#too many thoughts in my head makes me insane

[l0stfoster]

You already know who it is, back on my bullshit 👉👉 not here for paul this time (SHOCKING)

So , darry. Darrel Curtis. My boy my baby. I just have like ,, general things i want to know more about so bare with me bc hes my fav alongside paul ofc and i can ramble

1. When did his tail get permanently fucked up and how did he mess it up so badly?

2. Ik his powers get unstable when he gets like ,, real upset so besides the night he slapped Pony, are there any instances where he just got outta control ?

3. Is he afraid that his relationship with Paul isnt real bc of his mind manipulation bc baby knowing me if i had that power id be scared to mfing death

4. Goddammit im mentioning paul again sorry but ik darry calls paul pretty boy (heart hands i love that) but does paul call darry any pet name that just makes him SWOOOON

5. Has he ever gotten jumped post-book ?? I imagine that before him and paul fell out he had told him a bunch of things including weaknesses that socs used to their advantage ESP after paul “betrayed” them, and what better way to hurt paul holden then to hurt the person he loves more than life itself

Okay thats all for now b4 i go literally insane but i may be back bc i have questions abt other couples 😼😼😼

You’re so fucking real for the Darry enjoyment too I also adore him he’s such a guy. Both in canon and in the au, I need to kiss him on the forehead. DARRY YAP TIME (Crow will be so joyous)

Timewing got really excited about this one so a lot of the answers are his, I just added on afterward with my thoughts, so the first bullet point will be hers, and the second one is mine!!

When did his tail get permanently fucked up and how did he mess it up so badly?

- I assume he tried to crush it or break it violently enough that it needed to be amputated. One way of the latter reason probably would've been falling off the roof of the house back first. One way of the former reason is heading out to a field and trying to slam a hay bale on it. - I personally like to think he'd gone far enough to get his hands on a spare tire from their father's truck and,, crunch! It was the only way he could think of doing enough damage while getting away with it since the car had issues enough to need active little fixes and tweaks, including tire changes. He was around 17 or 18 during all of this, by the way. Unlike his ears, this isn't one his family knows was purposeful.

His powers get unstable when he gets like ,, real upset so besides the night he slapped Pony, are there any instances where he just got outta control?

- There are so many instances but it happens more so when he's stressed. There were a few situations where during tests during school he accidentally ended up making an entire class of 20+ students so anxious a few were sent home and a couple jocks had panic attacks. Another instance was (using the musical for this) when he and Soda were brought in to be asked abt Pony's whereabouts and he got so pissed off with the questioning that he also heightened the officer's anger and nearly got himself arrested. Also the rumble. I think that speaks for itself. - A couple other instances I can think of are after their parents died, when Dally got shot, and uh. The entirety of the duration that Pony was gone, though that was mostly him heightening his own distraught compared to anyone else. He probably does it every now and then at work too during rough work days, which makes for some interesting occurences.

Is he afraid that his relationship with Paul isn't real bc of his mind manipulation bc baby knowing me if I had that power I'd be scared to mfing death.

- Absolutely. He stresses abt it every second of every minute of every hour of every day. - A little fact that Darry doesn't know, though, is that after Paul's powers are presented he has a level of resistance to certain types of curse-related powers! He's not immune, per se, but Darry's manipulation, Soda's song, and Johnny's death sense are all a little lowered; this is because he's in the direct bloodline of the witch who cursed Tulsa. In the way that Johnny can't see Paul's death date (but can get flashes of it), Soda's siren song is easier for Paul to break himself out of and he can tolerate Darry's manipulation for a little longer before caving into it. Parry fans can rest easy knowing that Paul's love for Darry is 100% genuine. Unfortunately, Darry does not know that </3

Goddammit Im mentioning Paul again sorry but ik Darry calls Paul pretty boy (heart hands I love that) but does Paul call Darry any pet name that just makes him SWOOOON

- It's mostly the Latin nicknames that get him. He may not know what the hell Paul is saying but he's in love with it anyway. But he's also especially fond of being called the ever so typical "sugar" - Yeah it's just a bunch of Latin and then the usually sappy ones. Darling, Doll, etc. Paul hits him with “Optimum accidit mihi” ("The best thing to happen to me") once and Darry would actually fold if he knew it.

