#stop denying my boy's growth

[januaryembrs]

LET IT ONCE BE ME | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [7]

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?)

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

‘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

@rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover r @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @green_vita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @splatteredpurplepaint @pieceuvmind @jiuseoks

[persephonesdreams21]

NSFW Alphabet with Kyle

A/N: So like, I’ve had this in my drafts forever and I finally got around to tidying it up(sort of) and finishing it. In a perfect world where I had free time, I’d love to do headcannons for all of Timmy’s characters. In reality I’ll probably only get a few more in,

Warnings: NSFW. Smut- def talks of dom/sub undertones and just generally horny themes. I mean, the title is very self explanatory. Kyle x AFAB! Reader

After Care(what they're like after sex):

The first time you have sex with Kyle, aftercare isn’t a practice he’s ever partook in. He comes and makes you come and then is ready to pop a cigarette in his mouth and call it a night.

This rubs you all the way wrong.

Has you wobbling out of bed and pulling on your clothes in a furious, flustered silence.

“What are you doing- hey. Y/N. What the hell?” He watches you, big green eyes accusatory as you prepare to leave. Your steps shaky and uncoordinated. He hadn’t exactly gone easy on you. “Sit down, you can barely walk”

“Like you care” you scoff. “it’s fine, I’m just gonna go”

He sighs, not one for dramatics that aren’t his own. “You’re gonna hurt yourself”

“I’m not some random piece of ass that you can screw and discard, Kyle. Fuck you very much for thinking so” your words are venomous and sharp, but your bottom lip is wobbling. Your eyes are stormy and still slightly unfocused and woah.

Holy shit. He’s a douchebag but he’s not an idiot. He spends way too much time online and he’s able to put together what’s going on pretty damn quick.

You’re dropping.

He can’t let you leave like this. Hell, you shouldn’t be up from bed much less driving in this state..

Kyle doesn’t do aftercare, we’ll at least he hadn’t before.

It’s all kind of clunky, him bullying your purse from your weak hands and batting away any resistance. Him sitting you on the edge of his bed and leaving, just long enough, to return with a glass of water and a stray granola bar. He sits close by, hovering. His hand a solid, but silent comfort on your thigh.

You don’t cry, won’t in front of him, but god do you want to.

You end up stripped back down to your panties and under his plaid comforter once he deems you hydrated enough.

He still smokes his after-sex cig, but this time he has you tucked into his side. Your cheek smushed to his chest as he puffs on nicotine. The fingers of his free hand dancing along the skin of your back.

He’d deny it, but he’s a sucker for aftercare now.

Body Part)their fave body part of theirs, and of their partners

Kyle likes his height. He enjoys towering over crowds, being the tallest person in the room. It makes him feel strong(and like when he was little he was a shrimp- he had a late growth spurt in 9th grade)

Kyle likes your hands. They’re all teeny and delicate and he tends to play with your fingers absentmindedly. He also likes the pudge on your sides. They’re called love handles for a reason. Any time he reaches for them you screech and shy away but like. That doesn’t stop him ever.

Cum(anything to do with it)

He’s the first man to ever make you squirt and yeah, that goes to his head a little bit. He’ll finger fuck you until youre sobbing and clawing at his arms, whimpering at the mess that he seems to love.

Dirty Secret(self explanatory)

He’s a panty thief. Will literally steal your panties and keep them(and sniff them, often). You complain about it, because he’s such a weirdo and because cute underwear can get expensive! He doesn’t care.

Experience(how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

For how much sex he’s had he lowkey wasn’t great at it when you guys started fooling around. Or maybe it’s that he never cared- to get good at getting his partner off. Kyle is a selfish lover. You def teach him all the tricks in your book on how to make you feel good. And once that boy knows? He KNOWS. He’s able to flip you over and make you come in two minutes flat.

Favorite Position(this goes without saying)

Kyle loves doggy. He wants you bent over, unable to do anything but take him. Also partial to reverse cowgirl.

Goofy(are they more serious in the moment? Are they goofy?)

He is soooo serious it’s almost laughable. He gets offended when you laugh at the smoldering look on his face while he fucks you. It makes you nervous- you can’t help but giggle.

Hair(how well groomed they are)

Very well groomed. Neatly trimmed. He can’t pretend he doesn’t care about societal norms all he wants, Kyle is a total preener and loves taking care of his appearance. I mean, look at his hair. You just know it takes him a ridiculous amount of time to do in the morning.

Intimacy(how they are during the moment? The romantic aspect)

At first- intimacy isnt even in Kyles vocabulary. He doesnt know how, he doesnt understand it. It makes him feel awkward as hell. Slowly but surely as your relationship developes he starts to crave it. He wants you to stare into his eyes while you ride him, your fingers interlocked. Its tantric. Addicting.

Jack Off(masturbation headcanon)

Porn addict. All conspiracy obsessed, internet surfing boys are. He loves reading Manga and watching anime porn. You’ll indulge him and watch it with him sometimes.

“Hey, I have a toy that looks just like that!” You make the offhanded comment as the two of you watch an animated girl with big tits in a school uniform getting railed by a tentacle monster.

You’re immersed in the video. The raunchy sounds of high pitched squealing and skin slapping fill the quiet room. The blinds are drawn and the two of you lie cuddled together in his bed.

Kyle stares at you. His brain short circuiting.

You’d said it so casually. You have a toy- that looks just like the giant tentacle on his computer screen.

“You’re lying” he deadpans and it makes you giggle.

“Maybe one day I’ll show you” you shrug and like. What the fuck. Where did you even come from?

When you send him a short video of a pink glass tentacle dildo sliding in and stretching your wet hole…well let’s say that he doesn’t have to turn to his anime porn for spank bank material anymore.

Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Kyle loves overstimulation and edging. Both him doing it to you and you doing it to him. Like full on tears, shaking, emotional breakdowns, orgasms that are so good they hurt. Ugh. It’s his favorite.

Location(favorite places to do the do?)

Anywhere. Although, he def has a thing for sliding inside of you after a show. The adrenaline of playing live still coursing through his veins as he crowds you into the handicapped stall of some grimy venue bathroom and fucks you raw, his jeans around his ankles.

Motivation(what turns them on? Get’s them going?)

He loves it when you’re jealous. He's not ignorant to the way that women(and men tbh) look at him. React to him. It's always been this way, really it doesn't phase him anymore.

But you? You hate that shit.

You hate the way you can be holding his hand, and still girls will come up to him. Wink at him from across the room, waitresses leaving their phone numbers on napkins. Its maddening,

Kyle reassures you with words, with kisses and promises. He’s yours. He isn't interested in wasting energy on any of them. You're his only girl.

Still, the way you stake your claim makes him feral. When you suck bruises into his throat or wrap your arms around his waist. Don't even get him started on the time that you threw a drink in that girls face at that one party(she’d told Kyle he had like, the best hair, and reached for his dark curls. Her hand never even made it close) its just so hot. Knowing that you want him that much,

No(something they wouldn't do? Turns off’s)

So he likes it when you’re jealous, right? But you making him jealous? Is completely off the table. He will, and has, freaked out about it. He could never do threesomes or any kind of group play, he’d lose his shit.

Oral(preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc?

Kyle loves getting head. “Selfish lover alert”. It’s a chore you’re happy to perform, you love suckling at his big cock. Playing with his pink tip-

But like. He also enjoys going down on you. When the two of you first started sleeping together, you were really self conscious about it. Something about your shitty ex not liking the mess. Which like, he’ll never understand.

Your pussy is so gorgeous. All puffy and pretty for him, swollen and sopping wet. Hes such a tease with his quick tongue and little kisses. It’s not until you’re writhing and begging and forcing his dark haired head deeper that he really goes to town.

Pace(are they fast and rough, slow and sensual?)

The mans good with his hips, it's the musician in him. He has rhythm. But he is still just a young man, and he does end up getting sloppy and messy towards the end. Chasing his high like a mad man

Quickie(their opinions on quickies, how often?)

Loves a good quickie- but you’re not a huge fan. He’s very good at convincing you though, at dragging you into dark corners and palming at your body through your clothes.

Risk(are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Yup, he loves that shit. He's such an exhibitionist You warn him that it is in fact, illegal. That public indecency can end in heavy fines, “The sex offenders list, Ky! I’m serious!”

But like, you always end up caving. Letting him fuck your brains out in his car. Spreading your legs when he reaches under the restaurant table, his fingers grazing your soft inner thigh, playing with your clit through your panties. If you wore a skirt for easy access…well thats your own business.

Stamina(how many rounds can they go? How long can they last?)

He’s a lazy little thing, I just know it. You get a couple rounds out of him and then he’s laying back and demanding you ride him, your turn to do the work.

“You’re my pillow princess, huh, baby?” you purr as you climb ontop of him, rubbing your wet slit along his flagging erection. You know he’ll get back to full hardness soon enough.

For now, he lies back, hands behind his head. Lounging, barley awake, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. You give his plump lips a wet smack and they twitch up in amusement.

“Princess? Whatever” He sasses, feigning offense. Even as he lets you do all the work, reaching between your own legs to fist at his cock, leading the head to your waiting hole.

“Prince then” you smile as you sink down and he groans, the veins in his neck straining as he throws his head back into the soft down pillows. He’s more than happy to let you do all the work.

Toys(do they own toys? Will they use them?)

He’s bleh about them. I think he’s inquisitive by nature, and likes to think of himself as explorative but like- he doesn't want anything but his cock filling you and making you feel good. He does enjoy watching you use them on yourself,

Unfair(how much they like to tease)

He is the absolute WORST tease. He loves riling you up. It makes him so hot, the way he can get you so desperate for him.

Volume(how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)

Kyle’s a quiet lover, he grits his teeth and lets out long sighs You love getting him to crack, making him moan and writhe and gasp.

X-Ray(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’d hate to say this because he already has a massive ego, but he has a pretty big dick too. Maybe right above garage. 7 inches. Long, but heavy.

Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

When he wants it- he NEEDS it. Like. He’s very dramatic and takes high offense to you withholding yourself from him. Its as annoying as it is flattering.

Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep after)

He’s knocked the FUCK out. Quickly. This man has fallen asleep with his softening cock still inside of you. He’s your big baby and once he’s drunk on your kisses hes a goner.

“Your pussy’s better than indica, baby” he tells you once, only half joking and you snort and hit him square in the face with the nearest pillow.

[suugarbabe]

Peaceful Sleep

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x y/n

Warnings: drinking, fluff

The start of the year party was still in full swing when you and your group of friends tucked away into the back corner to play your usual game of truth or drink. Theo, Draco and Blaise sat across the big couch, in that order. Mattheo took the chair to their right while Pansy and Enzo sat in the loveseat on the left. You sat on a cushion on the floor, elbows resting on Draco’s knees. You had designated yourself as the shot pourer as you were (1) the most sober, though that wasn’t saying much and (2) Mattheo had a heavy hand and you didn’t trust him not to put an extension charm on the shot glass.

As you sat down, Pansy gave you the eyes, wiggling her eyebrows seeing you snug between Draco’s legs. You sneakily gave her the finger as you rolled your eyes, essentially telling her to shut her drunk mouth. Pansy had stayed at yours for two weeks over the summer holiday and you had essentially blabbed about your growing crush on Draco since year three. As soon as he stopped slicking his hair back it was like he was a whole different person, a hotter person. Each summer was just so good to him. He looked a little stressed this year, but you chalked it up to you all having to take your N.E.W.T.S. at the end of the second term.

“Okay, I’ll start us off,” Mattheo began “Truth or dare Enzo!” Enzo rolled his eyes, “truth, I s’pose”. Mattheo’s grin turned delivish, “Okay, how many wet dreams did you have about Pansy this summer!” Enzo’s cheeks immediately turned red. Pansy rolled her eyes, “Merlin, Mattheo, really this is how we’re playing tonight?” Mattheo smirked, shrugging his shoulders, “Isn’t this how I always play? Enzo, boyo, answer the question now.” Enzo shook his head, declining to answer. So you poured him a shot and he took it happily.

