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#i just cannot see him taking to being called 'boy' or 'brat'
itsabardknocklife · 8 months
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Going into the Rolan tag is always such an experience for me, because I often get the feeling I'm the only person picking up Dom vibes from him.
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n3ptoonz · 10 months
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mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react when you ride them
this broadcast is brought to you by getting inspired from @dirtymortalkombatconfessions tysm for fueling my raunchy mind 🙏🏾 outworld guys here
all the guys here are submissive in these hcs cause i don't see it enough!!! and reader is GN
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Smoke
first of all it's his favorite position. nothing he loves more than holding his partner in his arms while they have power over him at the same time
HE. WHIMPERS. A LOT!!!!
CANNOT keep his hands still he's always massaging or caressing some part of your body
begs. he begs. if you stop moving? he will deadass start tearing up and whispering pleas all in your ear
hold his face while you do it. look him in the eyes and give him praise && give him kisses 😔 he's got enough shit from bi han and this the only way he properly relaxes 💔
Raiden
he's not very vocal at first, but he does sigh and grunt a lot
when he's vocal? he's not loud, but curses up a storm. his eyes get all hazy and glossed over too like you gotta tap him back to reality sometimes
he can get handsy but prefers to either keep his hands in place or have them restrained in some way
speaking of which if you do restrain his hands there's a good chance he'll start bucking once he's close and try to pull free. silly goose, we know how to tie knots around here!
if you get really close to his face like holding it or just looking at him he can and will just start mumbling about how good you make him feel/how you're the only one who makes him feel like this
Kung Lao
(turns on self indulgence beam) ahem taps mic is this thing on??
lao is a praise kink BITCH you understand??? and since he's full of himself he for sure will not shy away from whimpering and groaning loud as hell just to hear his own voice
you give him praise and BOOM suddenly it's upturned eyebrows and beads of tears at the corners of his eyes. he will ask you to repeat what you said over and over
once his pride wears out he's a begging mess like smoke. he's super handsy but in the way where he's acting like you're gonna disappear before he nuts. i cracking up at the thought of that
afterwords "did i do good?" or "was i a good boy?" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHG hey im normal don't give me that look. ALSO PLAY WITH HIS HAIR he's a sucker for it (glad i can say that now he's not bald)(love you mk11 lao i swear)
Kenshi Takahashi
oooo this sensual romantic ass man. sensual romantic ASS man (he likes ass)
he's not a loud guy or it's just rare. his hands aren't gonna go anywhere but your ass though. MAYBE your thighs, but it's always back to ass!
less on whimpering more on grunting but there's occasional cracks in his voice when feels really good. he only full on whimpers if you go fast and gets closer faster from the pace
please for the love of god leave some sort of marks on this man's neck. it drives him CRAZYYYY he'll be cursing like he's never done before especially cause he WILL return the favor
like raiden if you give his face more love especially around his eyes it's up for him you're going to be told how perfect and how good only you can make him feel for the next 72 hours
Johnny Cage
BRAT. he's a brat. Johnny John Carlton Cage is a B R A T
you will have to physically shut him up and that was his mission accomplished. don't let his hands be free either cause he'll keep trying to take control (and keep failing every single time)(again, this was allll part of the plan)
when he's completely helpless at your disposal...bottom bitch alert! whiny whimpering grunting sighing giggling you name it CENTRAL. he the type to whine about being restricted when it was literally his own idea in the first place
he's a praise kink bitch too i mean come on THE johnny cage ik you weren't expecting otherwise. tell him he's a good boy but also call him your bitch oh how he loves it
and by the way... record. everything. he'll watch those tapes back like they're old school vhs memories
Liu Kang
how you got a god to submit to you is beyond anyone's belief. but who cares?! drain that mf (balls)
he absolutely positively loves loves LOVES eye contact. you look him in the eyes long enough it's like your souls are fuckin too (literally that scene with him and titan kitana except you're looking down at him everybodyshutthefuckup)
give him a bunch of kisses pls pls pls he craves it he adores it CARNALLY. very very handsy man there's no part of you that goes untouched.
he's too calm to be loud but he does grunt and will have dragged out moans that result in a higher pitched tone
surprise, even a god could use some praise every now and then!!! he blushes the most whenever you call him perfect or tell him he's doing great even with all that's on his plate on the daily <3
Sub Zero
this stubborn fucker. just pull his hair and give him the same look he gives everybody and he's all yours cause then he'll look like this (i cannot stop referring to this picture)
in the privacy of your shared room (idc if this is ooc this is tumblr god damn it) he's a stuttering mess and cannot keep his hands off your hips and thighs for anything so prepare for those areas to have frostbite
there are times where his hands slide up your back when he's close, and by this time his furrowed brows and sharp gaze are completely gone. he's looking up at you like you've descended just to give him the ride of his life (bc you did obviously)
if he whimpers it's raspy and deep. he generally grunts and groans and a lot of profane language coming from them lips
however comma it's rare he'll shudder and whine like a lil bitch if he can't touch you oooo and he's a bucker too
Scorpion
last but certainly not least this sexy mf. i fully fully believe that he would not hesitate to submit to someone he's in love with (you hahaha)
you don't even need to pull his hair just glide your fingers through it he's set for life. he sighs and just smiles, you're so good to him
he's not very vocal but he certainly whines and has shallower breaths when he's close. when he looks up at you he has to try his hardest not to bust right there cause damnnn you fine as hail
thigh man thigh man thigh man. oh, did i say thigh man? i meant to say HE'S A THIGH MAN. and neck, like kenshi don't even think about getting up off of him without a bunch of marks on his neck and shoulders if ya feelin freekie
if you pull his hair he will cum. and you heard that from me.
ask box is open! <3
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januaryembrs · 4 months
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LET IT ONCE BE ME | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [7]
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Description: The THREE times she waits + the ONE time she doesn't have to.
length: 17.9k
trigger warnings: criminal minds gore + violence. jealousy. talks of sex and male and female anatomy. they get horny for one another basically. talks of Maeve + day of the dead. yearning idk? mention of one twin absorbing the other one in the womb (sorry if this is taken the wrong way but I conferred with my friend who did this when she was a foetus and she said it's not offensive and is okay to talk about so?)
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‘Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to 
About if they can redo the prophecy?’
The one where they pretend to be married
“I will not be exploited in my own home,” Bugsy chided, the faint smell of burning toast filling the small kitchenette. The butter knife sat ready in her hand, salted spread dripping down the handle where she’d been busy making breakfast before she had been called. 
He blinked back at her, unamused. 
“No. You cannot just scream at me whenever you want something from me. This relationship is toxic,” She huffed, turning back to butter her toast with the thick goodness. Sometimes she loathed living with three boys who had her wrapped around their fingers. 
The second piece of bread popped out of the toaster, which she quickly grabbed and began spreading, her fingers gripping onto the crusts gently as she did so. The squealing started again just as she readied herself to take the first bite, and she whirled around to see the two orange eyes that stared at her from on top of the counter. 
“Sergio, stop. You’ll get Niko all wound up-” She hadn’t even finished her sentence when Spencer shuffled into the kitchen, his hair mussed from sleep, his long plaid pyjama bottoms skirting high up his ankles where he’d impossibly hit another growth spurt and forgot to find better fitting clothes. Niko darted in between his legs, rushing to jump up on the breakfast bar, where Sergio was already interrogating Bugsy for more treats, a low yowl leaving his throat at the thought of being left out of feeding. “You boys are driving me crazy, no more biscuits for today-”
The yowl grew in decibels, a second one symphonying it, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring the whiney babies, turning to hand Spencer his piece of toast, crust already cut off and split into halves the way he liked it. 
“I warned you not to treat them when I’m not here, they’ve become spoiled brats,” She huffed, though she felt her entire body warm up when she looked at his doe eyes, still half idled with sleep as he watched her swan around his kitchen, their kitchen technically since she had all but moved in to his little apartment meant for two housemates. 
But they weren’t just house mates. They weren’t even dating. But she knew he wanted to. Because he loved her. 
“How could you expect me to say no, they’re so compelling,” He said, his voice gravelly where he’d lightly snored, as much as he always denied he did, fussing Niko behind the ear with long, gentle fingers. He took the plate out of her hand, his eyes swirling with a moved expression when he saw she’d cut his crusts off, his gaze snapping back up to where she’d sweeped her hair out her face, a large shirt and a pair of his clean boxers adorning her figure, “Thankyou,”
He hadn’t said the three magic words since, neither of them had. But they felt it. The weird static that had been thick in the air between them before was crackling along their skin with every glance, like they were both thinking the same thing.
I love you, and you love me.
He smiled at her warmly, the urge to grab her by her face and kiss her skin all over almost overwhelming him, because he counted himself lucky every single day. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. He heard it in every heart beat, like a mantra that his chest clung to since the words had spilled from her soft lips. She was waiting for him, for his head to settle with the idea that Maeve was gone, and he could let her go and not feel terrible about it; waiting for him to make the first move. 
“Coffee?” He asked, watching her eyes soften as they trailed over his face, and he worried he looked a little worse for wear since he’d rolled out of bed and headed towards the source of the girl he loved arguing with someone in the kitchen even though that someone had turned out to be the greedy bastard they loved dearly.
He knew he was the luckiest guy in the world to have her waiting on him, and he never let himself forget it. 
“Yes, please,” She said, and he brushed past her, close enough for it to be on purpose when their arms touched, his hands busying themselves in between the plate and munching on the first bite of breakfast, because he didn’t know what he might do if they spent one more second looking at one another like that. 
She watched him move towards the kettle she’d sent him for Christmas when she was in London. After using one for two weeks she’d seen the light and realised he would love the nifty little invention. Her arm burned where he’d touched as if he’d taken a flame to her skin, her chest boiling up with every single thing she could think to tell him, like how good his hair looked when he didn’t do much with it, or how hot his voice sounded like that, or that she really really did love him the way she’d never even thought possible outside her silly romance novels, that she’d never believed Pip when he’d told Estella; “You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read,” and yet when she thought of it now, watching Spencer busy himself shovelling sugar into two mugs, it made entire perfect sense. 
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew him, and she didn’t ever want to know. 
She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps to say those three little words again, or just to tell him he smelled good even when he hadn’t put any deodorant or aftershave on, but her phone’s ringtone cut her off. 
Already knowing it was going to be Penelope with a new case, she flicked the call on to speaker phone, “What you got for me, baby girl?” She said, trying to make her voice as deep as it would go, and she heard Spencer snickering where he was stirring hot water into the instant coffee.
“Was that supposed to be Morgan?” Pen’s voice replied, a small chuckle of her own evident even through the digital tone.
“I thought that was pretty good,” Bugsy replied, stuffing the last of the toasted bread into her mouth.
“I thought he was right in the room with us for a moment there,” Spencer chimed in, humouring her, as he also took an enormous bite from his breakfast, knowing they were more than likely about to be called in and their game of house, one where they flustered every time they spoke, was going to be over, “I was like, woah, Morgan, when did you get here-”
“Alright, my little rascals. We have a case, Hotch wants everyone in,” Penelope said, no doubt already paging through JJ, “No more coffee for either of you, you’re both being weird enough as it is,” 
“Definitely not,” Spencer said, sliding the mug of milky, sweet caffeine over to Bugsy who smiled at him wickedly.
“Wheels up in twenty, Garcia,” The woman added in the same voice as before, Spencer laughing with a shake of his head and moving to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm winding around her waist to give her a small, affectionate squeeze on the hip. 
Penelope sighed, already accepting that their mercurial attitudes weren’t going away any time soon, the sudden mood change entirely odd to the rest of the team who had no idea that they had almost kissed just one week ago. To everyone else, they just seemed to have bounced back to normal, reverted back to Bugsy and Spencer; attached at the hip, only the eye contact and secretive smiles had been dialled to a hundred. The line went dead, and her head shot to look at him, where his hand had yet to move, and it was scoldingly hot against the soft fat that gathered at her hips.
“I’ll get your good shirt, I put it out to dry yesterday,” She said, her voice suddenly much less brave than it had been when she saw his eyes crinkling with a small smile. 
He nodded, and she caught his gaze trailing down her nose, darting over her lips for a second in a way that made her chest rev like a Ferrarri out of gear. She felt her breath catch in her throat when he looked back up to her eyes, his forest hues entrancing like he was playing some silent flute song and she was a snake dancing under his orders. 
He took a second to realise they were standing in his kitchen, his body pressed against hers like he hadn’t even realised they were so close, like he’d just gravitated to her that way, like he couldn’t stop it even if he’d tried to. He’d had a taste of nectar, and he was a drunk man ever since. 
Spencer wrangled a hold of himself, allowing himself to stroke the back of her head lovingly, and pressing a kiss to her crown, before he stepped away from her, and the siren song dropped, the two of them dispersing to get ready for the case. 
Bugsy swore she could hear her heart pounding the entire drive to headquarters.
“I think the real question is why married couples?” Hotch mused, a steaming cup of black coffee sitting in front of him on the jet, his nose in the file on his lap. 
Bugsy scanned over the manilla folder in her hands, her legs swinging rhythmically beneath the table she sat on, Rossi to her left, her own second cup of coffee squeezed between her thighs. It was a heavy case for a weekend morning, three married couples found slashed and dumped together, the UnSub showing no signs of slowing or stopping.
“If he’s a sadist, having a witness to his torture heightens his pleasure,” Alex added, her lips pursed in contemplation, her hair primped surprisingly neat considering they’d been called in with little to no notice on a Sunday. 
“Israel Keyes kidnapped a husband and wife at gunpoint, got them in a car, took them to a remote location, and then killed the husband in front of the wife,” Spencer said, trying not to look straight at Bugsy when he felt her eyes on him.
He’d never been one to keep a good poker face, never been good at hiding how he felt especially when he was happy. And she made him happier than he deserved to be. He knew their little arrangement would become glaringly obvious to the rest of the team if he let himself look at her. he had no control of his face when it came to her, how he felt his eyes soften, his lips turn up into a dopey smile, his hands itching to touch her just to confirm she was real.
He saw her head tilt down, into her lap as she tried desperately to focus on the words on the page, but he caught the small smile that she kept for herself, and he had a feeling she was struggling just as much as he was. 
“Keyes was a sexual sadist, though,” Rossi interjected, his hands wrapped around a scolding cup of the green tea Penelope had bought them because she’d read of the stress relief benefits. They’d taken it, but David and Bugsy were the only ones who had tried it, “This guy, I don’t know,” 
“Cutting a husband and wife to death, it’s more like he’s mocking their marriage bond,” JJ said, her bluebell hues dancing to Bugsy when the girl chimed in.
“Mutilating both of them, killing them together, it’s like the idea of couples and happy marriage is a trigger for him; it’s personal. He wants to make them pay for their happiness, likely because something’s stopping him from having it too,” She said, taking a long sip of her coffee, Rossi nodding along with her. 
“That’s where my head’s at. ‘You took each other for better or worse, now I’m going to show you worse’,” He said, leaning back against the table, his shoulder nudging the younger girl. 
Derek stroked a hand over his stubbled beard, “His home life’s probably a wreck, at least one ex-wife, not to mention mom and dad,”  
“Alright we need to hit the ground,” Hotch said, flicking a glance at the youngest agent where she was all but inhaling her sweet beverage, “Prentiss and Reid, I want you mapping out a geographical profile,”
She nodded, her eyes slowly trailing to Spencer’s as Hotch distributed jobs around the team, but her head subconsciously tuned his stern voice out into static. Because when she looked up at his face, he was already staring at her, and the sound of her heartbeat racing crawled its way back into her ear, the thrumming so loud she was sure David could hear it too, she might as well have held a megaphone to her mouth and announced “Spencer Reid, you make me so nervous in the good kind of way,”
His hazel eyes trailed over her face, her expression unreadable as she scrambled to keep a lid on her feelings, and she wondered if this was where the phrase ‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ came from, because him so much as looking at her wiped her mind completely, which was not ideal for an agent working on a case. But she couldn’t help it, he was enchanting, and she guessed he was having just as much of an inner quarrel as he looked away from her, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his earlobes turning a strawberry ice cream pink. 
She had no idea how she was going to make it through the rest of the day so close to him. 
“First couple were last seen on the corner of Hill Avenue, Bella Mia Italian restaurant,” Bugsy read from her scrawled notes, as Spencer took a purple white board pen to the map of Detroit. Drawing a circle of a 5 centimetre radius around the little dot, he kept his eyes ahead of him. Hearing her pace behind him, he didn’t need to look up to know she was chewing her cuticles again. 
“Stop biting,” He chided lightly, hearing a guilty silence where he knew she’d caught herself with embarrassment. He tried not to show his amusement, knowing it would only make her feel worse, he bit down a smirk and raised his pen back to the map, “Next one?” 
She’d been on edge all day. He would have probably brushed it off as caffeine jitters seeing as she was on her fourth cup already, but Spencer knew her too well to know her tolerance was so high she had about two more mugs in her before she’d start to crash. 
He knew what it was, the memory of her skin beneath his lips burning his cheeks all over again, the look in her eyes when he’d been close enough they were sharing breath. He knew what it was because he felt it too. It was like their confession had set off a ticking time bomb, one that neither of them had the countdown to, and the clicking of every passing second sounded oddly like a pulse in their throats. To put it short, just the sound of her footsteps was making his skin pimpled with gooseflesh. 
“Uh, next one is Bowlarama, about ten stores down from there, Couple number two were seen getting milkshakes and heading towards the parking lot before they went missing,” She recited, her fingers firmly clutching the paper in her hand to resist the urge of gnawing at her nails again. Why was she so nervous? She lived with Spencer, ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Spencer, spent almost all her evenings either playing chess or watching movies with Spencer, or on the odd occasion he found a book in reach he hadn’t read yet, he’d read out parts to her he found particularly engaging to those million, trillion, billion neurological pathways of his. 
The squealing of the pen against the board was the only thing keeping her head in the case, Spencer’s messy handwriting dotting around the map with points of interest, and she begged her brain to kick into gear the way it normally did, tried everything to yank herself out of the head fog she’d found herself lost in where thoughts of him emerged through like Mr Darcy strolling through those clouded moors, like how his voice sounded when he smiled, how his hand looked gripping that pen, how his body was lithe and handsome even from the back. 
She shook her head, jamming her face back into her files, to the gory images of couple number three, mutilated and bloody, and reminded herself she had a job to do. 
Get it together, Prentiss.
“Couple number three’s last known location was on the corner of Whittier Avenue, outside a wine bar named Blue Mates,” Bugsy read out, hoping her hot cheeks would dissipate before he noticed, “It seems couples out on date night really agitate this guy,” 
Spencer hummed, focused on his third circle, the three of them overlapping with almost precise measurements. It was hard not to notice the pattern to them. He heard her draw nearer with his profile complete, and they stood beside one another, so close they knocked hands when they leaned in to take a closer look at the rings.
“He hits the same street of stores every time, one after another,” Spencer said, his long forefinger trailing down the strip of shops and bars the UnSub seemed to have a taste for, “I mean, excluding retail and supermarkets, since they’re unlikely spots for a husband and wife to go out on a date, the pattern is really quite linear where he hits next,” 
Gently taking the pen out of his hands, Bugsy leaned up to colour in every single store that would be considered retail, crossing out a pet shop or two, leaving only the cafes, bars, restaurants, even a cinema. And sure enough, the three spots the victims had been last seen lined up perfectly as the first three ‘date night’ locations on the strip, the next being a steak restaurant named The Greasy Grill. 
“How much do you want to bet our UnSub is getting a craving for Sirloin right about now?” Bugsy said, putting the pen down onto the table and they exchanged a look of accomplishment, just as Hotch walked in with the Chief of Detroit police. 
