#this is. the stupidest thing i have ever written
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trying to write something about how much i hate the ‘misandry in utena/the utena fandom’ crowd but it feels kind of redundant to me. i think i just don’t consider people who use the word ‘misandry’ serious people. i do however feel an obligation to occasionally make my position clear on that front, because im aware i tougapost and some people love to bring that guy up as the misandry in the utena fandom poster boy. which is so fucking stupid because touga is not victimised by ‘misandry’, touga is victimised by homophobic violence which is wrapped up in misogynistic violence, both of which are the cogs in the machine we call patriarchy. touga is not affected by misogyny in the same way that anthy is, that’s one of the key takeaways you can get from their being foils, and i don’t really like the whole ‘oh patriarchy hurts men too’ stuff because it neglects the fact that men reap so many material benefits from what some people deem ‘harm’ to them (emotional repression being the big one. it’s not great but when you’re the privileged party and gain power from it, who cares? it’s like the inverse of kozue trying to use sexuality to gain power: she can’t do that). but touga is a shitty dysfunctional person who has been shaped by violence and in turn perpetuated violence, and his character excels, imho, at examining how patriarchy functions and attempts to homogenise life’s many complexities. same deal as nanami really. they just play different roles in this gender essentialist nightmare that crunches out any grit. and you can extend that idea to all rgu characters but i am who i am and that is a kiryuu siblings enjoyer
#i always say that tougaheads are either the stupidest or wisest utena fans#you know are you blorbo-ifiying him in a way that would stab anthy to death with a million swords imbued with human hatred#or are you considering his character in all his awfulness and complexity and attempting to internalise the things you can learn from him??#don’t have the energy for complex thoughts tonight and yet ive written all this out#sorry for the brain fart#one day ill write this shit out properly with all my transfeminist theory properly cited#but for now i will half remember passages from whipping girl and gesture hysterically at himemiya anthy my best friend himemiya anthy#and also occasionally try to convince people that touga’s perspective is interesting to consider#i mean it’s horrific and maddening and frequently deeply uncomfortable and to be clear as a person?? hate that guy#but. oh i don’t know. oh i don’t know. extending compassion towards him helped me a lot personally#he anthy and nanami all mean more to me than i can really express#and i think none of them should ever speak to each other ever again#maybe anthy is allowed one run in with both of them separately. and she gets to dunk on them. but maybe not#ANYWAY!#dais.txt
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Hi my name is Sexy Redhead Maeðros Nelyafinwë Fëanorion and I have long coppery red hair (that’s how I got my epessë) with fiery orange streaks that reaches my mid-back (which is super far because I’m so tall) and eyes that burn with white fire within and a lot of people tell me I look like Mahtan Aulendur (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m close kin to Prince Fingon the Valiant but I wish I wasn’t because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a Ñoldo but my hair is red, not dark. I have ███ skin (and sometimes freckles depending on the author or artist). I’m also a general, and I command a border fortress called Himring in East Beleriand where I’m the leader of my House (I’m the oldest of seven brothers). I’m a son of Fëanor (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly red. I have complicated feelings about my brothers but I get all my vestments made by them. For example today I was wearing a red tunic with matching trim around it and red leather pteruges, black leggings and also riding boots. I was wearing a breastplate with the star of Fëanor tooled onto it, a copper circlet, a brace for my shoulder and a prosthetic hand my brother made. I was walking the walls of Himring. It was snowing and raining so there were unlikely to be any enemy incursions into the march, which I was very not unhappy about. A lot of Sindar stared at me. I put up my one remaining middle finger at them.
#mine#silm#silmarillion#maedhros#sillymarillion more like. or perhaps stupidmarillion#this gets the honor of being the stupidest thing i have ever written#although ‘writing’ might not be the correct verb to describe the chaos i have here unleashed upon the english language.#i’d say i’m sorry to put this out in the world but i’m Not and i think it’s funny as hell and i look forward to everyone’s suffering lol#my immortal
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“Hey, Dirk,” says Tina, sniggering, “you ever heard of this movie Goncharov?”
Dirk drops a stack of five plates.
“Oh, no,” he says.
(Read on AO3 here)
Tina runs for the nearest broom as Dirk runs for the nearest computer. By the time the plate shards are swept up, Dirk has opened about sixty tabs. “This can’t be happening,” he says, clicking on five more links. “It’s not possible.”
