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whatwouldsylwrite · 1 year

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hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt6

pt 1 pt 5

It’s your turn to take Abby on a date!

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

Notes: Kisses, book snobbism. (I didn't mention any book names that they're criticising and the name of Abby's favourite book so you could put what you want there). The butt song - Juicy, and the lyrics Abby's thinking about are "If you could see it from the front, wait 'til you see it from the back".

Special thanks to @ohlawdthebirds for helping me out with Abby's book taste!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It didn't take long for Abby to start calling you her girlfriend after your first date. It just felt… natural to her. Abby didn't even notice how she said "oh, that's my girlfriend, (y/n)" when someone asked her about you, because people asked. Abby didn't mind unless the person who was asking acted like they had a chance with you or made some inappropriate comments about your body - it was one thing to say you were hot and another thing to describe what someone’d do to you if they could. Abby now thought you were a fucking saint for dealing with these assholes as peacefully as you did, because she? She wanted to strangle them with her bare hands and she would if they didn't go away fast enough. Abby was scary, and people could definitely feel her fury just by standing next to her.

Of course, when you first heard her calling you her girlfriend you went red in the face and had this cute wide smile that made Abby melt and buzz and be so soft she might as well turn into Baymax. She was worried for a second - what if she was moving too fast? It was hard to tell with you: your boundaries were palpable, but you were so sweet and responsive, so she couldn’t be sure you’d have a negative reaction. And then you smiled at her bashfully and now the word “girlfriend” was the most frequently used word in her vocabulary.

The other perk - except for obvious, you were officially hers now - was how nervous her teammates got when she was sitting with them during your practice. It was like they had a fear of God in them, watching you dance and knowing Abby was right there and Abby would definitely kick their asses if they said something wrong. It filled Abby with such joy she’d act tough with them on purpose just to see them stammering - it was so fun to mess with them.

The only person who wasn’t scared of Abby was Manny, and he’d always comment on “you got lucky, Anderson, this chick is something else”, “oh fuck me, are you telling me I can’t appreciate the beauty? The skill? Girl’s got moves”, “it’s your civic duty to keep her satisfied, Abs, she is feeding us a three-course meal”. Depending on how obnoxious Manny was, Abby would either chuckle or slap his stupid head, but she knew he was kind-hearted, so she didn’t actually fight him.

And now Abby got to walk around the university campus and steal you to make out somewhere secluded, because now she was allowed to. It wasn't like you didn't let her kiss you - quite the opposite, you silently asking for a kiss was Abby's fucking kryptonite - but now you were more relaxed around her. Abby didn’t even notice you were tense before, but now the difference between nervous you and relaxed you was striking. It was still too easy to make you blush, but now your hands slithered around her waist like they belonged there, with familiarity Abby’s heart ached for.

Abby’s anatomy class just ended when she texted you to find out where you were (‘dining hall’) and she made her way to the dining hall, because she hasn’t seen you for two days - to think of it, god both of your schedules were absolutely fucked. You’ve seen each other more often at the activity centre than on the campus - which was ridiculous. So Abby collected her things, said her goodbyes and went to the dining hall.

When Abby walked into the dining hall her only goal was to find you, while a lot of people came around to say hi and ask her questions. Usually it was nice, but right now it was irritating - all those people distracted her from her search. And then she noticed you, sitting alone at the table, reading through something on your phone - Abby knew this look on you, eyes glued to the screen, brows a little furrowed and whatever you had in front of you abandoned. Fuck you were attractive like that - it wasn’t even about your looks, it was purely about your brains.

Abby quickly grabbed some food and walked to your table, watching how close she’d need to get before you notice her. The answer was: she needed to sit at your table before you looked up at her.

“What are you doing?” Abby asked, mostly referring to the reading.

“I keep it juicy-juicy, I eat that lunch.” You answered in a flat tone, your face fully blank, as you pointed at your plate which was half-finished.

Abby couldn’t contain her snort - you had no business to be funny, but fuck, you saying lyrics to Doja Cat in flat voice? Ridiculous.

“I meant, what are you reading?”

“My prof’s notes on my paper.” You scrunched your nose. “She is right, mostly, but I’ve never felt more academically inferior.”

Abby laughed and you both sprang into conversation, discussing everything and nothing at the same time, just catching up for those two days - sometimes you both were so busy you couldn’t even text each other regularly, so now Abby’s hands itched. She knew she was staring at you - who wouldn’t, you were so pretty - but she couldn’t help herself. Abby listened to you, absorbing your voice like a sponge while you both ate, but she needed something else.

“Do you have free time now?”

“Around half an hour.” You said after you checked the time. “What’s up?”

“Gonna steal you.” Abby said and watched with joy how your cheeks became pink.

You both finished your lunch and left the dining hall. The weather was nice today, though a little cold, so Abby took her jacket off and put it on your shoulders, rejoicing in her own possessiveness of you - it was her jacket on you, not someone else’s. Especially stupid jerks from your classes. And you wrapped it around yourself with a small smile that did something to Abby’s insides - in these moments she felt like she could conquer the whole fucking world.

Abby spotted the big wide tree that could give you privacy and led you to it, not even trying to be subtle - she needed to put her hands on you.

"I feel like I'm a teenager again." You laughed as Abby tugged to the tree.

"And how often did you get caught kissing girls during breaks?"

Abby tried to be polite and waited until you leaned against the tree, helping her play this little game where you talk and stand conveniently close to pretend it was a normal social situation.

"What do you think?" You asked, coy. Abby chuckled and moved close enough to put her hand on your neck.

"I think you're too smart to get caught." Abby whispered in your lips before she kissed you.

It was Abby's favourite part: feeling how you relaxed against her, hugging her waist and ever so slightly pressing her closer, as if she'd stop you. So Abby doubled down and pressed you against the tree hard enough so your bodies would be flush against each other, but not hard enough so your back would hurt from the tree bark. You sighed into her mouth and she deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly playing with your tongue, sharing the taste of the strawberry candy you ate during lunch.

Abby moved her hand under your shirt, stroking your side with her thumb as you shuddered and your knees grew weak - her touch to your bare skin lit you up like a Christmas tree. Abby squeezed your side and pulled you closer, marvelling at how soft you were, how gentle your fingers were on her jaw as you kissed her back with enthusiasm.

"I've missed you." You whispered in Abby's mouth and something warm filled her chest.