Enzo turned to Theo, “Truth or Dare.” Theo sat up straighter, though his eyes were half lidded, indicating he was far more drunk that he was trying to appear, “Dare, give me your best shot.” Enzo sat, thinking for a moment before Pansy leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Enzo’s grin grew as he nodded his head. “Okay, Theo, I dare you to go ask Looney Lovegood to hogsmead this weekend.” Theo looked over to the dance floor where Luna Lovegood was dancing with large glasses on, quite oddly, with a group of friends.

The group watched as he walked over to her, talking for a few minutes before walking back to the couches, a confused look on his face. “Well, what’d she say?” You asked as the group leaned in closer. Theo shook his head, “She said my head was full of Wrackspurts and that I should see Madam Pomfry tomorrow.” You all burst out laughing. You thought Luna was nice and she meant well, but you couldn’t deny how odd she truly was.

The game continued as such, dares being thrown out, truths being avoided. It seemed like any time it was Draco’s turn he would always choose the shot versus a truth or even a dare, which he normally loves. When he began leaning forward, resting his chin on the top of your head, you knew it was time to get him to bed. You softly pushed him off you before standing up and extending your hand to him, “C’mon Drunko Malfoy, you’re going to bed.��� He made no arguments, standing up and draping an arm over your shoulder for you to lead him.

Pansy shot you a look but you did your best to ignore her. You heard the others continue with the game as you lead Draco up the stairs and down the hall to his and the boys room. Draco had a growth spurt between fourth and fifth year, making your height difference even more dramatic than it was, and making this walk more difficult than it should have been. You flicked your wand to unlock and open his door before flopping the large boy down on his bed.

You pulled off his shoes as he attempted to pull off his shirt. Your cheeks tinted a slight pink at the sight of his bare chest, his skin like porcelain in the moonlight from the window. You pulled back the top half of his duvet and attempted to make him lay down. “No,” he mumbled shaking his head. “C’mon, Dray, you need to go to sleep. You’re practically sleeping sitting up right now.” He shook his head again, eyes closed as he mumbled, “Can’t sleep with pants on. Belt too hard, help me y/n/n.” He reached out, grabbing your wrists and bringing them to his waist.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly undid his belt for him before he pushed his trousers down, leaving him in silk black boxers. Your face was on fire and you were thankful that Draco’s vision was probably half blurry at this point. He finally tucked his legs under the duvet and you covered him up. “Sleep good, Draco,” you whispered, kissing his temple. You knew you shouldn’t have but you couldn’t help it, besides he wouldn’t remember tomorrow right?

As you turned to leave, Draco’s hand shot out from under the blanket, grabbing your wrist, “Don’t go.” He said it so softly, almost like a child begging. “Lay with me, please, y/n/n.” Your heart wouldn’t let you deny him, so you nodded, “Okay, Draco.” You grabbed a t-shirt from his trunk, slipping your party dress and heals off and throwing his shirt over your bra and panties. It hung on your thighs lower than your dress did that night.

You climbed into bed next to him, laying on your back, hands behind your head. You looked over at Draco. His eyes were closed so you assumed he was sleeping until he spoke up. “I’ve been having nightmares all summer, I don’t wanna do what they want me to do.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, “What do they want you to do? Who’s they?” His eyes opened, they were still glossed over from being drunk, but tears were brimming the edges. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, Dray, I’m sorry. C’mere,” you pulled his face into your chest as he sniffled slightly. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer, hooking your leg over his hip like he was trying to melt into you.

You lightly scratched his back until his breathing evened out. You listened for a few moments, making sure he was fully asleep. After about ten minutes you attempted to roll him off you so you could go to your own room, not knowing how Draco would feel waking up sober, hungover and you in his bed. However when you tried to pull his arm off you Draco’s grip only got tighter. You sighed, not totally hating your predicament.

You closed your eyes, feeling exhausted, eventually falling asleep yourself. You awoke to what felt like your sides being tickled, not purposely but like someone was lightly dragging their fingers up and down your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, you looked down to see Draco awake, his hand tracing the lines of your side, disappearing beneath his shirt and back absentmindedly. “Good morning,” you spoke softly.

Draco jumped slightly at your voice, sitting up in his bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, y/n, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sat up again his head board, “S’okay, Draco. How did you sleep? Any nightmares last night?” His face dropped, “I told you about those?” You nodded sleepily, “You didn’t tell me what about, and I didn’t push, don’t worry.” He nodded his head, shoulders relaxing a bit before admitting, “That was honestly the best I’ve slept in months.” You smiled widely, “Well I’m glad I could help.” Your heart was beaming, you couldn’t wait to tell Pansy. Draco ran his hand through his hair, “You might have to sleep over every night now, yannow, if you’re okay with that. We do have very important exams at the end of the year and I need to make sure I’m well rested.” You laughed nervously, though you hope it didn’t show, “I think we can definitely make arrangements.”

[jaennwrites]

Little things | Captain John Price x f!reader

feels like I'm the only person obsessed with this man, so I'm doing a service to all the Captain Price lovers fr.

summary: an eventful morning with Price :) cw: established relationship, smut, size kink (kinda), unprotected sex, praise, slight violence, aftercare, L-bombs (i think that's all of them or at least the major ones) word count: 2,615

ofc reblogs and comments much appreciated :)

You woke up to the sun gently warming your face although causing major obstruction to your vision. Lazily using your arm to shield your eyes from the sun but it only helped so much so you opted to just turn away, only to be reminded of the man you were sharing a bed with.

John Price…your captain.

You couldn’t specifically remember the first time you both slept together but the pattern eagerly ensued almost every time you both got the chance. 

It was indeed a privilege to be able to see the captain so relaxed, you seemed to always wake up before him so you would always have the chance to examine his face and it was as if you always found something new. 

Today was the prominent stubble growth, typically Price had always made an effort to shave his uniquely styled beard that you had a crazy infatuation with, but he has been really busy recently. Last night was the first time in 3 weeks that you guys had the chance to sleep together, you will admit that he made sure you knew that he was sorry.

You halted all movements as John stirred in his sleep but he soon calmed down and was quietly sleeping again. You noticed he always slept on his back as well, maybe that's why his face was so perfect.

You contemplated the risky move you were going to take but took it not caring if John awoke. You carefully pulled the blanket off of him, stopping a few times so as to not wake him. Soon enough his entire bare torso was visible allowing you to view one of your favorite things about John.

His scars.

Your favorite being a medium slash on his right arm that he got on a mission with you. You two had been running away after being overwhelmed by a cartel you can’t bother to remember the name of and he had found a fence that led to an abandoned part of the town. You urged him to go first but he firmly denied, he pulled the fence open and pushed you through first, but that’s not how he got the scar.

There were multiple enemies following behind you two and you hadn’t thought that they would be able to catch up in time but they did, but instead of Price allowing you to help him fight, he zip tied the fence closed knowing you had lost your knife in an earlier fight. 

He pushed you away and demanded you run towards an abandoned house, promising that he would meet you there. You ran hesitantly at his request and of course he met back up with you, rewarding you with a kiss on the top of your head but also with the scar that you’ve grown to love. 

“You’re a creep” A deep accented voice spoke ripping you from your silent trip down memory lane 

“No” You poorly defended resting your head on his chest as you looked up at him 

“Oh?” He hummed looking down at you 

“Oh” You repeated in an answering tone 

“I could’ve sworn I fell asleep with the blanket over my chest” He teased 

“Bad memory” You smiled 

The way John looked at you was intoxicating but this morning the look was different, it seemed somewhat sad in your opinion.

“I don’t like that look” You joked wrapping your legs with his so you could be closer 

“What look?” He questioned closing his eyes 

“Like a high school boy about to break up with his girlfriend before they start college” You joked 

“Secondary school” John teased 

You rolled your eyes playfully before sighing knowing that Price would never tell what was so clearly bothering him, you were just hoping it wasn’t you. You went to get up from his bed but his arms stayed tightly wrapped around you.

“Am I not allowed to leave?” You teased 

“Last night was the first time in weeks that you slept in my bed…” “You’re not getting away so quickly” He spoke with his eyes still closed 

You let out another sigh before turning your attention to the resting man, hell if he wasn’t going to let you go, you might as well keep “creeping”.

You stared at his closed eyes trying to remember the vibrant blue that continued to surpass your memories every time he opened his eyes. If you were an idiot you would admit that you were practically in love with the man, oftentimes you found yourself wishing he’d randomly come up to you and say that he loved you too. 

“What?” John questioned sweetly as one of his eyes peeled open to meet yours

“I’m not even doing anything” You defended with a small laugh 

You playfully huffed making another attempt to escape Price’s arms but once again his hold remained tight. He pulled you on top of him before placing a soft kiss on your lips giving you a smile after.

“Can you stop being so eager to get away from me?”  “Breaking my heart” He joked 

“Let me get on you then” You teased sitting up

“That sounds nice” John spoke as a smirk creeped onto his face 

His hands trailed from your hips slowly, simultaneously pulling off his oversized shirt you wore. You breathed in deeply at the feeling over cold air on your now bare torso.

John was a major “boob” man, the infatuation he had with your breast could entertain you for centuries. You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face as you watched his large hands go to your chest like magnets. 

You let out a sigh of contempt as you relaxed into the feeling of his rough hands massaging your chest. He used a hand to guide you down before happily taking turns sucking your nipples and leaving hickies on the soft skin of your breast. 

John always opted for hickies on your chest or just about anywhere that wasn’t visible, he wanted you to remember him but professionalism still needed to be maintained, he was still your captain.

“You’re obsessed” You teased prying his mouth off of your chest 

“You have perfect tis, what can I say” He defended moving his kisses to your mouth once again 

Your hands cupped his face with a slight smile forming as you felt all his facial hair. Your hips slowly grinded on his; filled with excitement for what was inevitably about to come.

“Fucking hell (british ppl talk tee hee)” John groaned placing his large hands on your rocking hips

“Captain” You teased sitting up knowing John went crazy for your little “performances” 

You smiled at your success to get the Brit so riled up as he wrapped an arm around your waist before flipping you over so that he was now hovering over you.

“I hate when you tease me” He defended 

“Liar” You hummed 

Price often had a funny habit of dropping most of his weight on top of you, whether you were just joking with each other in bed or he was ramming into you, he loved doing it and to be honest you didn’t really mind.

“Fuck you” You joked hoarsely as he dropped his body weight onto you 

He smiled propping himself up, freeing you of his weight, but he just stared down at you, once again with that somber look you noted before.

“What is it?” You asked searching his eyes as if to find an answer 

“I love you” John spoke 

He loves you.

“What?” You asked in disbelief but only for the best reasons

Captain John Price…loved you, you knew he cared about more than he’d ever admit, but this reserved man who always pushed you forward first, always questioned your comfortability, praised you ability…of course he loved you.

“I don’t want to scare you off” “I love you, and I want you to know that I care for you, all that sappy stuff” He joked placing a gentle kiss on your lips 

“I love you too John” You smiled

Price smiled down at you before kissing you again, you felt his hand descend under the blanket you two laid under, he pushed your legs open before fitting himself into the space he had made. A soft moan escaped your mouth as you felt his hard bulge prod at your exposed wet slit.

“Tell me” “Tell me you want it” He teased covering your neck with wet kisses 

“I want you” “Please” You begged shamelessly 

Price placed a kiss on your lips before freeing his leaking erection from his boxers. He looked at you amusingly as his large tip prodded your entrance. 

He was big all around, in every aspect of the word, whether it was his height, his general build, or wickedly enough, his dick. 

“Ready?” He asked covering his tip in your wetness

You nodded eagerly which made him laugh a bit but soon enough your eyes were fluttering closed as Price pressed into you with a deep groan. You placed one hand on the side of his face as you kissed him to remedy the fiery sensation of him stretching you out. 