“What did you find?” Hotch asked, his eyes falling to the asterisks drawn on the whiteboard, the rest of the known locations Penelope had sent dotted around the map. 
“Date night is very important to this UnSub,” Spencer said, the two of them turning to their boss, his shoulder bumping hers, and it was only then she’d realised she was all but pressing up into his side. 
“He goes on dates?” The chief of police asked, his brows furrowed. Taking a step away, her eyes darting to the map as a means of distracting herself, she pointed to the ink marks they’d squiggled on the paper.
“No, but the victims do and he knows that,” She explained, tracing a chewed fingertip down the street, “The UnSub hit here first, where our first couple went out for pizza. He then moved down here where the second victims had their date night in a bowling alley, and onto our newest victims, they were last seen having wine here, each kidnapping site along the same strip with the next possible location being right here,” She said, her finger slapping against the Greasy Grill, Hotch nodding in thought as the Chief got on the phone with his own team. 
“Good work, you two,” Hotch hummed, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Bugsy’s phone began to ring.
Snatching it out of her pocket, she caught sight of Alex’s name before swiping to answer, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?” 
“Fourth victim has just been found dumped in a car.” The woman said immediately, and Bugsy switched her mobile to speaker so the other two could hear her. Turning on her heels to face the white board, she grabbed the pen resting on the table beside her, yanking the lid off with her teeth.
“Where?” She asked, Spencer picking the plastic from between her lips to help her communicate, her eyes focused on the road names as she waited for Alex’s response. 
“Back alley between Warren and Forest Avenue, one woman found alone in a white Buick,” Alex said, and all three of their faces scrunched in confusion as she said it. 
“He’s changed his victimology,” Spencer murmured and Bugsy nodded, her lips pressed in a flat line, “Alex, is the woman married at least, or has the UnSub completely altered his preference?”
“We have her husband here right now,” Alex confirmed, and Hotch stepped over to where the two geniuses inspected the map, “He said he missed a dinner reservation they had two nights ago at a restaurant called-”
“The Greasy Grill?” Spencer and Bugsy spoke synchronously, and Alex paused audibly. 
“I take it you two have figured out his pattern already?” She asked, though she didn’t sound all too surprised. 
“See if the husband knows anything else, Blake. We’re going to figure out the next location that fits the pattern,” Hotch ordered, and they bid each other goodbye, as Bugsy and Spencer were already coordinating which plots of land were retail stores. 
By the time the line went dead, there was a big red mark circling a mini golf course slash cocktail bar, and the duo looked at him expectantly. 
“If the UnSub keeps his victims for around three days at a time, and the woman was found this morning, my guess is he’s going to head there tonight,” Bugsy said, capping the pen and dropping it back onto the desk, feeling Spencer nodding behind her, “And if the victim was supposed to be at the restaurant with her husband, it means he’s still looking for couples, he just happened to get unlucky. He’s going to want another happy-go-lucky husband and wife pairing,” 
Hotch’s face became unreadable for a moment, his gaze switching between the two of them, like he was assessing the risk factor of sending his two youngest agents undercover for the second time. But they seemed to have worked together seamlessly the first time, in that casino, so he didn’t see the qualms about asking them to work the same act this time.
“What?” Bugsy asked, the look in his eye unnerving her, and she flicked a glance behind her at Spencer’s equally lost expression, turning back to see Hotch dialling Dave’s number to update him on their plan, “Hotch, what is it?”
“He wants a happy couple,” Hotch said, his phone already up to his ear as he eyed the little to zero space between the two agents who swore blind they were just friends, “We’re going to give him one,” 
She had to admit, this was a little nicer than the red dress she’d been stuffed into last time. The sundress was flowy enough she could hide her gun strapped to her hip, and still compliment her figure nicely enough that she couldn’t complain. And best of all, it meant she could wear her ballet pumps instead of those god awful stilettos she’d pulled out last time they were undercover. 
She still remembered that evening in the casino, watching Spencer’s big brain tick faster than she’d thought possible even for him. The briefing of this even seemed much more relaxed, seeing as their aim was to look like the happiest couple alive. ‘You worry about playing your parts, we’ll worry about playing ours,’; was what Alex had said when she’d brought in a dress about Bugsy’s size, the woman already styling her hair to look like she was really going on a date. 
Because she was, sort of, not really, going on a date with Spencer. Except none of it was real, like someone up there had to have one final laugh at her luck, like that carrot on a string she’d been waiting patiently for the past week was looking a lot more delicious by the second as it dangled in front of her.  
There was a knock on the small hotel room Hotch had booked them in for the evening, seeing as they were going to be scoping out the area until late, and Bugsy headed for the door without pause, thinking it was JJ returning with the fake wedding rings they’d gotten from a cheap jewellers down the street. 
She swung the door open, only to be greeted by two dark eyes looking at her done up face, her primped hair, her floral dress. 
“Spence,” She said, picking over every inch of him, breathless already, because she always thought he looked hot in a button down shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, “You look-”
“You look beautiful,” He rushed, like he might just burst if he held it in any longer, and she smiled sheepishly, her face flooding with heat all over again. Damn you, Reid, with your stupid charm and ridiculously good looking lips.
“You look beautiful too,” She complimented, noticing a gold band on his finger then and she realised he had something in his palm, “You run into JJ already?” 
He nodded, smiling with a stammered breath, “Yeah, I said I’d come check if you were ready. Hotch and Dave are already there scoping out the bar,” 
She simpered under the weight of his nervousness, “Well, I’m ready,” Holding out her left hand, she raised her ring finger, “Marry me, pretty boy,” 
He snickered, shaking his head at her clear diversion from the stifling tension in the air, and held her hand in his delicately, his skin warm as it encompassed hers entirely, and he was careful to slip the false engagement ring over her digits, following it with a gold band of her own. 
“You ready to get your ass kicked at miniature golf whilst our friends catch a criminal, Mr Reid?” She asked, and he had yet to let go of her hand as she shut the door behind her, slipping her hotel room key into her purse. 
“That’s a bold statement from such a sore loser, Mrs Reid,” He said back, a smile so wide he thought he might burst a vessel as she laughed, and tightened her fingers around his, interlacing them just like she had done a handful of times before, and his chest crackled with white hot excitement when she knocked her shoulder into his side in affection. 
His lips scorched with the words Mrs Reid the entire drive to the bar. 
“Any eyes on him, yet?” Bugsy whispered to the women in the stalls, touching up her lipstick as JJ and Alex hid in the women’s bathroom for the signal. 
“Not yet,” Blake said, sitting on the closed toilet seat in her kevlar and jacket, all but twiddling her thumbs and wishing she’d brought a sudoku, “Are you guys having fun at least?”
“Pretending to be married to my best friend while a serial killer eyes up my guts for the taking; yeah I’m peachy,” Bugsy replied, rubbing her lips together and making sure her gun was still strapped tight to her hip, “Besides, he really is kicking my ass at golf,”
“He’s going to let you win anyway, you know that right?” JJ said, tucking her feet up onto the seat in her own stall in case anyone who wasn’t on their team came in to the bathroom, “He always lets you win because he knows it makes you happy,”
Bugsy paused, the tissue that was collecting rogue lipstick smudges from her face almost falling in the sink, and she was quick to gather her voice with a clear of her throat.
“Maybe I just win because I’m good, Jennifer,” She said, a lilt of teasing in her tone, binning the scrap tissue paper and heading for the door, “Keep an eye out, kiddos. I’m going back in,”
They chirped a goodbye, the two of them sighing as they waited for Hotch’s message, and Bugsy walked back out to where Spencer was waiting by Hole Seven. It was a classic windmill on top of a hill, a small tunnel where the door was supposed to be leading to a lower level behind the plastic decor, where the hole lay waiting for them. 
“You ready, honey?” He said, holding out a purple putter they’d chosen at the start of the course, and she smiled genuinely at him. She had been telling somewhat of a lie when she’d been so unenthusiastic in the bathroom, though she thought telling the women just how much fun she was having being married to Spencer might just rub salt in the wound considering they were bored stiff sat in the bathroom.
That and she wanted to keep whatever it was they were feeling theirs and only theirs for just a little bit longer. 
“Ready, my love,” She sang in response and let him go first. He had to lean over a fair bit seeing as he was so tall he made everything on the course look particularly miniature, including the putter that seemed dwarfed by his height. Taking a quick look at the hill, no doubt calculating the angle and force he would need to hit it with, he gave the little, pink golf ball a generous tap and it raced up the slope, straight into the tunnel. They heard it knocking around a little in the chamber, before it came careering out the other end and rolled no closer than a yard away from the hole. 
Bugsy looked at him with wide eyes, to which he pretended not to look almost arrogant with how easy he’d made it seem, only when he looked back at her with a shit eating grin, she knew exactly how pleased with himself he was. 
“I bet it’s not that difficult, it’s all just a matter of force and drag and whatnot, right?” She said, strolling up to place her lilac ball on the inky dot marking the start. 
“Totally, although this is where, I don’t know, say a degree in Engineering would come in useful, I bet,” Spencer chimed in, and she didn’t need to look at him to know he had that smirk on his face. 
“Mr Reid, get ready to eat your words,” She replied over her shoulder, smacking the ball hard enough it flew up the slope, bouncing off the wall of the windmill and racing all the way back down the hill, rolling right back to where they stood, Spencer hiding a laugh behind his hand. She gaped, her face hot with annoyance, “Wait, wait! That was a practice run, I get another go,”
“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”
“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,” 
“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer to her, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?” 
“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone. 
“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute. 
His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together. 
It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that. 
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine. 
“Hotch has eyes on a guy at the bar watching us,” He whispered, her back straightening as she was reminded with a slap to the face they were still working the case. That as much fun as they were having, as happy as they were supposed to seem, they still had a very real job to do, and she felt stupid for thinking the flirty glances and erotic embrace was for anything more than to sell the married couple act. 
But Bugsy was nothing if not committed to her job. So instead of worrying if Spencer had felt anything real in the last hour or so, she decided to double down and give their UnSub a real show. 
Sticking her ass out so she brushed against Spencer’s crotch more, she intertwined her fingers with his, and hit the dimpled sphere the direction he guided her; and sure enough it rolled straight into the tunnel with little qualms.
Spinning in his arms, the smile was nearly wiped off her face when she saw Spencer’s eyes had darkened to a rich espresso hue as he looked at her. But she hid it well, despite the fact she caught the way his pupils were blown wide, and simply leaned to kiss him smack dab on his cheek, a smirk on her face when she pulled away.
“I guess I just needed the correct motivation,” She said with a flirty undertone, and she revelled in the way his lips parted enough she saw the whites of his absurdly pretty teeth. 
“Remind me to not take you out to mini golf for our first date,” Spencer huffed, his ears red as a mushroom top as they both stepped over to where the hole was and she snickered, trying her best to ignore the wings hammering away at her ribcage when he said that. 
“Duly noted, Mr Reid,” She said, watching him lineup his next shot with a smirk, and she wondered just where exactly they would go on their first date. Her smile only got wider, a girlish glee to her eyes. “So, theoretically, where were you thinking of taking me?” 
“Theoretically,” He said, lining up his shot, the ball only a small tap away from the hole, his feet spreading a little wider so he could lean down to putt the pink sphere, “I was thinking of going to that book cafe out in Delaware, the one where they have a bunch of drinks inspired by different authors. We could play a game I used to with my mom, where we choose a book for each other we think the other would like,” He took the shot, his ball rolling into the cavity without much effort as she watched him meticulously, her entire body softening with his sentiment right down to her marrow, “And then I was going to say we build a sofa fort in the living room and watch whatever movie you like, maybe get some popcorn on the way home,” 
He looked up at her, and almost reeled back in surprise to see her looking at him with something so vastly emotional in her eyes, like he’d offered her a winning lottery ticket or a chance to go back in time in a flying police box, her expression a complete window into her soul because she’d never been too good at hiding how she felt when she was around him. 
Spencer opened his mouth to speak again, only for their earpieces to jump to life, Hotch’s voice out of breath as he reported down their ear. 
“We have the UnSub, we caught him trying to sneak into your car like we profiled.” He said, and she knew his brow was creased without even having to see his face, “We’re taking him in for questioning now, you kids wrap up and head to the station,”
Bugsy hummed in confirmation, fighting the disappointment that their show was over, and they’d have to go back to their usual act of pretending there wasn’t three little words hanging over both their heads, gnawing at the back of their brains. 
Clearing her throat, she set up her shot ready to finish their game, “Well, theoretically speaking, when you’re ready to ask me on that date, I’m there,”
He smiled to himself, perhaps ready to flirt with her just a little more before they went back to being Bugsy and Spence, not Mr and Mrs Reid, when she hit the golf ball just the tiniest bit too vigorously. It rolled straight past the hole, bouncing off the wall and heading further away from the end than when she’d started, and she groaned in frustration. 
“How are you so terrible at this-” Spencer burst out laughing as she stomped over to the lilac ball, lining up another shot with a grumpy expression. 
“Not another word, Lover boy,” 
2. The one with an old flame.
“I wonder what Hotch wants,” She mused, her head resting on the arm of the seat, her eyes shut for the duration of the flight. Rossi had called them into the office startlingly early for a Friday, the entire team sleepy eyed and annoyed as they’d strolled onto the sixth floor. 
Yet the minute that they’d heard Hotch needed them, they’d soon perked up in interest, seeing as it was Aaron’s only appointed week off to see Beth in New York, and they had quickly jumped in to help with whatever it was he needed. 
“Penelope’s still waiting for NYPD to send her the autopsy reports for the previous victims,” Rossi said, him, Strauss, JJ and Alex playing a few rounds of Shithead with a peeling deck of cards because for once they had no paperwork to be looking over while they travelled. Bugsy had laid on the couch, the one Spencer usually commandeered, except this time he let her take the comfy seat, instead letting her legs drape over his lap as he read from his book, another two sat next to him for when he finished that one. 
“He sounded panicked. DEA thinks we might have a bad batch of something making its way through the club scene causing the deaths,” Strauss added, putting down two sets of three on top of JJ’s ace, “Aaron’s brother just happened to have been caught in the crossfire,”
“Men are almost twice as likely to die from drug overdoses than women, just last year there were forty-one thousand, five hundred and two cases.” Spencer said without lifting his head from his pages, his thumb caressing over Bugsy’s ankle bone, “The fact that the majority of the victims are women suggests it’s more than likely is a date rape drug that has been laced since they tend to be targeted towards female victims more often than males.” 
“Ecstasy can be made in pill, powder or liquid form so it really wouldn’t be too difficult to slip it into someone’s drink,” The girl mused, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she attempted to catch up on another half hour of sleep, “Or to convince people the drug they’re taking willingly is safe,”
“Even regular users might not know they're being dosed until it's too late,” JJ agreed, setting down a seven on top of Rossi’s two fives. 
“What about the two victims who were clean, Linda Heying and Eric Sullivan’s family claimed they never touched the stuff,” Alex questioned, as Morgan looked over the list of victims that they had been able to track down, despite the majority of the information waiting for them at New York. 
“Either the victims are good at hiding the truth or the UnSub is killing for another reason,” David said with a sigh, as Strauss set down the six of clubs, “We should take a closer look, see how they’re connected,”
“Well for now, let the princess get her beauty sleep,” Bugsy said, snuggling into the throw pillow Spencer had passed her as they’d sat down, “I’m feeling weird today,”
His head ripped from his book at that, the rest of the team going back to playing their cards, his hand skirting up to her calf to stroke her leg gently, “You okay?” 
She huffed, “Yeah, Penelope said it's because my Mercury is in Retrograde or something, I don’t know. I just feel strange,” She grumbled, resting a hand over her stomach, “Probably just coming on my period early,”
He frowned, moving her legs off his lap and standing up. Before she could ask where he was going, he stepped to the opposite end of the couch, picking her head up gently by the crook of her neck and sitting back down, resting her back onto his lap. 
His fingers were in her hair before she could say anything, scratching gently at her scalp the way he knew she turned to putty for, and she smiled, swearing blind she’d be purring if she could. 
“We’ll get you some breakfast when we land,” He murmured, and she snuggled her cheek into his thigh, his slender fingers massaging her skin kindly. 
“Thankyou, Spence,” She whispered back, all but slurring her words as sleep caught right back up to her, and before long she was drooling on his black trousers, the sight of it making him smile sweetly to himself. 
And it was for a moment like that he wondered what exact feeling he was waiting for in the first place. 
“Any updates?” Bugsy asked, as they entered the New York Police Department and saw Hotch waiting for them, his arms crossed in a casual shirt and jeans, clearly having had no intention of working this week, “How’s your brother?”
“A little shaken but then he never exactly made the best choices in life,” Hotch huffed, putting a hand on her back as she leaned in to give him a small hug because he seemed particularly stressed, “Emily always said you were bad, I’d take you over him any day,”
“Thanks,” She murmured into his shoulder, with a frown, “I think?”
He smiled, amused the way she had a knack for, though the worry in his mahogany eyes didn’t budge, and Spencer was all but a step behind her as the team filed into the building. 
“You guys have coffee?” Spencer asked, his eyes subconsciously trailing after Bugsy as she moved to talk to one of the detectives, and Hotch nodded, pointing him over to the small kitchenette at the back of the precinct. 
“Over there, I’ll get you guys set up with the lab reports now that you’re here. Autopsies came back for Linda and Eric,” Hotch said, and Spencer murmured in agreement, heading straight for the instant coffee and creamer, worrying about the girl who was already nose deep in a file by the time the machine had poured the first cup. 
He wondered whether there were any pharmacies nearby for anti-sickness tablets, or if she needed a heavy dose of water and sleep instead of the caffeine goodness he was whipping up for her, but then he knew she’d rather shrivell into a ball in the precinct bathroom than ask for a day off, would rather suffer in proud silence than make herself look weak. 
Bugsy remembered it happening in choppy intervals. One minute she was heading up the steps towards where Spencer stood patiently by the coffee machine, something already popping up as a point of interest in her overworked brain. Her head was down, muttering to herself the points of the victimology that conflicted with one another, when she felt herself slam right into a solid body, and she jumped back, steadying herself with an embarrassed expression. 
“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Her eyes snapped up to see a messy blonde sweep of hair, wide blue eyes she’d known ten years ago and a thick beard that happened to be the only thing new about him. Her gaze locked onto him, and she felt a fury she’d not thought about in over a decade rile up inside her, “Sean?” 
“Bugsy,” He breathed, the horror sweeping over his expression, a hand shooting up to slick his hair back nervously, “What are you- how are you-” 
She shoved him back with two firm hands, tossing the file onto the table beside her, and shoving at his chest again, his own hands coming up to defend himself lightly even though his expression read nothing but guilt. 
“Woah, woah, let’s just talk about this, I was just a dumb kid-”
“You left me, Sean. You left me in a foreign country alone with no boarding pass, no cell phone,” She snarled, and the sound of her tone rising turned a few heads, Spencer all but ditching the spoon into the sink when he saw her going nose to nose with some guy who looked purely terrified, “Your dumbass friends spent all my money on hookers, I’d still be in Italy if it wasn’t for the fact you graciously decided not to steal my bank card-” 
She shoved him again in between her growls, and it wasn’t until two hands came up to stop her did she realise Derek and Spencer had all but appeared behind her, the former’s arms wrapping around her waist to draw her back. 
“Woah, woah, talk to me, pretty girl. What’s with the aggression?” Derek asked, his eyes wide with concern as he looked between the youngest agent and their suspect. It seemed her volume had reached the other side of the room where Hotch had been talking with Strauss and Alex, and Spencer could practically see the steam coming out his ears as he whipped around to their trio. 