“Mm,” says Tina, “seems around you, just about anything’s possible.”
“But Goncharov,” says Dirk, desperately. “It doesn’t exist.”
“Well, duh,” Tina shrugs. “It’s an internet joke. Crowdsourcing a made-up movie. There’s a pret-ty hot love triangle, too - wanna see?”
“No!” says Dirk, flinging up his hands. “It does exist, it just - it shouldn’t. It can’t, not anymore. I already solved that one.”
Tina stops looking for fanart. “Wait,” she says, “Goncharov is a case?”
—
“The mind wipe,” Dirk announces, half an hour later, “has failed.”
Tina, Farah, and Todd blink at him. “What mind wipe?” says Todd finally.
“The Goncharov mind wipe,” says Dirk. “It’s wearing off. Oh, I told Thor it wouldn’t last!”
“Thor?” says Farah.
“Wearing off?” says Todd.
“Wait, so there’s real footage of the hot love triangle?” says Tina.
“Focus!” says Dirk. “This is important! Clearly, the repressed memories are already bleeding through - if this spreads, who knows what will happen!”
“Not us,” says Todd, “since you haven’t told us anything about it.”
Dirk glares at him. “It’s very simple,” he says. “Loki, god of mischief, weaseled his way into a theatrical re-release of Martin Scorsese’s most famous mafia movie, in an attempt to spread his mind-controlling message to a wider audience - and also possibly for a chance to star alongside famed actor Robert DeNiro, though I have to say, Loki’s acting chops were nowhere near as professional –”
“Loki is in Goncharov?” says Tina, bouncing up and down. “Who is he? Not Andrey? Oh - Katya?”
“Er,” says Dirk, “frozen… Steve?”
“Ice pick Joe?!” says Tina.
“Wait - back up,” says Farah, getting off the couch and heading for one of the six whiteboards scattered around the agency (Dirk refuses to erase any “essential records,” which includes Mona’s doodles, Farah’s grocery lists, Todd’s drunk-after-midnight song lyrics, and Dirk’s confusing string walls, so in lieu of reuse, they just keep buying more). “Mind-controlling message? About - what, exactly?”
“World domination,” says Dirk. “What else?”
“What, like, make way for our mythological Norse overlords?” says Todd.
“Todd,” says Dirk, “the art of mind control is that of subtle insinuation. The smallest nudge to a person’s most seemingly innocuous impulse might one day bring about Ragnarok itself. The pathways of the human brain are far beyond any of us to begin to fathom.”
Todd exchanges glances with Tina. “So…” he says.
“So “Make way for our mythological Norse overlords” was embedded in the credits, yes,” says Dirk.
Farah pauses halfway through busily scribbling a semi-coherent list of Dirk’s far-from-coherent retelling. “If it’s just the credits,” she says, “couldn’t you replace that segment? Instead of mind-wiping the entire human race?”
“Yeah, who watches the credits, anyway?” says Tina. “Farah, you don’t count, no one else cares about the back-up apprentice costume designer.”
“Yes, that was my suggestion,” says Dirk, “but I was, er, overruled. Thor doesn’t generally go in for half-measures, in my experience.”
“And how extensive is that experience?” says Tina.
“We’re getting off-track,” says Dirk quickly. “The important thing is, the mind-wipe wore off. And if everyone suddenly remembers Goncharov, they’ll also remember the credits. And if they remember the credits…”
“Make way for Loki,” says Todd gloomily.
Everyone stares at the whiteboard.
“Okay,” says Farah, clapping her hands together, “so all we have to do is find Thor, find the mind-wipe technology, debug the mind-wipe technology so it works this time, figure out how to deploy it correctly, and get Thor to mind-wipe the entire human race a second time, before everyone remembers Goncharov and Loki comes back. If he’s not back already.”
Everyone stares at Farah.
The doorbell rings, and then the door bursts open. “DIRK GENTLY!” roars a voice. “Hail and well met!”
—
“You broke the mind wipe box?” says Dirk, aghast.
Thor squirms on the couch. Thor is the only one on the couch, because he takes up most of the couch. Farah is still by the whiteboard, and Todd and Tina are standing by Dirk, completely failing not to stare.
“I didn’t break it!” Thor protests. “I simply - misplaced it. Onto a chair. Which I then sat on. Which was, honestly, far worse for me than for that box, given all the unpleasantly sharp components.”