“I love you” You moaned into his mouth 

Price smiled down at you taking in the sight of you, the marks on your tits, the way they bounced which each of his thrusts, the way your free hand gripped the bed sheets, everything about you was arousing, even when he wasn’t pounding into you.

The burning hunger that overtook his body when he saw you simply holster your gun, when you put on a mask, when you waked, hell even when you spoke to him. Everything about you always made him want to tear your clothes off and sink his dick into you.

Your legs involuntarily closed as John sat up making his thrust harder and faster, this was a common occurrence and every time your body began to tap out, he took it as a challenge to push you over the edge of stimulation.

“Open them”  “Or I’ll make it worse” He teased stopping his motion

“Just…” You began but just like every other time you didn’t know what to say, you didn’t want a break, you didn’t want him to stop…you just didn’t know 

“You know the safeword” John spoke placing his hands on your knees that were still shut 

When you and Price first hooked up, you saw the above average size of him which resulted in the agreement of a safeword and you were sure of the decision after having sex with him. You both decided on just saying his call sign ‘Bravo Six”, there was already a serious connotation attached to the words so it made sense to use it for a serious situation.

You obliged and opened your legs with instant regret as you saw the familiar smirk of a man who was about to drop half his weight on you.

“Stop” You warned attempting to be serious but the smile creeping up on your face assured Price that you were not.

His pace began again and you paid no attention to the shenanigans that Price planned on pulling, because you loved when he fucked you like this. When his face was so close to yours, his forehead resting on yours, being able to feel the vibrations of his groans on your face.

“Fuck” You moaned as Price’s heavy body pressed down onto you 

“I love you” “You’re mine” “I’ll fucking kill armies for you” He groaned before placing a rough kiss on your parted lips 

John lifted up his body allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as your body scoured for more of him which he was glad to give you. 

You could feel the pit in your stomach building, it weirdly felt like a good stomach ache almost, you were close to cumming and John knew it. The way your breath got ragged as if your body was starting to panic, the way your legs were locking around Price’s torso, but his favorite thing was the eyes you gave him. The way they got low, the way you could barely keep them open, the faint dampness of your lashes from when your eyes watered when he first put his dick in you. 

“You wanna cum?” He teased 

“Yes” You moaned shamelessly

Price slowed his pace but his slow place was just as potent as his fast one, his thrust became deep and taunting forcing loud moans out of you everytime he sunk himself back into you. 

“Oh my god” You moaned loudly as your orgasm overtook you 

“That’s my girl” He praised clearly amused by your unfolding

It was a domino effect when you came and one thing John made sure was that you came before him because if you didn’t then he couldn’t. He loved the way you began to tremble under the pleasure, the sensitivity of each part of you, that’s what he looked forward to with each of your “encounters”. 

Your body shivered as Price peppered kisses on your neck and collarbones and picked up his pace once again, other than your hand that was gripping his, your body was practically just spasms now as his tip kissed your cervix with each hard, fast, deep thrust. 

“Is my beautiful girl, all cock drunk” He teased 

John began to focus on achieving his orgasm seeing that if he didn’t stop now you wouldn’t be able to get up for the day. He let go of your hand to your dismay, he used his now free hand to prop up your hips as he got rougher than you ever could imagine. 

“Please” You moaned loudly not even sure of what you were begging for 

“I love you so much” He groaned loudly pressing so deep into you that his pelvis smacked your clit

Price watched amusingly as some of his cum seeped out the sides of the “seal” you both created. He finally pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to run you a bath. John took full responsibility for his rough demeanor during sex and so he always made sure to make up for it after. 

You groaned at the soreness you felt as you sat yourself up; you loved sex with John but my god did it take a toll on your body after. 

“Stop trying to be independent” He playfully scolded before picking you up bridal style

He placed you in the tub before getting in behind you; he placed small kisses on your now wet shoulder. You laid your head back onto Price’s chest allowing him to wrap his arms around you peppering kisses on the top of your head.

“Why do you always kiss the top of my head?” You asked examining his hands 

“Cause I like to” He defended with a smile you could hear in his voice 

“Seriously” You spoke playfully slapping his knee

“I like the smell of your hair”  “And I love you” “That’s how I show it” He shrugged 

You craned your head back smiling at your upside down view of the handsome British man, you reflected on all the times even before your first hookup that Price had his face buried in the top of your head.

He always fixed any headgear you had on, always taking something out of your hair, and  patting down your flyaways. You sat yourself up turning your body to face him because it finally hit you. 

Captain John Price had been in love with you long before you two even had sex.

“I love you” You smiled

[creatingblackcharacters]

One of my favorite new little guys is Arin from Ninjago Dragons Rising!! The show is a sequel series to the previous Ninjago shows, where an event merges all the realms into one and many people end up missing or separated from loved ones. Arin was a little boy when the Merge happened and has no idea if his parents are safe or still around and his biggest motivator is to try and find them.

He loves the ninja and with them initially missing after the Merge he was inspired by them to be heroic and kind like them. He learned Spinjitzu (the main form of martial arts the ninja use lol) all by himself, which the ninja were all impressed by when they re-emerge because it’s a hard skill to learn.

He’s so kind and silly!! Arin always tries to see the best in people :) but he will try to kick ass if he has to. His favorite thing to do is bake pies, it’s so cute. He specifically got his hair cut as the Zane (after one of the original ninja).

Arin’s season 2 arc involves him feeling frustrated over his stagnant growth as a ninja since he has no powers, his Spinjitzu isn’t getting any better even with guidance, and he’s no closer to finding his parents and feels he’s letting them down by not getting better quickly 😢 which is just like nooo it’s okay you’ll get there it takes time 😢

I will say a lot of the (straight, white) male demographic who watch Ninjago suck. They’re so homophobic (one of the original ninjas seems to be getting a male love interest in DR) and racist. They deny that Arin is Black, when his design seems to indicate he is AND he has a Black VA (Christian Heywood).

Anyways, I really love Arin he’s just so adorable and sweet and fun :) he’s a representation of Ninjago fans with his love of the ninja and I can’t wait to see where his character goes when part 2 of season 2 is released!! Wait omg also his little ninja suit has horns!!! It’s the best!!

Spinjutzu

Fandom is always gone fandom, unfortunately. I do think they could have had skin colored blocks to alleviate this issue, but yeah the coding would be kind of obvious between his hair and his voice. His hair is definitely afro textured (if the Lego blocks can do it, you all can do it too!) That's so cute though!

Hot Chocolate: I LOVED Ninjago when it first came out! It had ninjas, that was all I needed honestly. I fell off because I stopped watching TV as much but I'm happy to hear about our little Black boy Arin! He's my son now. So anyone who's got something to say can meet me outside, and that's on chawls.

[w0rmdahl]

are you listening? — SKNS

gif ©: w0rmdahl, madsofrps-blog

show: skins s1 (2007-2008)

synopsis: joey may have fallen first, but love fell on anwar.

word count: 4.1k

featuring: anwar kharral, (oc) joey park, maxxie oliver, mention of jal fazer, mention of tony stonem

warnings: (it's skins yk) strong language, sex, early 2000s

a/n: so much to say about this piece omg. check the replies for everything i have to tell you guys lol (p.s. i think swear i can write in present-ish tense but i can't begin without the bg set up womp womp)

next-door neighbors turned childhood best friends, anwar and joey were widely regarded (at least by the 13 people who knew them) as two peas in a pod; an inseparable duo that always happened to be together even when they weren't really supposed to. most — if not all parent-teacher conferences were chalk-full of complaints about their inability to stop talking to the other, and numerous family gatherings had been defined by the odd man out chatting happily as usual with their other half — their other half being a spikey haired anwar standing significantly shorter than he was now or the brace-faced joey who'd refused to make eye contact with anyone else.

over the near-seventeen years they were friends so tightly knit you couldn't even fit a coin between them, joey and anwar had obviously encountered their fair share of pros and cons that came with the territory. on one hand, they always got away with whatever mischievous schemes they'd come up with because no one ever expected them to be in on it together. however, the most pressing issue by far had always been the dating allegations.

for a long time even the mention of romantic feelings lingering around had them up in arms, vehemently denying the allegations with an iron fist as they cited how ridiculous it was to assume just because they were a boy and a girl. and though they began this uphill battle before even reaching double digits, the accusations would only grow worse the older they got and the further into their friendship they ventured.

anwar had always been the very first to deny, always saying the same thing; "you're sick and perverted, joey's my best mate! she's not even like a girl to me!" and for some reason young joey always found this to be hilarious. nowadays, however, not as funny. actually a little hurtful to be completely honest, but she knew why.

the god-honest truth was; joey had loved anwar since the start. she grew up with the hopeless gnawing of yearn at her fingertips, familiar with the fungus-like growth of blush on her cheeks as they walked home from school or shared a cigarette under the stars. she'd spent years tossing restlessly in bed every night in an attempt to tune out the annoying hum in her chest until it eventually became nothing more than white noise in her ears — somewhat manageable but still tender like a bruise when pressed.

by 14 she had figured out a way to better conceal the jealousy that bubbled inside whenever he drooled over the nearest being with boobs, that is, until she found herself whining under the covers like a sick dog. by 15 she finally came to terms with the fact that he'd never even look in her direction with romance in mind, and by her 16th birthday spent with the blubbering drunk, joey finally put the hopes of ‘something more’ to rest as she fell asleep with his elbow dug into her ribs and a lump of acceptance in her throat.

on the contrary, however, anwar was not afforded the luxury of carefully unraveling the warmth in his chest until the burden met his open palms. no — unlike joey's lifelong pining, poor dear anwar happened to be speaking with maxxie when the realization fell on top of him like bricks squashing a bug.

"i just — i don't get it! why does she do that?" he huffed before taking another swig of whatever liquor it was that they'd found at the park, sat leaned against his bed with the absence of her fairy lights reflecting into his window further grating his tender feelings. "of course i don't want to hear about some wanker trying to chat her up! that's disgusting!"

maxxie almost laughs at him, though he refrains. "oh, come on, anwar. you know joey's like mother teresa, i bet she didn't even let him dream about it. is it really that big of an issue?"

"it is! because now i have the image of this bloke shoving his tongue down her throat and if i think about it any longer i'm gonna spew!"

now pausing to catch the sad-faced-clowns gaze, maxxie snatched the bottle from him before shrugging, voice small like he already knew what would come next. "well..." he hummed, "have you ever thought about telling her?"

the aforementioned clowns eyebrows furrowed together. "telling her what?"

"come on, an, it's obvious. i've seen how you look at her. you'll never know until you give it a shot."

at first, anwar would fully brush him off. "maxxie," he'd say with the disapproval already written in his grimace "it's not like that — it's never been like that. i've never even thought of joey like that." but when his stripe-wearing friend finally went home and left him all alone to mull over their conversation, poor dear anwar would think of her like that. he'd find himself in a similar position that night, unbeknownst to either parties, curled into a ball under the covers as he clutched at his chest almost like he was ready to rip the frantic heart right out.

as jal would say months after this initial incident; "joey may have fallen in love first, but love fell on anwar." she was right, as always, but this wouldn't come to fruition until a period of continuous push-and-pulls between them.

of course, the days and weeks following proceeded as typical as usual; anwar and joey hung out for the majority of the day, partied on the weekends, found themselves waking up a tangled mess on the floor surrounded by the rest of the gang covered in a typical amount of vomit. nothing significant immediately changed — much to his dismay — but instead it seemed as though a list of strange circumstances added up over time to grow into the change they both so desperately longed for.

first it was anwar. joey noticed only a few days after he'd originally got upset with her that he started accommodating her more — at least more than usual. it started with the bag of chips they'd bought to share between their parallel windows. usually he'd try to convince her not to get the spicy chips due to the fact that it always ended with tears, but on this fateful day, anwar picked her absolute favorite without so much as a flinch before paying for it himself.

it didn't strike her as exceptionally abnormal until she finished her drink without realizing and was yet again left sniffling, eyes wet as she reached over the gap to hand it back to him with dust-covered fingers. he'd resume leaning against the window frame in search for his drink to hand over only to turn back and find her with a thumb between her lips, tears dripping down her pink cheeks. she laughed.