"Me too, doll." Abby kissed your jaw, her mouth slowly moving down your neck. "Tell me if this is not okay."

"Why wouldn't it be?" You said shortly to hide your quiet moan.

Abby didn't say anything and kept kissing your neck, nibbling at your skin as she moved down to your collarbones, her hand caressing your stomach now. You couldn't move anywhere, her thigh pressing between your thighs all the way to the tree. Abby's head got filled with a picture of you just grinding on her thigh like this and she had to move away a little before she could help you, her self-control slowly going out of the window.

"Fuck." Abby sighed as your foreheads met. "Did I tell you how crazy you make me?"

You blushed a little, shy smile tugging at your lips. Abby watched you, her hand still stroking your stomach.

"Every time we end up in this situation." You chuckled. "Are you free this Saturday?"

Abby looked at you, surprised, but not sure by what: by your question or by how you looked a little bit insecure, as if Abby would reject you. She knew now it was because you didn't have a lot of experience in being forward, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to see.

"Yeah. You wanna do something?"

"Yeah." There you go, Abby thought as you smiled, now feeling safe again.

"Are you going to tell me?" Abby asked playfully as she pinched your stomach slightly.

"Oh, I'm not telling you shit." You smiled deviously and Abby laughed. She knew not telling you anything about your first date would bite her in the ass.

"All right, then. Keep your secrets." Abby said as you giggled and pulled her in another kiss.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby wasn’t nervous, no. Of course she wasn’t, why would she be? It wasn’t like she didn’t like being in the dark about your plans for today. No, she was chill. She was cool. She was okay with not being in control.

Abby’s fingers were tapping a fast rhyme on the steering wheel as she waited for you to come down. At least you were merciful enough to tell Abby what would be appropriate to wear (“casual”) so Abby put on her favourite pair of jeans, her sleeveless shirt and a jacket. She was hoping she was dressed appropriately - it was very unlikely that you'd have clothes her size, unless you had a secret stack of oversize clothes she didn't know of.

Now Abby began to understand why you asked her so many questions, but just as you trusted her, Abby decided to trust you back - that was the fun of it, surprising your girl with something she'd like. You were definitely not taking her to do any sports activities, so she'd be fine.

Abby looked over the door to your apartment complex and once again she stopped breathing as she watched you come closer: you and your little outfits always left her speechless. She noticed in surprise that this was the first time she saw you in jeans and she was scared for herself when she'd see the back of those jeans. The fucking Doja Cat with her fucking butt song, Abby thought as she left the car to greet you.

You smiled at her and leaned into the kiss right away, not shy anymore. Abby couldn't help herself and accidentally touched your butt, enjoying how dense and hard it was because of the denim. She didn't know if you'd noticed, but you didn't say anything so she didn't say anything too.

"Are you going to tell me now where we are going?" Abby asked as you two sat in the car and she started the engine.

"I'm going to give an address where we can park and then we'll have to walk a little." You said with that naughty smile you gave Abby when you wanted to be a little shit. Cute little shit, but still.

"It's not rock climbing?" Abby asked jokingly.

"No. I'd have warned you." You said genuinely. "We can go rock climbing next time if you want."

Abby smiled, suddenly shy - she wasn't used to someone caring about her, as she usually was a carer.

The road took around twenty minutes and Abby put some music on - when you rode with her for the first time she offered you to put your music on, but you said you wanted to listen to her music and now when you both were in the car Abby'd pick something and then you both would exchange songs, turning them on through Abby's spotify. Now Abby's recommendations were fucked: the mix of her rock and classic with your rnb and kpop ("I know," you said as if you expected Abby to have some prejudice against kpop, "but they work with the best choreographers and I'm not passing up on opportunity to have a readymade tailored choreo"). But Abby didn't mind - some of the songs reminded her of your dancing anyway, and you'd dance with your hands to some of them, which was cute as fuck.

Abby parked the car when you spotted the free space - and she pretended she didn't notice you staring at her with pink cheeks as she was going in reverse with one hand on your seat. Abby knew she looked hot when she did it, and well. She did it for you anyway.

You two left the car and you immediately took Abby's hand to tug her gently as you walked her to the place.

"I hope you won't think I'm boring." You said as you two turned the corner.

"Are you going to make me look at rich people's portraits?" Abby asked with suspicion.

There was nothing more boring for her than to walk around dusty art galleries and look at dark ugly portraits. She liked nature or even good portraits, but ones that were done on black canvas with clear signs of inbreeding on their faces? No thank you.

"Well, no. But thanks for telling me before I started planning our next date." You laughed and stopped.

Abby looked at the place and now she understood why you said that. You were standing in front of the bookshop - and not the one that had a shop in each city, but this kind of bookshop that looks straight up from movies. It was two stories tall, with big windows and nice, interesting displays. It looked old, and maybe it was actually old, Abby didn't know.

"I wanted to do a book date." You admitted, getting shy. "You know, when we walk around and talk about books?"

Abby nodded, totally smitten. It was such a cute idea and it was definitely something Abby would like: geeking out about books she read while you'd geek out about books you've read?

"And there's a coffee shop on the second floor, so we can get coffee." You continued, now looking around as the nerves got the best of you.

Abby quickly squeezed your hand to make you look at her, because she would not let you get upset.

"Fuck, (y/n). I'm going to talk your ear off." Abby chuckled and watched how your face lit up.

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course." Abby leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You wiggled a little in anticipation and you two went inside the shop. There were not a lot of people and it was pleasantly quiet. The first display was "most popular" and you two got stuck there immediately.

Abby looked through the manga, sci-pop and modern novels, not really impressed with people's taste.

"Have you read this?" You pointed at one of the books and Abby shook her head. She did recognize the book from her booktok recommendations, but it didn't catch her interest. "Good for you, because this? This is a crime against literature."

Abby suddenly felt relieved: she wasn't sure if you'd be as snobby as she was with your books. Abby knew already you had different taste in literature, and somewhere in her mind Abby was scared you'd read something she'd absolutely hate.

"Why?"

"The language of this thing is just abominable. I swear to god the author doesn't know about different sentence lengths. Or it could've been done for a reason, but I definitely failed to find it." You shrugged and Abby smiled at you.