He could already hear the lecture coming, and the thought of it made him gulp.
“This is Sean,” She spat, and Derek and Spencer’s head snapped to the blonde man who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, “You know, the asshole that ditched me on another continent and stole my money,”
“I didn’t mean to steal your money, I thought you had it in your purse, I-I didn’t think to check before we left the hotel room,” He tried to interject, though the girl's glare intensified, unaware her boss's shoes were now thundering across the steps. 
“Where you left me to miss the flight I paid for, you inconsiderate prick-”
“You told me to leave you alone! You said you were sick of us waking you up-”
“I meant playing your music too loud, dumbass-”
“Well sorry, last time I checked I’m not a mind reader, Bugsy-”
“What in God’s name is going on here?” Hotch’s voice was a crack of lightning through the precinct, and the two of them shut up immediately, like two school children caught squabbling in the halls, Sean turning to his older brother with an exasperated expression. 
“Aaron, I swear, I don’t know what she’s doing here,” Sean pleaded, and Derek, Spencer and Bugsy turned to their boss in unison with bewildered faces. Hotch looked back at them, his own anger dissolving into utter, raw confusion. 
“Do you two know each other?” Hotch, Aaron, asked the girl in the middle, the other men all but positioned as bodyguards in the midst of their little spat, and he saw her cheeks hot with anger deflating as she drew a breath to answer. 
“Unfortunately,” She spat, scrutinising the familiar tone Sean had used when he’d said Aaron’s name, “Do you two know each other?” 
“He’s my brother,” The Hotchner’s replied in unison, their tone almost identical and she felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.
Bugsy felt her face drop, her eyes scanning between them for any signs of a lie, except all she found were the tiny details of their face that seemed to half match. Like their cheekbones, and the crease between their brows, the shape of their lips. 
Her face blanked, gobsmacked silence passing between the five of them as she digested exactly what that statement ment. 
Sean, her Sean, the Sean she’d been sleeping with on and off for six months straight, who used to make her tea way too milky and without sugar the way she hated it, but would bring it to her in bed and stroke her back when they were finished, the Sean who once tried to ask her to be his girlfriend when he was stoned and she’d laughed at him and snatched the blunt away, told him to get a hold of himself because that was the exact opposite of how friends with benefits worked. 
Sean, who she had trusted to keep her safe, who’d ditched her naked in a hotel room in a foreign country and made her feel stupid for ever believing a word a man said.  
She stuttered for a response, a wide eyes mix of terror and confusion and repulsion washing over her in stages. 
“I need-” She swallowed thickly, her mouth drier than sandpaper, gently pushing Derek’s arm from around her waist, “I think I need a walk- a walk sounds good- yeah-”
Rossi paced over to the five of them, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. He almost paused at the wall of awkward tension around the group, each participant seeming stuck for the right thing to say, the entire situation so bizarre that Spencer debated faking a migraine to get him and her out of the room for some air. 
“Hotch,” Both of the men turned to look at him, and the sight of it made Bugsy shudder, feeling almost completely out of her own body at the thought of her nude body on top of Sean’s because now all she could see was Aaron in his place, “Six new bodies found in a nightclub-”
“I’ll go!” She jumped, all but bolting past the men, trying her hardest not to touch either of them because her skin crawled with a sickening uncanny valley looking between the brothers, “I’ll go inspect the crime scene,” 
And no one stopped her, because they’d seen her be all manner of strange before, but never quite like that. Aaron nodded his head to Morgan, and the man took it as a sign to follow her. He quickly obeyed, hot on the girl's heels as she kept her head down with an odd, freaked out expression on her face like she was about to throw up and scream at the same time. 
Which left Sean alone as Spencer and Aaron whirled around on him, similar looks of annoyance on their face as the younger agent looked the man head to toe. 
He was handsome, handsome in a rugged way like he was used to bar fights and late nights and drinking until three am with pretty ladies like her. He was built wide like Aaron, his shoulders broad and muscles stocky, a few tattoos dotted around his arms that only added to his rough looking appeal, and Spencer wondered if she’d always liked the bad boys, wondered if he was an outlier in her dating history. 
Except they weren’t dating, not yet at least. 
“So I take it she’s one of your agents,” Sean said, wringing his hands together in anxiety as the two taller men looked down at him, equally unimpressed.
Though, Spencer hated to admit, his was more green faced jealousy than anything else. 
“Agent Prentiss is one of the best,” Reid corrected, his tone cold and stern, and Sean visibly shrunk in on himself, looking to his big brother for help, only he found Aaron was just as annoyed, glaring down at him. 
“You have some more explaining to do, Sean,” His brother snapped, and the two men diverted him into one of the interrogation rooms, Spencer’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his temples ache, “Or next time I’m not stopping her from handing your ass to you, and believe me when I say you’ll wish you’d told me sooner,”
Sean gulped, all too aware of the way eighteen year old Bugsy had never backed down from a fight, when men twice her age shoved her in clubs or girls bitched at her for dancing too close to their boyfriends. He didn’t imagine she was any different at twenty eight, except this time she was trained and licensed to handle a gun. 
The door slammed behind them, and Aaron pushed his little brother into the seat with a firm hand, the sight of his unit chief just as protective over her as he was making Spencer bite back glee. The image of Bugsy laying into the guy was burned into his memory, eidetic or not, and it seemed to be the only thing that stopped him blowing his top as Sean opened his mouth to explain what had happened between him and the younger Prentiss woman. 
“What did you do, Thane?” Sean’s voice crackled over the feed, the wire on his chest brushing against his shirt as he paced in the wine cellar. Aaron, Morgan, Spencer and Bugsy sat in the van, listening to the conversation through shared headphones, Spencer and Bugsy’s heads pressed together as they followed the voices as best as they could, waiting for a confession or anything they could tie to the victims' gory deaths. 
“I spiked the wine, you idiot,” Sean’s boss, Thane, snapped, his breathing laboured and Bugsy took a shot in the dark to say he was pacing, worrying now that there was concrete evidence linking his date rape drug to the deaths of atleast nine people so far, “Oh, God. Oh, god, Jim is going to kill me.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Sean seethed, his patience wearing thin as the man all but confessed to killing his girlfriend. 
“For a laugh, I thought it was X. Girl’s love that crap,” Thane replied, his voice louder as Sean stepped closer to him, and she exchanged a look with Aaron.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, was it?” The younger Hotchner barked, and she quickly let go of the headphones to grab a kevlar and her gun. 
“He’s going off track, Aaron, he’d not going to keep his cool much longer,” She said, and Spencer’s eyes trailed up to her face, her brow furrowed as Aaron moved to slip his own bulletproof over his head, adjusting the straps at his side. 
“Tell SWAT to stand by, we’re going in to support, but we may need back up,” Aaron ordered, unholstering his gun and switching the trigger off safety, “You two stay here and see if Thane says any more about the wine,”
She drew her gun to her side just as he did, and Spencer made a move to stop her, even just to check where her head was at because he knew she had this tendency of throwing herself in harms way and asking questions later. He selfishly worried what that upset look in her eyes meant, like she loathed that Sean was in danger as much as she loathed him. 
But he wasn’t quite fast enough, because by the time he’d reached a hand out for hers to ask if she was feeling alright, she had slid the door to the van open, hopping out onto the tarmac as Aaron shadowed her. 
And something ugly and envious reared its head in Spencer’s gut as the doors slammed, so much so that his jaw feathered and he took a deep breath out, his lips pressing into a thin line.
The two agents moved as one, their footsteps pounding over the linoleum floor of the night club. They swept to the back of the building, where the door to the stock room was, and it became apparent almost immediately from the grunting and shuffling the other side of the door that the two men were much closer to brawling than they’d guessed. 
“FBI, drop your weapon!” Bugsy called, bracing herself as she felt Aaron’s domineering figure at her shoulder. She raised her leg to kick the door in, and it swung on its hinges, smacking into the rack of beer. They caught the two men in the middle of a fist fight, Sean with a split lip, Thane with a gash on his forehead, his head locked under the younger man’s arm with a deathly grip.
She holstered her gun, seeing that neither of them were carrying, and moved forward to break the two of them up.
“Alright, Sean- Sean, that’s enough,” She scolded, her fingers prying his muscled arm off his boss’s trachea, and Sean took a second to realise it was disappointment in her face, not the white hot anger it had been not even a few hours before, before he let the man go, some colour returning to his bluing lips.
“He killed Linda,” The blonde Hotchner said softly, and something wavered in her eyes, something close to pity, and she nodded at him while biting her cheek hard. Aaron holstered his gun, surging forward to grab Thane with rough hands as he fought against the taller man’s grip. “She was sober, she’d gotten clean and he killed her,” 
“I know,” Bugsy said lamentingly, and against her better judgement she patted his shoulder kindly, more kindly than he probably deserved, and the thought of it made Sean’s baby blue eyes turn away in sorrow. 
Before she could say anything else, Thane wretched his hand out of Hotch’s grip, grabbing for the sharp box cutter and lunging right for Bugsy where she turned away from him. 
Sean’s expression morphed into fear for a moment, grabbing for her to yank her out of reach, but it was too late. She felt the slash across the back of her arm, where her kevlar couldn’t cover up, and she yawped in pain the way a dog sounds when its tail gets crushed. Turning towards the source of the danger, Sean’s hand weaved around her waist to tug her backwards as Aaron scrambled to grab the suspect. 
Thane’s hand gripped the blade and slashed down again, across her cheek and only inches away from her eye, her hands too late to grab his wrists to stop his advances. By the time he drew back to swipe for her again Aaron had already tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the wine soaked floor and fumbling for his cuffs. 
“We have an agent injured and needing medical, repeat, medical unit required on scene,” Spencer was out of his seat before Hotch could even finish his sentence, forgoing his own vest as he darted from the van, his heart racing at the sound of the scuffle echoing through Sean’s wire, and he felt his chest seizing at just what kind of a state she’d be in when he saw her. 
She was the only other agent on the scene. That call had to be made for her, the voice in his gut told him, but the twisted part of him hoped that it was someone else, anyone else, that had gotten hurt, because he might just throw a punch of his own at Thane or Sean or maybe even both of them if she had so much as a single hair misplaced. 
Spencer had only just about reached the bar area when the four of them emerged from the stock room, Thane in cuffs, looking rattled and aggravated. Spencer let himself take a long, hard look at the man with a glare that soon made him cower away, though he found little luck elsewhere as Hotch’s hands gripped him so tight Spencer thought he might be trying to strangle him through his arms. 
But that wasn’t who he was looking for. And there, trailing behind his unit chief sheepishly, with Sean’s hand on her back as he watched her carefully, his eyes worriedly darting over her skin when he saw how fast the blood was pouring from the laceration on the apple of her cheek, was Bugsy. Her expression was shaken, no doubt from nearly having her corneas slashed open had Sean not pulled her away even a second earlier, and she seemed in some sort of a daze, until she spotted the sweater vest she’d shoved in the wash about a hundred times, and two supple hands reached for her shoulders, snapping her attention out of her head. 
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, all but ignoring Sean as the man went to flag down medical, his own appearance dishevelled and stunned, and it irked Spencer something childish when her head snapped to the blonde, watching him head for the paramedics. 
“I’m okay, Spence, it’s just a superficial wound,” She said as a reflex, meeting his eyes finally. But she simpered when she saw just how terrified he seemed, a warm palm raising to cup his face affectionately, “He just nicked the skin, that’s all. It’s not as bad as it looks,” 
Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Her face stung like a bitch, but the feeling of her cheek dribbling with the ichor was worse than the actual pain, and made her feel queasy more than anything. 
He went to say something else, or perhaps even gently caress the clean side of her face with his own loving gesture, but he was quickly interrupted by the medical team all but grabbing Bugsy out of his grip and assessing her themselves. 
“It’s probably best if you come take a seat, Agent Prentiss,” The woman said, pointing to where Sean sat on the back of the ambulance getting his nose checked over, “We’ll be over with some stitches and glue,” 
And Spencer made a move to follow the two of them, only to be stopped by Hotch, who called his name with that direct tone he took when he was worried.
“Reid, I need you and Morgan to interview Thane about where he got the drugs he used to spike the wine,” Aaron ordered, even though he seemed to watch the girl go just as bothered as the younger agent, and Spencer seemed conflicted between rebelling against his boss’s instructions or keeping to his track record of following them to a tea. 
He paused for a second, his gaze flicking to the girl who sat with her old flame, Sean’s eyes roving over her head to toe worriedly, and he looked back to Aaron, “But-”
“Now, Reid. She’s going to be fine.” 
And Spencer was forced to listen, even if his face burned with annoyance at the sight of the man watching her so tentatively. 
“Would you quit fidgeting, the medic said it was a surface wound,” Bugsy snipped, feeling the ocean hues burning a hole into the side of her head. She dusted her knees off of invisible dirt, braving a look up at her ex-fling where she was met with a wall of guilt.
And it was like for a split second she remembered all the mornings she’d wake up to him twirling the tips of her hair between his fingers, or when he’d shake his head whenever he’d look over her shoulder at her lab reports she’d be writing and make a passing comment on how a hot girl like her could have brains and looks. 
Or how he could be kind to her, genuinely sweet when he wanted to be, when they toed a weird line between friends with benefits and something a little more, because at his core she knew he was a good guy, he was just incredibly dumb for an eighteen year old. 
“Listen, Bug,” Sean sighed, looking down at the ground where they were perched on the back on the ambulance, Bugsy’s face stitched up so tight she hoped it wouldn’t scar very deeply, “I really am sorry for how I treated you,” 
His voice shook with something remorseful, and she let her eyes cast over his face that had grown even more handsome in the ten years since she saw him. With the good memories came the bad ones in equal measure, and the arguments over stupid shit like leaving cupboard doors open and playing music late at night and the time he forgot to feed her gerbil for two days when she was out of town washed back to shore from the deepest crevices of her mind. 
She’d been with men after him, had flings and meaningless kisses with boys who’d treated her much less kindly than he had. And when she thought about it, the anger and resentment she’d felt when she thought about those few days she spent lost in Italy stemmed from the fact she’d been forced to confront what she’d always feared since she was little. 
That Bugsy was alone in the world, forgettable, someone you could leave behind and sleep soundly. 
But when she thought of that now, the first face she pictured was Spencer, and how he would tell her to knock it off if she ever said that out loud, because he would never leave her, in a foreign country or even at a gas station if she needed to get fuel. He always walked up to the pump with her because he knew exactly how many women got kidnapped in places like that every year, he'd told her so already. 
And she knew the person she was when she could have loved Sean, the person who was reminded just how easy it was to leave her behind, was gone. In its place was the girl who Spencer loved like it was as easy as breathing. And the thought of it made her feel just that little bit less bitter towards the blonde man who fiddled with his rough, bloodied hands. 
“I was a dumb kid, I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of,” He swallowed heavily, his frown looking strikingly similar to Aaron's as he did, but she would never remind him, “But I did always wonder whether I’d see your name in the news curing some disease I could never pronounce or being the first person to learn like every single language there is,” He smiled sadly, and the old her knew him just well enough to know he was being honest, because his nose turned red whenever he lied. 
The thought of it made her lips curve up, despite how annoyed she’d been to see him again, and there was something bashful about the way the slid a hand into his to give it a quick squeeze.
“We were eighteen, Sean. No one has themselves figured out at eighteen,” She said earnestly, her head dipping to meet his ashamed gaze.
He shook his head, “You deserved so much better than I could ever give you, we both knew that,” He pulled his hand away, and her expression contorted into confusion, “It’s probably why you're with that doctor, right? Aaron said he’s like a whizz kid,”
“He’s not-We’re-” She sighed, running a hand over where the EMTs had stitched the gash on the back of her arm, “It’s complicated,”
“Complicated like we were complicated?” He asked, her fingertip tracing every single nook where they had looped the suture through her skin. 
She smiled to herself and looked over at him, something weighty like closure passing between the two of him as he watched her take his tired face in, knowing they were nothing more than just passing ships in the night now. 
“You meant something to me once, Sean, no matter how much we drove each other up the wall,” She snickered, and something like an exhausted chuckle matched her, “But it’s different with him. It’s like everything I do means something to the world when I’m with him, you know?” 
Sean took in the wistful look in her eyes, the girl he’d known who had only gotten stronger, scrappier, wittier with age, and he thought he’d be lucky to ever get someone like her again.
“I hope I do,” He said, and she knocked her shoulder into his to dispel the bad memories of two teenagers figuring out what feelings and kisses and sex meant in the messiest of ways. 
“Do me a favour?” Sean hummed at her, and she looked surprisingly like herself again when she smiled at him wryly, “Call Aaron more. It’s difficult being the only disappointment child in his life,” 
Sean barked a laugh at her words, and she smiled into her lap. Who’d have thought closure would be so healing. 
She felt eyes on her even as she tried to nap on the jet, having returned back to their original position on the couch, her head on Spencer’s lap. She had a sixth sense to who it would be, the Spider Sense they’d been calling it despite the fact Spencer tried to tell her it was mere intuition, she glanced up to where something melancholic swirled inside his forest gaze, already watching over her despite his book being open in his lap. 
She hadn’t even opened her mouth to speak before his obscenely large hand had sneaked under her jawline, tilting her face up so he could take a better look at the messy cut. 
“Have they given you anything for the pain?” Spencer said quietly, because the other’s were already trying to sleep, and she blanked for a moment, before her hand came up to snake around his wrist gently. 
“They gave me Naproxen for two days. Spence, I’m fine, really,” 
His teeth ground together, his other hand placing his book down beside him and moving to smooth the back of her hair, the sealed wound staring daggers at him as his eyes darted over the rest of her face, just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything. 
He nodded to himself, as if to conclude his consultation and his thumb stroked down the curve of her jaw, his head whipping up to quickly make sure no one else was watching.
“What, uh,” Spencer cleared his throat nervously, her expectant eyes looking up at him, “What were you and Sean talking about?”
Her brow quirked in confusion, and it wasn’t until she felt his delicate strokes hesitate that she realised he seemed on edge, “Why?”
“N-No reason, I just was wondering, you looked like you were-” He coughed again, even though there was nothing tickling his windpipe, nothing except embarrassment, because he’d never thought he’d be the envious type. 
He braved a look at her again, worried she would be annoyed with his crass and intrusive questions, only to see her smiling at him wickedly. 
“We were what?” She asked, and Spencer went so quiet he could have heard a mouse knitting if he tried, his cheeks flushing with raspberry red heat, “Are you jealous, Spencer?” 
He shook his head fast, unable to formulate anything that wasn’t a stammer, and she sat up in her seat, throwing her legs onto the ground so she could scooch up into his side. 
“Because if you were, you know I’d find that wildly attractive right?” She murmured, his cheeks burning an even hotter shade, the sight of it all but a bone to a hound to Bugsy who loved teasing him. She snickered, leaning in close to his vermillion ear, and leaving a tiny kiss on his clenched jaw, “Don’t worry, Wonder Boy. He knows I’m all yours,” 
3. The one with the day of the dead.
“Thankyou, thankyou, my helpful little mice,” Penelope chirped as the three of them stepped into her apartment, their arms filled with shopping bags, “Set them down on the counter, I’ll unpack them later,” 
“Wow,” Bugsy gawped at the altar stood in the corner of the woman’s living room, an assortment of sweets and tissue paper flowers decorating the layers, “Oh it’s so pretty, they’re going to love it. We spent a Summer in Mexico when Mom was having talks with their President, but we moved out before October rolled around so I never got to see a Día de los Muertos,” 
Penny smiled, though she quickly looked around the rest of her apartment that had yet to be decorated, “There’s still a lot to do before the party next week and,” She huffed, the bags taking up the entirety of her kitchen table as Bugsy frowned at her, “I’m scared. I’ve never had the whole team here before,” 
“Relax, Pen, I can help you set up,” The younger woman reassured, helping unload the groceries that needed to go in the fridge as Spencer helped her carry the larger items. 