"they're just so good."

joey would wait for her expected response, something along the lines of 'you're a monster/addict/freak,' only to have his dumb grin be the entire response. she could see his gaze surveying her warm face before fixing on her eyes and staying there, utterly unmoving until she'd grumble.

"just say 'told you so' or something! don't make me stew in it."

anwar was careful not to stare for too long after that, he knew she didn't like feeling 'seen' anyway. but you'd best believe he was studying her features every time she wasn't looking, skin so much softer and lips so much rosier now that he saw her in the new light. he could've sworn she existed solely in a hazy glow colored by every new feature he witnessed pulling him in deeper. if only he could reach out to make sure — to check and see if she was really as radiant as he'd observed. how didn't he notice it before?

it would get to a point that, on a foggy drunken night, anwar would reach out to test his theory.

"— so, when i went home, i got to tell my mom all about how well i did and how many compliments i got from the teachers. she said she'd make my jjajangmyeon tomorrow, too!" from her seat on the counter, joey sat swinging her legs with a cup full of absolute jungle-juice swishing inside as she told him about her successful friday quizzes. "i'm just so happy it's over. i could drink myself to death!"

anwar swore he was listening — he swore he was paying attention to each and every detail about her exams and all the people and especially that bloke dominic — but from his inebriated place against the adjacent island of this posh house he could not for the life of him keep his mind off of the yearn to bring his pounding heart as close to hers as possible. with slow blinks emphasizing his glossy eyes, anwar set his drink down and pushed himself to stand up in one swift motion, arms already wrapped under her shoulder blades by the time she understood what was happening.

it wasn't like they'd never hugged before — they have hugged plenty of times, in fact. physical contact was not a foreign language to them after a long childhood of sleepovers ending with him using her as a blanket because they fell asleep on the floor, but it definitely became less frequent the older they got. waking up on the floor with his head on her stomach was still a common occurrence, but tender interactions like hugs were typically reserved for serious, gloomy moments that called for it. like when her cat died. not, for example, while she was around 7 shots in telling him about her awesome day.

"wh—what's up?" she chuckled nervously, pulse against his as her fingertips subconsciously found his spine, "this is super haram." there was an anxiousness to her voice that even an intoxicated anwar picked up on, especially when pressed so close he could hear the vibrations of her vocal cords. anwar took a deep breath before he pulled away to reclaim his spot against the marble.

"i'm happy you're alive."

a flash of furrowed brows appeared across her face before she was then setting her cup down, sliding off the counter to put her jacket back on. "okay, annie, time to go home. i want you to remember this in the morning when i nurse you back to health."

anwar declared to maxxie the following day (after recovering from his hangover) that he needed to be more careful with how he went about this with joey — if he was gonna muster the courage to talk about it, he had to be careful until that point came. he couldn't just find himself stumbling into it; he had to be smart about this and prove himself worthy as someone for joey, the famously proud virgin who ran off any guy looking in the wrong places for something 'haram' (as his dad and joey would say, though he was certain joey was only teasing.)

"how do i know she even likes guys? or anyone, for that matter!" anwar is almost spiraling with his eyes fixed on the ceiling fan, "the only people she's ever liked are all celebrities! sure, norman bates is an interesting choice, but everyone loves ralph macchio he's-the-fucking-karate-kid!!!"

maxxie, as per usual, was cool as a cucumber. "well, why don't you just do some spy work?” he suggested, “ask her sneaky questions...point her in that direction?"

this ingenious yet devious plan from the third musketeer would eventually be how joey accidentally stumbled into revealing a little too much, unknowingly lead into the territory by her best friend with a sinister motive as they waited on tony and michelle to stop shagging upstairs.

"hey," he'd inquire, innocent in the face as he looked over at her. "can i ask you something?"

"of course."

"the other day chris said mostly men have foot fetishes and mostly women have hand fetishes. is that true or..."

joey looked over at him already irritated, likely suspicious of a looming joke in poor taste. she sighed as she shrugged in an attempt to play off her genuine intrigue before actually pausing to think about it. it sounded true, didn't it?

"i mean...i have no sources, so don't quote me or anything, but i'd say it's probably true."

anwar leaned in a little closer. "but...so...you think a lot of women like hands?"

"i don't know, man," she chuckles and visibly leans away "i know some girls do. why are you so interested?"

"do you?"

now she's actually raising her guard, he can see it in her eyes as she grimaces at his questioning. "well..." joey starts, gaze flicking around the room so as to avoid his. "kind of."

anwar's mischevious smile would grow upon hearing this response, restraining the urge to tease and nudge her with an elbow in favor of continuing his spywork. "kind of?"

"i wouldn't even say it's a fetish like a foot fetish is —" she's speaking quickly the same way she did when trying to fight embarrassment, "it's just — girls can appreciate pretty hands when they see one — i can appreciate pretty hands. it's just an added bonus, you know? if you're hot that's awesome, if you're hot and you have nice hands..."

he didn't even have to think about his next line of questioning. "do i?" anwar asks, presenting forth a warm (and a little clammy from the nerves) palm toward her. joey's eyes would finally return to his, wide and utterly perplexed, before peering down at the fingers outstretched toward her.

"well..." she mutters, shaky fingertips grazing his knuckles as she turned his hand over. "i'd...say so. you have...um..." joey's almost crumbling under the pressure. her face is growing hotter by the second, covered only by the long locks of hair she let conceal her features while she tried to navigate this sticky situation. how to be honest while also not revealing that she had thought about his hands in detail plenty of times to recognize each and every vein and scar in the skin?

"well," her tone is stronger now that she's cleared her throat, "you don't have any visible diseases, so that's a start. your fingers are long — but not like, salad fingers long. and you have big hands, too, girls like that. — i think."

finally looking up from the back of the hand she knew well, joey's pupils are darker than before, a shy smile curling her red lips once she noticed his. 'sly' he thought, 'but not sly enough.' she'd set his hand back down in his lap as the creaking bed upstairs finally came to a halt.

"you're cheeky."

moments such as these, tense and somewhat awkward but certainly suggestive, would be given the time to grow into an entire catalogue (later discussed between maxxie and anwar) that eventually built up into one final, fateful friday.

it was a friday like any other for the pair, the beginning of the weekend spent walking home side-by-side after school in order to drop off their bags before heading to some posh party tony had invited them to. but, halfway through the getting-ready process, anwar would decide to make a catastrophic play;

"do you know if kelsey will be there?"

joey, from her place laid flat over his covers, almost scoffed. "um...why would i know?"

"she's in your last period," anwar shrugged nonchalance before pulling a different shirt over his head. "just thought you might have overheard her say something about it." from the corner of his vision he could see her sit up for the first time in 20 minutes, her arms propped behind her back as she looked over at him, though he couldn't see her expression.

"how do you know that?"

"she told me yesterday." he'd say simply. joey only inched closer, her full and individed attention on him now as she sat at the edge of the mattress.

"she told you? what does that mean?"

anwar couldn't help the smirk that found it's way to his lips at the obvious jealousy in her voice. he turned to look at her — wiping the grin from his face first, of course. "it means she came up to me yesterday before last period to ask to hang out." he stated plainly, watching as her gaze became sharper, "but i said no cause i didn't wanna cancel our movie night."

"oh, how thoughtful of you."

anwar was immediately certain he'd made a severe miscalculation by the absolute venom in her voice, low and barbed and filled to the brim with animosity as she rolled her eyes — a gesture he didn't see often. joey sat tense with her arms folded over her chest so tightly that her nails dug into the skin like she was holding the leash of a rabid dog.

she spoke again.

"so thoughtful, in fact, it makes me wonder why you even bothered to bring kelsey up at all. you could've just kept that to yourself — and yet here we are. why is that, anwar?"

he audibly gulped, his mouth agape as he searched for an explanation to offer other than the real one. joey was too quick, however, too well-versed in anwar-isms to not notice his obvious tells of dishonesty. within a beat and a half she's shooting to her feet with her pointer finger angled accusingly at him.

"you know what? i'm sick to death of your double standards, anwar, and i never got an apology after you totally brushed me off over the dominic thing — so it's funny that you decide now is a great time to tell me all about how badly that cunt kelsey wants in your pants. did you think i'd be happy you canceled because of me? that i'm the roadblock?"

in their near-seventeen years of friendship, never has anwar seen joey so angry. of course they'd argued in the past, especially over trivial things, but jo typically spoke in this distinct whine that came out whenever she felt cornered. maybe that was just how he made her feel at the time, and maybe that was how she effectively wanted to make him feel — but he didn't have the time to think about that now.

"n—no, no," anwar is backpedaling, his mind spinning the wheel on where to begin — what to do. "i wasn't—i just—it's different!" he's incomprehensible through the fire in her veins.

"what's different, anwar? your hypocrisy? — telling me all about how well you and kelsey kerr get along but i'm the bitch for telling you how massive of a cunt i was to dominic?" her eyebrows are almost touching, the lines of disgust visible by her flared nostrils, teeth bared like a violent beast. joey's almost yelling by this point, "you made me feel like bristol's town slut for telling that — that fucker off and yet here you are asking me if your stupid hookup is coming to this stupid fucking party!"

anwar begins sputtering for the right words to say, nearly unintelligible as multiple explanations meld together into a frantic jumbled mess. "jo — no — it's different now! i just mean — i didn't — i was just trying —"

she's over it. "you know what!?" joey interrupts, her volume close to the loudest he'd ever heard her voice (minus the spider on her shoulder.) "i don't want to hear it!" and without another word she's already turning on her heel, stomping her way out the door before slamming it behind her. thank allah his family was out.

of course anwar followed after her! what else was he supposed to do? he'd be hot on her heels the whole way down the stairs, blubbering a slew of apologies and explanations and pleads as they exited his front door and walked right up to hers. joey then turned as her fingers gripped the knob, face to face with him from her spot on the top step, and wholly severed any lingering conversation to be had.

"shut up, anwar! just shut the fuck up! i don't know if you think it's funny to piss me off or what — but now i'm pissed off! so what i need from you right now is to shut your mouth and fuck off because i don't want to say anything mean to you because i love you—so.for.the.love.of...god or allah or whatever! — go away!"

anwar went back to his room with his tail tucked between his legs, head hung as he flopped onto his bed. he'd turn to look out his window — the one that had always been their own personal menagerie for the other to watch and occasionally sneak into — only to find her blinds closed. with a heavy and distinctly discouraged sigh anwar would spend another hour or so going over everything that had happened — everything that could happen after this passed. he'd find that the longer he thought about it, the worse the outcome between them spiraled in his mind, his hands and his legs restless — itching to get up and do something about it. so he did.

first anwar tried tapping on the glass to see if anyone was actually inside there, rightfully earning himself a middle finger that emerged from below the windowsill. he took it on the chin with a short nod of acceptance before turning around just to brainstorm another option, then deciding to throw pebbles at the street-view glass. that was rom-com-ish, right? maybe he could charm her enough to hear him out, to just listen from the top of the tower she'd barracaded herself in, to understand the love inside that begged to be seen.

although this attempt was completely ignored instead, anwar was not discouraged, finding his own resolve by his side; he'd either burn every bridge to joey in one fell swoop, or he'd make it to the other side unscathed. using a trick from his sisters who'd gushed over john cusack after watching that one movie from the 80s, anwar would head back inside only to emerge with the biggest boombox he could find propped on his shoulder, the tape she'd made for his 14th birthday already playing one of her favorite songs.

it took a moment (the entire first chorus) for a response, but soon a glossy-eyed and puffy-faced joey appeared in the window, arms still folded over her chest and brows still furrowed despite his determination.

'and you do your best to show me love.'

he held the boombox taller, stronger atop his shoulder as he watched the grip on her own arms loosen.