You moved on from the "popular now" display pretty fast, and you walked through the next shelves without much pause: they were maps and cultural guides you both didn't have any interest in. Next shelves were poetry and you tugged Abby to them, showing her your favourites. Abby in return pointed at authors she couldn't understand for the life of her ("I'd need a vocabulary to understand half of it") and you giggled. Then Abby spotted a collection of ancient Greek tragedies and her nerd brain activated as she retold some of them to you in modern terms while you laughed your face off.

"Medea invented female rage." Abby said it like she had on good authority, nodding seriously and you giggled.

"You make ancient literature sound fun, Abby." You said as you curled to her side, your hand in her hand.

Abby melted from your warmth and kissed your temple. Then she continued her geeking out by telling how ancient Greek theatre worked and you listened with big curious eyes and Abby blushed a little from such undivided attention from you.

Then you moved on to classic prose and discussed which books you had to read in school, which ones you hated and which ones made you cry. ("Les Misérables?" "Les Miserables") Abby loved Hugo just as much as you did - but she was the type of person to read through 20 pages of description of Notre Dame and then find out if it was accurate (but she cried about Esmeralda's fate anyway). You showed her some books you absolutely despised in school but liked them when you reread it a few years later.

You politely ignored the shelves with modern detectives and action and moved on to fantasy. You both found out your love for books started with children's fantasy, even though you've read different series - and you gushed to each other about your childhood favourites.

“You think you need a vocabulary for poetry? Try reading this without any prior knowledge.” You pointed at the part of the shelf where Tolkien’s books were placed.

“There’s actually editions with annotations.” Abby shared with you as she touched some of the books, just admiring them. “I have that edition of The Hobbit, if you want to.”

“Oh. That’d be cool.” You nodded and Abby chuckled.

Eventually you got stuck between non-fiction shelves, discussing which books you liked and which books were..not that good. Abby’s snobby side got a chance to shine when you were going through self-improvement books - she hated them. (I mean, what kind of adult can’t figure out time management? It’s like people forgot what university was like). You didn’t agree with her there (yeah, but you have a schedule that is made for you, and then suddenly you're a full on adult with zero skill in planning your time. I think it’s nice that people can at least try to learn this skill). It was a small disagreement but for Abby it was significant - the way you two had different opinions and it wasn’t a problem, but an opportunity to learn. She suddenly hoped that every disagreement you two would have in the future would be just as this one - an honest desire to understand each other.

Abby didn’t notice how long you were in the bookshop - it felt like 15 minutes when in reality it took you almost 2 hours to get through everything and talk about it. At one point when Abby was geeking out about some cool history books, you shyly leaned in to her and asked for a book recommendation and Abby just. Stopped functioning, her brain going into overdrive - you asked her for a book recommendation. For a second Abby just stood there, but then she grinned and went to find her favourite with your hand in hers.

Abby gave you the book and waited for your reaction - what if you read it already? What if you read it and didn’t like it?

“It’s actually on my reading list.” You said, delighted. “Thank you, Abby.” You leaned in and left a kiss on her cheek, while she smiled bashfully. “Wanna grab some coffee?”

“Yeah.”

You bought the book after you managed to convince Abby you’d pay for it, not her - and she was standing next to you trying not to pout. Abby wanted to take care of you, doesn’t mean in which way - actually, in all ways - but she shouldn't control you. So she stopped arguing about who will pay for the book and let you handle it.

You went to get your coffee - surprisingly, the coffee shop had more people in it than the whole book shop - and sat by the window, watching the sun go down. Abby watched how golden light hit your face, making you look downright unreal: all soft and relaxed and pretty, so damn pretty. She couldn’t look away from your eyes that changed colour under the light as you looked somewhere far away, just enjoying the company and the place. You’ve noticed Abby’s stare and blushed, confused.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Except pure unadulterated beauty? No, nothing.” Abby grinned as you giggled, your face fully red now.

You put your hand across the table and Abby took it, intertwining your fingers together as she stroked your palm with her thumb.

“Sometimes I think you say such things just to make me blush.” You said playfully and Abby laughed.

“I’m still telling the truth.” Abby shrugged.

You laughed and looked at Abby like you wanted to remember every little detail of her face, absorbing her. How the existence of one person can change your life, you thought, because Abby changed your life not just for the better, but for the best.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #hockey!abby

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coffeeshib · 3 years

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Kara and Lena gazing sadly and wistfully at photos of each other like at the end of that one episode of season 5, but this time they're in the same room - on the same couch, even - but just sitting at opposite ends with a grumpy Alex sitting in between them in a futile effort to thwart their obnoxiously rampant smooching.

“Are... are you guys serious right now?” Alex buries her face in her hands, unable to look at the two right now. “Y'all are so dramatic, and for what?”

“What? Can't I look at pictures of my girlfriend on my phone?” Kara's mouth tilts into a frown. It threatens to break into a smile when she hears Lena snickering behind Alex.

“This is family bonding night, and Kelly’s coming soon. I leave you two alone for two minutes, then I come back to see you guys all over each other and—” Alex shakes her head and takes a deep breath. In and out. She looks at Lena, hard. “No. I understand Kara, but you, Lena? What are you, twelve?”

“On a scale of one to ten, yes,” Lena says helpfully. Kara snorts loudly, and Alex sends a glare her way.

Ridiculous. Ridiculous. Where’s Kelly to keep her tethered in this mortal realm? Sighing with her entire body, Alex tips her face up towards the ceiling.

“You ever… look at your life, and wonder which of your choices led you where you are now?”

“All the time,” Kara says. She raises her phone up as if she's about to take a photo. On Alex's right, Alex sees Lena do the same.

“No, are you kidding, now you two are facetiming when y'all are within arm’s reach?” Alex's face drops.

#longingly staring at each others photos on the SAME couch - i'm. i'm cackling bye!!!!!!! man how does it feel like being the funniest person #knocks the air outta my lungs 'cause the level of dramatiques supercorp usually go through made me go yeah. yep i can see this they WOULD #supercorp #asks #the adventures of beefcake & 🍑

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gone-to-fight-the-fairies · 3 years

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Secret Santa

Summary: The BAU holds its first Secret Santa, and as fate has it, you pick your Spencer Reid. But you aren’t the only one with feelings. Gifts tell all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1550+

A/n: We were going to do Secret Santa at work but shit hit the fan, and half of the people don’t want to give to the other half. So, I’ll substitute it with fiction. Please enjoy 🎅

Considering the amount of time the group spent working, finding everyone on the team that one perfect gift would be time-consuming. So, you suggested Secret Santa.

