft grunt escaped Y/n’s mouth as she felt the warm blood spray on her arm, some of it getting on her face as the body slipped from her grasp. She felt nothing. No regret, no guilt, no sadness. She just murdered someone, and she enjoyed it.

. . .

“Good morning Y/n. How was your night?” One of the employees greeted her, however she was too distracted to notice. Patrick turned his head, confused by the new quietness of his coworker. Normally, he could care less, but, believe it or not, her greetings made his mornings. Most of the time. He elbowed her lightly.

“Oh! It was alright I suppose. Thank you for asking.” She hummed. A sick grin was resting on her face, hidden as she leaned her head down.

Patrick slowly noticed her off behavior throughout the day, but, like mentioned, he didn’t really care. So he brushed it off and packed up. He grabbed his brief case and went home.

There was a girl supposed to arrive in a couple hours, one he’d seen before, this time he was going to give her the ending everyone who slept with Patrick Bateman got.

However.

She didn’t show up.

It was happening often. Or rather, it happened whenever he let a girl go with all her limbs and her heart still beating. They stopped returning.

Bateman walked out of his apartment, looking around for the missing girl. He was just about to head back inside before he heard a muffled scream. Patrick followed the noise, which lead him to quite a sight.

Y/n held her hand over a girl’s mouth, the same girl that was supposed to “visit” Patrick tonight. She was whispering into her ear, holding a knife to her neck with a twisted smile. He waited patiently, watching with amusement and deep curiosity. The same girl he worked with, kind caring and smart, was now preparing to drag a knife across another woman’s throat.

To be honest he didn’t have any hatred towards her or any reasoning to kill her, she was the one person in the office that he could stand. It was entertaining, seeing the most innocent person he knew commit such a violent crime.

“You see, I’m doing a good deed. For you, and me, hun.” She slid the knife against the flesh of the other woman’s throat, watching the blood leave her body, her grin growing wider.

The body dropped to the ground and Y/n shrugged. She picked up the woman, dragging her to the staircase and letting the lifeless body tumble down the stairs, then following after and most likely finding a place to dispose of said body.

Patrick found himself smirking with the side of his mouth, shocked and slightly satisfied. He caught himself, though, and regained his composure, walking back to his apartment and planning what he could do to confront Y/n.

He needed to have a perfect plan. No scaring her off and no accidentally triggering her into killing him.

He laughed at himself.

There was no way she’d be able to kill him. He was bigger than her, faster than her, stronger than her, and obviously had more practice than her.

The blood was still on the carpet, so there was definitely going to be someone getting questioned in the morning. He thought for a moment. Mayhaps, he’d clean up for her this one time, can’t have anyone getting suspicious, could he?

. . .

"Good morning, Y/n.” It wasn’t the first time he’d greeted her, but it was the first that he used her first name. She mumbled a greeting back, but her head shot up when she processed his sentence fully.

“Did I hear you correctly?”

This was a first for him too, the first time he was annoyed by Y/n. Just a bit though. “That question can have many answers, Y/n. It would depend on what you believe I said.”

“I- you did it again!”

“Did what?”

“Used my first name!” she jumped up from her chair.

“Well it is your name, is it not?”

Y/n paused in front of him, “And yours is Patrick. What’re you getting at, Mr. Bateman?” She raised a curious eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Miss L/n, why don’t you tell me? I’m sure the blood near my apartment is a great conversation topic.” He quipped in a whisper. Patrick’s eyes watched Y/n’s face with hidden delight. Her eyes were the size of saucers, but only for a quick second.

“You should go to the authorities, Bateman, would hate to find out some weird murderer is out and about.”

“Yeah, would be a shame if some beautiful murderess caught up to me and put me six feet under, don’t you agree?”

They held eye contact, strong tension filling the air. Finally, they snapped. “Alright Bateman, what did you see?”

“Everything. Poor girl didn’t even get the chance to run before you watched the life drain from her eyes. You made quite a mess,” He walked around her, “luckily, I was there to pick it up for you. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Wait- what? You aren’t gonna kill me, make sure I can’t interfere with your work?”

“No, actually. It’s the opposite, in fact. I’m gonna give you a chance. I already admire you, you’re attractive, you’re not annoying, and now I know you have the killing touch to your life. You’re welcome to join in, as long as you don’t get in the way. Got it?”

She laughed, mostly convinced it was a joke. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Oh dear god, you’re serious.”

“That I am. Now, I hope you’ll take me up on my offer, Y/n.” He walked to the door, stopping before he opened it, “Ah, one last thing.”

“And that is?”

“I’m aware that it’s none of my business, and I wouldn’t like it if you asked such a question of me, but... May I ask what drove you to kill the girls?”

Y/n let the mischievous smirk return to her lips. At work, it was a dangerous thing to show, but this was for Patrick’s eyes and Patrick’s eyes only. “Jealousy, baby.”

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