'but you don't know what love is.'

anwar offered a weak, apologetic, pathetic smile.

'so are you listening?'

finally, the outline of her smile would be revived as she let go of her flesh to pull the window pane up, lifting it over her head to lean over the edge. she couldn’t resist paramore.

"trying to get arrested?" she asks, obviously teasing although her tone remained the same as before.

anwar wouldn't waste even a second, setting the still-booming speaker on the ground to dive head first into redemption, calling up to her with a muddled and quivering voice.

"joey, i'm sorry! i'm sorry i'm not a better friend to you! i'm sorry i'm a hypocrite and a dick and a caveman and a jackass — i swear i'm good inside! i can be tender! i can be kind! please let me show you! i — i have all these feelings inside me and to you it's just words and you know i'm not good with my words!!"

joey pauses. there's a lot to sort through here and not a lot of context, so she's mid-filling in the gaps when he starts hollering again.

"i'm sorry about dominic! i know it was shitty — i just — i couldn't stand the thought of him — !" anwar nearly chokes on the words "i just wanted to make you jealous! i wanted to see if you felt as awful as i did! and i'm sorry, jo! i'm sorry i l—" he stops himself to gauge her reaction.

there is a smile of utter disbelief on her face now, teeth growing more and more visible as she stares down at him from her place on the second floor. even under the familiar streetlight he can see her cheeks blushing a deep red, eyes sparkling with what he'd describe as hope. with a deep breath and a leap of faith, anwar would finally say the three simple words that sealed the deal.

“i love you!!” anwar calls up to joey from his place on the sidewalk, the prince at the bottom of the tower calling up to the princess. and what does she say?

“i think about you when i touch myself!!”

anwar had never been so sure about anything in his life.

[imaginebetterfutures]

I'm back with another sculpture! To be completely honest, this one was a real struggle for me to work out, idea wise. I love working abstractly (see earlier pieces!) but for this one our prompt in class was "objects and identity." We were asked to cast an object from life, and use it to speak to some aspect of ourselves that we want to explore. Not only am I an extremely closed book (pour one out for my therapist) but I'm also really not that interested in replicating objects?

So... I sort of cheated. This isn't *really* a cast of VHS tapes (although I did try to do that, and it failed miserably) but I'm still pleased with the outcome. Sound on for what I think is the best part — the pleasing and/or sinister snick snick snick sound of the tape unspooling and piling up.

If you like long, corny artist statements, boy howdy do I have one for you!

~~ GEODE ~~

My day job is as a journalist, and while I find a lot of the posturing that journalists do about our role as storytellers to be pretentious and often egotistical, I also can't deny that I got into this because I love to see into people's lives. Why do people do what they do? Why do we make the choices we make? How did we get here, as individuals and as a collective?

Much of journalism is about the big moments — wars and chaos and game changing plays. But those don't come out of nowhere. They come from a history, both personal and communal. We are products of our childhoods, our cultures, our teachers, our parents. We come from places that have smells and sounds and textures. And we document those things — and here I don't mean "we" journalists, I mean "we" as people. Humans have, for our entire history, recorded ourselves in one way or another. We write on walls, we tell each other stories, we come up with words that have deep meanings that stretch back into time.

Some journalists see their job as speaking truth to power. Or telling the important stories in the face of chaos and misinformation. Or staking a claim to truth, and defending it. All of that is true, of course. But when I think about my job I don't think about those things. I think about excavation. About telling the story in such a way that you can feel the texture of the people in it. I think of stories like geodes.

Do you know how a geode forms? They start with a volcanic eruption. Lava flows from a hot, angry vent, and mixes with the gases in the air. Most of the time, those gases don't stay put — they escape into the air and go off to become the wind in your hair, or carry pollen, or sweep under a bird's wing. But sometimes, bubbles of gas can't escape the boiling weight of the lava and become trapped. As the lava cools, those bubbles remain. It is only then — held tight and encased in cooling rock — that the crystals characteristic of geodes form.

There is something sad about opening a geode. It can reveal a great beauty, but it is also inherently destructive. You are taking a hammer to something hard and protected and asking it to open, to be seen, to be commented on. Not all geodes want to open. Not all geodes should be opened, perhaps. Not all geodes are beautiful inside. How do you know when to break one, and when to leave it be?

Once you break a geode, you open the crystals up to damage. UV light can bleach the colors inside and the oils on your skin can slowly eat away at the glittering growths.

I think a lot, as a journalist, about the stories that we lose when people die. The small things that they knew — the color of a lover's hair, the name of their neighborhood dog, the true identity of a soldier — that go to the ground with them. I have to stop myself from buying home movies when I see them at garage sales and thrift shops — each one, to me, a geode. Inside they might contain nothing, or everything. Wrapped tight in metallic film they recorded things people thought were important, things people wanted to remember. Trapped in plastic and now, broken open.

My piece is a VHS geode. I have broken it, and it is unspooling, and we are forgetting. It is beautiful and terrible all at once.

[ohmygodtheywereparabatai]

i wanted to invite a conversation about this because it’s genuinely been bothering me for a long time. and i in fact wasn’t immune to it either and am just now realizing this is the power of cinematic brainwashing.

but like, tgm is so many bad things. sexist, racist, ageist, to scratch the tip of the iceberg. token characters that meet the bare minimum for diversity, and sidelined women - i’d even say exploited women. a narrative that is so egocentric that it’s miraculous that some characters manage to hold their own instead of being swept under the charismatic magnetism of the reckless bad boy character who can get away with murder because deep down, he’s regretful, and he has a good heart.

what a shallow representation of the military, and what a disservice to those who were inspired to join because they thought the real life experience would mirror even a fraction of what is presented on screen. the reality is that there was never a competition to win a top gun trophy, and in fact today you have to pay 5$ at the top gun school if you even mention the film. that speaks for itself.

tom cruise being a huge part of the production process has made it impossible for me not to hold him responsible for the choices that have been made. to even subtitle the sequel movie with “Maverick”, the same protagonist as in the first one, comes across as insanely egotistical - and honestly a testament to how mav’s story manages to drown out the autonomy and validity of other characters. i’ll explain this terms of ice, penny, carole, and charlie. you’ll notice how i’m gonna be bringing up three women.

ice-

i don’t care that val kilmer gave the okay on using his cancer as a plot point. i care that cancer was not only used as a plot point, but treated like this ^

“i’m dying. you have bigger problems.”

the original script seems to peel back the layers of tgm’s intended messaging, so i’m using several examples. this is what is being communicated. i honestly don’t know what else to add. in or out of context, this is incredibly disturbing - and that it’s played as a self-aware quip from ice, even more so. the bond of wingmen goes both ways, and i just didn’t see that… if anything, that aspect leaned so heavily on the first film (the photo of them smiling at each other) that it just proves my point. it took ice’s death for mav to get up off his ass and do something to keep his career afloat besides get a cop-out from the compacflt. ice in the first movie was a compelling antagonist and voice of reason - now he’s mostly relegated to the role of babysitter, denying mav’s character the growth of accountability by simply erasing his poor choices with a phone call.

it’s why the darkstar scene pisses me off. to stop at mach 10 would have been fine, but to push it just for the sake of it is ridiculous. the fact that earlier mav states “i know what happens to everyone else if i don’t” in regards to his decision only makes this screw-up more laughable, because to me it’s the very contradiction of maverick: his intentions do not balance with his actions. costing the military millions of dollars in a few seconds somehow balances with his heartfelt desire to protect the interests of its workforce.

penny-

shortly before, during, and after this screenshot, i counted a total of 6 times that penny made it clear she would not appreciate mav’s advances. regardless, mav goes on to say “you look good”. this flirtation happens before mav is even aware of her marital status, as he asks amelia “where’s your dad?” in a later scene… which… dear god.

penny also says “it always ends the same with us, so let’s not start this time”, indicating this is a repeated pattern in which her boundaries weren’t respected and moreover, the relationship ended up failing. yet this is framed as the main romance of tgm, a wonderful and nostalgic callback to the original that ends as stereotypically as possible.

i love penny. she’s witty, caring, independent, and of course stunning. so i find her treatment in tgm a disservice to what started out as a rich and compelling character. she later ends up mav’s shoulder to cry on, more or less, comforting him after losing his wingman and his position as instructor. the song “hold my hand” is thematically suited for penny, playing in the background at the bar and in the notes of the score during her scenes - even musically, she is turned into a source of consolation first, and her own woman second. she’s his prize at the end of the film, falling for the promise “i’m never gonna leave you again”, which i don’t buy for a second. they fly into the sunset, presumably signifying a new horizon for their relationship - but i feel so dissatisfied with this arc for her and think she deserved much better.

that mav gets away with this behavior is something i’d like to see more people reflect on. it seems to be a pattern with male protagonists, in which case the function of male and protagonist in hollywood cinema needs an examination.

carole-

top gun (1986):

this is an especially crude exploitation to me. not only is carole the one consoling a young maverick (if a full-fledged 24 year old can be called young, in light of the tendency people have to dismiss his choices in ‘86) after his mistake costs her own husband his life… but her stance, even following a tragedy of that magnitude, didn’t change. goose would have flown anyway, and she knows that well enough - on top of that, it’s easy to see she would have supported him.

it came as a surprise to me that she wouldn’t in turn support her own son, who is clearly committed to a career as a pilot. in the end, i see a cheap narrative device that contradicts carole’s character, undermines her strength as a wife and mother, both in order to serve the interests of the plot. maverick in tgm needs a viable reason to hide a secret, to be tortured by his own consequences, to put further strain on his tension with bradley. there were plenty of other ways to do it, but the fact that it was this leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

charlie-

it’s my understanding that tom cruise’s personal reason (his excuse) for not bringing back charlie was that he didn’t like how their relationship ended. if there’s any source confirming or denying this, i’d appreciate a link.

anyways. yeah. this is… a huge problem with hollywood at large, which kelly mcgillis understands, but i’ll break it down. there’s a simpler reason this pisses me off more than anything. tgm’s entire subject matter is about repairing relationships. penny benjamin was dredged out of obscurity to do it. maverick and rooster’s grudge of 30+ years was used to do it. iceman’s character, as warped as he feels, is another way the film made this its theme. but charlie is out of the question?

that val kilmer could be asked to return, and make an insane amount of money for each second he’s on screen, but such an opportunity is never given to kelly mcgillis, who herself centers on the 1986 poster, speaks volumes to me. tom cruise even planted his foot when it came to reprising iceman, saying he wouldn’t do this movie without val in it.

it’s worth mentioning that viper and slider were also present at ice’s funeral, but this scene was cut out. for a film that’s quite heavy-handed with its nostalgic callbacks, this was an odd decision. until realizing, as my friend put it, that even ice’s death couldn’t be about him, whether it had brought in his own teacher or his rio - his goose. it had to revolve around mav, to catalyze a turning point for him in the plot.

also… a shoutout to the erasure of sarah kazansky, pretty much everywhere. that also tells me a lot.

…

this was just a dissection of the various character portrayals (or absences) in tgm that have bothered me since forever. this isn’t even going into how tgm accomplishes everything that propaganda sets out to do. combinations of stunning visuals, soaring music composed by masters like hans zimmer, the charismatic power of a cast packed with stars… all play a role in the blinding awesomeness of tgm, which has taken me this long to break away from.

consider the white/poc duos in the film: maverick and hondo, hangman and coyote, cyclone and warlock. who has more lines? who plays a greater role? why is that?

i don’t see this as real diversity. it masquerades as inclusion, which i find worse. and to cast an actor of asian descent, and give him the callsign yale? … wow.

framing is powerful. its influence in cinematography is unmatched. a story is being constructed and told not only through dialogue, but sound, visuals, editing… really, nothing can be dismissed as insignificant. i’m not asking for a scholarly interrogation of all media you consume, though, that would be so excellent, and so healthy… but i am trying to raise these questions in the community, of what gets lost when a main character is so overwhelmingly main. when someone like tc has so much control over the decision-making process, since it’s sort of a running joke that maverick is a tc self-insert. my focus isn’t the inclusions, but the exclusions.

and finally, since i’ve unfortunately spent a lot of life writing this post… it’s interesting to me that many viewers in hindsight seem to see top gun 1986 so differently. as kids, they sided with mav over the antagonist. an older audience returning to the first film now seem to side with iceman, seeing him as the rational one attempting to raise important points. i wonder if this will be the case with top gun: maverick in the future. in which case, i’m excited to see more cyclone fans. he’s my favorite character… unsurprisingly.

oh. one last thing.