Has he ever gotten jumped post-book ?? I imagine that before he and Paul fell out he had told him a bunch of things including weaknesses that socs used to their advantage ESP after Paul “betrayed” them, and what better way to hurt Paul Holden than to hurt the person he loves more than life itself

- I imagine maybe once but there was also when he went hunting for Two's stolen feathers and was... scary. He's a scary dude, no one wants to mess with a fae that has that much muscle and is probably not afraid to bite you. - I also agree that,, yyyyeah, Darry is arguably one of the greasers to get jumped the least, including post-book. He works a lot too, so it's not like there are many open instances for him to walk around. Darry definitely told Paul any weaknesses that did exist, but I like to imagine Paul kept those real tight to his chest- He absolutely used them himself during their time hating each other, but could never get himself to tell the other socs; it was a level of trust he couldn't bring himself to break, especially since Darry had seen and heard his own share of things from Paul that he never spilled. The Socs also didn't know that Darry was what Paul valued the most; sure, Paul was very clearly into him, buuuut they make their own assumptions regarding his sexuality and how things go relating to it-

-I could definitely imagine a scenario where they attempt to sabotage Darry and Paul's relationship out of spite if they knew how dedicated Paul is.

[bucknastysbabe]

i'm like two years late but i finally binged the 1st and 2nd season this week! currently obsessing over the concept of cole w/ rhaenyra's valyrian-looking (but bastard nonetheless) daughter, returning after 5 years on dragonstone. thoughts?? anyway glad i found your blog it's actually making me more insane <33

Yessss I like this and decided to make an angsty lil songfic!!! Thank you for waiting! I’m so glad you love my stuff it’s so rewarding!!!! COLEWIVES RIDE AT DAWN TO PONDER LIFE ON A LOG AND BE HORNY

I hope you enjoy mwah mwah❤️

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Song fic, Velarystrong Princess, TW: very twisted thinking, homicidal ideation, hate sex, sadism/masochism themes, bastardphobia and dornish racism match made in heaven, obvious poison tree allegory and trying to work through both sides own mistakes screech, ye olde seroquel hours, Criston gets his head fucked with, angst, dark, rough sex, quickie, pnv!sex

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @elaratyrell @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

You were ten years of age leaving the Red Keep. There was naught much but scorn and pain surrounding the place. As Rhaenyra’s first, you were a baby girl born with dark hair and dark eyes. Save the silvery streak in the thick curls— still, that wasn’t much to help.

You could cry and yell until you were blue in the face claiming your dark eyes shone like indigo in the right light. Aegon would laugh and laugh. Queen Alicent had remarked in passing that your features were too ‘strong’ to overlook. She didn’t mean the Valyrian traits.

Your family left for Dragonstone, anger in your heart, wishing them to choke on their words. The whole lot of the green-clad faction. The morning upon leaving was seared into your heart, tucked away to stew upon. You were straggling behind, trying to decide whether to desecrate something in the room or not.

A knock upon the door made your head whip up. You opened the heavy oak up, staring at one Ser Criston Cole. Your mother always instructed you to stay away from Alicent’s loyal kingsguard. His dark eyes scanned over you and the room. His head tilted toward the right as he gruffed, “It’s time to leave, Princess.”

He spat the last word out like bile. It made your skin prickle uncomfortably while grabbing your soft-knitted dragon dolly— black as night. You walked beside the knight, knowing he’d never much liked your mother or any of you, your ‘father’ Laenor, and Ser Harwin. You missed Ser Harwin as he was good and kind.

Ser Criston looked down at you, his lips twitching.

“Do you suppose you’ll enjoy your new home? A fine one for the future Princess of Dragonstone.”

You eyed the bigger man back, anger growing in your chest. Instead, you replied quietly, not wishing to incite his notorious rage, “I do not wish for it. My mother has enough issues. My brother Prince Jacaerys shall receive the inheritance.”

It’s people like him who made you decide that at such a young age. The anger, the scorn, the stares all the time from court and ‘family’.

Ser Criston let out a bitter little laugh, “Hah- you might be smarter than the whole lot. You’re sharp and strong.”