Todd shakes his head and wishes Thor didn’t sound so much like Dirk, with a deeper voice and a slightly different accent. It’s hurting his brain. He tries and fails to stop looking at Thor’s bare arms. They take up an unfair amount of his field of view.
“Thor,” says Dirk, putting his hands on his hips, “we’ve talked about this. You must be more careful where you sit.”
“Again,” says Thor, “I did not know that hat was valuable.”
“It was cursed!” Dirk squawks.
“Can everyone focus!” says Farah. “Thor, do you have the box with you?”
Thor shifts slightly and pulls out a mangled cube. It looks like a movie prop that, well, someone has sat on. The translucent blue sides are faded and dusty, and wires are poking out of the middle.
“...Sorry,” says Thor.
Tina squints at the box. “You’re tellin’ me this thing is why I forgot the boat scene?” she says. “I dressed up as the boat scene for Halloween!”
“...You were a boat?” says Todd.
“I was six,” says Tina, “and in retrospect, the homoerotic overtones went way over my head. Cool costume, though.”
Farah, meanwhile, examines the box. “This isn’t too bad,” she says. “It should definitely be fixable. Probably. Almost certainly.”
“If only we still had Patrick’s lab,” Dirk sighs.
Farah’s eyes twitch sideways. “Well…” she says.
The door opens again. “Farah!” yells Lydia. “Have you heard of this movie Goncharov?”
—
“Of course I can fix it,” says Lydia.
Everyone sits forward on their respective couch, couch armrests, chairs, or, in Dirk’s case, table. “You can?” says Thor.
“Yeah,” Lydia shrugs. “This is all 80s tech - it’s built to last. These transistors are comically huge. If you want, I can swap it out for new stuff - might take a little longer, but it’d be, like, credit card sized.”
“Could you really?” says Dirk. “Is this one of those Boring Law things?”
“Whatever’s fastest,” says Farah, before Dirk can fall down another endless hole of knowledge he’ll forget till his next case. “Lydia, do you have everything you need here?”
“Yeah, it’s all at my bench. Give me a sec.”
Lydia takes off towards the workbench Farah set up two months into Lydia’s Belize stay, and the rest of them sit back to wait. Dirk hums something under his breath. Farah goes back to writing on the whiteboard.
“So,” says Tina to Thor, after a moment of silence, “did you two ever…”
“I’ll order a pizza,” says Todd, shooting up.
—
Todd barely gets back off the phone before Lydia returns with the repaired device.
“That’s it?” says Tina, frowning at the cube.
“It’s an ancient artifact of my people,” says Thor.
“Which you sat on,” says Dirk.
“Something I learned from my dad,” says Lydia, “is that sometimes the smallest things cause the most problems. Even when the tech is ancient. Maybe especially then.”
She sets the cube on the table and taps something on the side. A blue glow creeps up the sides. The cube begins to pulse faintly, seeming to draw space in around it. It’s mesmerizing, in an unsettling sort of way.
“...Yeah, I hate that,” says Tina.
Dirk shudders. “Thor, can you…” he says.
Thor places one large hand over the cube, cutting off the hypnotic light. “I shall need a higher vantage point,” he says. “Wait for my signal.” He’s out the door before anyone can say anything else, to possibly everyone’s relief. A second later, there’s a flash of lightning, and a resounding boom of thunder, and everyone jumps as though they’ve been shocked.
“Well!” says Dirk, shaking himself and standing up. “That was… a thing.”
“Wait - that’s it?” says Todd. “We met Thor, and now he’s just… gone?”
“Yes, that’s how he generally operates,” says Dirk over his shoulder. “It’s part of the reason we… well.”
“Part of the reason you what?” says Tina.
“Popcorn, anyone?” says Dirk.
“Popcorn?” says Farah. “Why?”
“Why, for the movie, of course,” says Dirk, then pauses. “Er. I think.”
“No, there was a movie,” says Todd. “Wasn’t there? Something about - um - shit.”
Tina props her legs up on the table. “Hey, Far,” she says, “what’s up with your handwriting today? That whiteboard’s a mess.”
Farah looks at the whiteboard, where a whole square of notes has gotten completely smudged. “...Huh,” she says. “Must’ve slipped.”
“Pizza’s here,” says Lydia from the doorway, where none of them heard a knock.