“the man, the myth, the legend” … the word myth has two meanings:

…

happy reading.

[kyuala]

treasure as friends with benefits

hyung line + yedam only as this has mature themes! sfw maknae line version here. requested by anon.

hyunsuk

so shy, will literally never initiate anything. blushes easily and just wants to make sure you're comfortable at all times

you wonder if hyunsuk even wants this bc it's been like two weeks and he still hasn't hit you up. but by all means please do take matters into your own hands, he will NOT complain

probably gets anxious doing anything anywhere other than his bedroom the first few times you fuck, but you will reallyyyyyy see how fun and chill sex w hyunsuk can be once he lets go and relaxes

i feel like hyunsuk catching feelings could be a 50/50 chance, he does prefer to have sex with someone he's romantically involved with but it's not always a rule

if he does fall in love he will freak out tho lmao he won't know how to act around you

just wants to cuff you asap tbh

jihoon

LIKES TO FRONT 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

talks real big abt being a dom.... would probably let you dom him. thinks he's immune to catching feelings... will fall for you and then deny it like that's gonna make it go away. says he could probably handle like 3-4 fwbs at the same time.... cant stop thinking about you and turns people down bc of it

keeps buying you things he knows you like but nothing beats the stuff he buys you bc he's noticed they are missing in your house

on God wouldn't mind getting loud and letting certain people know ur business

secretly just wants you to do something - anything - in public that would show people you've got something going on with him and make them back off

compliment him and/or run your hands up and down his biceps and you will give him an ego boost that lasts like 3 whole weeks

yoshi

🚨‼️🚨 romantic feelings alert 🚨‼️🚨

i feel like yoshi would b very chill about the whole thing from the beginning. UNTIL he is not

feel like seeing someone else like that (and being seen by someone else like that) would represent a level of vulnerability to yoshi that would only make him look at you differently (all of you) and that would inevitably trigger some romantic feelings for him, no matter how light or intense

you will notice how much more easily he gets flustered around you, how he invites you to do stuff (out in public in the broad daylight!) with him, how he looks at you and kisses you all different and soft now

DEFINITELY falls into the cliche of asking you to stay for cuddles just a little while longer and feeling like he's on top of the world after waking up with you still in his arms.

probably doesn't really care what happens the first few times as long as you're having fun, but will not be opposed to you introducing some kinks or d/s elements (ahem, he lives to serve. wbk)

junkyu:

bro he would be in love w you before y'all even start oh my God. thoughts of you and what you do to him cloud his mind 24/7 like literally junkyu head empty thoughts y/n

this arrangement probably comes about during some late night talk in his studio when he just lets it slip before he can stop himself. when you agree he just stares at you like 😦 for like 25 minutes

not the best at initiating stuff (if you even count him staring at you from the corner of his eye and hoping you get the message as "initiating stuff")

gets these random bursts of confidence and he will be more active and make you feel good and ur like "boy where the FUCK has this been this whole time" and he's just like :3

not to get mushy all of a sudden but junkyu is literally moved by improvement and growth in his life so if you think things are good now.......... bro be prepared bc he learns FAST what makes you go insane and he will do it every. single. time.

mashiho

thinks he's good at this and is genuinely good at this (sorry to jihoon but this mans built different)

a full adaptable switch, he will figure out what you like and he will suddenly be it, simple as that (and he's good at it, too)

absolutely lives for late night rendezvous (he likes the vibe) but also doesn't really care about the time if he wants to smash he'll smash lol he just won't do it where he works and probably not even in the dorms either

i don't think he'd be afraid to hit u up but i also don't think he would do it that often. does it mostly when he needs to blow off some steam or when he's bored lmao

THE most responsible fwb, he will constantly ask you to keep him updated about how you're feeling and will keep communication clear with you too. will end things if you catch feelings and he doesn't bc he just cares about you and your well-being :(

jaehyuk

probably suggests it himself but will also be v pleasantly surprised if you do it first. doesn't even have to be someone he trusts that much, hell y'all ain't even gotta be friends lmao

seems like he'd try to be picky about when and where but truth is he can't resist you and is easily convinced lol he'd end up fucking you after some thigh touching and dirty whispering on your part

i don't think he would be that ashamed to hit you up frequently either. so be prepared for some thirst traps and some dirty texting 🤞🏼

wants EVERYBODYYYY to know ur business, you'd have to be constantly reminding him that being secretive is part of the deal lmao

i honestly do not think he'd catch feelings easily at all, but he'd be the absolute sweetest and be super considerate to you if you did. if he did catch feelings too he'd just want y'all to get into a relationship as soon as possible, like right then and there

asahi

i dont think he would lmaoooooo

but if by some miracle he did get a fwb, it would have to be someone he trusts a LOT. like top 10 most trusted people in his life type of deal.

probably cares more about the "friend" part than the "benefits" part lol prefers to just hang out and talk first rather than showing up and tearing each others clothes off or something

on the rare occasions y'all do actually do something i feel like he'd be all for it, almost never denying you. he doesn't want anything to feel too intense or stiff so sex with him will be very laid-back, chill, fun... it's literally just two best friends hanging out but he also happens to be making you cum bc he's naturally talented at it

wildcard. i don't think he would catch feelings but also with asahi there's always the off chance of something happening. if he does fall in love i feel like he would try to tell you as soon and as naturally as possible, just very calmly mentioning it the next time you two hang out

yedam

cocky 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

loves it when you hit him up and gets such an ego boost from it, will definitely mock you for needing him so much and ask you if you're that desperate for him (say yes i promise you won't regret it)

would probably get a rush out of fucking in places y'all shouldn't (his studio, the practice room, the dorms when someone else is home, you know the drill) and honestly would want to do it a lot too lol

ON THE TOPIC OF STUDIO SEX ....... he will definitely be a sucker for late night sex in the studio, with some mood lighting and stuff. would probably write a fun summer song that is actually about sex and say you're his muse or some cheesy shit like that lol

if he does catch feelings first he will be a mix of yoshi and hyunsuk. freaks out a lil bit first but then does his best to (subtly) show you how he'd treat you if you give him a chance at a serious relationship

main masterlist | treasure masterlist

[prime-empires]

BOOTING THIS BLOG UP TO LOWKEY RANT ABT DRS2 PART 1!!! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

-the fight scenes? crazy. insane. love them.

-lloyd having panic attacks because of his visions is so real. hes destiny's fav and also he's their biggest hater.

-arin is autistic confirmed you can't tell me no? "am i missing a social cue here?" everyone else also did but YOU!! ARIN WHEN I GET YOU!!!!!

-im going to call cole a gay slur with all of the love in my heart. im so crazy abt that freak normal about that character

-bonzle being the spell is such good character growth to me. her whole little story with her meeting wu was heartwarming and she really grew on me as a character since we really didnt get to see her in s1.

-gandalaria is an icon whom i love. shes so goofy and silly and the scene looking for the potion after bonzle got captured was silly and killed the tension a tad, but PUPPY COLE. he was a pupy...

-sora helping arin to raise his spirits and keeping it a secret is actually good imo. i really hope theres not a soul shattering scene in pt 2 where she tells him she did it! (pleasepleaseplease dont make this happen i might cry actually)

-kai surpassing everyone and learning basic rising dragon was a good idea. he was the original main character before lloyds arc.

-KAI MY BELOVED MOTHERFUCKER YOU BETTER GET YOUR FUCKASS RED SELF BACK TO THE REAL WORLD RIGHT NEOW!!! ur not the main character anymore bestie...im so sorry

-jay mandated one minute cameo was so real i need my boy back in the gang. need more cole/jay interaction...give me the besties. the Boy Besties.

-"they got hungry and went to chena noodle house" so real. so so real and in character of jay and cole. theyre best friends your honor STOP SEPARATING THEM

Overall thoughts: holy SHIT!!! I genuinely didn't think Dragons Rising would keep my interest like it has. I've watched this fuckass show since I was like 11, and by GOD they're keeping it real. The fight scenes are beautifully animated, they're keeping the characterization as close to normal as possible (of course there will be differences, no one can deny it). The story is enthralling and I really, REALLY love it.

can we get cole introducing geo to jay when he comes back as his bf to confirm all of our "suspicions" (they are dating. i dont care) but pleasepleaseplease im begging. don't keep us in the dark ninjago team

[drchenquill]

Foliè ~ chapter 10

(Chapter 1, chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, Chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9)

Getting closer

Never in my life had I agreed to something so quickly. So be it, I will kill her, rip out her heart if she had one, and she herself would be to blame. I could feel the joy flowing through me at the thought of finally freeing the world from her claws.

"I'll serve as your compass, since I can't tell you with any accuracy where I am."

She didn't know where she was? What was that supposed to mean? She should be able to give me an exact explanation of where she was. Was it that damn difficult or did she want to see us struggle for a while longer? "That's fine with me," was all I said. The man next to me tilted his head slightly, expecting an explanation. "She's playing compass and will guide us," I said briefly and set off, led by the woman.

Her voice was a whisper in my mind. Gentle, patient, and it irritated me to the core. She was madness, how dared she lead me with such a tender voice? I needed a distraction.

"What will be the first thing you do after we kill her?"

The man walked calmly beside me as I caught him off guard with this question. He widened his dark eyes and glanced briefly at me. "I hadn't thought about it. Well, I can't go back home, I'm afraid." I was confused for a moment, but nodded hastily. "That's right, you're a murderer" He winced slightly and scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "You know, little mouse, it's not very nice of you to wave that word around like that." For the first time, I felt remorse. I had been too quick with the words. "I'm sorry…" I mumbled. "What, an apology from you? Now that's what I call character growth." With red cheeks, I punched him on the shoulder, to which he just laughed. Silence fell between us again as we strolled through the forest, the woman's voice in the back of my head. A need to get to know him came over me. A desire to know, to understand. "Was he an acquaintance?" My question was cautious and I was determined not to probe in case he didn't want to talk about it, but he answered. "He… was many things, but not an acquaintance… You wouldn't understand." He forced his fisted hands into his pants pockets and avoided my gaze.

"But I want to."

He stopped, his breath hitching for a moment before he turned to me. "No… you don't," he said in a fragile voice, as if he was holding back so much that he was choking underneath. "Yes, I do. I want to understand, to know." His otherwise dead skin took on a slightly rosy color. He hesitated, doubting my words. "You'll hate me, and I don't want that," he whispered in a shaky voice.

I wanted to hug him, hold him close to me, tell him that would never be the case, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't take away his fear.

"See? You can't deny it"

He turned away, his gait tired even though it was early morning. I walked silently beside him.

"Stop"

I stop, frozen by the sternness in her voice. Instinctively, I grabbed the man's wrist. He stopped, his face showing confusion. "Little mouse? Are you all right?" I shrugged and waited for her to say more.

"You're reaching an abandoned village. You have to cross it safely."

"safely"? Fear grew inside me as I grabbed him by the arm with my other hand. "Okay, now you're scaring me," he commented with a nervous laugh. "She says we're about to arrive in a deserted village and that we have to get through it safely." "'safely'?" he asked, puzzled. I nodded and was about to find a detour when the man removed my hand from his arm to interlock his fingers with mine. He took a deep breath and said with so much self-assurance that I thought he was lying to himself: "What are we waiting for? We can do this in no time."