Penelope loved the idea. She went around to gather everyone available and dragged them to the bullpen. Rossi, of the first to hear, offered his house to host the event on Christmas Eve.

Gaining momentum, you pulled a piece of paper from your desk drawer and went to work. Most of the team gathered around to watch as your fingers folded the page into small rectangles and then tore at the edges. For each sliver of paper, you wrote a name for each member of the team. And then concealed the information by folding each piece. Morgan came back with a hat from lost and found.

"Who wants to draw first?"

Morgan stepped up. He rubbed his hands together wickedly and drew from the hat, picking out a scrap. He revealed it to himself, keeping an even face.

Penelope couldn't contain her excitement and pranced to you. Unlike the others, she didn't contain her thrill of the pick. You would guess Morgan, but there wouldn't be one person she wouldn't be happy to buy presents for.

Prentiss stuck her hand in. She was smart enough to step back and wait to unfold hers when no one was watching. In a room full of profiles, one could never be too careful.

Rossi didn't seem too thrilled with his pick but went back to stand beside Prentiss, trying to look over her shoulder at hers.

JJ pretended to be selective, choosing one playfully to grab another one instead. She followed Emily's lead. Waiting until later to look.

Reid was the last in the bullpen and stood off to the side, watching everyone else as they took their turns.

"Reid?"

He bit his lip as he approached to pick between the last three. Once he pulled one, he unfolded it without concealing the corners of his lips.

"Who'd you get, pretty boy?"

Spencer panicked, hiding the name in his fist so Morgan couldn’t peek. "That's not a part of the game."

"We have a case," Hotch called out from his office door.

Morgan patted Reid on the back. There would definitely be more teasing later.

The group filed into the meeting room one by one. Last, you extended the hat towards Hotch. Raising a brow, he diligently selected a scrap. He unfolded it and gave you a look. "Secret Santa?"

Nothing could fool him. When you smiled at Hotch sheepishly, he returned the smile, tucking the paper into his coat pocket and resumed his solemn expression. And you wondered if he'd picked you.

You retrieved the last paper, putting it in your pocket for later.

The flight back home was when you remembered the piece of paper. Luckily the case hadn't been long, or else you'd risk running it through the wash.

As the others slept and rested, you chose the privacy of an empty row to unfold the paper.

Reid.

Of course.

"Get somebody good?" Reid sat down across from you. And you entertained the thought that with his high IQ came with mind-reading capabilities.

"Is there anyone bad?"

"I guess not."

You rested your cheek on your fist, staring at the scrap in concentration. "I don't know what to get them."

"You're lucky you looked at yours now. I've been worried about that the entire case. Slowed my reading speed down to ten-thousand words per minute."

You chuckle but offer your sincerest advice. "Whoever it is will love what you get them because it's from you."

"Thought that counts, right?"

You played with the paper between your fingers, and an idea popped up into your mind. "Right."

On Christmas Eve, everyone arrived at Rossi's home around seven. Rossi had spent the afternoon cooking an Italian dinner, and nothing had ever smelled more welcoming.

Each team member discreetly left gifts on a table along the wall of the large window looking out onto Rossi's backyard, lit with twinkling Christmas lights. Presents varied in size, some wrapped, some bagged. Each gift with a tag addressed to who without the giver's name. It was more fun for profilers to guess. Though by the time everyone sat down, there were two fewer gifts than people present.

"I'll go first," Rossi offered. Instead of going to the table to find his gift, he left the room, only to return with two handfuls of gift bags. "Merry Christmas." Rossi went around the table, handing a bag to each team member. When he gave you a bag, he beat answered your impending question. "What? I got myself." Returning to his seat as he continued. "So, I decided to get the same wine for everyone, since everyone depletes me at these gatherings."

"You should've picked from the hat again!"

"You didn't say I could pick again." He sassed back. "Why doesn't someone else go? Reid?"

Reid pushes his chair back but halts as you place a pack of cards on the table. You hold up the box, showing everyone. "Normal pack, right?" Everyone watched with a curious look. You hold it out towards Reid with your left hand. But with your right, you wave it over the box, and it disappears.

"You've picked up magic?!" Spencer radiated as you make the deck reappear, this time without the box. Everyone claps, and you bow in your seat.

"I thought I may try and attempt to impress the great Spencer Reid. And I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve for later." You send him a wink. "Who's next?"

"Go, kid." Rossi encouraged you. You walk over to the presents. Penelope, Emily, and then you spot your name written on a medium-sized gift bag. It's not too light nor too heavy as you bring it back over to the table, taking a seat as you pull out the red and green tissue concealing it.

It's a handbag. A cinched sack with a dusty rose print with a white stripe along the top. And a pristine designer name on the front.

You'd seen this bag… somewhere. But the memory was fuzzy.

"Wooooah." JJ is the first to see the label. "That's nice."

Penelope leans over JJ and snatches your bag from your hands. "You would call a Guess bag nice. This is a beautiful, crafted stretch of the fabric!" Morgan and Emily are stretching their necks. While Hotch and Rossi's brows furrow at the hysteria.

You're scanning everyone's faces until you look across from your seat and see Reid, the only one unalarmed.

"I don't get why people are willing to spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a single fashion accessory." Rodeo Drive. A case. You're walking down the street, passing by the rich, feeling like a have-not.

"It says that the owner of said handbag is worth something," You say to Reid, stopping in front of a designer's display window. Mannequins are dressed in obnoxious attire, but you're staring at a dusty rose bag displayed on a pedestal. "If someone buys it for you, they're telling you that you're worth wasting a lot of money on. If you buy it for yourself… then you're telling yourself that you're worth that." You'd seen many designer handbags you wouldn't be caught dead wearing, let alone paying the price of a down payment. But this one is modern and… your style. You can't help but gravitate towards it.

"You like that bag." He isn't asking. It's a fact.

"I don't like myself that much." You force yourself to keep walking, but Spencer lingers, looking at the handbag another moment.

You push back your chair, excusing yourself from the party. You miss the way the team looked between themselves, eyes one by one landing on Reid, who was quick to follow you into the hallway. Reid’s footsteps are too familiar not to recognize. When you turned on your heels, you nearly crash into him.

He was worried you would be mad, but your demeanor spoke the opposite. You would hardly meet his eye, lips pressed together in a straight line.

"I gave you a magic show, and you got me a purse!"

"I liked your show!" Spencer affirmed. "I loved it, actually."