“Pizza!” exclaims Dirk, and everyone entirely forgets what they were ever worried about.
(And somewhere, deep underground, Loki sighs and logs offline, thwarted again from his latest and nearly successful plan to escape at last.)
#i am SO sorry everyone this came out of nowhere and i haven't proofread it At All and i know i'm like four months behind the bit but#i couldn't NOT write it in fact it wrote itself so. i know i am often like 'this is the stupidest thing i have ever written' but this is#ACTUALLY the stupidest thing i have ever written but it went in directions i Did Not Expect in its short length so i hope u enjoy it too <3#dghda#dghda fic#dirk gently's holistic detective agency#dirk gently#todd brotzman#lydia spring#farah black#tina tevetino#goncharov#my fic#(also for the record this is Sandman Loki who's underground waiting for ragnarok except instead of getting his liver eaten he's#chilling on tumblr which may be an equal amt of torture idk.)
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Now on AO3!
"Hob," Dream called out, in that tone. It was a tone that Hob had learned meant that Dream was confused, utterly and entirely, but he didn't want to admit it. Hob was, as always, more than happy to help. It wasn't often that his lover asked for help and while he couldn't exactly call Dream's odd and often ill-timed questions pleas for help, he knew Dream's understanding of the Waking often depended on his steadfast and reliable answers.
"Yes, love?"
"What is this... Goncharov?"
Hob was suddenly very glad that Dream was lounging on the couch, safely out of sight of the kitchen, where Hob was currently questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. He placed his mug of coffee (thankfully empty enough to have not spilled all over him during his knee-jerk, full-body convulsion of silent laughter at his lover's question) on the counter (to save it from further spillage risks) and, once he had schooled his face as best as he could, popped his head around the corner to glance at Dream, who was engrossed in something on Hob's phone. Scrolling through social media, no doubt, given the topic at hand.
"It's uhh... a movie from the 70's, if I remember correctly," Hob said, as smoothly as possible. "Something about the mafia? It was sort of a cult classic, but I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It had it's little blip of fame and then faded back into obscurity pretty quickly. Why?"
"It has gained something of a resurgence, it seems," Dream mused without looking up, a fact that Hob was eternally grateful for. He wasn't sure his facial expression was even remotely close to anything that could be called innocent. One glance from Dream and the game would be up. "There have been many dreams about it in the past few days. Something about clocks and apples and lit cigarettes. I was simply wondering after your opinion on it."
"Oh, it was Al Pacino in his prime. It came out right before The Godfather, if I remember correctly. God, I haven't heard anything about it in years," Hob lied through his teeth, trying desperately to keep the grin off of his lips and the laughter from bubbling up in his chest. "Might be fun to rewatch it. Like I said, it kind of flopped when it came out; I'm glad that it's getting the attention it deserves, even if it is fifty years too late."
At that, Dream did look up, something like affront in his eyes.
"There is no such thing as too late for a story, Hob," he said, not unkindly. "A story always has time to be told. So long as the story remains, its message persists. The revival of a story is an inevitability in its lifetime; they never die, they simply twist and evolve. That this particular story is garnering such avid, new attention after so long is a comfort."
Well, now Hob felt bad. His playful teases shriveled in the face of such a display of sincerity and emotion from his beloved. It burned through Hob's heart, scorching away the last traces of mirth and leaving only soft love in its wake. It must have shown in his face, in the quirk of his fond smile, in the gentle warmth of his eyes, because Dream set his phone aside and reached a hand out, an invitation and demand all in one, and Hob snorted lightly. You could take the Endless out of the Dreaming, but you couldn't take the Dreaming out of the Endless; he was a King through and through. Luckily for Dream, Hob was as devoted as a knight and he went easily, as if pulled by puppet strings to Dream's side.
---
Later, loose-limbed and buried under a veritable mountain of blankets in Hob's bed and embrace, Dream was back to scrolling. Hob didn't hold it against him--being disconnected from the Waking world for so long must have been disorienting, especially with the technological advances of the twentieth and twenty-first century, and Hob couldn't answer every question his lover had. The internet was by far the better source of niche information and Hob was humble enough to admit it.
He could feel the moment, however, that the internet betrayed him. Dream stiffened in his arms and Hob bit at the inside of his lips to keep from chuckling.