Oh boy.

~~~~

Tag list 🥰: @theink-stainedfolk , @frostedlemonwriter , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @rivenantiqnerd

(If anyone wants to be added or wants to be taken off the tag list, just let me know~)

[chaoticfandomgirly]

Suits Analysis because for the life of me I cannot understand why I like it and writing it out leads to epiphanies

I do not understand why I am so obsessed with suits. At first I just watched the show because I was bored and couldn't find anything else. I had heard about it and it was certainly too hyped for my tastes (the fact that my dad liked it did not help because I don't trust his judgement).

Then, I watched it and found the characters quite attractive while the plot was mediocre at best. I would never deny myself the pleasure of seeing beautiful people on my screen.

I would have probably stopped watching it by the end of s3 if it wasn't for me suddenly finding a whole community of marvey shippers. My main motivation then became wanting to watch the show for the fic content.

In the end, I would still say the plot of the show was pretty weak objectively and I don't like when shows can't get things right, and in this case, the law. But it had strong characters and nice arcs. Terrible relationship pairings though. If they were inclined to have heterosexual relationships, then Mike/Jenny and Harvey/Scottie get my vote.

Mike's character completely deviated by s6. The sweet and fun guy who contrasted Harvey's personality was gone and Mike lost that unique touch by just becoming one of the lawyers in the end. I would ofc understand the whole prison thing but it kind of did before that.

Harvey's character growth was impressive but the whole thing with Paula and then choosing Donna...it left a bad taste. Still, I think that Harvey Specter has become the defining character of the show which says a lot.

I think the only character that kind of had a nice characterization even though he was absolutely terrible at times was Louis. The dude actually carried the show in a way. No way would suits be the same without him.

Also Jessica came out as the Victor in being the only female character that remained strong and true to herself. I might have resented her at times for being against Mike but nevertheless I respected her.

Donna ruined her character pretty quickly around s4. And Rachel, she was too bland. She was just there. If Rachel was pulled out of the show nothing would change except Mike not being in a relationship with her.

So, the show was average. But the choice of cast, cinematography and portrayal of luxury in a fast city life really captured my interest. The idea of a genius boy living a life of felony being taken under the wing of someone impressed by his genius isn't entirely new or refreshing. But I think that the whole thing put together is really more impressive and I've got to hand it to the showrunners for incorporating elements of comedic relief, banter and a special brand for each and every character that gave it such a strong start from the pilot itself and hold the show despite the terrible polt lines. And I would not deny that every now and then, I would watch episodes from the 1st 2 seasons because they were amazing.

[allpainnogain99]

Time to screech about Sonic Prime S3E1

Alrighty. Having taken a while to screech about the first episode to myself...now I’m gonna screech about it here LOL I’ve got a LOT I could say about it, soooo here goes. Enjoy my random musings and mostly just me reiterating what happened in the episode lmao

Starting off with Nine. He says that the Grim could have been everything Sonic ever wanted. He and Sonic have the tendency to talk past each other in a way, and they were both inadvertantly using each other. Neither is entirely in the right OR wrong here (which I will absolutely go into more depth about).

Gotta take a second to talk about the fortress Nine creates. I absolutely love the symbolism of it (well, what I’m choosing to take as symbolism, anyhoo). He could very easily have just created a simple lab for himself, like he used to have (and like Tails had), but he didn’t. He created a giant, elaborate fortress. Why? Well, for the obvious reason of “someone might come after me, I need protection”, but I like to think there’s more than that. It’s about power (this will also get brought up again). Nine is more than capable of protecting himself, which is how he has managed to survive for so long on his own. But now? It’s not just about protecting himself. It’s about showing that he can protect himself. It’s a physical manifestation of everything he has had to hold inside for his entire life. All of the mental strength he has, all for the world (or lack thereof, as the case may be) to see. He doesn’t have to hide anymore, and he wants everyone to know.

Then we switch over to the two hedgies, and oh boy is there a lot to talk about here.

It hurts seeing Sonic so lost and confused as to why Nine would have left, “betraying” him in the process. Seeing it from Sonic’s point of view, he doesn’t understand why Nine would want to leave behind what he believed would be the perfect chance to make everything right. Despite being told all the way back in season 1 that Nine wanted to start “our new life” over in the Grim, Sonic failed to see how much the idea of them staying together meant to Nine, as just the two of them. He doesn’t see how much he hurt Nine by not seeing him as his own person. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he was somewhat using Nine as a stand-in for Tails. Do I believe Sonic was being malicious and purposefully stringing Nine along? No. Of course not. That’s not in Sonic’s nature. He was just desperate to have his friends back, and failed to realize how much his words and actions were hurting Nine. Which of course is still wrong and something he needs to realize and understand.

And then there’s Shadow. While many people headcanoned that Shadow would just up and punch Sonic the moment he stepped foot inside the cave, I was pleasantly surprised that he did not. Granted, it was because their lives were literally on the line, but still. Shadow took one moment to say “I toldya so”, and left it at that, prioritizing their escape. He didn’t constantly berate Sonic as they were running, either. The insane amount of character growth that shows just makes me so happy.

And can we just talk about the escape scene? (both parts LOL but in due time). The way they both looked out for each other as they ran, and the fact that Shadow risked falling behind to make sure that Sonic made it to the ground safely??? I just...golly I can’t screech about that enough. (Also this brief frame of Shadow going from being on guard to being annoyed about Sonic’s rough landing is absolutely hilarious and it will live rent-free in my head...forever.)

The ghost scene. Shadow doesn’t berate Sonic for stopping, he’s calm and even tries to reach out to Sonic.

He understands how much it hurts Sonic to see the illusions, a major turnaround from how he acted in season 2 (granted, Shadow had more time to come to terms with the ghosts, seeing as how he had been in and out of Ghost Hill before, but I digress.). He does try to get Sonic to move on, but in the end gives him his chance to grieve and reflect, which Sonic has not had a chance to properly do this entire time. I love how caring Shadow is in this moment. (Also SEGA LET SHADOW SAY “OUR FRIENDS” YOU COWARDS! ROUGE IS SHADOW’S FRIEND, DAMNIT).

And Sonic. How he had gone from hopeful in season 2 that he could save them because he had all the shards, to now being emotionally scarred by the idea of not being able to fix it if they can’t get the shards back from Nine...and watching literal manifestations of specters of your friends being drawn into oblivion...damn it hurts. But I’m glad he was able to snap out of it enough to follow Shadow out.

Escape pt 2: Hedgie Boogaloo. These two are so in sync, they barely have to exchange any words at all, they know exactly what the other is going to be doing, and I love it. I mean, look at this.

Shadow reaching out his hand and Sonic instinctually grabbing it to pull each other forward? Hell yeah!!! And here, all it takes is one glance and they both had the same exact plan. I cannot get over how much I love seeing Sonic and Shadow work together like this.

Nine making his own Metal Sonic. This means soooo much. Nine feels like Sonic betrayed him, but he can’t bring himself to entirely give up the idea of having Sonic by his side. The solution? Create a robotic version, of course. But also, the tiny bit of malicious tone when Nine says “Hello...friend” just gave me the shivers, I love it.

“If there’s anything knowing you has taught me, it’s that there’s always another way”. This line made me screech out loud, I love it so much. Shadow being willing to admit that Sonic not only taught him something, but that Sonic taught him to think outside the box, that things could have more than one solution, that there’s no such thing as giving up. I was grinning like an idiot at this, because yay character development!!!

(ALSO fduoghdfoighdf my grumpy baby being annoyed I can’t oh my golly look how adorable gahhhhh)

ALSO THEY BOTH GET TO ENTER ANOTHER SHATTERSPACE TOGETHER WOOOHOOO!!!!

It was all about power (remember that earlier? XD). In a way, Shadow knows what Nine is feeling. Feeling like the entire world has betrayed you, and having the chance to get back at them? Sound familiar? Granted they went about it two different ways (Shadow trying to destroy everything vs Nine trying to literally create a new world, to an extent), but they both went off the deep end when offered a chance at an ultimate power. Neither one cared what was happening around them, all that mattered was that they got what they wanted. But of course Shadow won’t admit to seeing himself in Nine’s actions, instead opting to just be like “OK yeah this kid is a menace, gotta destroy him”. Do I wish Shadow would be more willing to give Nine a chance? Absolutely. Is he going to? Probably not, that’s more Sonic’s shtick.

Was Sonic in the wrong for wanting to get his friends back? Nope, not in the slightest. That’s what he wanted all along. He spent so long trying to do that, after all. Was he wrong in seeing Nine as a stand-in for Tails? Absolutely. Again, he may not see it that way, but both his actions and words make it clear that he at the very least had a hard time seeing Nine as his own person. Even now, with the words “this isn’t you, Nine”, shows that Sonic doesn’t truly know Nine, because yes, this is Nine. Has been from the very beginning. A broken, distrustful, lost child who just wants a home and safety, friends or no friends.

As for Nine? Was he wrong for wanting safety and a home? Of course not. Everybody deserves safety and a home. Is he wrong for not caring what happens to New Yoke? Ehh...thin ice there. Wrong for not caring what happens to any Shatterspace? Yeah, there the line is crossed. At least in Ghost Hill there wasn’t any living beings (sure, the ghosts/illusions were there, but keyword there is living), but what about the others? Nine could end up having the lives of entire universes on his hands, even his own if he’s not careful.

Grim Sonic. And the fight against Grim Sonic. Have I ever mentioned how much I love seeing these two work in sync? Just that one little nod, and off they both go. It’s such a treat to see, and I will never stop loving it.

(Also Nine just casually making a robotic copy of Birdie is hilarious to me. Like, “Yeah, I made copies of Sonic’s friends, but also the bird is cool, so I just copied her too ‘cause why not?”)

“At least I can trust them!”. Nine is willing to spend his entire life with just robots for friends, and why? Because he can program them however he wants, to be whoever he wants. Nine is eerily similar to the original Eggman in that regard. He’s done with dealing with people, because people are inferior and betray you. Robots can be reprogrammed if anything goes wrong (Sonic Heroes, anyone?). Part of me is curious to see just how close to Eggman that Nine will end up becoming.

Talking about rebuilding the prism. This whole scene. What takes literally the span of just a few seconds, says so much, without even using a single word. Sure, Nine said he would need one missing thing, but after that? It’s all spoken through body language. Nine looks down to Sonic’s hands and shoes. It’s subtle, but he’s trying to show Sonic what he means.

Of course, Sonic doesn’t figure it out, he doesn’t see where Nine is looking. but you know who does? That’s right. Shadow. His face says it all. He doesn’t even have to say “I know what you’re up to”, it’s entirely unspoken, and I love that.

And Nine? He responds in kind. Look at this.

It’s a challenge. “Oh, you think you have me figured out? Then try to stop me”. Again, no words need to be said. He’s calm, confident, smug even. He thinks he has Sonic and Shadow right where he wants them. He doesn’t see any way that they’ll win, and he, again, wants them to know it.

But he didn’t account for how ready Shadow is for war.

Being entirely willing to take on all the Grim robots in order to keep Sonic safe? Sure, it’s for the good of the entire universe, but also because as much as he doesn’t say it, he cares. I mean, listen to what he says as he’s carrying Sonic away. He doesn’t say “This is to save the universe” or “we’re all dead if he catches you”, he says “this is for your own good”. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t say that. He’s getting so much good characterization in just this one episode alone, and I hope it keeps up, even if he ends up being seen in small amounts (I swear if he only appears in the finale I will cry).

Aaaand yeah. That’s the end of the episode. I honestly can’t wait to see what happens when the rest of the season drops. I am soooo not ready for it to end, but I’m excited to see how it ends.

TL;DR I screeched like crazy about how much I love this episode LOL

[derangedanomaly]

Umm. . . May I ask about the growth of your characters? (Including Chaos?)

Ah! Sure! Alright- *cracks knuckles* gonna be yapping! :3

My very early idea of my AU, Overcopy, was never supposed to grow the way it did now. I was never planning to expand on it ever again after this one post, that I thought about when making myself a sandwich. I was never even expecting it getting kinda popular. But then I started getting asks about Chaos and the others.