"Why did you get me that bag?"

"Because you're worth that much to me." Now his eyes diverted your gaze, and the meaning behind his words clicked. "If anyone else had gotten me for Secret Santa, they would've bought me a book. But you gave me something that will last me a lot longer than five minutes. Something no one else would get me."

"The opportunity to ridicule me until the end of time?"

"A new shared interest!" He corrected. "And… maybe we could see The Magic Duel downtown sometime. I hear they're good. A little too into the banter-"

"Like as a date?"

"Yeah," he breathes out with a smile. He'd been holding that thought too long, you notice.

"Sounds like a plan." You grin back at him.

"But you're paying. That purse really wiped me out."

Your laughter breaks up the tension, and Spencer takes your hand, leading you back to the group.

If buying an expensive purse hadn't shown you his true feelings, his willingness to touch another human's hand did.

#Spencer Reid Fanfiction #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid Fanfic #Reid x reader #Spencer Reid Fic #Reid Fanfiction #Reid Fic #Reid Fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds FIc #Criminal Minds Fanfic

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xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

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Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Seven

Words: 4.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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NIKKI

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing?" Vivian asks me as we walk down the stairs of the law firm.

"I've broken every fuckin' vow except 'till death do us part' and I'll be fucked to hell if we stuck it out and stayed with each other after the worst bullshit just to fucking divorce." I state and she stays quiet for a moment before I'm stumbling back when she halts and snatches away from me, glaring up at me.

"What if I want a divorce?" She asks.

"I'd tell you you're full of shit." I snap and she raises a brow and crosses her arms.

"Then what the hell was the point of hounding me for a divorce just to do this?!" She barks at me.

"To prove a point I guess, I don't fucking know." I admit.

"To prove a point?! What point were you trying to prove?! That even when we're not together you still have the control in the relationship?!" She yells.

"I don't have any fucking control in this relationship, are you fucking me?! I haven't had any control since day fucking one, Vivian!"

"Are you fucking serious?!" She screams at me, frustration all over her face. "You have always had control, Nikki, trust me, I know, I'm the one that had to lay down and take your bullshit and give up what I wanted to do just so you'd feel in control!"

"I told you to go to fucking New York to go to school, did I not? What the hell did you do? You stayed! You can't get pissed at me for not giving you what you supposedly think I promised you!"

"No, Nikki, I'm not pissed at you for not giving me what you promised--I'm pissed because you've given me years of fucked up shit that was never supposed to even be a part of the plan!" She has tears in her eyes, her voice shaking…

She's right. I'm not going to tell her she's wrong…

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, exhaling, as she wipes her eyes.

"...Look, me and the guys are going to a different rehab, and I'll actually stick with it, and I want to work this out." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know how to come back from the shit we've done to each other, Viv, but if we can figure out how, then I wanna do it."

She doesn't say anything, looking at me with her pretty green eyes, nodding slightly.

I didn't realize that once we agreed to work on our marriage, that all hell would break loose in the midst of repairing the damage.

Me and the guys, except Mick, were sent to another rehab because the first one was too obnoxious, and by the second one, we were actually getting somewhere with each other as a band and individually, including the people closest to us in our lives. For me, that was Vivian.

My leg can't stop shaking as I repeatedly tap my foot, waiting for my counselor to get in and meet Vivian for the first time.

I exhale and glance at her, her red hair curled, reaching just over her boobs, long legs taken up by black stockings that have lace trim mid-thigh, just peeking out from under her black dress, black heels tapping quietly on the floor, her dark red nails standing out against the cover of the shitty crossword she's flipping through. Her perfume has the whole little area she's in smelling good and her red lips rub together for a moment as she doesn't even notice me staring at her.

It's a Saturday and I'm assuming she's going out with Sharise or something when she leaves here, or she dressed like this to torture me, knowing I haven't had sex in nearly two months, starting in Japan back in December, and my right hand is my best friend currently.

My fucking balls hurt as she shifts her legs, uncrossing them to cross them the opposite, now.

If it were up to me they'd be wide open and either around my hips or my head.

I keep my hand pressed to my lips, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, focused on her.

I slide down in my chair a little to try to see what kind of panties she's wearing--if she's wearing any at all.

It wouldn't surprise me if she's not wearing any at all. Just to fuck with my head like she loves to do.

"Take a picture and it'll last longer." She tells me flatly, not taking her eyes off the book.

"I would if I had a camera." I don't even deny staring at her and she flicks her gaze to me. "Or a video camera. That'd be better." I add.

"Ha. Ha." She sarcastically lets out and I smirk, watching her get up to grab her purse from the empty chair adjacent to me, leaning down to dig through it.

It takes everything in my power not to get behind her, bend her over it, slide her panties to the side and start poun--

"We're here to start the process of fixing things between us and you're here only focused on sex." She states and I snap out of it.

"No, I'm not." I argue, furrowing my brows.

"Nikki, I know when you're picturing having sex with me."

"I'm always picturing having sex with you." I state. "And you know exactly what you're doing."

The faintest, smallest little grin comes to her lips as she goes to sit down again.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles and I look at her.

"You're cruel." I mumble and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh, whatever." She replies.

"You look hot."

"Shut up."

"We can be done in ten seconds." I say next and she goes red.

"Stop, Nikki!" She scolds me.

"C'mon, Viv, we've never fucked on a desk before." I point out.

"We've broken into Doc's office just to mess around on his desk, Nikki." She reminds me.

"Well, we've never fucked on a therapist's desk, so c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I--" she starts laughing, not believing me, "--am not having sex in a rehab facility. I'm not that horny."

"So you admit you are horny to some degree, though." I say and she rolls her eyes.

"Shut up."

"Just flash me or something."

"Nikki."

"Please?"

"You're so weird." She ignores my request while I'm pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I'm in pain, Vivian." I say next, groaning, exaggerating.

"Sounds like a personal problem."

"Fuck." I lean my head back, rubbing my face.

The door opens and my counselor comes in, smiling at us.

"Sorry, I'm late." She says, stepping to Vivian, extending her hand. "I have heard lots about you, I'm Amber."

"Vivian. It's nice to meet you." Vivian replies, smiling her shiny smile that should win her an Oscar because she wears it so well even when she's fucking miserable--I obviously know from experience.

Amber sits behind her desk as Vivian sits back down in the chair, and she looks up from her paperwork at us, raising her brows.