"You are many things, Hob Gadling," Dream said lowly, "but I never took you for a liar."
And then Hob really did laugh. He couldn't help it; it rose in his stomach like champagne bubbles, bursting with tinkling joy. By the time he caught his breath, there were tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and Dream was huffing in laughter next to him.
"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to," Hob gasped, breathless from the hilarity of the situation. "It was just-"
"A meme," Dream said, all traces of anger gone from his voice. "So this Goncharov, it never existed?"
"I'm afraid not."
"That is a shame," Dream mused. "I had found myself quite looking forward to seeing it."
Hob pressed his lips, and with them, his fond smile, to Dream's hair.
"Perhaps you could inspire its creation," he said. "After all, stories must start somewhere, right?"
And if Hob dreamed of a flickering flame igniting two cigarettes, of bloody hands clenched around a gun, of a clock tower in the snow, well... he had always suspected that his sleeping mind was Dream's testing ground. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would reap the benefits of Dream's tests. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, Goncharov would take shape and take hold in someone's mind. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would be able to see Goncharov in all of its revived glory.
But for now, it was merely a dream, a whisper of potential in a collective mind. Perhaps, one day...
#y'all when I tell you I FLEW to my keyboard to write this#the entire goncharov thing is absolutely sending me and I think Hob would have so much fun with the memes#this is so stupid and definitely softer than I intended it to be#but oh well#this is probably riddled with typos#and I’m sorry for inflicting this upon all of you#but not really#it’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever written but I’m oddly proud of it#dream of the endless#morpheus#hob gadling#dreamling#the sandman#sandman netflix#goncharov#unreality
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[ID in alt]
Chapters: 1/?
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warning: None Apply
Fandom: Lego Ninjago, Over the Garden Wall
Characters: Lloyd Garmadon, Zane, Kai, Beatrice, The Woodsman, The Beast
Relationship: Lloyd & Zane, Lloyd & Kai, Kai & Zane, Cole & Lloyd Garmadon & Kai & Nya & Jay Walker & Zane
Word count: 1,509
Summary:
Zane's foot slipped.
Him and Lloyd go on an adventure over the monastery's wall, whether they wanted to or not.
–
ITS FINALLY HEREE WOO
I wrote this a few weeks ago but couldn't post it cuz I got tendonitis and couldn't finish drawing the cover but I finally got it drawn! >:,D
#im so excited for this guys#this is the stupidest thing#i have ever written#and im so happy about it#lego ninjago#over the garden wall#lego ninjago fanfic#zane julien#lloyd garmadon#sunn writing#sunn art#otmw au#don't repost
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Summary: Emmet has found Ingo. Now, he just needs to get him
Fun Fact! It's the one year anniversary of me posting a fic!
#submas#subway boss emmet#subway boss ingo#this is the fuckin stupidest thing i have ever written#dont take that as a bad thing i love this stupid ass fic#i had the second part written out so fast then spend the next like 3 months trying to figure out the first part#then i had other older complete fics that i wanted to get out and since they were older they got to go up first#but now FINALLY i got this up#hope you enjoy!
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Reanimator fandom is there feasting on Herbert West content, while i'm here, Dan Cain enjoyer, starving to death 😔
#like listen i love Herbert as much as everyone else here#i just think that Dan is criminally underrated for a character that is lowkey a heart of these first 2 films?#at least for me ofc#but reanimator movies are kinda like cookie with a dope af frosting#where daniel is a cookie and west is a dope f frosting#without west this film would have been way less enjoyable and memorable#but without cain all your left with is a stomach ache bc who tf eats raw frosting#that was the stupidest thing i have ever written#but whatev#reanimator#bride of reanimator#dan cain#herbert west
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i will allow myself for one moment the opportunity to regret.
to regret that when you made me fragile,
you did not cast me as beautiful also.
at least that way when i shattered into a million pieces,
i would have been content knowing that the world had at last seen me as one who glittered.
i just want to glitter, make me glitter,
tears of murk and soot --
-- clearer than glass but always
duller than mud.
would it kill you to make me glitter?