That was the end of talking with Ser Criston. The seed had been planted along the many others. Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Otto, the list went on and grew.

You were back in King’s Landing once more. Now a woman grown of eight and ten. Everything felt different and the old burning in your chest began to rise once more. You hoped the deep anger would shield you from this cutting place— something to keep the pain from sinking in. You were here for another claim of bastardy, this time from the Sea Snake’s brother.

You weren’t a child anymore. Under your veil of anger and haughty face, there remained a well-developed princess. Lovely sweet fruit and honey, hiding the blackened insides. The stares of the staff and onlookers in the yard shifted to the now older children of Rhaenyra.

Jace and Luke watched the much taller form of Aemond sparring with the white knight. You had learned the truth about him after bothering your mother enough. He was still handsome, spry, and dangerous despite his age. Aemond made Criston yield, turning to face your brothers.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked.

You stood behind them, frowning, sharing none of the shock and awe they displayed. Aemond likely suffered from the same as you— swallowed whole with righteous anger. Ser Criston peered at the boys, then you.

All three of you passed, the knight sipping from his wineskin. He was leering, thick brows down as dark orbs roved your face, down to your tits and hips. You spat, “Mind yourself, Ser.”

He almost choked on his water, Aemond’s brow raising and Jace grabbing your arm to speed along.

How dare he look at you like some slab of meat when he hated everything you were. Who you were born from. Jace murmured, “Come now, don’t let him rile you up, you know how it’s going to be here.” Luke was frowning, the princeling worried.

As the day passed, you felt your mind head in different directions. Your mother had even checked on you, asking why you were so distant. You shrugged, claiming to be unsettled by the events of earlier. Daemon sliced the man’s head in half in front of everyone.

As they dressed you in a room, you pondered Cole. How it would feel to slap him, make him admit he wanted another princess. He desired a bastard, a bastard born of the woman he lived to hate. You wanted him. The hate in your heart needed suffering for him— even if it reflected on your hypocrisy.

The conflicted feelings turned swiftly into conviction through the wretched dinner you sat through. Putrid comments from your uncles. Fighting and laughing, crying and dying, the premonition that this would be the only time all of the ‘family’ would sit in a room.

It was sad in a way. The fact that everything had been cleaved in half before anything good could come forth. Not that you could do anything. You’d reap what they had sown, the sins of the forefathers. You could wallow in feelings that always turned back to the same damn thoughts.

Let them all burn in agony. Feel the pain you’d dealt with for years, a firstborn bastard with a cunt. It was such easy pickings when your mother remained heir. As she was entitled to be. Sometimes it seemed easier if she just let Aegon’s idiotic self become king or hire some faceless man to kill them in their sleep.

There you were. The anger and fantasies took the pain of real life away. Blooming in a million separate ways, oh, but what if? Your lips curled up walking down the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, fingers trailing across the walls after being dismissed from dinner. You narrowed your eyes at the familiar form placed outside your door.

You stopped near Ser Criston, leaning against the frame of the door. He nodded, “Princess.” Criston had spat it at you like an insult again, likely ruffled from your behavior earlier. Why was he here of all places?

“Shouldn’t a warrior like you be outside of Luke’s door so Aemond doesn’t go carve his eye out?”

His eyes narrowed, yet Criston’s lips spread into a thin smile. The marcher replied, “No. It’s for protection. A pretty unmarried princess like you? Most men here would open their door. So in you go.” He opened the door, jerking his head with a grimace. You caught the implication swiftly, bristling.

“Oh? Because I’m on the wrong side of the blanket you think me to go out and fuck the men of the castle? My wretched uncles, who don’t give less of a shit about me?”

You shook with anger, trying to shove the pure hate back into the little pocket in your breast. Ser Criston gripped your arm, escorting you in with a growl, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed off his helmet, hackles raised as his eyes studied you, his other hand coming up to hold the other arm as you tried to squirm away.

Criston’s voice was more shaky than you expected as he spoke. It was a bladed jab, “I’d almost say she birthed you on her own if it weren’t for that hair, you’re just as spoiled and miserable as your mother was at this age. You’re reckless, not to be trusted.”