"If we're going to start this grueling process, I highly suggest you two get comfortable being within three feet of each other, again." She adds.

Me and Vivian exchange looks, before she sighs and stands up, walking to the little couch I'm sitting on, plopping down beside me.

I smirk to myself, looking at her from the side of my eye.

"Okay, let's just get to it, Vivian, I've gotten a brief history of your husband, and I feel as though I can sort of, kind of, pin point a thing or two that has lead to the point that you two are at currently, but I'd really like to learn a little bit about you because all that's portrayed publicly to all of us is he's this nitty gritty, abrasive rock God, and you're the angel that tamed him to settle down." She explains and Vivian scoffs, raising her brows. "I know it sounds ridiculous but that's what's given in magazines and pictures taken of you two."

"Yeah." Vivian nods.

"And I don't think that's true, I don't think everything is happy and sunshine and, 'oh, we're opposites but that's what we love about each other,' and blah, blah, or else neither of you would be here admitting your marriage is in shambles...so, becoming familiar with Nikki--sober--the way that I have the past week gives me a sense of who he really is without the drugs and the cameras and the fans and the girls, because in here he's only got himself. He doesn't have to upkeep the persona he puts on to make it seem like everything's perfect. And, although you aren't a patient here, I really want you to allow yourself to just be and differentiate between who you are to the public, and who you are privately, because--from what I've heard--they're two completely different people." She says next and Vivian nods. "So, who is Vivian Kinston and how did she get together with Nikki Sixx?" She offers a warm smile and Vivian exhales, already looking overwhelmed…"In three descriptions, who were you when you met Nikki?"

"A very religious, ballet dancing, perfectionist." Vivian says and Amber nods.

"Let's dissect that and break it down for a moment." She says next. "Okay, religious--was that on your own or passed through your family or…?"

"Both of my parents, but mainly my mom." She replies and Amber nods.

"Okay, and what is mom like?"

"Very strict Christian, we couldn't have anything secular in the house...I'm not sure what she's like now but when I last saw her she had the pastor I grew up with trying to exorcise a demon from me because she found out I was engaged to Nikki." She tells her and Amber's brows shoot up.

"When was that?"

"'82, '83, around that time." Vivian explains.

"So you haven't seen mom in close to six years."

"Yeah."

"Okay...you were a ballet dancer when you met," she starts the next point.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since I can remember." Vivian informs her.

"So, a strict Christian upbringing, and a very, very, intricate form of dance that requires a lot of discipline, since you were probably a toddler."

"Yeah."

"And is that where the perfectionism comes in, through your background with dance?"

"No."

"No, okay."

"My mom and my upbringing." Vivian explains. "Anytime I did something my mom didn't like or approve of or thought other people would lose their minds over if they knew I was doing it, she'd get onto me and would constantly drill into my head, 'this is not what we do, Vivian'."

"Wow." Amber nods, her brows slightly furrowed. "So, it doesn't come from a place of that physical drive to be perfect at most things you do, it comes from a mental and emotional drive of not wanting people to know what skeletons are in the closet that would make them think less of you."

Vivian nods, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, and do you think that sense of perfectionism from your mother has helped you or harmed you in the long run?"

"Harmed." She's saying it nearly before Amber can get her words out of her mouth.

"And why is that?"

"Because I grew up with her holding me to a nearly unreachable standard, and hounding unrealistic expectations onto me."

"And in turn…"

"...It's made me do the same to him." Vivian says and I stare at the floor.

"What unrealistic expectations, or unreachable standard have you held him to?"

"Not doing the things that he's done." She says next.

"What things?"

"Infidelity and drug and alcohol addiction."

"Why is expecting your husband not to cheat on you or put drugs and alcohol before you an unrealistic expectation that is unattainable for him?" Amber asks next and I rub my lips together.

"Because of who he is and what he does." Vivian says next and Amber raises her brows.

"So you think because he's Nikki Sixx--big time rockstar--that it's not realistic to expect him to do what he is supposed to do as your husband which is stay faithful and not put substances before you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I see." Amber looks at me and I sigh. "Was your relationship ever open or polygamous, during or prior to marriage?"

"No." She shakes her head.

"Was he addicted to anything when you got married?"

"He did drugs and drank but at that point in time he didn't have a heavy reliance on it, no."

"An unrealistic expectation would be you telling him he can sleep with other women but then you getting angry every time he did. That's setting an unrealistic expectation of, 'I'm giving you permission to indulge in sex with other women but I expect you not to,' or him being addicted to heroin when you got married and you expecting him to drop any addiction he has solely based on the fact that you two got married. That's an unrealistic expectation. Him being a famous rock musician has nothing to do with his ability, or lack thereof, to be monogamous and sober." She explains to Vivian. "So you wanting your husband to not have an affair and not get strung out was not an unrealistic expectation that you had in a moment of naivety." She assures her.

"Okay." Vivian sounds like she's been waiting to hear that for a while…

"And I believe the issues you two are facing the most from both Nikki, and yourself, have grown from the root of how you two think. I know we hear the saying, 'opposites attract,' but we don't think about how sometimes when people are too opposite it acts like hot and cold air when it mixes and if it's in a big enough whirl, or big enough of a spectrum, it creates a tornado or a hurricane." She says next. "Religion equals a sense of morality, your history with ballet equipped you with a fair amount of discipline, and that perfectionism that you spoke on is your way of caring so much about what others think of you, you sacrifice yourself and just smile to keep things looking amazing on the outside."

Vivian nods.

"I asked him to describe you in three words, and he said, 'beautiful, depressed, belligerent'." She tells her and I slowly see tears coming to Vivian's eyes. "Nikki admitted to me that when he met you, he had no sense of morality, he was doing whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he had no discipline in terms of controlling himself around drugs and women, and he couldn't give less of a care about what people thought of him." She explains. "And that might even been fun and exciting when you were just starting out but once you're married and he's gotten all these eyes on him suddenly, there are expectations put on the both of you to be this couple who has everything, and you're both attractive, and he's the bad boy and you're the good girl and you just fell in love is the only explanation you have for making the relationship work to the point of wanting to get married and you have a great house and matching cars and all this and all that and you're in the press smiling and laughing and holding hands and hugging up on each other and oh, it's a wonderful life, but as soon as you get alone…" she trails off, looking at the both of us knowingly. "He's high, you're suffering, and both of you are living a hell. But nobody can know that because you're Nikki and Vivian Sixx. You two are perfect because he doesn't cheat on you like other rockstars do to their wives and girlfriends. He doesn't put drugs and alcohol before you like so many others do to their girlfriends and their wives. He doesn't turn into this monster you don't recognize and lash out like a dog at you after a night of sitting in his closet and shooting up, because he 'loves' you, and you don't have to keep quiet for years while it just keeps adding up and adding up until finally you beat on your husband and those around you over minuet instances because the big things you were probably justified to get that angry over were swept under the rug and were never dealt with for years--because that's not what you do." She ties it right back to Vivian's mother.