#stupidest thing i have ever written and yet one of the only things i've actually shared#i am not immune to irony
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Hi
I wrote a thing :)
(A short fic from the point of view of the Stick Shallan tries to soulcast in WoR, and a little bit after, because Shallan accidentally turns it into a groot)
(Kelsier is here too. He's a menace)
#cosmere#stormlight#shay posts#the stormlight archive#stormlight archive#mistborn#mistborn: secret history#kelsier#hoid#shallan davar#khriss and nazh are here too#this is the stupidest and funniest thing i have ever written#i love it sm#shay writes#creative writing#words of radiance#stories i'm proud of
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The thing about superhero critiques is people get really mad when you say superheroes are basically just cops but most Lawful Good superheroes very much function like cops and literally are always just stopping people so the police can come arrest them. Yeah even the ones you like. Yeah even Spiderman. Im sorry
#OBVIOUSLY theres differences but at the end of the day when you have a person whos thing is upholding the law as it is written#what they are gonna do is very similar to cop shit. Alot of heroes Like Spiderman even often have conflict about like#'well theyre breaking the law but I agree!' and alot of the time the conclusion to those stories is#The Law Is More Important#Obviously now in 2023 every superhero is a vigilante type who mostly dont do that but like#its a valid critique people have its always weird to me when people try to get all 'well actually superheroes are inherently leftist-#BECAUSE-' like no theyre not. I think theyre closer to inherently being kind of right leaning then leftist#We need one super strong person to protect us from The Criminals !#Every popular superhero deconstruction besides OG Watchmen being like#the stupidest possible takes ever probably does contribute to peoples hatred of that take. I get it. Read watchmen again with me.
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ever wanted to read about two grown adults arguing over the complexity of made-up tumblr movie goncharov (1973)? of course you dont, but i wrote it anyway, babyyyyyyyyyyyy. link in reblogs.
#this is without a doubt THE stupidest thing i have ever written#ace attorney#april may#redd white#ao3#goncharov
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if you wanted to see albert mason & charles chatenay & arthur morgan get coked out and white girl wasted on opium & cherry cola shots during a fin de siècle party at a high society art salon/lesbian bar in new york city in the midst of a vicious lawsuit over a couple little cowboy pictures (also charles shoots someone with a gun) stick around i guess
#this is the rdr2 fic that will make me quit fanfiction forever#this is the stupidest thing i have EVER written in my LIFE#i look at albert and i just know he can party i know trying to keep up with him would blast the mycobacterium right out of you
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LizardExMachina: the press like reporting on us doing stupid shit
so lets start doing stupid shit
EV: more than usual?
or: rent is due, and Haurchefant can no longer join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. What's a girl to do? Fake some candid paparazzi photos of your superhero best friends and leak them to the trashy online paper he works for, because those hospital bills won't pay themselves. Modern superhero AU.
#gods help me this is one of the stupidest things I have ever written 10/10 me#g'raha being shot down with a ballistic missile SORRY BUDDY#aymeric is a total gremlin and deserves his polycule lets be honest#sussiluna piao#wol#warrior of light#ffxiv#ff14#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy 14#urithan#estimeric
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why are you pregaming, we’re going to a baby shower??
#this is the stupidest thing I've ever written I made this post two years ago and never posted it because I didn't have time to tag it#I had this thought in the middle of math class and quickly jotted it down in passing period so I wouldn't forget it#I thought it was the funniest shit#shit post#shitpost#comedy#fucking ridiculous#and honestly I'm ashamed to say I do still think this is mildly funny#moth's chatter
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Geoff Johns has no goddamn idea how to write characters falling in love and I hate him I hate this this is not how people act what the fuck
#I WANT TO BITE THINGS THIS IS THE STUPIDEST THING EVER#NOBODY'S IN LOVE WITH ANYBODY YOU HAVE KNOWN EACHOTHER FOR THREE MONTHS AND HAVE INTERACTED A HANDFUL OF TIMES#THAT'S NOT HOW LOVE WORKS DUMBASS#WHERE'S THE TRUST? THE YEARNING? THE LEARNING ABOUT WHAT MAKES HER LAUGH?#WITHOUT THE TIME AND THE WORK IT'S JUST INFATUATION AND THIS GUY IS _ALSO_ AT LEAST A DECADE OLDER THAN KENDRA#GOD THIS POOR GIRL#CAN PEOPLE STOP CREEPING ON HER FOR FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES#Edit: okay three pages later this second guy is being painted as the disgusting creep that he is#but smart money says he's only in this story to make carter seem like less of a creep by comparison#and if you have to do THAT then MAYBE YOU OUGHTA REASESS WHAT YOU'VE WRITTEN
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REDDD ‼️ MAJOR CONGRATS FOR YOUR MILESTONE YOU DESERVE IT AHHHH
may i request 1 & 7 from the general dialogue prompts with spencer reid please 🥹🫶
SENDING YOU KISSES ☝️🤭😚 XOXO
POOL ‘PARTY’ [CLIMACTERIC]
/pul ˈpɑːrti/
1. “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”
7. “I don’t want anyone else.”