Your lips pursed as he held you in place. The anger wanted to burst back out, fire and blood indeed. No, no, you needed to nurse it for when the time was right. Even if the little metaphorical pocket you’d sewn the seeds of resentments into had grown into a cavern. A void of straggling branches and vines only filled for a moment.

If the knight in front of you knew how fucked up you were, he would likely seal you off in the black cells. Father above, your mother would too. You’d be mad and alone— but the fantasies and resentments would keep you company.

Eyes gliding up to Cole you finally replied, “I suppose I am reckless. This place makes me mad. How you tolerate it is beyond me.” You’d rather not speak on your mother at the moment, but you sighed, “My mother has done good by me. She’s loved us all. Yet she doomed us with our nature, especially with my little silver brothers.”

Criston seemed to like your response, hands easing off you. He hummed, “You are sharp. Of tongue and mind. That’s never changed. Alas, you’d never know peace until you’re well married off and away.”

You crossed your arms, putting some paces between you two. There was a manic laugh bubbling from your chest, a harsh noise, “I’ll never know peace wherever I go. None of us will, alas certainly not you either. Not with what weighs on your soul.”

The Kingsguard’s long legs closed the space, hand darting out to grip the side of your head as he growled, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of. Ill-begotten wretch.”

You grinned.

Criston didn’t have the luxury of nursing his anger. It appeared the more he tried to hold it in, the more it seeped out. His entire body was on the attack as he glared at you, eyes wide, teeth close to baring, thick brow twisted up. He didn’t sew a pocket and you wondered if it was worse or better for the soul.

You leaned up into his angered visage, lips close to his, your lips split into a mocking smile. Something was invigorating about this— watching his nostrils flare as the brunette sharply exhaled. He hadn’t released your head, breath choppy.

“You’re confusing me,” Criston gritted out.

“I want you of course.”

Spoken as if it was the most simple thing. Gods this felt fucking good.

He smashed his lips to yours, nose bumping together as he turned his head, lowering to your height. Your nails dug into his neck, inexperienced lips molding to his pace. It was rough, brutal really. Criston’s tongue ungracefully slipped into your mouth when his hand slapped your ass, prompting you to yelp.

You smacked him back on his cheek, pulling away. Criston growled, “You’re definitely on the wrong side of the coin and blanket, get over here.”

You surged back to smash your lips against his, gripping at a handful of dark hair, groaning as teeth and lips meshed. He turned you toward the bed, bigger frame crowding yours, shuffling steps until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You hissed as he pushed you back, your body bouncing once.

Criston immediately pinned you down, his cold plate digging into your soft skin. He breathed, “Sick goddamn spawn. I see the thorns underneath.” One of his knees propped against the bed, teeth subtly dragging down your throat. A hand kneaded and groped your breast, drawing a low moan from your throat— the edge of pain sent more throbbing below.

You wanted him to hurt. Moreso you to hurt and throb with pain, entering that state of bliss within. All of Criston’s physical soft spots were practically hidden, you reaching down to undo his sword belt clumsily. The knight smirked.

“You want my cock? Fitting for a natural born off a whore.”

You spat back, “Says the man who fucked the whore and now wants her filthy bastard. Is it my cunning, sly nature? My natural wanton lust that weakens you so?”

He gritted his jaw, hand slapping down next to your head with a curse. Criston swallowed heavily, both of his hands rucking up your dress, ripping anything in the way. He’d rip you too. A nice surprise you supposed, perhaps not for him.

You taunted with a grin. “You’re weak you know? Must be the Dornish blood. Ser Criston, you just need the feeling of a noble cunt to keep you going, hm?”

He was feverishly undoing his breeches and padded tunic. Shoulders shaking with anger, disappointment, something else. Criston cursed as his fingers slipped again, huffing, “Fuck you.”

You waited with a smug look, looking forward to this new, powerful experience.

His dusky cock was flush and hard, bigger than what you imagined. You weren’t sure what the imagination even was— your fantasies were feelings, not pictures. He felt at your bare cunt, thick calloused fingers unceremoniously delving into the slick heat.

You grunted, the pain giving way to more. So much more.