Penelope perked up watching her guests move towards the cooler, a devilish smirk twitching at her lips, “Hey, while you guys are there, can you see if I have enough hot sauce for the party?”
“Sure,” They replied in synchrony, Bugsy putting the milk and soda in the side drawers as Spencer shelved away some of the meat. They both looked at the top row, where some kind of jalapeno salsa was resting next to a jar of fake eyeballs, and the flicked a casual glance at the woman who was pouring vials of red viscous liquid made to look like blood down her cheeks for a Penelope version of a practical joke.
Bugsy blinked once, not quite surprised as she would have thought seeing Penelope attempting to scare them with something they’d seen a thousand times over for real. 
“Now, are the eyeballs marinating in anything spicy or is it just like a pickled onion type of thing because all you seem to have is the jalapeno sauce,” She said, and Penelope deflated at her bored tone, looking at the two agents in discontent. 
“You guys didn’t even flinch,” She said sadly, her dark eyes flicking between them, “My poor babies, what has the world done to you?” 
Bugsy smiled, shutting the fridge door and handing the bubbly woman a leaf of tissue paper. 
“JJ’s right, I told her I wanted to go scary this Halloween and she just laughed at me, and said that I don’t have a scary side,” Penelope whined, and Bugsy giggled. 
“Sorry, babygirl, you wouldn’t be Penelope Garcia if you were capable of scary,” She teased, waltzing around the kitchen to put away the rest of the shopping, even as the woman tried to shoo her away from helping, “I’ve seen puppies scarier than you, Pen,” 
“If it helps, you probably do,” Spencer interjected, helping Bugsy shelve something on one of the higher cabinets, his long arms weaselling over her own as he reached past her, “The building blocks of the human personality are complex, varied and multi-faceted. It’s essential to one’s mental health to want to express these hidden personalities and it’s just a fact of nature that everybody has one,”
“Everybody?” Penelope asked, ignoring the way the two of them bumbled around her kitchen, handing things between one another the way she imagined them putting away the groceries in their own kitchen, like they worked just as well in the home as they did in the field. Dare she say it, like a couple who had been married and knew each other's routines for years. “Even the two of you?” 
“Oh, absolutely, yeah,” Spencer agreed, and Bugsy flicked a smirk up at him as Pen turned to her expectantly.
"I mean, you can't tell me Bitch-Slapping our boss or fist fighting with my sister was exactly usual behaviour for me," She pointed out, and the two of them nodded in agreement, although they wouldn't have exactly called it out of character for her.
“Okay, okay, I want to see it. I want to see Dr Spencer Reid’s hidden personality,” Penelope said, a smile growing as thick and fast as a weed when he seemed thrown off by her request, and it only took one look at the younger Prentiss to know she wanted front row just as badly. 
“R-right here? Like right now you want to see it?” He stammered, all too aware of Bugsy’s amused lashes batting up at him, the innocent expression she knew made it difficult for him to say no to, and he wondered for a second if she understood the exact amount of control she had over him when she wanted to. 
“I wanna see this hidden personality, pretty boy,” She smiled with her teeth, and he felt his hands turn jittery in embarrassment. 
“Okay, alright,” Spencer shook his arms out, clearing his throat with a growling sort of husk that made her raise her brows, and in a single blink he’d locked stern eyes with her, pointing to her with a completely un-Spencer-like stance; completely rose to his full height, confident and domineering, “I know what you’re thinking,”
She really hoped he didn’t. Because what she was really thinking was just how hot he sounded with that deep sort of timbre, that cocksure attitude. 
“You’re thinking ‘Did that guy just fire five shots or did that guy just fire six shots?’” He went on, his tone deadly serious, as her lips parted in surprise, and what had started out as a game turned into some wildly lewd thoughts fast, “You’re going to have to ask yourself a question; Do you feel lucky, pun-k,”
She swallowed haughtily, as he squeezed his eyes shut and when he looked at her again he was entirely puppy like the way he usually looked, none the wiser to the way her stomach had coiled in want. 
“That was Clint Eastwood from Dirty Harry,” He explained, looking to Penelope because he had no idea what that strange look on Bugsy’s face was, only to see his techy friend just as in awe, “I mean I know it’s not as effective as my dominant personality, but I really think it’s there-”
Penelope’s phone sprung to life with a call from Hotch and she quickly spluttered an excuse that they needed to leave right away, grabbing for her keys and heading for the door. 
Spencer made a move to follow her, only to feel a hand grab his shirt and turn him right back around, Bugsy still staring at him with that look in her eye, like she’d had too much caffeine or been told there was a million dollars cash waiting for them at home.
“Is everything okay-”
“Is Clint Eastwood strictly a party trick or would I be able to have him on request, maybe?” She said, her hands oddly tight as they grabbed at his soft stomach, and it was like he heard the click in his brain when he realised what she meant. 
“R-request, I guess,” He stumbled for composure, finding his footing when he felt her palms were clammy, “You got a thing for cops?” 
“Just the one, I guess,” She said with a clenched jaw, and he laughed though it sounded more like a choke, as she darted right behind Penelope to avoid suspicion. 
By the time the party rolled around, Penelope had decked her apartment out to the nines, marigolds and tissue garlands and lights and food of all sorts spread out across the altar, a mix of alcohol and juices available in pitchers, because Penelope was nothing if not a people pleaser. 
The doorbell rang right as Alex and Bugsy poured themselves some margarita, complete with the eyeball ice cubes ofcourse, and Penelope fussed in her beautiful dress, muttering under her breath the way she did when she was nervous. 
“What, what, what,” She murmured, her blonde curls bouncing with her steps as she reached for the door, “I thought you said you couldn’t come!” 
Bugsy’s head whipped to the door, Aaron looking much more casual than they were used to seeing him as he entered the decorated home, his colleagues all dressed smartly and in some shade of black. 
“Jack got a last minute sleepover invitation so I hope it’s okay,” He said, a bottle of rosé in his hand he’d brought as a contribution. 
“Ofcourse, ofcourse,” Penelope sang, leading him over to the altar where everyone stood with their offerings, sipping on their glasses of liquor, “Okay, everybody, I guess it’s time to start, here you go sir,”
She handed him a freshly poured glass of wine, chilled courtesy of the eyeball, and Aaron thanked her kindly, taking a generous sip to catch up with the others. 
“I want to thank everybody for doing this with me, and our altar’s burning, and I just feel so blessed to have you all here,” Penelope started with a grateful smile on her painted lips, a handful of old photos between her fingertips, “I will start, um, this is my mom and dad,” She said, nostalgia idling her tone as she gently placed down a worn picture of a teen couple holding a beautiful, blonde girl, eyes bigger than moons and full of curiosity, just how Bugsy would have imagined Penny as a baby, “I miss them. And this is my cat, Simba with his usual bowl of soda pop. He was a weird cat,”  
The team chuckled, looking at the enormous ginger Tom that lapped at the bubbly liquid. Bugsy took a sip of her drink as JJ took a step forward with a smile, her own photo in hand. 
“This is my sister, Roselyn. Ros.” JJ said, placing down a photo of a fifteen year old with identical eyes and nose to her, sitting it next to a small statue of the eiffel tower, “She always dreamed she’d live is Paris so um,” She swallowed, looking at her sister laying in the grass of their childhood home, something girlish in her gaze, “It didn’t happen but I thought this would bring her some happiness,”
They took it in turns bringing their offerings and pictures: David bringing some Cubs tickets for a soldier he had lost in Vietnam, Alex bringing a crossword for her mother, Spencer sliding down a picture of Maeve silently, alongside a cut out picture of Nikola Tesla, Morgan bringing his father, Hitch putting down the picture of Haley he kept in his wallet. 
Which left them all to turn to the youngest agent, who seemed flustered.
“So, I fortunately have not lost anyone properly thus far, so bare with me here guys,” She said fishing out an old scrapbook photo of her as a seven year old, a small orange snake wrapped around the length of her arm, twenty two year old Emily standing right behind her, the pair of them with beaming smiles as the snake seemingly poked its tongue out for the camera. 
Penelope clutched her chest in horror, “Is that a-”
“This is Tigger, the corn snake Emily gave to me when she left home,” She explained, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the million dollar grin she had in the photo, three of her front teeth missing sweetly, “I had him until I was about twelve before he kicked the serpent bucket, but he was cute for a slithery little guy,” 
She drew another photo, an ultrasound showing two tiny embryos and she put it beside the picture of Tigger, and the group drew a shared breath. 
“Bug, I never knew you were…” Spencer started, his stomach flipping when he saw the outline of the foetuses, only for the girl’s eyes to widen. 
“No! No, it’s not like that, this is um,” She cleared her throat awkwardly, scratching the back of her hand with a guilty look, “This is the twin I absorbed in the womb,” She said, and she felt the rest of her team gawking at her without having to look, “I guess I’d like to say, uh, I’m sorry pal. It was nice while it lasted, I hope you can forgive me,” 
“You’re being serious?” Morgan asked, gawping at the girl, right as Hotch broke out into disbelieving snickers, probably spurred on by the wine, and Alex was quick to join him, her hand over her mouth.
Bugsy turned to him with a ‘duh’ kind of look on her face, “Oh, 100% serious, yeah,” 
“Is that why you’re a little…” Rossi started, only he found himself stuck for words when she looked at him betrayed. 
“A little, what?” She asked, looking to JJ who cracked into a chuckle, putting her head in her palm.
“What he means is you have a big personality,” Alex said, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder and giving her a motherly squeeze, hoping they hadn’t offended her, “And we wouldn’t change it for the world,”
“I should hope so, she got a double helping.” Morgan cackled, and Bugsy smacked his arm with a smile. 
“Every time I think I know everything about you, you come out with something new,” Penelope said, her own snickering laugh meeting the girl’s ears, “You’re like Jason Bourne,” 
“God help us if there had been two of you, Prentiss,” David added, patting the girl on the head as they laughed, and Penelope raised a toast to their altar, the rest of the team doing the same before they sipped out their cups and allowed themselves to enjoy the rest of the party. 
“Oh, I have something for you!” Bugsy said, springing to her feet and almost tripping over Sergio who had curled up by her legs. 
She’d cut herself off after her third, and by the time midnight rolled around she’d almost completely sobered up enough to the point her and Alex had been playing hangman except with only Old English words.
Her and Spencer had gotten home twenty minutes later, the two of them exhausted from an evening well spent, the melancholy happiness in the room draining them to the point Bugsy had immediately changed into her pyjamas when she got into the house.
Her pyjamas being Spencer’s boxers and one of his shirts since he’d inadvertently been hiding all of the underwear-top combinations she’d gotten from other flings that she’d brought when she moved into his. 
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” He said earnestly, and she simply waved his humble attitude off, the two of them sat on the sofa in their nightwear, flicking through the late night TV. 
He smiled, watching her bustle into her room and root around her closet, before she emerged with a terracotta coloured pot of lilac flowers, whirling on her heel to head for him. 
“What’s this?” Spencer asked, standing to meet her and Bugsy simpered, because she’d felt silly for buying them in the first place. Perhaps it was some left over guilt considering she’d spent the majority of Maeve’s existence in her life hating the girl, or atleast hating what she had that Bugsy thought she could never be privy to. Perhaps it was because all things considered she wanted Spencer to know that it was okay for him to mourn, because she’d never force him to hurry up his process when he’d been there for every second of hers. 
She handed him the potted plant, the small purple petals in the shape of half moons lighting up at him, and his mind raced as to what species they were since he’d certainly never seen them around the East Coast before.
“Scaevola aemula,” She said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt around her waist as she spoke because his eyes were unnervingly doe-like when he looked at her in the dark lamp light, “It’s called the fairy fan flower. I thought-"
She paused, her expression morphing into embarrassment, "Wait, this is so stupid, I’ll send them back,” She shook her head, the worry overtaking the rational part of her as she grabbed for the pot to stash it back in her room, but he held it out of her reach, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body against his hip, as the other stretched out to keep her from snatching back the plant. 
“Tell me. What?” He said, his lips stretching into a devious smile to see her so shy suddenly, and she buried her face into her hands as he watched her, “I'm not going to think it's stupid. Why did you get me these?”
“They’re not for you- well, they are, but I just thought,” She stumbled over her sentences, her heart thumping that this was entirely the wrong move, that she was poking at an open wound no matter how caring she was being. Clearing her throat, she let her forehead thump onto his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut as she spoke, “I thought you could keep it so that you can think of Maeve every time you water it, since Maeve was the name of the fairy queen,” 
He was quiet. God, why was he so quiet? Her breath was thick as molasses as they sat in the silence for a second. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when two of his fingers ran delicately beneath her chin, tilting her head up enough that he could see her face and she drew a sigh of relief when she saw he didn’t seem angry or hurt at all. 
His eyes were soft as pools of honey as he looked at her, his brows stirring into a sad-happy mix. 
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” She whispered, their faces so close they were sharing breath, and he shook his head, his fingers never leaving her skin where they forced her to stay near, gave her no choice but to keep her looking at him. She didn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Everything pretty about him was dialled to a thousand whenever she got close, and his thick lashes blinked at her like he was seeing a mirage, a daydream. 
“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, Bug,” Spencer murmured back to her, his every word fanning over the bridge of her nose, and she sighed in content, melting back into his side as he pulled her into a hug, his own face burying into the crook of her neck, “Thankyou,” 
She smiled and hummed in happiness, wrapping her arms around his slender waist and drawing him so close she got a whiff of his shampoo. 
“I have a bigger pot in my room, if you like, then we can keep it in the kitchen sill, away from the boys,” She offered, beaming at him when he stroked over the back of her hair affectionately. She hopped out of the embrace, “I’ll go get it for you-”
“You’ve done enough, Bug,” Spencer reminded, something grateful in his tone as she paused and waited for whatever he was going to say, “I’ll go get the pot, you go decide what movie we should watch,”
“You’re sure?” Bugsy asked, her brows furrowed as she checked for signs of an escape in his movements. But he just smiled back at her tiredly, the purple flowers his accomplice as she gave in and headed back towards the sofa, “It’s by my dresser, where my paper bin used to be,”
He set the gift on the kitchen table, the lilac hues brightening up the kitchen already like they just knew how touched Spencer felt to have received them, like there really was some kind of fairy magic burrowed into the soil as they watched the two of them dance around one another, heading to opposite ends of the apartment with lingering glances and bashful smiles.
Spencer thought his chest couldn’t swell any bigger in size, his heart so inevitably full of her, it left room for no one else, not even Maeve, which was the first time he’d brought himself to think that in months. 
+1 The one with the book.
He opened the door to her bedroom, her duvet tossed everywhere because it was a rare occasion she made her bed before they left for work, her clothes strewn about the floor in the general direction of the bathroom, like she’d stripped on the way there, and the thought of it made his stomach seize with a heat, the idea of her undressing little more than a wall away from him knocking his every thought from his head.
The vase. He needed a bigger vase.
Quickly collecting her clothes up and shoving them into her laundry basket for her, he diverted his attention to her dresser, where the slightly roomier pot sat on the floor, a towel underneath it to catch any water remnants and he stepped over her various note pads and books she’d clearly tossed off the bed before she went to sleep. 
He tried to ignore them, he really did, but his scratching urge to keep things tidy for her wrestled with his conscience that said to leave her stuff alone. Before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself organising them into a neat pile in his hands and placing them on top of her dresser where one of her books had made it safely, or at least safe enough she wouldn’t trip over it. 
His gaze dropped to the book already on there, its leather cover entirely melting into the background of the dark chestnut dresser, yet it stared daggers up at him like it had been waiting to be noticed.
Great Expectations, Charles Dickens.
The book looked old enough to be easily from original 1900s, at least one of the first few hundred published. It was scuffed a little on the edges, the black lettering of the printed title choppy in places where it had been handled recklessly, and the leaves of paper were atom thin. The smell of dust and paper clouded his nose when he picked it up delicately.
Opening the front cover curiously to see its printed date, he was stopped in his tracks to see a little post it note on the title page, covering Mr Dickens’ name with a scrawled handwriting he’d known for six years. 
Six whole years. Nearly seven. He felt like he’d known her his whole life, when in startling reality he’d not even known her a third of it. 
And there it was, where he was expecting a list of notes or her thoughts on how David Copperfield had much more likeable characters, anything that she’d thought important enough to scratch down on the front page, instead was his name. 
Spencer,
He felt his breath catch the second he read it, contemplated slamming the book shut right then and there because this felt illicit to read whatever it was she’d scribbled out just for him even if it was dedicated to the stupid man who’d been asking her to wait on his stupid head and stupider heart to align so he could give her exactly everything she deserved. 
His gaze snapped away from the page, that voice in his head telling him this was wrong, that if she’d wanted him to see that book she would have given it to him already. And yet, like it did most days, the beating organ in his chest writhed in annoyance that he’d looked away, that he’d followed the rules one too many times for its liking. He bit his cheek, the two halves of himself arguing amongst themselves. 
After a second of debating, his eyes fell slowly to the note, a creeping guilt skirting down his spine that he was reading something private. How could something be private and yet meant for him? His brain scoffed at the dichotomy of it all, while his chest lurched when he caught a glimpse of more of her writing. 
‘Spencer,’ His heart trembled almost as much as his hand as he traced the writing with his forefinger, imagining her writing it out in a little ball point pen, her body slumped over the book with every intent of having him read her little note. He imaged her breath fanning across the page, her hand warm as her knuckles stroked over the paper, and it felt so much more intimate than a little post-it when he thought of her like that, ‘By the time you’re reading this I’ll be back home from London and we’ll probably be in your apartment doing that stupid thing we do when we pretend like I haven’t missed you more than anything in the whole world while I’ve been here in England,’
She wrote this in London, probably in that tiny apartment her and Emily had rented on a short lease, the one she’d said smelled like mildew and dust and wet wood but had a gorgeous view of Hyde Park when she looked out her bedroom window. 
She’d written it months ago, so why hadn’t she given it to him?
‘I miss you every day. You’re all I think about when I go for a run, and I think sometimes you’d really like it here. I’ve mapped out all the bookshops I’ve found and all the places that do really good coffee if you ever did want to visit England, but I think I’d be happy with you even if we lived in a little ditch on the side of the road like two drowning rats,’
His chest seized, tears lining his lashes when he thought about that day she’d yanked him into a hug the second she saw him, when he’d been too busy thinking about Maeve and burying whatever he felt for Bugsy entirely behind him. 
You should have called, Bug. He’d said, like his eidetic memory wanted to twist the knife in just that bit deeper, and he didn’t need his freaky brain to remember how her face had fallen when he’d said it like that. Like he didn’t even want to see her. 
He hated himself. He hated himself more than she’d ever had. Even if she had more rights than anyone to despise his selfish guts. 
‘Anyway, I know Dickens isn’t your favourite or anything, but I got you this because I know you like the original copies and because it made me think of you (but then again, what doesn’t?). 
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. And so I guess that means I’ll love you until the life part stops too. 
All my heart,
Bug.’
He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he finished the note, digesting every single word the average speed instead of his usual method of inhaling the letters faster than should be possible, like he wanted to savour every single one because they’d come from her. 