So I started drawing these guys ironically. I was like "Oh yeah, I'll just draw these sillies for the hugs, kisses and everything! And then I'll stop!" Those who were here before this whole AU was created knows that I was mainly a writing blog. I wrote for the UTMV imagines, FICS, and other things. But the more that I drew, the more I enjoyed it. Every drawing made me feel happier! I was never so happy before.

Back then, I was really unorganized. I didn't even have Chaos' backstory created. Every post I made back then, was just what I thought would be good, and did it. That's why Chaos' old backstory is a little messy. It's not throughoutly thought about beforehand. The characters were also a really big mess. I was REALLY unprepared.

Chaos is a character that was remade MANY times before, simply because I couldn't figure it out. I honestly didn't even cared much for his design in my first ever post. Heck, he was created only because I wanted to make Nightmare suffer. I was going off of NOTHING at all when I got asks like: How was he created? I came up with everything on the spot. And I think it shows.. TT

I've started properly rewriting his story/writing a script like 5 months ago. I started out by writing like basic points. Some general idea. This was actually the first time that I've thought about the MTT boys being unfiltered. I honestly did that because I felt like they were being weirdly nice. It just doesn't suit them.. (I also love Horror/gore). I planned to reveal this in the comics actually, keeping it a secret. But my friend, @idkwhaticandonow asked about it in one of my asks. So... I caved in and revealed it to y'all.

I'm gonna be completely honest about Blade...... I didn't have much personality thought about in the past. The only thing that I had about him (and made it into his whole personality), was that he liked Anime, and was a loser with no game. I started fleshing him out when I was writing the psychology of the MTT boys. (Their unfiltered versions I mean.)

I started writing Blade first, because it was just much easier to visualize him as a psychopath.

The hardest one to write, was probably Ted. I made him in my AU into such a sweetheart, that I didn't know how to make his unfiltered version. I don't want to spoil much, since I'll reveal unfiltered Ted very soon.

Writing Ace was honestly a little refreshing. He's such a yapper when he's filtered, so it was nice writing him be deadly silent.

Writing their psychology was actually so much fun! But I won't deny that it was difficult at times. I had a lot of breakdowns where I just couldn't think about it anymore, and instead went to play a game. Other times, it was very easy and went smoothly. But still... It was fun!

Nightmare.... I honestly tried to write Nightmare as canon-like as possible. I don't know why, I just really like canon Nightmare. But, I'm not the og creator of Nightmare sans, so I couldn't really achieve that well. But I tried my best! Making his character was actually.... Very easy. I'd say that Nightmare was actually the easiest one to write! Which is insane thinking about it now. The only difficult part about him, are his complex feelings. Those are usually the times where I ask myself, "how would he even react to that?"

Overcopy is still a project in production, but I'm trying my hardest every day to make the finished product have some value, and actually look good. I'm working on the script almost every day, correcting errors or any nonsensical things. I'm almost done correcting chapter 1 and chapter 2, then, I'll go into choosing a format, which I'll present it in.

You can definitely be excited for it! This is probably my biggest project yet, and I'm actually proud of it by far. ^^

[11cleyvaart]

Augustin headcanons, 2015 please?😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

This is the same as the 2015 Quimby one. It'd be it's own timeline and whole world. To me I'd like to think just completely different people.

They'd be born around the 1968 time frame giving them age when the 2015 show happens.

Also I just love to make my little creatures suffer like a Sims game. So Augustin here will have drug use problems. He loves his lean as Gadget.

Augustin Tamare was born into a Jewish household from parents who had left Europe, he and his sister were born and raised in their new country. Coming from the Hungarian and Austria border. 

He's older than his sister, Leilha. 

As a small boy at ten, he was given transhumeral amputation to stop the growth of cancer in his arm. He's lived his life with one arm, his parents could never afford a prosthetic but he didn't feel any less than himself. 

Yet with the loss of his arm, he was judged by the other kids at his school and seen as inferior by the teachers, so he was separated from the others. Leading to difficulty later in life to make friends. 

He mostly spent time with his little sister who was also his only friend. Which would hit harder when she left to marry leaving an empty hole in his life. 

He was raised in a Hebrew family, his parents being unashamed of their religion would display a mezuzah outside their home. Something he would continue to do as an adult but forgot his religion the longer he became Gadget. 

He wished to be a police officer even with his disability, his parents discouraged his dream opting to do something less dangerous. Hoping he'd change his mind once he reached 18, but he didn't change his mind. 

He tried three times to get a job in the department but was denied each time due to his lack of arm, yet he was able to do everything with one. It wasn't until he was given a chance to prove himself physically did he get the job. Claiming he could take down a person with one arm, which he proved as he had strength in his left arm. 

During this time, he gained glances from another at the station. Frank Quimby would often glance at him in ways that Augustin was unable to understand. Augustin had no intention or feelings for the attraction of others. He simply was dedicated to his job once he gained it. 

But he began a friendship with Quimby, he was confused at first by Quimby saying he was a man but had the shape and body of the opposite. But saw nothing different in it once he was told by Quimby what he was. Augustin began to feel a deep connection grow between them from that point on. He still was confused what transgender meant but it didn't stop his connection with Frank.

Once Quimby became chief inspector, did Augustin make it into the detective sector. He gained it through his hard work but also strings pulled by Quimby who wanted to give the man his dream. 

Augustin also began a small addiction to cough medicine, which led to him getting high on the codeine. He knew he was wrong but he couldn't stop it. It was something he had to hide from everyone. It grew into a larger problem but he tried to stop.

Soon after this, Augustin begins a relationship with Quimby. Starting off as friends who then began a deep connection with one another turning into a romantic relationship. Yet they never took their relationship to a sexual one. Both men were unsure on how to go about it, Augustin mainly because he didn't want to pressure Quimby but as well he didn't want to ruin their relationship. 

By the mid 90’s did they begin to explore each other in ways. Augustin found he loved it only with Quimby and Frank found he was comfortable with the idea of sex. Each man took it slow but hadn't fully reached the level of taking it far just yet. 

1999, Augustin asked Frank to marry him, he wanted to show Quimby that he loved him for everything he was. To which they did marry after work one day on a spur of the moment idea, just a quick courthouse wedding. Frank would keep his last name to not make it obvious that the head boss married the man he helped gain job titles. 

They lived in a small apartment together and would take their relationship to the next level by becoming sexually intimate and having their first time. Frank would begin HRT which Augustin supported by 2000.

In 2001, Penny was born, making Augustin her uncle. He had a strained relationship with his once close sister after she had married and closed herself off to him. 

By 2003, did Frank and Augustin have a scare with pregnancy. Augustin found that Quimby was with child, leading them to deal with the possibility of a child when they weren't wanting one. They lost the child not too after finding out, putting a great deal of guilt on Augustin. 

Gaining him to turn to his addiction again of codeine, both men began dealing with stress. Only when Frank was diagnosed with bipolar 2 did Augustin try to curb his opiate addiction to codeine. Getting clean the best he could for Quimby who needed him more than ever. 

By 2005 did Augustin and Frank gain guardianship of Penny. Her parents had left her in their care , eventually turning her over to them. Which made the two have to find ways to care for a small child in their hectic lives. 

2006 did Augustin have a large car wreck that would lead to him being in a coma. He was unable to function without the need of machines. Frank never got to speak with him again after this. 

Quimby had placed Augustin on the volunteer list of the Gadget project that was in the works. Quimby didn't want to lose the man he married. 

Augustin had died at 38, but his brain was able to be transplanted into a cybernetic body. Yet the damage of the accident had ruined his frontal lobe along with the lack of oxygen had destroyed some pathways in his brain. 

As Gadget the frontal lobe damage had caused memory loss, personality change and attention span. He still could recognise Quimby as someone he loved but it was confusing at times for him. 

His brain had difficulty adjusting to the new body and the use of both arms, the Gadget project had to be halted to install the help of artificial intelligence into Augustin. Which would make for more loss of the man before. 

Quimby tried his best to help Gadget remember their lives together. It was difficult to bring back what they had, at times a glimpse of Augustin would come out of the cyborg leading to their lives being back to what it was. But these moments were short lived. 

I probably spelt some words wrong and forgot things but it's not like anyone cares at this point. I'm too far gone on 2015 that people have stop giving a shit.

[suckishima]

Chapter 158 vs. Chapter 298

“I am under no illusions that I could ever beat you on my own.”

(don’t mind me going insane under the cut)

ugh there’s two big things that make me crazy about this and 

1 is the surface level of just how yamaguchi’s individual growth keeps going even after the seijoh 2 match—when he gets those run of points and it becomes clear to us that his hard work has paid off—but it doesn’t just stop there! the first panels here are from the shiratorizawa match, the next match after seijoh 2, and i love this bc it’s another example of haikyuu saying “hey so that thing you wanted, you worked hard, you earned it, celebrate!” but then going on to ask “okay so what do we work for next?” and for yamaguchi he’s gone from ‘i just want to be on the court with them’ (deciding to learn jump floats) to ‘i wish i could get my body to listen to me the way theirs seem to’ (failing in siejoh 1 and doubling down during tokyo training camp) to the first panels here ‘i want to contribute/add value to the team’ to then finally the panels from the nekoma match where he can do more than just help, now it’s ‘i want all those things and more. i’m going to get these points with the team and for the team, all with my serve.’ and he DOES! like the GROWTH in his confidence!! aahh

and 2!! this is where i start to really lose it lmao, is his inspiration for all of that! why does yamaguchi play volleyball? because he thinks volleyball is cool. why is it cool? bc tsukki plays and tsukki is cool, and akiteru played and akiteru is cool, right? but is that enough?? by the time high school comes maybe it isn’t, bc of everything that’s happened and he’s a little disenchanted, but then he hears hinata and kageyama’s “as long as i’m here you’re invincible” and he thinks oh sHIT that’s cool! but he doesn’t have that kind of confidence, and he isn’t a setter or really a hitter, he’s barely even a server at this point—the only position on the court where you could gain points entirely alone—but THEN he also sees and understands the significance of a perfectly executed serve and block and he thinks not only is that ALSO super cool, but he realizes if he can get better he can do that super cool thing not just for himself, but for the team and more specifically, for tsukki. 

yamaguchi sees hinata and kageyamas totally insane, reciprocal declaration of making the other better and he starts to get mad at tsukki for not trying. because volleyball is cool, making each other stronger is cool, and tsukki is supposed to be cool too!! and instead of giving up, yamaguchi puts tsukki in his place and then yamaguchi just keeps trying even harder!! and his hard work and dedication is perplexing to tsukki. it’s frustrating bc he can’t understand it yet but he also can’t deny the fact that it certainly isn’t lame. yamaguchi’s passion has never been lame, and then tsukki starts to get inspired too. slowly it begins to cycle, and spiral upwards. yamaguchi took the first initiative to seek out shimada, tsukki joins his brothers practices and agrees to train with the gym 3 boys, yamaguchi has his ‘moment’ when he gets all those points in seijoh 2, tsukki has his when he stuffs ushijima (and neither of them is surprised by either of those moments!! of course they work they’ve been watching has paid off), and then by the time the nekoma match comes up yamaguchi’s confidence has grown tremendously, he gets an ace immediately after those panels and thennn he and tsukki execute their first successful serve and block. the volleyball equivalent of a perfect play. 

we never see yamaguchi and tsukki practice together, and yet separately they’ve been working toward this, silently inspiring each other over and over. individual work but not only individual growth. tsukki tells kuroo he never ever thought he could beat any of them on his own. in his own way, yamaguchi’s actions have made tsukki invincible too. and  kuroo and tsukki also both acknowledge that yamaguchi is already a step ahead once again, planning how he can do even more, starting the cycle another time. they keep passing the inspiration back and forth, connecting one volleyball moment to the next to drive the other to keep working, keep trying for even more!!!!! aaaaaahh