Criston pulled his fingers back, brows raising in alarm as the maiden’s blood covered his fingers. You watched him and quickly jerked his hand over, eyes flicked upwards. The man shook harder, gasping, “Gods fucking dammit— damn you, damn you!”

You suckled your essence and blood off his fingers, biting at the tips, just enough to leave the fingers throbbing. The anguish upon his shining eyes and his furrowed brow was gorgeous. More arousal filled your belly, moaning softly. He rumbled out a low noise, breath heavy, the knowledge he’d fucked something up due to instinct again eating the man alive.

“You broke it, now take me,” you demanded, licking blood off your lower lip.

Criston let out a harsh noise akin to a sob as he aligned himself with your soaking pussy. There was a long pause, likely a useless prayer in his head. He inhaled against your pulsing neck. You moaned again as the thick tip of his prick entered. The earlier stinging and pulling returning, the pain sending your lashes to fluttering.

“Mm- fuck- don’t stop, hard, I want it hard,” you rasped.

Criston moaned weakly, jerking his hips forward, breath hitching against as he had filled you to the hilt. Guilt and shame roiled off his frame. Meanwhile, you could breathe it in, feeling like a god. The power you held over this sick, pitiful man who happened to be a warrior. Your walls shifted and burned, something to relish.

“Come on now, take me Ser,” you cooed, a hand skating down his neck to squeeze. He thrust again, the pair of you gutturally groaning. You spread your legs wider, planting them on the bed, shuddering at the fullness and dull throb.

He began to shake the bed with the force of his fucking, grunting, and huffing into your neck. Criston would hold up sometimes to mutter pitifully, shivering from head to toe. His handsome face screwed up, thick brows knit as he groaned.

You panted, “Feels so good, fuck.”

The friction was nice, but his broken mumbling made you grow dizzy with arousal. Guilt lurked beneath, you shoving it away with a grip at his hair or bite to his jaw.

You were crying out in ecstasy now as he had both knees on the bed, holding your hips up as his throbbing cock pushed and pushed into your soft core, the heat growing overwhelming. Sweat shone on your brow and breast, Criston faring no better. You felt like a ragdoll, the white knight doing all the work, yet you pulled the strings.

You smiled in delirium, imagining him guiltily stripping his cock for days after this. Unable to look you in the eye ever again. Gods, gods, you needed this more. Criston moaned your name, his shaking hand peeling off your hip to swirl at the sensitive little nub at the apex of your thighs.

You cried out again, arousal surging into your veins, squirming and milking his cock. Criston’s hips stuttered as he whined something about forgiveness. Your chest felt full and fuzzy, content, idly wondering if he was always so emotional.

Soon, the stuffed feeling of your cunt, the nerves singing from his insistent rubbing of thumb had you on the edge, mewling in bliss. You whined, “Yes, so good Ser Criston, ’m gonna come, my white knight.”

He broke down again, falling forward and sobbing into your neck, the sound of his pain like a bolt of ecstasy. You clenched up around him, head thrown back as you moaned and huffed, lips curled up as the burn spread across your frame— cunt weeping and pulsing around him.

“Fuck yes! Yes!”

It wasn’t much long after you writhed and clawed at his throat, Criston pulled out, sniffling and sulky as he came with little whines, face dark with embarrassment and self-hatred. His cock spit onto your thigh and the bedding as he heaved. He sat on the bed, big mournful eyes on you, the evidence of his lust.

You easily rolled away, panting. With a stretch and final savor of the ache, you padded to the washroom to ring the bell for servants to draw a bath. Leaning against the frame, you watched the broken man, lost in his thoughts, silent tears down his flushed cheeks. You scoffed, “Fall to your needs again? Perhaps you’d be a better guard dog if they gelded you.”

You turned without a word more.

He was crying softly in the other room, once again broken down. You had nothing to say. Ser Criston deserved to remember what he was, a whore.

Cherishing your newfound feelings, your chest had begun to ache for more. You sighed, internally nursing those seeds, some had sprouted, you couldn’t let them grow much more. Only allowed for when the time came. Now was a tease, a glimpse of something much more powerful that would emerge when the realm erupted.

He left eventually, you sitting in a tub, eyes closed, humming softly as the servant brushed your bastard hair. Dripping with honey, filled with thorns and poison. Mayhaps you’d be too gone a day, but now? There was much more to life yet again.