He heard her saying every single one, the thought striking him like someone had cracked him across the face with a paddle. She’d wanted to say all of this when she was in London, when he’d been too busy for her, when he’d been too busy with Maeve. 
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. 
“Did you find it?” Her voice called from the other room, no doubt where she was settling down to flick the movie on, her heart so delicate and gracious because she was still waiting for him. 
Even now, even when she was in his clothes and under the blanket she’d brought from her apartment for them to use on movie nights because it got cold too fast in his house, when she was waiting for him to come back. 
Spencer felt knocked out of a dream, like someone had yanked the chord on his music, shaken him awake into the freezing realisation she was waiting for a reply. 
He’d made her wait long enough. 
He barely heard her footsteps entering her own room, probably worried when he hadn’t responded and she said his name, “Spence?” A shudder rolled over his neck when he heard it, a siren song he’d been hearing like a mantra for weeks and he felt something fat and full well in his chest when he turned to look at her, standing there in nothing but boxers and a shirt, just as she had when he’d first met her. 
Except she was his. She was waiting on his call, on his signal, on his word go. 
And it was like the idea of being with her for the rest of his life made his living part worth it too. Like it always had done. 
Her eyes fell down to where his hand rested on top of the book, the page splayed open where he’d delicately flicked it open, the yellow post-it catching in the light and making her expression fall. 
They looked at each other, the same thought channelling between them, their brains meshed together on some other kind of bluetooth the same way they’d always done, only this time it was a prickling hive mind that gave them both gooseflesh the second they locked eyes. 
“Why didn’t you give me this?” He asked, his voice small because he already knew the answer, not daring to move a muscle like she was some kind of deer ready to be spooked. 
“You were busy,” She said equally as sheepish, her thumb moving to pick the side of her nail when she saw his still stature. They went quiet again, neither of them daring so much as to breathe too loud because they both knew what was on that note. It was the closest she could ever come to splitting open her own chest and handing him that thumping wad of bloodied muscle herself, and it was only when he turned to look at her did she panic, words tumbling from her lips; anything to stop him from walking away because she’d been poking around a fresh wound, “You weren’t supposed to see- I mean you were but only when you wanted to, I didn’t want you to think-”
Except he wasn’t heading for the door like she’d thought, he was heading straight for her. 
“Spence, please, I wasn’t going to tell you until-” But she’d shut up, because instead of replying anything back to her, instead of telling her she could have his heart and his soul and everything in between if she’d ever ask for it again, instead of telling her she was the thing that had kept him alive, like she might as well be the blood that rushed through every one of his veins, he grabbed her face in his hands so hard her back hit the wall, her hands flying out to stop herself from falling. 
And he kissed her, so hard he thought he might cry because it was better than any high he’d ever had, any drug on the market, better than his wildest dreams. She froze for a second, worried she’d tripped and fallen on her way over, that this was a concussion spun wild, because there was no way he was kissing her with every inch of their available skin pressing against one another, his hands swallowing her cheeks whole, his body invading her space, his breath rushing through her nose that bumped against his clumsily. 
Bugsy woke up after a second, her hands gripping onto his slender waist like he was pulling her drowning out of water, like he was dragging her from a flame which she didn’t think sounded too far off since her skin had become molten, her cheeks hot, her chest wrenching for control like she’d inhaled black smoke. 
But he was there, kissing her like she was all he had left, and she kissed him back with equal fervour, whimpering when he bit her lip, a hand wrapping around her waist to tug her just that bit closer to his stomach. Any molecule of her that was left behind was stolen by the action, and all she could think was that every inch of her was his, entirely his, his forever if he wanted it. 
“I love you, I love you so much,” He gasped, drawing away for a split second of air before he took her lips to his own once more, twice, and a third for good luck, their teeth knocking together as he wanted to tell her that a million more times while still kissing her, “I love you, I love you. God, I don’t think I ever want to stop saying it,” 
He pulled her to him again, silencing his own stupid ramblings of a mad man, a whine dragging from his throat as his brows furrowed, his lips soft and plump as he kissed her like he was begging for honey after a hundred day fast. 
And she smiled into his mouth, because Spencer was finally hers. 
--
taglist
@release-your-sweets s @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3
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kamesama · 9 months
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sukuna and yūji as siblings ( inspired by this post by @nessieartss )
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they are nearly spitting images of one another, but they get gravely offended if someone gets their names mixed up. calling yūji by sukuna's name is always followed by a scowl and his brows wrinkling his skin. sukuna's reaction is the same, making them even more similar. these offences lowered in number after sukuna got his face tattoos, however, they still happen every now and then.
on that note, although they behave differently and have nearly opposite worldviews, there are a couple of gestures that seem to be a shared muscle memory; the way they twist their necks and look at some wandering source of stupidity with the same unimpressed gaze being one of them. of course, they do so in a sync. the way they run their hand through their hair and scratch their head a little when confused. the way they fix their shirt and turn to the side in front of a mirror to judge its fit.
yūji is most definitely subjected to sukuna's insults, but he takes them pretty well; he puts up a fight of his own which sukuna appreciates ( invisibly ). he is happy to know his little brother is resilient. however, there are days where yūji simply cannot stomach the proportions of sukuna's asshole-ry. why are you such a prick?
fights — both verbal and non-verbal, physical and non-physical — are nearly a religious everyday routine. some days it's just sukuna walking by and ruffling yūji's hair as he leaves home, and some days it's a ferocious battle ending with yūji in a headlock because he responded to sukuna's random insult with an exasperated and serious, what the fuck is your problem, dude?
sukuna always ends up having an upper hand.
no one gets to bully sukuna's younger brother — other than him. sure, now when they are older, yūji can handle his own ordeals, but as children, one glare from sukuna was enough to provide salvation for his little brother. sukuna also had a way with their parents to get them out of trouble. how he managed to talk things out with them is beyond yūji even today, but sukuna always saved his ass, walking into crying yūji's room with a confident grin on his face to tell him problem's been solved and he can start kissing his feet.
sukuna found a scrunchie laying around at some point and gave yūji the worst time ever because he teased him so much.
yūji — god bless his wonderful soul — is undoubtedly the more respectful one of the two, unsurprisingly so. that pudding in the fridge that he knows belongs to sukuna? he doesn't touch it. he has no interest in it whatsoever. sukuna, on the other hand, will devour anything and everything he gets his hands on with no regard for ownership. i licked it so it's mine kind of logic. yūji starts hiding his snacks. sukuna nonchalantly finds them.
sukuna busts into yūji's room with nearly no announcement and regard. yūji, on the other hand, always knocks. at some point in the early teenagehood, sukuna's room was a yūji-free zone. no brats allowed. as such, yūji has lesser knowledge of sukuna's room than sukuna has of yūji's.
blackmail. threats. vile words and promises. "brat, give that back or you will never see your vanity fair jennifer lawrence poster again." "*gasp* you wouldn't." "oh, i will."
sukuna finds ways to get certain posters, photos, stickers, merch and absolutely whatever else yūji is dying to have, only to bully the poor boy. "can i see?" "no." "you don't even like that show!" however, these things always find their way onto yūji's desk in the end, or wind up under his bed. when they do, yūji strolls over to sukuna's room with the brightest sun-kissed smile on his precious mouth and expresses his gratitude with the utmost of sincerity and child-like joy. sukuna responds with aloof indifference and a middle finger. it's the tough love.
the times they do get along is when they watch movies together. it's never explicitly admitted, but it has to be their favourite way to spend time in each other's presence. they will binge a show, discuss characters, eat an unhealthy amount of snacks along the way, completely unfazed while someone's guts get clawed out and slurped on screen. horror movies are their forte but yūji successfully got sukuna hooked onto some slice-of-life romance drama here and there. if they are not watching something on some brimming-with-viruses-and-completely-illegal website at home, then they definitely go to the cinema.
the 3 am conversations about life happen. they chew on leftovers of a cold pizza, home alone, under the kitchen light, slowly and calmly commenting on the unyielding passage of time, importance of ambition and drive, and the paradox of life's meaningful meaninglessness. they do so for nine minutes before falling into silence and commenting how stupid that cliff hanger was and how a manga chapter will be delayed again.
yūji's music taste is a spectrum far wider than sukuna's, and although he prefers pop, there are some questionable and edgy songs that seem to crawl their way into his ear because sukuna keeps listening to them on high volume while showering.
surprisingly, yūji is messier than sukuna. both are relatively clean in a way that neither of their rooms resemble a pigsty, but yūji has stray hoodies on his chair or textbooks spread and splattered over his desk ( whether he actually reads them is a separate topic ). sukuna keeps his things relatively neat and leans more towards minimalism in certain aspects.
their styles most definitely clash, but not too drastically; sukuna always seems to wear something of a darker hue to the point yūji strongly questions if he owns something that isn't red, black, white or some shade of grey. on another hand, yūji adores his vivid colours; ugly mustard yellows and pastel pinks and forest greens. sukuna likes his accessories a little edgy but tasteful; yūji finds those to be a hassle because he moves around so much. however, they both seem to show affinity towards comfortable and casual wear.
because of their contrast in terms of dressing, they rarely steal borrow one another's clothes. however, there is a very cool-looking dark blue denim jacket of sukuna's that yūji's got heart eyes for, and every now and then he wears it without having asked for permission. yūji's cheeks are stuffed with his order of burger and french fries when he gets a call from sukuna. he picks up, and all that greets him is a frigid and irritated, brat, did you steal my jacket again? yūji swallows and hangs up.
yūji's socks keep disappearing. it takes him a while to realise it's because sukuna is stealing them, solely because they are made of cotton and comfy.
yūji likes sukuna's phone cases; most of them are dark-ish, sure, but they have this visual effect of elegance that makes the phone look nice. no, sukuna does not give them to his brother. the chambers of his heart are not that vast.
sukuna is more familiar with yūji's friend group than yūji is with sukuna's. he gets along with megumi, enough to acknowledge him as a good friend of his little brother. originally, he teased yūji about nobara, but once he met her, he stopped with a claim that there is zero chemistry between the two and that they're just no fun ( nobara gave him a death glare ). he calls them brats, collectively. on another hand, yūji is not well-versed enough to have a stable opinion of uraume, who seems to be sukuna's partner in crime, but he is very familiar with how irritating his brother finds yorozu who just cannot seem to stop annoying him.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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rookiesbookies · 9 months
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mischievous COD ideas😈
Heavily pregnant reader knowing that her hubby doesn’t want to be rough in the slightest with her due to her pregnancy and refrains from punishing her, so she abuses that fully to be a brat
To my sweet sweet brat reader, Im sorry if this is not all you hoped as I am a resident good girl. The one time I was a brat I got degraded (“such a good bitch”) and cried. I hope I do a good job portraying the relationships, if I dont let me know and I will edit it or rewrite sections that dont fit. You also didn’t specify so imma write for my usual set of lovelies. (Im also added Krueger because I’ve recently fallen in love with him a lil bit and he kinda fits thi)
The boys with pregnant brat wife
Price
This man is too worried about helping you get your shoes on. “You’re pregnant, isn’t not being able to see your feet punishment enough?” He’s not going to do much other than pinching you. Whether it’s your ass or your arm, and they’re hard “i had to discipline Soap subtly and im a dad” pinches. He’ll also use pressure points. Give the back of your arm the good pinch and twist. He’s just trying not to take it personally.
Soap
He’s googled what positions he can put you in. He’s googled if its safe for the baby. He has googled what he can and cannot do. He has spoke with your doctors about it, as embarrassing as that phone call was. And for certain punishments, its a long game. Like holding your ice cream you crave hostage until you learn. If he can’t make it sexual, he’ll find other ways.
Ghost
Like Price, he’s also using pressure points. Not the ones that knock you out but the ones that feel weird or make you got “ow”. Cannot get hard and it’s not because you’re not hot its bc he literally gets more flaccid than a limp noodle at the thought of possibly hurting that baby. He’s also very good at holding grudges and every time you brat out and walk all over him, he’s making a note on his phone for later.
Konig
Oh but he just got you to whine and cry you admit you want his cock. He knew eventually he could wait out your little game. “You acted out and now you must wait until I want to give it to you. You ask so nicely though, keep trying. I like when you beg.” He’s so mean, he’d make you wait until after you gave birth and however many times you acted out is how many weeks (or months depending on how he’s feeling) after you have to wait to get any pleasure from him.
Keegan
your toys aren’t doing it for you anymore? Nope. He’ll keep fluttering his fingers over you figure and let you use that tiny dildo he got you that cant even stretch you like he can. That’s all you get. His hands wont even go lower than your waist. They wont even touch close to your nipples. This is real torture. Every orgasm is so unfulfilling. I feel bad for you really. Hope this teaches you.
Gaz
He’s a doormat anyway. I don’t see him punishing anyone. He’s too much of a gentleman. I do believe he’d pull orgasm after orgasm out of you casually when you act up with his hands. Never giving you his dick as much as you beg. Pleading, crying for it, he wont budge. No you can deal with the consequences of your actions while he sits here and watches this movie. “Why aren’t you watching, love? You picked the movie. No, no, stop your whining, just sit and watch.”
Krueger
Sebastian doesn’t care. He’ll find other ways. Like right now you’re legs spread and hands flat against the wall as he spanks your ass, every time he does you have to say thank you and apologize for snapping at him. He knows you’re hormonal, but he’s going to make you apologize. Oh and he’s kissing away those tears and asking you if you understand what you do wrong while running you a nice bath and all the rubs and lotion for your poor butt.
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!
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IWTV rant incoming, spoilers for both seasons, be forewarned!
I've been seeing far too much Louis hate online recently, and while I'm of the opinion that none of these vamps are completely innocent by nature, I can't help but notice the disproportionate hate on my boy.
Honestly, it feels a little like fandom racism. And I think AMC IWTV fans have convinced themselves that they're beyond such things because of Jacob and Assad, but idk, everyone turning on the Black one at once seems... yucky?
First, I've seen a lot of "Louis is an abuser". Which... is a wild take on a show where most of the main characters hurt everyone around them?
I think some of it is coming from those who saw the episode in season 2 in which it is revealed that the big fight that Louis and Lestat had in S1 was more even than just Lestat beating up Louis, but y'all... we're not supposed to take S1 as a complete fabrication. A lot of y'all keep saying "oh, we haven't met the real Lestat." Sure, not in person and not from his POV until that ending, but we're not supposed to take it as Louis just lying outright. In the series, different from the books, OUR Louis calls Daniel back in 2022 to give him a more accurate version of the story. In the 1970s, he was just trash-talking Lestat. In 2022, he is remembering Lestat fondly while also remembering all the pain Lestat caused him. He only learns at the end of the season that Armand manipulated some of his memories. And only SOME. We're not supposed to think Armand made Louis misremember everything he and Lestat ever did together. So, we can take S1 as a version of the truth, even if it has some holes or misremembered parts... and in S1, Lestat is a scary guy. When Louis fought him, he was fighting a scary monster. You can't talk about it like he was a human man fighting his human partner because he got a little angry. He was a vampire fighting an even stronger vampire who, as far as Louis knew, was capable of awful things. And Lestat stalked Louis when he was still a human, fed on him without consent, killed the priests Louis turned to in fear... none of that was healthy courtship of a lover. To then turn around and call LOUIS the abuser? That's nuts.
And then there's Armand.
Armand is capable of great physical violence without even lifting a finger. You cannot look at me in the face and tell me that Louis slamming him into a wall was *abuse* after finding out that Armand mindfucked him for 70 years. After y'all saw what Armand did to Daniel. After Armand plotted Louis' death while manipulating Louis into thinking he was loved.
"Louis is an abuser" is a wild take after watching both of those seasons. Louis isn't an innocent princess, either, but compared to the two older vampires, he is the main victim of the story. Both Lestat and Armand emotionally abused him, manipulated him, and physically hurt him, and after all of it, he just ends up alone.
Now, believe me, I love Armand and Lestat. I think they're wonderfully awful people, and so much fun to watch, so fun to love, so fun to hate. But I think so many people left season 2 on their sides completely, just because Louis stood up for himself AND admitted that he was wrong about a lot of what he thought he remembered. And in all honesty, I think a lot of y'all like Sam and Assad because they're hot and... Jacob, while hot, is still Black. With Assad, you can give yourselves the benefit of the doubt because he's still a person of color, but he's a non-black person of color...
And Black people are not afforded softness or innocence, the way non-black people are. So, Louis doing something that's not good makes him not good, even if it's in the context of being a vampire. But Lestat and Armand get "brat prince" and "baby girl" even when they're cruel.
And also, it's not great to put the "abuser" label on someone standing up to their abuser. I dunno. Feels kinda yucky, in that sense, too.
Personally, I try to keep these people's vampire incarnations out of human morality, because being a vampire is inherently immoral because you need to kill to stay alive. So, like, when they physically fight, I can excuse it because they know they can't actually do much harm for the most part, because vampires heal fast and can't be easily hurt. But when... idk, you drop your fledgling from an extreme height, or cut someone's ankles and have them buried in rocks and locked away in a mausoleum... that's actually trying to hurt them (as Lestat admitted.)
And Louis' attempt to kill Lestat was because he and Claudia feared him. None of them disagree with that fact.
Anyway, have the same grace for the Black man that you do for your brat prince. Idk why y'all are trying to make Louis the bad guy. He never even asked to be a vampire. Lestat just wanted to keep him.
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xochimillilili · 11 months
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◇ About + DNI ◇
Asks: open <3
Dms: closed !!!
Welcome to my blog~ My name is Xochimilli, though I'm sure some of you would be eager to call me Sir
A 21 year old switchy vers genderqueer boygirl cat thing, It/He pronouns (yes capitalized :3)
My asks and dms are closed, because I'm a silly socially burnt out depressive bitch
If you cannot handle different time zones and the fact others have work and responsibilities don't even bother. Asks will not be answered right away, please take situation/time sensitive asks with a grain of salt.
Time Zone: GMT -6 • Mexico City
♡ Pet
My pet is the lovely @onetiredpup, or 🫀 puppy who I lovee and adore so so soooo much 💛 THE BOYFRIEND YIPPPEE YAYY HOORAYY :3 💛💛💛💛💛 A A AAAAAA AA AAAAAAA KISSING HIM KISSING HER HUGGING THEM SO TIGHTLY
◇Anon Pets◇
•🪐 • 🩻 • 🦇 • 🪲 • 🐻 • 🐼 • ⚰️ • 🌱 • doe • 🧜‍♀️ • 🫧 • 🌻 • 👑 • 🦦 • 🌌 • 🥺 • 🤍 • 🐾 • 🍰 • 🍑 • 🪣 • 👑🖤 • 🍊 • 🍤 • 🐈‍⬛ • 🪷 • 🐞 • 🐬 • 🌟 • 🏩 • ✴️
I also just reccomend not to interact if you just want the horny!!! I will rb anything n everything I want <3
◇DNI◇
Typical DNI, dont be a bitch to others. Raceplay, and ED blogs also dni, for personal reasons, I can and will block anyone I want to, this is my safe space. Minors and ageless blogs fuck off, I will block you
◇ Kinks ◇ Limits under cut ◇
Kinks◇
Petplay
Impact play
Soft Degradation + Praise
Bondage
Piss/Omo
Somno
Breeding
Pregnancy
Edging + Cum Denial
Free Use
Sub/Dom
Fauxcest
Knifeplay
Cnc
Intox (only alcohol)
Temperature play
Biting/Marking
Primal
Royalty play
Lactation/Milking
Musk/scent
Blood
Cockwarming
Stalking
Kidnapping
Objectum
Pain/Physical Injury
Possesiveness
Forcemasc
Monsterfucking
Gore (will not post about it)
Cannibalism (will not post about it)
Limits◇
Apart from what is included in the DNI, do not offer to include these. I either don't enjoy them personally or can't do/write for them !!!