A tear rolls down Vivian's cheek, neither of us expecting it to be this heavy just during her introduction to Viv.

"If we don't stop that mentality, it's going to poison every relationship around you that it hasn't already and when you have children it's going to be a curse on them just like it's a curse on you." She tells her, as Viv sniffles, trying to keep up with wiping her tears away. "I've already been on him about his upbringing burdening him, so please don't think this is a personal attack on you."

Viv nods, mouthing, "okay."

"You two want to make this relationship better and be better for one another, we are going to have to tear down six years worth of walls and blockades and gut this entire thing completely and start again. It's not going to be easy, you're probably going to learn things about each other you've been hiding and maybe even amicably decide to divorce before it's all over with, but you are both going to heal and start the process of forgiveness. With yourselves, with your parents, with your friends, and with each other."

She gives the both of us some homework...

"I want you two to prepare to tell each other everything you've not told one another for next time we meet." Amber tells us and the color drains from Viv's face, I know for a fucking fact that I don't look much different from her.

"What?" Vivian asks her.

"If we're healing this relationship we need everything in the dark in the light so we aren't building on an old foundation of secrets." She states. Vivian just nods hesitantly before we're dismissed.

"Vivian." I stop her out in the hall before she can leave, grabbing gently at her wrist.

"Yeah?" She asks me.

"I love you." I tell her and she looks at me, smiling a little.

"I'll see you Wednesday." She replies, squeezing my hand before she walks away.

What the hell? I tell her and I love her and she just fucking says, "I'll see you Wednesday'?"

I watch as she goes down the hall, heels clicking, hair down her back…

Goddamn.

This is definitely my payback for taking my time with her for granted, because now that I'm in my right mind and not ruining our marriage, she barely even looks at me.

At least she was actually wanting to work things out, because after the Vanity bullshit, I thought we'd never make it out after the first time I saw her since it had happened.

July 1987

I brace myself against the bathroom wall as my whole body goes numb for a moment, my eyes rolling momentarily.

"Sixx, c'mon, we gotta get goin', Viv's here!" Fred yells from behind the door, his fist beating at it.

Fuck him. Fuck this tour. Fuck this band. Fuck everything right now.

Viv's just got here from the airport, she flew back in earlier this morning and I've been hiding, completely avoiding her, but I can't anymore.

The media's in a frenzy since Vanity aired all of our dirty laundry, only making Viv and I both on edge even more.

We've been denying the shit out of Vanity's engagement claims, but I don't think people are buying it as much as we'd like to think they are.

I take in a breath and stumble to the mirror, looking at myself.

Not too bad for a low down, dirty, bastard.

Opening the bathroom door to see where Fred's waiting for me, I glance past his shoulder to see Vivian.

She looks like she feels like hell, but has managed to pull herself together.

Makes two of us--well, kind of, at least.

"C'mon, the guys are already at the venue."

Fred tells me.

"Great." I smirk, patting his shoulder, stepping to Vivian.

I don't think either of us are taking into consideration the amount of utter bullshitting we're about to have to do.

I also don't expect the amount of paparazzi waiting for us right outside the hotel's doors.

As soon as the door opens, screaming, flashes, invasive questions come hurtling our way. It feels closterphobic enough to make Vivian grab my hand, tight, curling closer into me as if trying to hide away from prying cameras and questions about my alleged affair.

I feel her being tugged at once, and just as she says, "Nikki," I'm snatching my hand from hers to beat repeatedly, as hard as I can, at the forearm of the perpetrator, a media creep trying to get her attention.

"Don't fucking touch her!" I bark out over the noise and he stumbles back, holding at his arm as I put my arm around her waist, tightly, getting to the car.

When we get inside, Vivian's obviously distraught over what just happened, shoving herself away from me.

I turn my anger to Fred.

"What the fuck is the point of having fucking security if you're not going to keep people from touching her?" I sneer.

"Because I'm a bodyguard, but you're a fucking Rottweiler." He states back without hesitation and I just roll my jaw, glancing at Vivian and she doesn't even look at me.

I sigh and dig in my pocket for the little baggie I got earlier, grabbing my hotel room key to take a bump to help me wake up for this show, and when we get to the venue, I'm getting out of the car and waiting for Fred to get out.

He does, and I stop Vivian, nudging her back inside before saying, "we'll be there in a second."

Fred just looks at me and exhales, rolling his eyes before stepping inside.

Vivian sighs out as I look at her, avoiding looking at me…

"Vivian, are we gonna talk about it or…?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"You proposed to her, Nikki."

"Allegedly." I add.

"You. Proposed. To. Her." She says it sharply and I lean back. "You had an affair with her. I trusted you. I trusted the both of you. And you lied to me." She hisses. "So, no, there is nothing to talk about...just let me out of the damn car." She slides over and opens the door but I reach over her and slam it shut.

She takes heavy breaths from where she's sitting, my body hovering over hers, the tips of our noses brushing together…

I lean down, my lips pressing to her's for just a second before she lets go of the fact I completely screwed her over.

I'm about to pull away when she pushes her tongue past my lips, her nails running over my back through my shirt as her legs wrap around my hips, one of her hands in my knotted hair.

As always, I end up eating her like a starved pervert, relishing in the sounds of her moans and gasps.

The truth is, she may hate me, but I'm good at getting her off and she knows it.

Once she comes and we start getting ourselves together to go inside, I look over at her.

"So, are we good?" I ask her, oh, so fucking stupidly, and she blinks at me.

"What?"

"Are we good?"

She catches on to what I mean, and rubs her lips together.

"Nikki, you could fuck me into oblivion, which you can't because I'm never letting you fucking touch me again, and we still wouldn't be good. Not even close to 'good'. You can't have an affair with my friend and then expect everything to be good just because we fooled around while you were stoned out of your mind." She snaps and I roll my jaw as she gets out and slams the door, stomping to the back entrance of the venue.