[dabilove27]

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[elisedonut]

one Draco/Percy soulmate au concept I've had stuck in my head for a very long time is them meeting like super young

Like I'm talking no way to hide it because they're too young to realize that maybe they should

Like Draco barely remembers life before meeting his soulmate young

Point is Draco is not like as mean in this world because of having a good influence

Anyway all that preamble to say I'm thinking about Draco being kind of insufferable about his Soulmate being a prefect and then head boy

like anytime a professor tells the students to follow their prefects somewhere he is immediately at Percy's side instead of you know the actual Prefect he's meant to follow because "You're my prefect" type bs reasoning

and mixing that concept with the whole you can visit your soulmate in their house concept that i really like and you can pull alot of nonsense in those first three years

[f0linasahl0]

more things about the livestream experience before i go completely insane.

(warning: this is going to be a long one)

1: why is [bishop] lisden's favorite song mulberry street and why is [bishop] sacarver's favorite (if i remember) the outside or stressed out....i just want to throw that out there

2: i absolutely adore the piano spread whatever thing tyler does before he goes and raps to migrane. i dont know what its called but when he runs his hand across the piano, it was good. how did he make it sound so good and musical...

3: why is the shy away livestream version the only livestream version that is on their official "the story" playlist??? i keep thinking about that (https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3roRV3JHZzaU_kQ4-7uv-ahPbFabFmRW)

4: also thinking about how they cut off holding onto you before the outro. basically all there was of holding onto you was the "entertain my faith" part...thinking about the lore THERE. how a "good day dema" ad cut off the ending as well then they talk about how happy they are !! then how it goes to mulberry street after dan LISDEN says its his favorite then how it goes so blurry BEFORE THE AD??? ----"entertain my faith" sounds something like he..wants more from the religion but they cut him off from continuing the rest of holding onto you..like he got in trouble or something? i dont know man

5: "dema is bringing you this music collection that is vibrant with saturation"... "dema wants you to enjoy this collection"..."i just felt trapped before having this collection" ... "contentment"...."now that youve heard some of this collection you must be just like us, completely saturated"..."sometimes i close my eyes to try to escape...you know you cant escape sally...yes i know!" PROPAGANDA

6: why is he holding and grabbing his head so much. past the literal deadpan ass stare hes got through the majority if not all of the experience (like even while doing his little dances you'd think he'd be smiling during...), why does he grip his head so often-- i talked about this before but like what are they doing to him man he like grips his head in almost pain so much

7: also thinking about what the lore implications of jenna and debby being in this...because im pretty sure its shown jenna in levitate is a bandito i only assume debby was one too. why are they there?? were they caught too? or did dema make clones of them to use against josh and tyler?

8: "i cant wait to see you again"

9: ”in a world where this is as good as it gets…we miss you. we really do.”

10: also can we discuss the "CONTROLLED by" dma org and good day dema??? this photo is blurry as hell but CONTROLLED BY! not PRODUCTION OF! specific word choice..also dma org...dmaorg.info...why are clancy's letters posted on a website thats directly correlated with dema...letters from his time inside as well as time outside...can we like talk about that--like other than the obvious showcase that they have his letters and are using them to lie to the people, why are they going through dmaorg?? if clancy isnt directly with dema why are they--why are they going through there???

11: the whole cutscene before lane boy "there was a wonderful structure to the city that put my cares to rest and the responsibilities of the day seemed to be accomplished with minimal effort. once a task was taught and understood, our obligations timely, and it felt secure knowing tomorrows duties would be accomplished with the same efficiency. we all worked to represent our bishop with honor knew that each inhabitant of our region had a like-minded dedication to consistency....why do i kneel to these concepts? tempted by control, control by temptation. stay low, they say. stay low," then the direct contradiction of the redecorate rap he inserts, “with the bells and the whistles scaled back like an isolated track, and he feels trapped when he's not inebriated fair to say he's fairly sedated most days of the week. he might have made it if he lived on a different street. i repeat, scaled back and isolated he says he likes an open schedule but he mostly hates it if you're running to his room, take a breath before you break-in put your ear up to the door, tell me can you hear him saying?” using clancy's letters to show praise to dema then clancy (tyler) directly contradicting being like "no i hold zero praise for this city" and saying how hes isolated and sedated when hes not preforming--how he ALMOST made it out. how if he lived A LITTLE closer to the walls he wouldnt be there right now-

12: the way the old songs are "SCALED BACK AND ISOLATED" ???? A SCALED BACK AND ISOLATED TRACK????