Height difference (woahs dysphoria creator 9000)
Scat
Inflation
Raceplay
Brat taming (I am too soft for it)
Vomit
Cheating
AB/DL
Hypno
Sissy
Weight gain/Loss + Feederism
Subby Xochi shit->
Some stuff about when I'm subby because holy shit a lot of similar asks about me being a subby kitty recently lmao, keep in mind I am very much soft when in a sub mindset
Kinks
Petplay (kitty maybeee bunny), incredibly soft degradation, lots of praise, piss, somno, breeding, pregnancy, edging/cum denial, free use, alcohol intox, biting/marking, royalty play (i just wanna be a princess whose cared for), laction/milking, cockwarming, possesiveness, forcemasc, mommy/daddy
Terms I use
I literally don't give a shit what words you use for my body but I do enjoy enjoy having my general hole and cock area called princess parts and kitty parts when subby lol also my clit is my cock but like, my cock is my clit yknow?
My gender is cool, call me a good girl or princess, along with most masc terms!!! Kitty words also get my mind all WOAHS
Ummm, aaaa aa aaaaa fuck I don't know just writing about how I liked being refered to as "kitty" and "princess" gets me blushing LMAOOOO I am just babie fr, I literally cry when I cum,,, I just like being cared for and given sooo much attention and kind of spoiled and babied with lotssss of praise and words of affection,,, im dom for the horny but subby for the being cared for lmao,,, being subby lets me not worry about anything but being good so yayayayaaaa get me to just relax for once
My puppy's good boy chart ♡
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Good boy chart for my lovely puppyyyyy, my sweet boyfriend @onetiredpup 💛 So so sooo excited for using it with him !!!! Will update it as they get stickers :3 so everyone can see what a good boy she is~
based off @/droolypupboy's chart !!!!
◇ More: (aka xochi doesn't stfu<3)
I am literally just queer, in gender and sexuality, I am just a queer fuck !!!! My gender is just I am God, because I fucking am God. I have a boyfriebd. I have a boyfriend. Did I mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend and I love him I love my boyfriend with my whole being 💛 My boyfriend my beloved kissing her face right now actually because I love them and my blog is literally more or less for him !!! All my posts are lil love letters in a way n I like making my love loud and very very shown to everyone ♡
Dom top leaning switch, will only sub for my love
Autistic and ADHD, and mentally ill, and chronically pained– Age regressor will always log out before regressing. Also a full time student, don't fret if I don't answer right away~
Living in a shit ass town, long periods of silence are usually due to floods or power outages, or when age regressing.
◇Xochi is a real person I am not horny all the time lmao
A former part time librarian and part time English teacher now graphic design student ^_^ i am trying to create a good future for myself and create the life I want <3
I'm a pretty big softie at heart, expert crybaby, expert emotion feeler, expert at caring too much. I am also good at being dumb and laughing too much at stupid shit :3
I like stuff apart from masturbating and getting others horny~ Like drawing, Sky: Children of the Light, Sanrio (My Melody my beloved ♡), Percy Jackson, Artemis Fowl, Pretty Cure, plushies and cooking to name a few things I like, so don't be afraid to just talk about my interests! I'm not scary I promise :]
◇ Tags ◇
#xochimilli writes -> Orignal text posts
#xochimilli answers◇ -> Answering asks
#xochimilli comfort ->Only comfort more sfw
#xochimilli speaks ->Me bitching about stuff
#xochi is the breeding bitch -> Bottom/Sub POV writings
#important◇ -> important shit lmao
#☆lynn no mires☆ ->irl Xochi, audios and pictures
#🫀puppy-> For my love, my bf, my sweetheart, the one who fills my whole heart and my sunshine :3 ♡
#🫀💛 -> sweet little reblogs that make me think of them ♡
♱𝖋𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖔𝖙♱ <- matchy matchy for my bestie my beloved HOLAAA SEÑOR GACHA AAAAAAA
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lloydfrontera · 2 months
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my biggest gripe with the manhwa rn is that they made javier more of an asshole than he is in the novel and then took away most of the scenes where we see him being kind and soft with others.
javier can be an ass, he is a brat and he's especially annoying when he's with lloyd, but above anything else he is kind and loyal and selfless and good. i cannot emphasize enough how good javier is. he's the kind of person who cannot see someone in trouble or danger and do nothing about it. he's the kind of person who would sacrifice his life for total strangers and no hope of any reward. he's the kind of person who can't even enjoy a lavish party without feeling guilty because he'd much rather help people in need with that money.
he's so fucking good, lloyd is a little annoyed by it because he keeps getting dragged into life-threatening situations because javier just won't stop helping people they don't even know. mind you, lloyd is also endeared by this and would not want him to change but god can it be frustrating in his endeavor to keep them both alive.
there's this particular scene that i just. i'm so sad it was cut. where javier is helping around the refugee camp, going without sleeping and eating so he can focus on helping as many people as possible and then he spots a little kid that got lost on his way back. so he decides to help him.
and he's so gentle with this kid.
Javier walked over to the kid and called him. The flustered boy looked up. Javier strove to put on a warm smile on his face. "Are you lost?" “...” The boy nodded, his eyes all wet. Javier carefully stroked the boy's head. "I think I can help you with that. Why don't you let me help find your tent?" suggested Javier. “...” The boy nodded again. "But why didn't you eat the food? It's going to get cold. Are you not hungry?" "I am… hungry," the boy finally said. But what he said next caught Javier by surprise. "But I won't eat it," said the boy. "Why not?" "My mother is hungrier." "Is that so?" "Yes." “...” Javier wondered why this kid came out to take the food when he had a mother. There must be a reason, he thought to himself. He held out his hand. "I will hold the tray for you." "..." "I won't spill it. I promise." "Okay..." Javier took the tray and wrapped the boy’s hand with his own.
like. god. javier is not a naturally warm person. he's very reserved and stoic and sometimes outright cold, but he still tries so hard with this kid. because he knows what it's like to be him. he knows what it's like to be a child and be scared and hungry and without a home. and he remembers how much it meant for a kind adult to reach out a hand to him and help. and he wants to be that to others too.
everything he does, he does because he genuinely believes it's the right thing to do and therefore his obligation. and even when it doesn't come naturally to him, like being warm and gentle to a child, he still tries his best to do so.
and like that wasn't enough, when they finally find the kid's mom, javier finds out she's blind. recently blinded actually. that she used all her strength to get her child to safety and now she has to depend on him to take care of them because she can't do it anymore. her blouse is smudged with porridge.
so javier kneels down and explains who he is, why he's there and that he wants to help. he lifts up a spoonful of food and slowly and carefully starts to feed her himself. she's a complete stranger and javier doesn't hesitate one second to do this for her.
this is who javier is!! this is who he is at his core!! he's kind and he's selfless and he's above all else good!!
if your audience can't imagine javier comforting a child, then you failed your audience. you missed the point of his character.
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love-toxin · 10 months
Note
ellie!!! do you have thots for welt as well because i am on my knees for this man. daddy
ab-so-fruitely bro his idle animations make me go nutso fr....
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welt -> casual dominance dilf....he's not a public person but on the express there's a total 180. makes up for all the times he doesn't touch you in public with a kiss here, a grab of your hand there, touches on the small of your back, gloved fingers digging into your inner thigh while you sit together. the belts aren't just for show, he has you wear one of his like a garter so you can carry a concealed weapon for safety. sure. it's really just so he can tie it tight every morning and look up at you on his knees, for him to know there's something of his on you always so you can wear it like a wedding band. 100% husband duties even when he's just a friend, but he doesn't stay a friend for long. he eats up your attention regardless of the role he plays in your life, and eventually it gets to the point that he just simply cannot exist without your love. he needs a dose of it every day or he feels his strength slipping out of his grasp. you make him feel young, and handsome, and desirable, just like he did back when he was a bright-eyed young adventurer. the whole universe is open to him, but when he looks out at the horizon all he sees is you.
(nsfw -> fem + masc pronouns, daddy kink)
fem!reader -> being a daddy dom feels a little odd after so much time separated from it, but he slots back into the role quickly and efficiently as he does everything else. and it helps for you, because welt is an absolutely deplorable munch. your pussy could be categorized as an obsession, but it teeters on the edge of addiction for welt. he fixates on how it pulses, what makes you the wettest, how it resists him like it wants out but sucks him back in like it also can't let go, how just his fingertips brushing through your folds can have you squirming with need....fascinating isn't quite the right word, but he is fascinated with everything that lies between your legs. there are times he'll soak a hot, damp stain in the front of his pants and not even realize it, his touch-free orgasm coming in second to his attempts to make you squirt. he starts wearing contacts with his glasses just so when he's gotta take them off he can still see you in all your glory. he loves calling you pretty baby while you're cumming, "my pretty baby, you're so precious, let it all go for me" he can't quit blabbering so he tries to talk you through it with that deep, gravelly tone that vibrates right through your clit and up your whole body. never did he think he'd feel guilty for making a beautiful girl cum so many times, but the process of teaching you the art of squirting means you're left shaking and soaked more often than not, your grip almost crushing him as you cling to your lover and let him kiss you down from the high.
but daddy's only sweet like that when you're good. when you're a brat--teasing him in public, distracting him from work, interrupting him on repeat--you get your tongue grabbed, your ass thoroughly spanked with a belt, and not a hint of the spoiling you usually get as he makes you get off on his cane. only once you rub yourself up against it enough will he let you use his leg next, and maybe, maybe if you cum quietly and beg him for forgiveness, he'll perch you on his good knee and let you kiss him while he catches up on the work you interrupted. but try acting up again in the process, and he might just have to slip his cock into your mouth and lock a belt around your neck to keep you there--and keep you quiet--until you can behave like a good girl for daddy.
male!reader -> your nickname is pretty boy for sure. he feels like such a dirty old man for corrupting you like he does, but it's hard to help when you just sound so pretty mewling "daddy" into his ear. he can't even bring himself to gag you when you're getting too loud, so he just clamps one of those gloved hands over your mouth and urges you to hush, cause if you don't stay quiet like you promised then daddy won't rub your cock like you need. and as often as he knows you've gotten off when he's gone by humping his pillow, he knows you do need him to touch you when he's here cause he's trained you to. you're daddy's pretty boy after all; needy, whiny, cute, and absolutely ripe for a good railing to ensure you don't get too mouthy. brat training is in his blood, and it's definitely something he likes to spice things up, but you both like it much more when he gets to reward you, right?
and just like he is with pussy, welt is just about obsessed with your pretty cock. he loves the veins and the way it twitches when you moan, how the tip gets all flushed and shiny as his tongue strokes over it. there's always a good reason to give you a polish, even if it's been a long day or a strenuous battle and welt just wants to rest. it's a bit like a stress reliever for him; sitting you on his face or with your cock in his mouth is his preferred way to unwind, especially since it saves him the strain in his hips that would come even with normal, daily activity. but of course, if you want to be on top, he's not necessarily opposed to that....he just has to make sure you're either very gentle with him, or his schedule can easily be cleared for the next day. cause when he's bottoming, whether it's your strap or your cock, there's a good chance his legs won't stop shaking when he gets all that love and attention turned back on him.
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Poor Boy
Alright so, apparently the rule for me is going to be that I have to watch every Only Friends episode multiple times. Because the first watch through is just vibes and pure, unadulterated emotional reactions to whatever is being laid in front of me; and the second watch through I have to keep pausing the show every thirty seconds to make another observation.
I don’t know what it is about Episode 4s but they are always where everything starts kicking in to high gear for me. Now, not sure how many more academic papers I am going to be able to write for the bit for this show, but there are so many things about body language, about hands, about relationship dynamics, about drug use, etc that are swarming in my head at this point. 
In constantly talking some other tumblr users ears off about this show, @lurkingshan tasked me with writing a post about Only Friend’s seventh main character.
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The POOR BOY shirt. 
Why? Because god are there already some juicy literal and metaphorical character dynamics at play with this shirt, (at least in my perception) and I have been commanded to discuss them, and if you have not realized it by now I love discussing my silly little gay shows. 
What is initially and primarily intriguing to me is the fact that the Poor Boy shirt ends up making rounds in the show. Sand gives the shirt to Ray → Ray keeps the shirt rather than returning it to Sand → Ray gives the shirt to Mew. 
To each of these characters, the shirt means something different, not only from a place of sentimentality, but from a literal, textual meaning. 
Sand
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Sadly, we have not yet seen Sand wear the Poor Boy t-shirt, but he is the original owner. From my view, Sand’s relationship to the t-shirt is fairly simple. It is a literal translation of Sand’s own economic status. Sand is poor, and the Poor Boy t-shirt speaks directly towards his everyday reality. 
Sand’s decision to put Ray in this shirt feels petty. Sand is very aware that Ray is rich. (I mean, his first words to Ray when they wake up the next morning are “you’re up, rich boy?”) Now, obviously we cannot peer in to Sand’s mind about the fashion choices he is making, but the entertainment value of seeing this rich boy in a poor boy shirt was there. In this capacity, the Poor Boy shirt serves as a physical manifestation of the wealth disparity between Sand and Ray. Sand owning that shirt is a literal statement, Ray wearing that shirt is hilariously ironic. 
Or is it? 
Ray
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We know (or at least can suspect) that Ray has some sort of alcohol dependence from the very first moment we meet him, based on his ascribed role as The Drunk. On the off chance the initial reaction was not “oh this kid is an alcoholic” the narrative continues to build that aspect of Ray’s character when his second trip to the bar also results in him getting plastered, and when he drinks from a flask in the middle of the day, and when he is constantly seen on screen with a whiskey glass in his hand. 
Now, I will not say that everyone who is an alcoholic drinks as a trauma response, but I will say that there are many people who use substances to cope with life stressors. So, when I see Ray with alcohol constantly, that is an indication to me that there is maybe something more beneath the surface of his party boy aura. 
We learn in Episode 2 that Ray’s mother died and he was present for her death (#trauma). [In case you didn’t notice, Ray’s mother died with an empty glass in her hand and empty liquor bottle at her side.]
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Sand jokingly calls Ray out on his motivation for paying Sand to hang out with him: “Now I know. You’re a lonely spoiled rich brat. Your friends left you because they have lovers. That’s why you need a new friend. Your life is dramatic. Poor you.” 
Sand says it teasingly, with a smile on his face. But Ray? Ray turns his back to Sand, takes a long pull from his glass, and heads over to the record player.
Perhaps you know where I am going with this already, but I want to just take a second to review the order of events by which I am going to make my final conclusions about this shirt in relation to Ray. 
Episode 1
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Ray is introduced piss drunk and hanging on to the edge of the toilet for dear life, he is quick to anger, he gets drunk at the bar again, he tries to drive home, Sand drives him back to his apartment, he wakes up in the Poor Boy shirt, he gets kicked out of Sand’s apartment for being a #rudeboy, Ray calls Mew, Mew wonders how he got to Sand’s place when Boston said he would take care of Ray. In short, Ray gets extremely drunk, is abandoned by all of his friends, taken home by Sand and as a result is adorned with the Poor Boy t-shirt. 
Episode 2 
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Our first Ray sighting in Episode 2 he is sitting outside drinking a nip, alone. No one inside the hostel even questions where he is. Mew is the one that goes outside to check on him, calls out his drinking habits, and tells Ray “I can’t be your emergency staff all the time”. Ray sees Sand selling something on campus and follows him around. He breaks Sand’s plum wine bottles and then offers him 10,000 bhat to just hang out, drink, and listen to music. Sand learns about Ray’s dead mother. Ray goes wakeboarding with the rest of the college pals, Ray tries to help Cheum, makes her ankle hurt worse, and literally the only person that talks to him besides to tell him to stop (Chuem) and to question his ability to help (Top) (aka the only person who engages in casual conversation with Ray) is Mew. Ray has his second hang out with Sand, Sand calls out the fact that Ray’s friends have abandoned him because they all have lovers, he says he will be friends with Ray, and Ray and Sand fuck. 
Episode 3
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Episode 3, Ray clings to Sand the morning after, offers to drive him to school, volunteers to handle the music for the pool party (much to the surprise of all of his friends). Ray then spends most of the rest of his screen time either flirting with Sand or simping over Mew. Top belittles Ray, Boston calls out Ray’s crush on Mew and calls Ray’s life dramatic, Ray is left alone at the party and runs in to Sand, offers to take Sand home, starts making out with Sand, and then interrupts the guaranteed dicking down that he just convinced Sand to make an exception for when he pulls himself fully and instantly out of that make out session to answer Mew’s call, pissing off Sand. 
Episode 4
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Episode 4 opens with (yet another) show stopping performance by Khaotung (seriously this dude is a powerhouse) where we learn that Ray was at one point actively suicidal and made an attempt. We learn in a very short period of time there that Ray does not have a lover, a sibling, or family that he feels like he can rely on. Mew is his emergency contact because he is the only person who is consistently taking care of Ray. On the phone with Mew, Ray says “If I’m gone, I won’t be anyone’s burden anymore, right?” When Ray breaks down sobbing as Mew holds him, Ray says “No one loves me. I’m all alone. Everyone hates me. My mom never loved me. Her life was ruined because of me. She died because of me. She never hugged me like this, you know? I’m bad luck, Mew. No one loves me!” and it is at this point that we can look back at all these other interactions Ray has had over the three prior episodes and see that two years after his suicide attempt, he is still being called a burden by friends and strangers, he is still alone.
[As an aside: I want to make it extremely clear that there is a lot of juicy complexity to Ray’s dynamic with his friend group. I am not saying that his friends are inherently bad people for the distance they place between themselves and Ray. First, they are college students, second Ray has a lot of mental health and addiction things going on that they are not equipped to handle, and having to constantly manage a friend with an addiction, especially one that can make them escalate situations really quickly (see Ray ready to fight Sand in the bathroom within like, thirty seconds of talking) is challenging. But I am also not going to absolve them entirely of the kind of statements they make about Ray, when they don’t return his ‘i love yous’ when he’s drunk and when they call him a burden, because these are things that were such a strong part of his belief system that they are part of the driving thoughts he verbalizes when he tries to kill himself.]
While it took us fully four episodes to get there, we find that the Poor Boy t-shirt that Ray wakes up wearing in Episode 1, while inaccurate for his literal financial reality, is incredibly, aggressively precise and accurate to Ray’s emotional reality. 
Mew
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Cutting back to present day in Episode 4, Mew has been picked up by Ray and brought over to his house to spend the night. Ray’s first action in the scene is to turn to the coat rack he has in his room, pull a white shirt from it, and hand it to Mew to change in to for pajamas. Ray asks Mew why Top didn’t pick him up and Mew states that he did in fact call, but Top was busy fucking Boston helping his dad at the hotel. Ray makes a comment about being a substitute and feeling forgotten when Mew is with Top, Mew tells Ray that he is his most beloved friend, and then he looks at the shirt, turns it around to show Ray and asks:
“Is this yours?”
Now, I assume Ray is aware of what shirt he gave Mew to wear, but there is something disconnected in what I am reading from Ray’s reaction to seeing Mew hold up the shirt. 
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To me it seems a bit like Ray is...not surprised, but perhaps uncertain? He knows that shirt is Sand’s but he has spent all this time at the party trying to convince Mew that he isn’t interested in Sand, that there is no attraction between them, because Ray is still hung up on Mew and some part of him is hoping there is a chance. Ray lets Mew tease him “Poor boy, seriously? How dare you wear this?”
Ray remains quiet, until Mew once again presses Ray about getting together with Sand.