WARNINGS: based on 01x18, minor lila slander, spencer thinking of someone else whilst making out with lila, arguing
spencer reid x gn!reader || flangst || 1.9k Il climacteric event!!
a/n: THANK YOU ML <3333 enjoy me dabbling back into my angst game again, with a happy ending ofc 🫶
main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ event masterlist!!
You approach Spencer with a raised eyebrow and a click of your tongue, eyes scanning over Spencer’s completely soaked appearance.
His eyes turn to you widened in surprise, but his expression quickly morphs into guilt as he meets your eyes. “I uh- fell in,”
“I’m sure there are plenty of photos of you ‘falling in’,” Your eyes narrow with a scoff, and you cross your arms over your chest in very clear disappointment at his recklessness.
“I- It really wasn’t meant to happen I swear-” You cut off Spencer’s attempt at an explanation by shoving a beach towel against his torso, and he lets out a small groan from the force.
“You have to be the stupidest person i’ve ever met.” Spencer flinches at your tone, hands wringing at the towel as he lowers his head.
He supposes he deserves the scolding, he’d broken so many rules of professionalism and put Lila’s life in danger.
The worst part was that he didn’t even enjoy it.
He’d ruined everything and didn’t even enjoy what he was risking everything for.
He truly was an idiot.
“I’m sorry-”
“I don’t want your apology.” You cut him off with a hand raised in his direction. “If you want to apologise to someone, apologise to Lila, because you won’t be seeing her for the rest of the case.”
Lila’s name is dripping with venom as it rolls off your tongue, and Spencer presses his lips into a tight line with a small nod in your direction.
It’s a proportional punishment, but it’s not like he wanted to see her again anyway. Even the thought of what he’d done made him want to punch himself.
“I really didn’t-” He stops himself this time, knowing that you don’t want to hear his excuses. “I’ll… go change now…”
“There’s clothes in the SUV.” He sighs dejectedly at the coyness in your tone, and he swears he’ll cry if you keep this up.
“Right…” He gives you a soft nod, and you have half the mind to feel bad about the way you’re treating him, but for some reason the image of the two of them in the pool together fills you with some unforeseen, insurmountable rage that you can’t seem to suppress.
After he’s changed and dry, he reapproaches the front of the house cautiously. He knows that he probably won’t be allowed back inside, but he also doesn’t want to hang around the SUV looking like an idiot, he’d made himself a big enough one already.
You’re the only one still outside, standing with your arms crossed with your eyes following his movements through your narrowed gaze.
You were still angry with him. Great.
He didn’t want you to be angry with him. That was the last thing he ever wanted.
“I…” Spencer exhales softly as he comes up short on something to say. You didn’t want him to apologise. You didn’t want him to explain himself. What was he supposed to say?
You answer his question for him with one of your own. “Was it worth it?”
He flickers his eyes towards yours, guilt and regret written all over his features. “No…”
“Didn’t think so.”
Spencer can feel the tears prick at his eyes as your tone continues to wash over him like an ice-cold shower, and he takes a shuddered breath in through his mouth, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly to keep his gaze clear.
“I didn’t want to… I didn’t even enjoy it…” He frowns through glassy eyes and you crumble almost immediately. How are you supposed to be angry at him when he looks like that?
“Why did you do it?” Your voice is considerably softer this time, and as much as Spencer is grateful for it, it doesn’t stop a single tear from trickling down his face.
“I don’t know-” He sighs heavily as he wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, running his other hand through the still damp mess of his hair.
He did know.
Kind of anyway.
He’d always prided himself on having a vivid imagination, one that he had been using during what happened with Lila.
And you could read his dishonesty immediately.
“Spencer.”
He knew he’d been caught. “I don’t want to talk about it,”
He crosses his arms over his chest defensively as he evades eye contact with you.