13: the way ned is missing in chlorine when he was such a big part of chlorine

14: AGAIN this shy away version. one-why is it so important to the story, two-the 9 chairs for 9 bishops around the table, three-i fucking love the guitarist by josh i love his energy, four-THE WAY HE BREAKS A GLASS WHEN TALKING ABOUT BREAKING THE CYCLE IN HALF???, THE SCREAM !!!! so many things

[so many things you guys]

15: the fucking bishop ass dancers to stressed out....can we discuss that too. ALSO HOW THEY DRAG HIM TO THE NEXT STAGE FOR STRESSED OUT?

16: "but remember you should- *cut off*" YOU SHOULD WHAT SALLY SACARVER????

17: also firstly, how beautiful the ukulele part was...it was so gorgeous, also the transition was amazing. though past that, can we talk about how fucking sad he looked on that little boat with his uke? was that a mock to his escape attempts? to him singing to an empty sky in trench? singing to the banditos as they boat someplace safer? like...

18: THE MOCKING OF THE BANDITOS WITH THE FUCKING JUMPSUIT/HEAVYDIRTYSOULD PART?? why would dema do that? why would the bishops actively make josh and tyler look like the banditos if it wasn't just a mock? they dont like the banditos i thought why would they have them dressed up like that? like torchbearer bringing the torch to the stage and the look josh has on his face-then tyler also being in a bandito outfit. like--it has to be mocking his attempts. mocking the banditos or SOMETHING

19: heathens being in the livestream makes me think a little too but i dont know. "all my friends are heathens take it slow, wait for them to ask you who you know. please dont make any sudden moves you dont know half of the abuse."

20: also first, what was that alarm that was sounded before never take it? what happened there? second, the lore people have posted about never take it and how it was about the bishops? the way it was played while the alarm was going off and it was almost messier filming...

21: HIM ENDING THE LIVESTREAM WITH "nobody's coming for me" and his deadpan look (sobbing)

22: again, bringing up sally sacarver and dan lisden. sacarver and lisden being bishop's names and hosting this livestream. then showing directly how the bodies they are controlling are deteriorating as the show goes on. "The rules are that you can only seize or control a dead body, and only for a short while."

23: also just the heavydirtysoul part. starting to think about the: "I tricked Nico into taking me outside the walls. I created a fiery diversion. I escaped." i just keep thinking about that and:

24: "we've come for you, we've got people on the way, no chances, none at all" the way this is direct quotes from dan and sally, who are bishops, and it is also direct lyrics (or close to direct lyrics) from no chances. it just keeps cementing itself on everything ive already thought about

25: past just the livestream experience what is with josh and the bucket hat lol. i love it but like.-

26: "you ask me if its real, i see your shifting eyes, you dig in your heels, i dig my hole to die" also wondering why the "live from the outside" version is here rather than the original.-is it important

27: his little dances are my favorite thing-

28: CAR RADIO...car radio. thats it thats the point. just the car radio part is everything to me--its giving old car radio performances and im living for it. though also old car radio performances? did they put it together like that on purpose?

29: NEVER TAKE IT HAVING A BURNING CAR HOLY SHIT FIREY DIVERSION? LMAO just how close he is to the camera during this too...so many thoughts

30: "...you know you cant escape sally...yes i know!" IS THIS LIVESTREAM SHOWING CLANCY AND HOW HE DIDN'T ESCAPE EITHER?? SHOWING THAT HE HAS BEEN CAUGHT AND IF HE CANT ESCAPE, THE NOTORIOUS CLANCY, THEN YOU CANT EITHER???! SO MANY THOUGHT!!