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 “Why don’t you hit on Sand? I think he’s lovely” (preface- I do not know Thai, but I do know that ‘narak’ typically means cute. Mew definitely says ‘narak’ when he refers to Sand, but it is translated as lovely so the caption may not be completely accurate). “I want you to have a boyfriend. Dating a musician is freaking cool.”
Now, there are a couple things I see at play in this moment. First, I am pretty certain that Mew is still very much aware of Ray’s crush on him. I think the casual comments Mew makes about Top being the first person to make his heart tremble and how heavily he is pushing Ray to ask Sand out or even to just try to figure out if Ray does genuinely have interest in Sand are ways for Mew to kindly, gently remind Ray that he does not reciprocate any romantic feelings. 
Secondly, Mew is and will be commenting on traits that apply to either himself or adjacently to Ray. When Mew says dating a musician is freaking cool, we know he is referring to Sand who is actually a musician. But for Ray, who is desperately in love with Mew, is it too far of a stretch for Ray to believe that Mew’s sentiment may also apply to people with really strong tastes and interests in music?
Third, Boston has stirred up some resolve in Ray from the party, trying to convince him that he needs to tell Mew that he is interested, to even have a fighting chance at maybe getting Mew to date him. So he lies: 
“No. I don’t want to be in a relationship just yet. Besides, Sand isn’t my type.” 
Something I absolutely love about Only Friends so far is that no one is telling the truth 100% of the time, but also no one is lying 100% of the time and we don’t yet know enough about most of the characters here to be completely certain which parts they are being truthful about. Nick is lying to Boston, or at least keeping secrets from him (he did not tell Boston he bugged the car), but he will fully, easily, and readily admit to Sand that he bugged the car and recorded Boston and Top having sex. He will fully, easily, and readily admit that he is nasty and also that he isn’t trying to blackmail Top. Top will omit the information that he slept with Boston, but he will admit to drug use and pull a baggie of coke out of his pocket to show Mew. Some of my mutuals are still in debates around how much Top is lying, including whether or not he is telling the truth about the fire he was in as a child, etc. 
In this case for this scene with Mew, we know Ray is lying about not wanting to be in a relationship. He does want to be in a relationship…with Mew. But is he lying about Sand not being his type? It would certainly track, considering Ray was the one that initiated the sexual relationship between them and continued to pursue it. Yet at the same time, Ray is stopping in the middle of a make out session, disregarding Sand’s feelings entirely, and taking Mew’s call. And Sand’s lack of wealth is something Ray has exploited or tried to exploit on multiple occasions. (Which is in part why it is very important to recognize the second Sand realizes he may actually be enjoying Ray’s company, that he rejects all offers of money from Ray).
As Mew continues to talk, he continues to state advice that could apply to himself: “Don’t set your standards too high.” Ray is a drunken mess of a college boy, and if Mew is telling him not to set his standards too high, wouldn’t it also be possible that Mew could see Ray as a lower standard and still decide to date him? 
“Just date someone who loves you and takes care of you.” Mew is the only person that really seems to take care of Ray at this point. Boston abandoned him, Cheum doesn’t really interact with him all that much, Top hates him, etc. When Ray attempted suicide Mew said he loved him, when Ray attempted suicide Mew said he would always be there for him. Mew has supported Ray for so long, Mew has taken care of Ray for so long. And now Mew is casually naming the qualities of his good friendship to Ray as a recommendation of how to find someone to date. 
So to me, it makes total sense that Ray would try to kiss Mew and admit his feelings. 
But why is the Poor Boy shirt relevant to Mew? 
Because there is someone else we have seen take care of Ray multiple times already…
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Sand. 
The OPB (original poor boy). 
Sand says he can differentiate between love and lust, but the ease at which he relents to Ray’s puppy dog eyes, the speed by which is is made upset at being abandoned by Ray, the safeguards he has in place that he is constantly undermining, we know that if Sand is not already in love with Ray he will be getting there fast.
In my opinion, the Poor Boy shirt acts not as any form of physical or emotional commentary for Mew’s state specifically, but serves instead as Ray subconsciously projecting Sand on to Mew. Despite how quickly and strongly Ray has been drawn towards Sand in recent episodes, despite the good vibes, and good sex they’ve had going on, despite their mutual attraction to one another and some matching interests, Ray has given this reminder of the first care Sand provided (despite throwing him out after Ray gave him an attitude) to Mew. And it’s not like Ray hasn’t had the opportunity to give Sand back his t-shirt. Ray and Sand have hung out there at least twice and fucked each other in Ray’s bedroom. But Ray hung on to the shirt, why? 
Sand’s shirt on Mew’s body is misplaced, either as a subconscious acknowledgement of his growing interest in Sand or as a way for Ray to physically place reminders of the care and attention Sand has been giving him on to Mew, who Ray is still crushing on, even as Mew has slowly started to pry himself away from the responsibility of taking care of Ray.
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And as we approach the end of Episode 4, we see Ray start to realign his expectations, settling in to the reality that Mew has not, does not, and never will like him romantically. We are introduced for the first time, to a physical, tangible object that Ray owns that is connected to Mew and to Ray’s relationship with Mew as a result. Ray sits in the tub, the same tub he tried to die in two years ago, the same tub Mew held him in two years ago and told him he loved him and promised to always be there for him.
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Ray thinks about what this pendant symbolizes, the words Mew told him when he gifted it to Ray: “You are the brightness, you are a ray of sunshine. You should be hot and lively.” Ray says at the beginning that his friends hate him, that he is all alone. So I don’t think it is a far stretch of the imagination by any means to say that Mew may be one of the first if not the first person in years to make Ray feel like he was loved, valued, supported, and understood. 
And it is not surprising as a result of that that Ray would fall in love with Mew, especially if Ray’s addiction has been ongoing for years and he has been a difficult person to maintain friendship with. 
Ray has crossed boundaries and suffered immediate consequences as a result, but those consequences included finally hearing directly from Mew that his feelings have not changed over the last two years. Ray is drunk 99.9% of the time, that doesn’t mean he’s blacked out by any means, but it does mean that frequently his judgment is going to be inhibited. It is highly likely, in my eyes, that Ray needed the direct admission rather than Mew’s gentle rejections over the last two years. 
With Mew finally voicing his regard of Ray as only a friend, Ray is now able to re-evaluate the advice Mew gave to Ray at the beginning of the episode, and consider who else (besides Mew himself) Mew’s statements might apply to. The answer, of course, was staring him in the face the entire time. With the Poor Boy shirt removed from Mew’s back, Ray is forced to understand the shirt more as a physical tie to Sand, like the keychain is a physical tie to Mew. 
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(hehe this angle makes it look like it says Poo Boy or Poop Boy) 
Ray looks at the shirt and thinks back to the record shop not-a-date with Sand, the honesty Sand had with him, the ease at which Sand shared information about himself, his interests, the gentleness with which Sand treated Ray, even just placing the headphone on him. Ray thinks of the song they listened to together, titled เรา which translates to “we” and he makes his choice. 
Looking forward: I am curious if this shirt will continue to make its rounds, with Top having recently fucked Boston, there is also a total possibility that Mew is being branded as the Next Poor Boy whose life will fall apart as truths are revealed and consequences enacted. 
Thank you to @lurkingshan for edits and observations!
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kage-567 · 5 months
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Sukugo fic recs because it's a scarcity
So I noticed there were a very few sukugo fic recs around here, as a fellow fan myself, this simply cannot stand so I decided to add to the contribution. Here you go folks (for anyone who hasn't read them already).
A funny thing happened on the way to therapy
Satoru Gojo is no stranger to challenge. He’s faced off against hordes of curse users, defeated the strongest of cursed spirits, laughed in the face of reality’s limits and defied even death itself. But this…This new challenge could perhaps be the most difficult yet—infinitely worse than all the others combined:
Couple’s therapy.
——
After a highly experimental cursed technique goes wrong (right?), Satoru and Sukuna become fathers to a miracle child, Yuuji. Of course, the higher-ups in Jujutsu society are not impressed, and in a desperate bid to protect Yuuji from harm, Satoru comes up with a plan so crazy that it just might work: a fake relationship. With Sukuna.
Maybe Satoru should’ve thought this through.
Infinite Nuisance
“I’m blocked from interacting with the world beyond this Domain so I cannot relay any of this to the Brat. Something clearly wants you trapped in here,” Sukuna scoffed. “I cannot fathom why.”
Gojo’s lips quirked up into a smirk.
“Maybe a punishment from the Gods?” he suggested coyly.
Sukuna rolled his eyes.
“I would never punish myself in this way, so I doubt that."
Gojo blinked at him once. Then twice, before a startled laugh escaped him.
“Did you just call yourself God?”
- When a strange incident leads to Gojo being trapped along with the King of Curses in Sukuna's Innate Domain, what everyone assumes would lead to destruction surprisingly grows into something more.
As Sukuna and Gojo are forced to interact and learn more about each other, they realise that hatred isn't the only tie that binds them.
And, as Sukuna quickly realises, he is far from prepared for the unlikely temptation that is Gojo Satoru.
So someone with your eyes might come in time. To hold me like water. Or Christ, hold me like a knife.
Looking into the face of his future opponent, the face of his soulmate, Sukuna was struck by the thought that this moment, this one night of honesty between him and Gojo, was their Goodbye.
Despite what the future might hold, despite who they were and where their respective paths were taking them, they deserved a proper farewell.
Or, at the very least, Gojo did.
When in Doubt, Buy Him a Brand New Lamborghini
Satoru Gojo had everything he wanted in life.
His father is the CEO of a multi-million dollar company. His face is nothing short of perfection. He's popular and charismatic. Everyone wants a piece of him, whether or not its for his looks and money. He's the perfect man in every sense possible. So why is it that the only light of his life, his precious boyfriend and his one and only lover, decided to dump him without warning and leave him at his best?
Out of misery, Gojo decides to agree when his dear friend Shoko suggests they go to a street takeover. What he doesn't expect is to find unexpected joy in the commotion of it all. And within that commotion emerges Ryomen Sukuna, a racecar drifter who might just turn his entire life around.
You know what they say: When one door closes, another opens.
____
OR: Gojo falls head over heels for street car racer Sukuna after getting dumped in front of his local KFC.
Like Fire and Oil
Now in full view, Satoru could see that the boy had strange black markings on his forehead and cheeks, as well as a second pair of eyes below his normal one. With every approaching step, he was seeming less and less human.
“You’re…”
And while Satoru didn’t know how it could be possible, while he didn’t know what this King of Curses looked like or even quite remembered his name, somehow he just knew. Somehow, everything clicked.
“Sukuna.”
Stopping just a few steps in front of him, Sukuna smirked, baring a set of sharp teeth.
“And what if I am, Six Eyes?”
---
Sometimes the universe makes it so that when a force of great power is born, a force of equal power is created to counter it. This is a story about those two forces colliding more than a decade earlier than intended, and how sometimes unlikely circumstances result in even more unlikely friends.
[NOTE: There won’t be any ships in this fic, with the sole exception being potentially hinted Satoguru. All other benevolent relationships are platonic.]
The Fox Unaware of the Snare
"You intrigue me, sorcerer." Sukuna says. "Let us create a Binding Vow."
Binding Vows were useful as they were deadly. He'd regret it, should he accept to do so. But Gojo has never done anything without knowing he couldn't handle it, so why did it matter?
"Why not? Tell me your terms first."
Considering that, as long as he lived, no mortal force could ever convince Gojo on what to do.
After losing a fight with Sukuna, Gojo fulfills the Binding Vow and becomes his concubine, as odd as it sounds. And maybe it's just the constant dance with death that Gojo ends up falling for someone who is the very epitome of the word itself. Unfortunately, it comes with consequences much worse than teaching a human who's known nothing but the shadows how to love.
(Or, Gojo roamed the earth back during the Heian Era. This changes many courses of events.)
Teachings of love
They say the Reversed Curse Technique works as long as the head isn't severed. Gojo has come back once before, what is to say it wouldn't happen a second time? After all, throughout Heaven and Earth, he alone is the Honored One.
With the Hands of Gold
Satoru survives the Battle of the Strongest; the King of Curses heals him, and as a result, Satoru loses his memories. His survival means many things and causes many things.
|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|
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themorriganwitch · 1 year
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Top Gun: Maverick Kink Headcanons
Summary: Headcanons for 5 kinks 5 particular Daggers have
Words: 1k 
Characters: Bradley Bradshaw, Natasha Trace, Jake Seresin, Bob Floyd, Pete Mitchell, also includes some IceMav
A/N: Includes NSFW Content, 18+ only MDNI!!, English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes. 
Masterlist 
_______________________________________________________________________
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw 
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-   Choke kink – on the few occasions where he let you take the lead and let you bounce on top of him, he wants nothing more than your tiny fingers wrapped around his throat. And when you squeeze him just right – he could come in that exact moment.
-       Daddy Kink – I don’t know why, maybe it’s just the vibe he gives or maybe it’s me wanting to call him Daddy, he definitely has one. Amen.
-       Overstimulation – God, how he loves seeing you completely messed up, tears straining your cheeks after he gave it to you so good again and again and again.
-       Impact Play – How he loves watching your ass jiggle, your flesh red and hot from where he put his hands.
-       Breeding Kink – Nothing he would ever think about during his frat boy years but after finding his soulmate he cannot imagine something sweeter that seeing you pregnant with his child.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin
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-  Breeding kink – that man wants to see your belly round and your tits swollen. Could be the southern boy from a huge family in him or just him in general. No matter what – that man wants to see you pregnant with his child.
-       Cockwarming – Jake being the touchiest human on planet earth loves nothing more than feeling your walls hugging him perfectly close, especially after coming right back from a long deployment.
-       Edging – He’s a teasing piece of shit. Nothing gets him more going than hearing you beg for his cock.
-       Exhibitionism – slipping his hand between your thighs while sitting at dinner with Rooster and his girlfriend knowing only, he can feel the wet patch on your panties even though you are in a room full of people, that’s probably the best dinner he ever had.
-       Brat Taming – Mouth ‘Make me’ at him, after he admonished you several times for you teasing him on a navy ball and will fully loose his shit as soon as you come home.
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Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell  (Most of these involve IceMav)
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- Rank Kink – oh how Mav adores when you call him Captain. But he adores it way much more calling Ice by his rank when the admiral rewards him for not annoying the shit out of Cyclone.
-       Spit Kink- That man likes to get messy in the sheets, add some dominance vibes to it and he is a happy man.
-       Threesomes – Not with everyone of course but he would lie if says that he never thought about you, Ice and him getting messy in the sheets.
-       Switch: With everyone but Ice, Mav is probably the dominant part. But as soon as him and Ice are alone, he fully submits to his Admiral, knowing he would never regret it.
-   Brat Taming: Ice taming Mav after he spend another day driving Cyclone and the whole Navy insane – it’s not a headcanon but universal.
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Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd 
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- Dom / Sub dynamic – being always underestimated by his co-workers and superiors Bob loves nothing more to come home after a rough day and reward someone for doing exactly what he tells them to do. And he will always take such good care of you.
-       Bondage: he might look innocent with his birth control glasses and everything, but he goes absolutely feral seeing you tied up and helpless (fully consensual of course) in front of him
-       Voyeurism – you, laying spread wide open on your shared king size bed while he sits on a chair across the room, watching you touch yourself and moaning his name – that’s how images heaven
-       Brat Taming – Polite and kind bobby loves nothing more than showing his brat of a girlfriend how to behave correctly when escorting him to a navy ball.
-       Aftercare – it’s not really a kink but since our beloved backseater is someone (honestly unsurprising) who likes it wild in the sheets, he knows how important it is to take good care of you after you’re done. He always has some water and snacks stock in his drawer next to the bed and he always cleans you up softly before he cuddles you until you fall asleep in his arms.  
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Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace
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-  Choke Kink – the thought of you pressed under her, her hands lightly squeezing your throat while she rides you with her favorite strap on – that’s what helps her to keep going through a tough workday.
- Rank Kink – kinda similar to Bobs Dom/Sub thing – being one of the few female aviators who graduated top gun Nat had always to keep up with her co-workers not taking her serious and making fun of her (*Cough*Hangman) she absolutely goes feral if you call her “Lieutenant”, while she serves you.
-   Edging – She’s incredibly similar to Jake when it comes to this (not that this is something she would like to hear)
-       Sensory Deprivation – After a long day of flying and always being ultra-focused on watching the environment up in the air, Nat highly appreciates to be blindfolded and just let her other senses work while you make her feel good.
-       Switch: Phoenix is a classic Switch – on somedays when she had to boss new Top Gun students around, she needs to submit to you and fully let go of all the responsibility. While on other days after being screamed at by her superiors she needs to feel a sense of control.
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Additional Headcanon for Phoenix and Hangman: Both probably would never really consider having a threesome unless it is with each other and a third person. And the whole thing would evolve from the competition who can make the third person come the most.
(Probably going to work on this for an upcoming One-shot now)
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Hope you enjoyed this, comments and prompt ideas are always highly appreciated 
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lovetaroandtaemin · 21 hours
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Xdinary Heroes: Dom or Sub and Their Top Kinks
THIS LIST IS NSFW! MINORS DNI! Warnings: Dom/sub themes (titles used: daddy, sir, master, mommy), breeding kink, brat taming, exhibitionism and voyeurism, public teasing, sensory play, choking, hair pulling, begging, pegging, dacryphilia, biting, praise, degradation A/N: One more list will be posted next Monday, then Kinktober will begin next Tuesday! I cannot wait for you all to see everything I have in the works. If you'd like to read the other lists I've posted in the meantime, you can find them in my masterlist!
List is under the cut.
Gunil
Soft-ish dom
Prefers “daddy,” but also doesn’t mind being called “sir”
The breeding kink is STRONG because he just loves the idea of claiming you as his
Usually he’s really sweet in bed, but god help you if you decide to act up. He WILL pound you into the mattress and refuse to let you cum for hours on end
HUGE exhibitionist, one of his favorite ways to punish you is making you watch him get off
Jungsu
Dom-leaning switch
Likes to be called “sir” or “master” when he’s feeling more dominant, likes to be called “pretty boy” and “love” when he’s feeling more submissive
Loves to tease you in public because he knows you won’t do anything about it
I could see him enjoying sensory play occasionally
Also has a breeding kink but he only really indulges it when he’s really really horny. God help you if you get to that point
Gaon
Says he’s a dom, he’s actually a subby switch
Likes to be called “sir” when he does occasionally dom, but other than that he’ll accept any nickname you give him
Acts like a brat because he’s such a huge masochist. Likes the punishments more than the rewards he would get for behaving
Really wants to call you “mommy” but he’s embarrassed about it so he’s taking that shit to the grave
Choke him, or ask him to choke you, and he might cum on the spot
O.de
The brattiest sub
Likes to be called “slut,” “prince,” and “angel” (another member of the “calling them angel sarcastically when they misbehave” gang)
I feel like he would have a thing for hair pulling
Make him beg and he turns into a whiny, blushy mess
Peg him and he’ll love you forever
Jun Han
Sub-leaning switch
Likes to be called “sir” when he’s feeling more dominant, likes to be called “sweetheart,” “angel,” and “pretty boy” when he’s feeling more submissive
Likes making you cry, likes it more when you make him cry
Really likes being overstimulated
I feel like he would have a thing for messy blowjobs
Jooyeon
Bratty sub
Likes when you say his name, not one for nicknames
DEFINITELY likes biting and being bitten. No doubt in my mind
Exhibitionist and voyeur
Likes praise, LOVES degradation
Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you want to see the other lists I've posted, or read my fics, you can find them here! If you'd like to see the fics I'll be posting after Kinktober is done, you can read my upcoming works here! If you'd like to see what I have in store for Kinktober, you can find that masterlist here. If none of that catches your attention or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms! Have a lovely day!