For the first time I feel the sting of rejection.

Is this how groupies feel?

I never thought once about getting head, leaving them in the limo and going on about my business.

Anger boils in me, Sikki chomping at the bit.

That selfish bitch!

I get out and go after her.

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna say to her, but I'm mad.

"How dare you use me to get your rocks off and then toss me aside?", no, because I've done that to her a couple times...but that's because she's into it.

I swear she comes harder when I randomly come up behind her and just start going at it because she knows I'm just using her to get off and then leave her wherever I stopped her, and go out right after and wouldn't think twice about it.

But me? I'm so used to her looking at me like I'm God while I have my full attention on making her feel good, and she has the audacity to get off on my face and then kick me to the curb and tell me I'm never touching her again?!

I decided it wasn't worth the fist fight it would inevitably turn into by the time I got inside, but and looking back, she had every reason to get me horny and then swear off ever letting me get near her again. It was petty, but smart. And despite having sex one last time not long after that instance, the point was still made clear. For the first time in our relationship, the acceptance of sexual advances didn't take the place of forgiveness.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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chacusha · 2 years

Text

I posted 451 times in 2021

109 posts created (24%)

342 posts reblogged (76%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.1 posts.

I added 552 tags in 2021

#quodo - 229 posts

#star trek: deep space nine - 93 posts

#star trek - 51 posts

#quark - 36 posts

#seiken densetsu - 32 posts

#final fantasy - 25 posts

#odo - 23 posts

#soulcalibur - 22 posts

#reblogging from my art blog - 22 posts

#soul calibur - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 108 characters

#'eventually though you realize that all that jealousy means something. and it's a little bit heartbreaking.'

My Top Posts in 2021

Anyway, I actually came across that great Mirror Odo AU a while ago and sent my partner this message while he was in a very important meeting:

"I am sorry but I had to send you a message to tell you that on the internet people have this idea for Mirror Universe Odo who (like all people in the Mirror Universe) is a total vampy skank. It's SUCH a good setup to explore Prime Universe Odo's repression because Mirror Universe Odo would be so unabashedly attracted to Quark and creepy about it and it would activate so many of normal Odo's instincts all at once: to be embarrassed by it, to be uncomfortably Into It, and to be protective of Quark all at the same time. People on the internet are GENIUSES."

41 notes • Posted 2021-04-10 20:00:39 GMT

To recover from a terrible time grading, I made some icons. They're all Ferengi-themed but mostly Quodo and Quark.

57 notes • Posted 2021-06-21 06:41:00 GMT

Having lots of feelings thinking about Quark and Odo’s relationship, where I think that part of the reason why Odo is actually fond of/attracted to Quark is because Quark consistently treats Odo like a rival/nemesis/annoyance, which is actually quite humanizing for Odo? Like, other people respond to Odo’s coldness and distance with polite or cautious distance in return or professionalism or sometimes they tiptoe around Odo’s feelings to avoid offending him. But Quark is the opposite: he’ll piss Odo off on purpose, go out of his way to antagonize him, needle him, etc. And I think Odo actually finds that hot? Because he wants someone who isn’t afraid to pick fights with him, who isn’t intimidated by him, who’s willing to be blunt with him and call him on his bullshit (even if his and Quark's notion of bullshit is very different) -- because it just feels nice.

Just like a friendship where you’re so close that you can be quite insulting and rude to each other and know it won’t break the friendship, the way Quark treats Odo comes off as very familiar and intimate. Also, in the way he behaves, Quark seems primarily concerned with how annoying and mean Odo is, so much so that he doesn’t even see Odo’s alienness/otherness. But it’s not like Quark doesn’t pick up on Odo’s otherness, because to the contrary, he regularly points it out all the time. It just is clearly not the most important part of his and Odo’s relationship to him.

And the ironic thing is that Quark isn’t treating Odo specially. Quark is just like that with everyone -- he’s just generally socially obnoxious and self-absorbed and overly familiar with everyone. But to Odo, that behavior which might be described as antisocial and annoying actually has special meaning.

Anyway, one of many reasons why Quark and Odo’s antagonism comes off as so loving and affectionate.

64 notes • Posted 2021-10-27 17:20:23 GMT

Another thing I love about Odo is that canonically he has a ridiculous amount of romcom-like or romance novel-esque or fic-tropey storylines.

In THIS episode, he is stuck in a broken elevator for hours with someone who has a crush on him.

In THIS episode, he confesses his feelings to his crush because he thinks they're about to die but then they don't and it's awkward. (Also, it's not his crush.)

In THIS episode, he fake-marries a platonic friend for Reasons and has to convince bystanders that the wedding is legit also for Reasons.

In THESE episodes, he's trapped in his office/stranded in the past/stranded on a mountain with his worst enemy and they have to cooperate to get out of there alive.

In THIS episode, he has custody of someone in a witness protection program and there's only one bed.

In THIS episode, his older, more mature self wingmans him with his crush because he regrets not confessing to her before she died.

In THIS episode, a hologram wingmans him with his crush by convincing him to have a date with "a very convincing actress pretending to be his crush."

I know this is because Odo is very emotionally constipated and so needs contrived plotlines in order to have any love interests at all, or in order to develop his relationship with other characters. But one consequence of this is that it's amazing the number of times I've written a tropey Quodo fic and been like, "Oh man, is this too contrived??" and then immediately been able to think of an analogous plotline in canon involving Odo. The only change I'm making is Adding More Quodo.

87 notes • Posted 2021-11-30 13:01:22 GMT

One of my favorite aspects of Odo's relationship with Quark is that it's one arena of Odo's life where he's, like, a clueless idiot. Odo is a super-being whose job is to be a hardboiled detective who is able to read between the lines and see through people's deceptions and notice little details that other people overlook... but when it comes to his relationship with Quark, he is, like, so fucking dense.

Like, "Ah yes, this longstanding, weirdly-affectionate relationship I have with the local criminal... It must be hate." "Quark constantly acts like we're already married... because he wants to ANNOY me." "I always keep an eye on Quark. He has no secrets from me. Gotta stop by Quark's bar to let him know I'm thinking about him." (Has no idea how this comes off to people.)

It puts a sort of comedic/relatable(?) edge on what would otherwise be a pretty intimidating/aloof character.

165 notes • Posted 2021-06-24 06:40:46 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #hm…#I guess people like my Odo meta/character study huh

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