“Spencer.” You were going to get to the bottom of his reasoning behind breaking one of the cardinal rules of being an FBI agent.
“I was imagining that she was someone else okay?” He raises his voice slightly in his defensiveness, and you have to take a second to actually soak in his sentence and the implications of it.
“You- What?” You can do nothing but stare at him in a state of absolute shock at his confession.
“I was imagining that I was kissing somebody else…” He repeats his statement with much less vigour the second time around, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Does she know that?” You raise an eyebrow slightly as you ask your question. God knows you wouldn’t want to be kissing someone only to find out that they were thinking about somebody else the entire time.
“We had an argument about it before you guys turned up…”
So she did know. That made it a little better at least.
“So who was it then?”
Spencer turned his eyes back to yours again with a surprised expression. “What?-”
“Who were you thinking about?” You’re not sure exactly why you want to know who Spencer was thinking about during his little ‘pool party’, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be satisfied with whatever answer you gave him, but some twisted part of your mind felt the need to know.
“I-” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. “You don’t need to know that,”
“Why not?” You furrow your eyebrows as his defensiveness escalates again. “What’s there to hide?”
“Maybe I just don’t want my personal life being aired to the people I work with?” He mirrors your expression with his own as he rubs his hands up and down his arms.
“Fine, keep your secrets then,” you say, a hint of frustration in your voice. “But just know, you can't keep messing up like this. It's not just about you.”
"I know that," he returns your frustration with his own. “But who I’m interested in is nobody’s business except my own.”
“Why are you so defensive about this?”
“Why do you want to know who it is so badly?”
The tension crackles between you two, each word adding fuel to the fire of the argument.
“Because,” you retort sharply, “I need to know if I can trust you. If your mind is somewhere else when you're supposed to be focused on the mission, it puts everyone at risk,”
Was that the real reasoning behind why you wanted to know so badly? No. But you didn’t exactly know what was.
Spencer's jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You think I don't take this seriously? You think I don't care about the mission?”
“I don't know what to think anymore,” you admit, your voice softer now, but no less charged with emotion. “All I know is that you've been acting recklessly, and I can't afford to have that kind of distraction.”
“I'm not distracted,” Spencer protests, his voice tinged with desperation.
“You just verbally admitted to thinking about somebody else whilst making out with someone, that’s not distracted?” You gesture outwards exasperatedly. “We can’t be sure that you’ve got the right head in the game unless you say who you were thinking about.”
“It was you okay?” Spencer’s voice raises again as he throws out his arms in frustration. “Happy?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to decide if you were happy.
You barely computed his answer in the first place. Were you happy that it was you? Was that the reason you pressed him so hard?
What on earth was happening?
“What-”
“Okay yeah, maybe I have a crush on you, so what?” Spencer continued to verbalise his defensiveness in exasperation. “It’s not like it was ever going to go anywhere.”
“You were thinking about me?” You still haven’t fully comprehended his confession yet, and Spencer mistakes your slowness for sarcasm.
“Yes. I was thinking about you. There’s no need to rub it in my face.” Spencer's frustration is palpable, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rests upon them.
But beneath the frustration, there's a vulnerability, a rawness that tugs at your heartstrings.
You realise then that this argument, this tension between you, it's not just about the mission or the case—it's about something deeper, something you've both been trying to ignore or brush aside.
"I'm not trying to rub it in your face," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... trying to understand."
“I mean-” You fumble over your sentences as you try to make sense of everything. “Why would you kiss somebody else? Why would you imagine it was me whilst you did it? I just- I don’t get it,”
“I don’t want anybody else. I never wanted anybody else. But what was I supposed to do?” Spencer sighs as he takes his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me?”
“And have you rip me to pieces? I’d rather spend my whole life as just your friend than risk something like that-” He doesn’t have the chance to finish his sentence.
Your lips press against his hard, your hand anchored at the side of his neck as you take what you deem a reasonable action to get him to just stop talking for a second.
In your defence, it does work, all of Spencer’s frustration dying on his tongue as he slowly starts to reciprocate, his hands half-hesitantly coming up to cup your face so that he wouldn’t lose the contact with you even if you tried to pull away, which of course, you weren’t going to do unless strictly necessary.
He finally didn’t have to imagine what your lips would taste like anymore, and he wasn’t going to let the moment end before he got his fill of you.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#mgg#climacteric 🪶
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