Thank you again for reading my posts, seeing y'all interact with my silly little stories and lists makes my day.
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terrainofheartfelt · 11 months
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and now, a playlist:
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Mister Americana and the Heartbreak Prince
or,
FirstPrince (Taylor's Version)
shoutout to my beloved cherry @blairwaldcrf my friend in rwrb and my enabler in everything related to the two himbos above.
shoutout to this post specifically for their intrepid scholarship
listen at the unlisted youtube playlist here
Track list and annotations under the cut.
✨tracks✨
This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things They broke an $80k wedding cake. and alex is such a brat about it. and holds a grudge like none other 
Gorgeous Alex hoarding that magazine cover of Henry. Henry is literally so gorgeous the bisexual jumps out
Teardrops on my Guitar  Henry-coded the only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart I MEAN
Untouchable The. YEARNING. I want you but I cannot risk telling you so you please tell me say it first please say it first please. Ever thought about that bros being bros visit from Henry’s perspective? Hmm? I didn’t know you wear glasses
gold rush Long distance bro-ship. Just chattin and textin. Gay crush gay crush gay crush. Watching each other’s public love lives and seething. Almost jump into the fantasy but then letting it fade to gray. or as the british say, grey. 
Stay Beautiful The constant texting. Each one finds a way to be the other’s highlight of his day. But we were ever so careful dear. Alex being america’s sweetheart and Henry being totally gone for him
Foolish One Henry kiddoooooo. The prince with the heart on the outside of his chest. 
Forever Winter before their relationship is even romantic, they are a safe place for each other. Like christmas. and thanksgiving. 
You’re on Your Own, Kid NYE. Henry’s gayass breaking point, searching the party of better bodies and wanting wanting wanting.
Tied Together with a Smile The prince charming act be coming undone!
Message in a Bottle Alex’s bisexual crisis. He knows henry likes him, and it’s kinda frightening, standing here waiting, and that asshole won’t return his calls so he’s gotta trick him into a state dinner at the white house.
Treacherous A state dinner of antici………PATION. And a makeout in the drawing room. As one does.
Electric Touch  alex waiting after dinner in his white house bedroom all nervouslike
Snow on the Beach First hookup. Soft disbelief, because you wanting me tonight feels impossible. Snow in DC (a swamp) is as weird as snow on a beach imo. 
I Can See You FWB era. If you could only see all the things that happen inside my head. At galas and polo matches and wimbledon and whatnot
Wildest Dreams The henry journey. This will end and it will wreck him but right now it’s beautiful. Also this is the song for hooking up in a stable post polo
Delicate Secret relationship. Boys are bad with feelings. Oh damn never seen that color blue. I pretend you’re mine all the damn time. Waking up with each other in Paris speaking of: 
Paris No I didn’t see the news. Too busy getting dicked down by the most eligible bachelor in the Western world. What who said that.
Lavender Haze Don’t read into my melancholia. Let’s just stay in this gay suspended animation. This secret bubble. It’s safe here. 
22 They literally spend Alex’s 22nd birthday together you know he was feelin’ 22. Pretty sure the novel says that actually
I Think He Knows It’s fun and flirty and the feelings are creeping in at the edges, but not enough that they have to face them
Jump Then Fall Alex is a smitten kitten
So It Goes… LA gala. All eyes are on them but as separate entities. Magician, illusionist. Trying to play it chill but being utterly incapable. 
Starlight dancing in the club in LA. Alex getting carried away by queer joy
Dress Their night together in LA. their secret moments in a crowded they got no idea about me and you. Their hands are shaking from holding back from each other! Say his name and everything just stops! They don’t want each other like best friends! Pez only bought those custom kimonos so they could take em off! Ah ah ah ahhhh! Carve your name into Alex’s bedpost, Henry babe. 
Hey Stephen cutesy emailing. Hey henry you blew my mind in LA last week u up? I can’t help it if you look like an angel/achilles/james bond
I’m Only Me when I’m with You Sweet email exchange post LA. I’ll be damned but I miss you
…Ready for It? (BloopPop remix) Henry says In the middle of the night in my dreams you should see the things we do….Let the games begin
Glitch Wimbledon. Fucking love doing things out of spite. I’m not even sorry. Henry will go back eventually to dudes to give him nothing but for now there’s this 
Sparks Fly DNC. Henry really dropped everything to come see alex at the convention. The kinda reckless that should send him running, but he kinda knows that he won’t get far. Give him something that’ll haunt him when he’s not around, Alex. 
Everything Has Changed Telling madam president mom. Do you feel forever about him? Henry making a point to be there for him is alex’s emotional tipping point. 
State of Grace Time between dnc and lakehouse is their state of grace. No leaving, no leaking. It can’t last but its so good. Mosaic broken hearts, but brave and wild and I never saw you coming and I’ll never be the same
cowboy like me Alex texas boy. The reflective nature he turns on henry once he’s fired from the campaign. Thinking about that word forever
Wonderland Never worse but never better. In all their searching of the world they won’t find anything else that feels like what they have. yk?
Cruel Summer summer vacay at the lake house. the darkness approacheth. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you but here I am sealing my fate over and over again 
You Are in Love ‘you’re my best friend.’ and you knew what is was: Alex is so in love he could die
willow Alex at the dock like he is begging for Henry to take his hand and wreck his plans. He’s like that’s my MAN.
illicit affairs it dies a million little times. like by a lake in the moonlight. henry sees the truth when it shows and alex gets angry because you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else 
Bye Bye Baby henry fleeing texas. You took me home but you just couldn’t keep me
Midnight Rain He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain. I broke his heart ‘cause he was nice 
Hits Different when alex thinks about the sham the firm will make henry go through. I pictured you with other girls “in love” then threw up on the street
august refrain of henry. It was never mine. You weren’t mine to lose. This was over before it even began
Breathe Separated. Neither of them doing well. 
exile alex obliviousness meets henrys stubbornness. the imagery of nations and homelands
Anti-Hero henry has it’s me high I’m the problem it’s me at tea time everybody agrees disease. no cure but it can be treated 
Renegade alex working up a head of steam because he just wants to say get your shit together so I can love you 
Maroon your body comes back to me in dreams and I wake with your memory over me that’s a real fucking legacy!!!!
my tears ricochet alex has literally never had it within himself to go with grace. Ever. In his life. Bless him. Screaming at skies. Stealing lullabies. You know how it is. 
How You Get the [Boy] Narration of the storming of Kensington Palace. Alex being like I want you for worse or for better I would wait forever and ever
The Archer Henry prepared for a lot but he never prepared for Alex staying
Love Story  The dramatics the mythologizing of one’s life the I want you / Then fucking have me like “baby, just say yes” also romeo and juliet and pyramus & thisbe are the same fucking story!!!!
Stay Stay Stay Morning after when Henry comes into the room with coffee. How he could have a lifetime of fine but he’d rather have this. 
Holy Ground Dancing in the V&A
Today Was a Fairytale Lots of this music plays with the idea of fairytales and royalty and the push and pull idealism has with reality and it just fits so well. Because. Prince. &c.
Come Back…Be Here Having the big conversation and then alex having to leave and go back to dc. The long distance drama. This is falling in love in the cruelest way.
End Game choosing to do this thing for real. knowing what they’re up against. Big reputation big reputation ooh you and me would be a big conversation 
Labyrinth oops they both caught feelings. Henry thought the plane was going down how’d he turn it right around 
Cornelia Street The sacred new beginnings that became their religion aka those crazy 48 hours holed up in Kensington. Tender and fragile and amazing
mirrorball henry’s fable. His shattered pieces and the peasant boy with chin dimples who is not like the regulars the masquerade revelers. never been a natural all he does is just try try try
Paper Rings I thought you were a nuisance but whoops you're now the air I breathe. In paper rings and picture frames and dirty dreams
Timeless The phrase ‘see attached bibliography’ is the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me. All the quotes and recitations they send each other in their emails. 
cardigan The intimate email conversations. Always wanting to know more about the other. 
Lover  The ease with which they say I love you post storming of the castle.
Out of the Woods The almost reveal and the cover up dates with June & Nora to make a cover. The hiding in an alleyway in the car. When the sun came up you were looking at me.
False God Rumors aside they are both In This and that shalt not change. Still worship this love. They might just get away with it.
invisible string it all began at the olympics. All the winding paths of our public lives one single thread of gold tied me to you, &c.
Mastermind Henry saying he’s loved Alex the entire goddamned time! Newsflash asshole (affectionate)
hoax Sería una mentira, porque no sería él. The only hoax he believes in! He feels forever about it!
peace The last email sent before the leak. Give yourself away sometimes sweetheart there’s so much of you
I Know Places The something that happens when everybody finds out. The vultures circling dark clouds.
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince Alex and the leak fallout. The whispers in the hallway. American stories burning before me & high fives between bad guys. 
I Did Something Bad The email leak. There’s the harshness of the trauma, but there’s also madam president mom going “fuck it.” Don’t tell me this song didn’t pull henry through. Avoiding plans and sucking cock. Don’t knock it til you try it. Go ahead and light me up
the lakes (original version) I like this mix because it’s more ~cinematic~ to me. And something about henry not being cut out for these cynical clones and hunters with cell phones yk?
Run The phone call from air force one post leak. The eye in the storm
Sweet Nothing It’s them in the music room of Kensington. It’s alex “can’t let anyone know how much he needs” claremont-diaz admitting he’s just too soft for all of it
Slut if they’re gonna talk shit, we may as well be together in public. It might be worth it for once
You Need to Calm Down Shade never made anybody less gay, fake elizabeth ii. Why are you mad when you can be glaad, pip?
King of My Heart  Wordplay on royalty words, yk. “That’s the bravest son of a bitch I’ve ever met” yk.
Change The crowds in front of Buckingham, alex’s speech from the white house. History, huh?
London Boy We hold this track listing to be self evident
Ours The contrast of the outer life and inner life. Private relationship  under large public scrutiny. 
It’s Nice to Have a Friend It’s about the best friends to best friends AND lovers.
Call It What You Want He wears his signet ring on a chain round his neck not because he owns me because he really knows me, &c
Karma Everything surrounding finding the source of the leak and Rafael Luna double agent and the fact that Alex and Henry can both say that Karma is their Boyfriend. 
Long Live Election night in Austin.
New Year’s Day The mythical place NYE occupies in Alex’s public life and now his private one with Henry. The Balls Out Bonanza is great but now it’s about what comes after. 
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angels--trumpet · 6 months
Text
Ngl I'm a bit embarrassed to make this one but worms are worms and @funable-rainy simply has to have one conversation with me to make them wiggle so here we go 
This is mostly just a post I had to take down on Twitter cause it keeps trying to kill my account rip
Cw: 185, sfw
Gojo met Yuji when he was 17, Yuji was small, dumb, chubby and annoying but he was also so sincere
So kind, and so bright 
Everything Gojo knew that his world would sniff out and crush imminently
Like bloodhounds on a fox 
He was called to a mission around where the boy lived and barely prevented the stupid brat from eating the worst kind of poison in the world
One of sukuna fingers 
He made sure to give the brat a piece of his mind, and in return, he was given the other half of his packed-up brownie. Yes, he took it. He was hungry, and he ate all the candy he had on him beforehand, so he was running a bit low 
He just owed him that's all 
A favor for a brownie 
Yuji wanted to go to the park and play, so Gojo took him, and they played. Why did this kid had so much energy?
Yuji wanted to go get snacks, so Gojo took him to the corner store and they got snacks
Yuji wanted to sit down and eat his snacks and get told silly stories, so gojo told him the many stupid pranks he's Pulled before, the craziest missions he went on when he didn't have a good handle on his own abilities It's not like the kid would even remember what he said tomorrow anyway.
Gojo didn't stop visiting, and Yuji never forgot what he said, holding onto every word with reverence
Calling Gojo a friend
And the word held weight like it ment something, it wasn't like with Geto or Shoko this was different he loved the boy and wanted to protect him even if he had no obligation too, no reason other than 
"This boy is good and I want to keep him alive"
Gojo introduces Yuji to his friends one day, getting permission first from his grandfather to take him on a little field trip. He shows him around campus, his dorm room, he takes him around the city, and Geto even smiles that real smile he has when he truly is happy.
It felt so nice.
Then, the failed mission happened. 
He couldn't face Yuji he couldn't face Geto, trained on his own for days, perfecting what he unlocked so nothing could get that close again. He sees something is wrong with his best friend but can't bring his voice out to really dive into what's wrong.
So he leaves it be, thinking the other teen would get over it eventually. He surely has before about other things.
Yuji finds him, had rode all the way out from his home to Gojo campus all by himself. Gojo is grumpy about it, complains, and plays it over dramatic, so the boy giggles a bit dispute, saying sorry and actually meaning it.
But Gojo was also thankful. He's so glad to see Yuji again, even if he avoided him for months now. Geto Despite looking like he has not eaten or slept in days reminds him to call Yuji grandfather to make sure he knows where Yuji is since it was already too late to go and return him. Yuji spends and entire night and evening with Gojo, who just keeps the boy in his lap and lets him watch as many movies as he wants till he passes out.
Joyful screaming and flailing, talking put loud for Gojo to humm a response too.
Geto joins them, and for the first time in days he seems to fall asleep peacefully with the help of Yuji just being as he is. Gojo ends up being a bit more possessive of Yuji afterwords, Geto even seems to enjoy the boy's company more now than ever the only other person Gojo trusts to keep a good safe hold of him when Gojo needs to do things.
In a way Yuji seemed to save them, and all Gojo can give in return is hold a love he horbors in him that was completely inappropriate and not something he wanted to feel, but he cannot stop now.
He denies it and fights against it, never shows it past the regular care and love he usually gives Yuji.
He didn't want to ruin that.
Extra bits
Gojo totally freaks out over the fact that he fell in love with Yuji, who he is essentially co-parenting with Yujis grandpa how much he takes Yuji with him to do things with Geto. 
Geto still has this distance for normal people, but it's not too bad because he has yuji reminding him of the good Tho he is secretly trying to get Yuji to use CE so he can become like them but he suspects heavenly pacts because of Yuji unnatural strength.
When Yuji grows older he develops the biggest crush on Gojo, and everyone uses it as like blackmail the one thing that makes the strongest freez up and blush, well less like blackmail and more like a joke that they can finally laugh at this cocky guy. Yuji is Gojos' weakness, so as his best friend Geto makes sure to always keep Yuji protected with one of his curses, he won't admit it's cause he loves Yuji too and wants him to live a long normal life.
Yuji essentially has two scary dogs.
This ended up being a lot more angsty than funny like it originally came out to be when I was chatting in the goyuu server
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Note
based on your asks responses & characterization of yuuta this is what i’ve gathered — yuuta is like that one high school senior who looked at the new coming freshman’s & just adopted them on the spot. there’s no out. now his friends sees the kid & adopted them too. it’s a family now. a very young, close in age family. (i was yuuta in this situation 😔 i was use to be megumi in this situation but i carried the tradition out. as i should. high school & middle school was wild.)
YUUJI THOUGH. we will probably never see him in your sea glass garden au but your asks is killing me. like his one sided beef with yuuta? he’s just like me fr. i too would fight over megumi if it comes down to it.
i just know yuuji thought that yuuta & megumi was a thing at first cause of the whole “his boy thing”. i know he screamed into a pillow about it. i know he went to gojo to ask for permission to court megumi & gojo was flabbergasted at such a medieval act so he had yuuji do the dumbest shit to get his blessing (ha).
i just know nanami is sighing at the idea of his son yuuji being a jealous little brat because of his other son yuuta. i just know yuuta was so confused until he witnessed yuuji & megumi awkward ass flirting. i know he acts like a little shit to get on yuuji (& sukuna) nerves.
you know what. this is my jujutsu kaisen. this is my sorcery fight. gege who? i only know you. PLS TAKE THE PEN FROM GEGE.
Yuuta is absolutely that senior who adopted that new student and made a little family. That is His Kohai now okay megumi is their collectively raised flour sack baby and they will kill for him.
Yuuji came back to life finally met the second years had just leveled up with his cursed energy and gained a new dad got his old friends back he was so so ready to go live his best life and then his new self appointed brother opened his mouth and started rhapsodizing about some impossibly beautiful and perfect man named okkotsu yuuta and yuuji is absolutely whacked in the face a la rubber squeaky hammer that there’s some gorgeous son of a bitch out there already living his best life.
His death sentence was overturned. He’s so powerful that he can save everyone if he wants. He is the legally adopted child of Nanami Kento. The curse attached to him 1) actually liked him and 2) moved the fuck on which some people (Sukuna) could take a few notes on.
Fushiguro Megumi is his boy.
This could not have devastated him more thoroughly. Even his newly acquired self appointed brother thinks okkotsu yuuta is the perfect man, which he manages to express at length in between warnings from the second years that Yuuta’s going to fly back from Africa purely for the sake of kicking his fucking ass for touching His Boy, which yuuji simply cannot handle.
Yuuji lowkey had a new lease on life and thought “hey! Fushiguro tried to kill someone with an elephant for me! Maybe I have a shot and he’ll let me hold his hand!” and then there’s god’s perfect man off in Africa who’s enticing megumi away from movie marathons with his fucking FaceTime calls right when yuujis almost hyped himself up enough to try the yawning arm stretch thing.
He spends at least three weeks trying to figure out if Megumi’s His Boy because they’re in a long distance relationship and it only ends because maki starts finding it more annoying than funny and establishes that it is not in fact a romantic arrangement. She thinks. (Okay it’s still kind of funny.)
Yuuji resorted to a terrible wikihow on how to get someone to date you and it insisted “get their parents approval” was his in and gojo could NOT have been more of an asshole about it. Nanami had to intervene to get it to stop. He is very tired and very confused. Why are you so upset about okkotsu he’s a lovely young man why is this making you more upset
Of course if yuuji ever found out that megumi became Yuuta’s boy after Yuuta personally restarted his heart he’d instantly understand why everyone acts like Yuuta’s the best thing since sliced bread. He is that amazing.
Yuuta and Megumi are completely oblivious to all of this.
Gege pls call me I just want to help gege pls
#sea glass gardens#just remember YOU can forcibly displace gege and turn the creative property over to me#I will be making several. SEVERAL. changes.#yuuji absolutely goes back into his room and screams into his pillow over Yuuta#he was going to try to hold Megumi’s hand and Megumi left to go talk to Yuuta just because he was ‘calling all the way from Africa’ and ‘the#movie ended five minutes ago why were you just sitting there looking like you were really stressed are you okay itadori’#nobara is exhausted just watching this#she’s the most homophobic lesbian alive why do lgbtq things happen to people who don’t deserve it#god she just wants a girlfriend with a sword and these fucking assholes are the ones who get their high school romance they don’t even#APPRECIATE the gay things happening to them#ignoring all canon since we’re never getting there in sea glass gardens#when Yuuta’s coming back from Africa Megumi’s very simply stating that Yuuta’s an important person in his life and he’s glad yuuji wjll#meet him soon which might as well be a DECLARATION OF UNDYING LOVE yuuji has a total crisis#yuuta gets off the plane and fucking hugs megumi yuuji had to get boyfriend privileges to do that who is this son of a bitch#gojo watching this: do you think I can get yuuji to wash my car again if I tell him I’ll distract Yuuta so he can take Megumi on a date#Nanami: why on earth would okkotsu need to be distracted for that to happen#gojo: that’s the beauty of it it is in no way necessary but yuuji doesn’t seem to know that
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