[sorry for how long this is-]

DID THIS SHOW HOW MANY THOUGHTS I HAVE HERE. im going insane like i keep thinking about the lore implications of this goddamn livestream. i have more points (i will make a essay list whatever for it all so i don't go any crazier) but this is already a lot for one post. just wanted to like...throw this out there. i know some might be a stretch but please just hear me out. just hear me out :,)

[ctrl-lupin]

Yes, I would be very interested hearing your head canon (@tim-ribbert-56) (in response to this post)

I have decided for my personal entertainment that Clarisse de Cagliostro is related to Lupin III, and here's why.

-pulls out Arsène Lupin's Wikipedia page-

In the novel La Comtesse de Cagliostro, a young Arsène Lupin (at the time going by the name Raoul d'Andrésy) was courting Clarisse d'Etigues, a young lady of a well-to-do family, and trying to win her hand, despite her father's disapproval.

Throughout the course of the novel, Lupin meets and falls in love with Joséphine Balsamo, aka the Countess of Cagliostro, and abandons Clarisse in favour of her. To clarify, Joséphine is not actually countess of anything, she is (or claims to be) a descendant of Giuseppe Balsamo aka the Count of Cagliostro (who was also count of jack shit), a famous conman from the 18th century.

Shenanigans ensue, which I will not go into in details on, but oh my god I am insane about Raoul and Joséphine, I want to dissect them and study them under a microscope. It turns out Joséphine aka Cagliostro is evil as fuck, Raoul/Lupin realizes that and goes back to Clarisse (whom he had previously abandoned like an old sock, I fucking hate this guy), marries her, and a few years later has her kid.

Unfortunately Clarisse dies in childbirth, and Joséphine, who was still around and very very pissed at Lupin (and jealous as hell of Clarisse whom, may I mention, had never personally antagonized her in any way whatsoever, Joséphine is just fucking bonkers). Joséphine also kidnaps Lupin and Clarisse's son, Jean, and raises him as her own son. (I have not yet read the following novel The revenge of Cagliostro so I don't really know what Jean's deal is, I just know he's an antagonist).

The following is my headcanon, based on these events. In the universe of Lupin III, Joséphine Balsamo was actually countess of the small kingdom of Cagliostro (maybe Giuseppe was count, maybe he conned his way into becoming count, maybe he bought the land and built a fake kingdom with a fake history, who knows).

After the events of The revenge of Cagliostro, Jean settles down in the country of Cagliostro, gets married, has a child, and that child will later have a daughter of their own, who they name Clarisse, after their late grandmother. Clarisse de Cagliostro, of Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro fame, would thus be the great-grand-daughter of Arsène Lupin, making her Lupin III's cousin/niece/whatever you call this specific degree of separation.

I am choosing to make Clarisse de Cagliostro a great-granddaughter of Arsène Lupin, rather than a granddaughter, because Arsène Lupin was very young when the events I described unfolded: he is 20 years old when he meets Clarisse d'Etigues and the whole Cagliostro debacle happens, and 25 by the time Jean is born. I'm assuming he had Lupin II much later in his life. So Jean and Lupin II (half-brothers) would have a significant difference in age, and so Jean's hypothetical child (grandchild of Arsène Lupin, so of the same generation of Lupin III) would be much older than Lupin III. Clarisse de Cagliostro is younger than him, maybe around the same age if you stretch it, so she's have to be a great-grandchild.

Now I need to read The revenge of Cagliostro and study Arsène Lupin's wikipedia page in more detail to determine when exactly Lupin II was born and who his mother was. And also where Albert's family branched out, because the fact that he's called D'Andrésy should theoretically place him as a descendant of Arsène Lupin's mother but not of Arsène Lupin himself; but Jean was also going by that last name, so who fucking knows.

No I am not insane I promise, I am just a gigantic nerd.

[averlym]

a word to the wise sometimes the only true rest is looking beyond what you thought was success

so true! adamandi is full of wise advice such as this, including: "and you'll never feel better if you - fucking die- you stupid ass!"

[rouge-the-bat]

the adhd-fueled desperation to create for hyperfixation vs my adhd struggle to do anything or even decide between the million ideas i have is my own personal hell. im dying squirtle

[absolutelyzoned]

thinking. and holy FUCK im a total loser

[callixton]

sorry why did i say some of that stuff to him in that letter. i mean i know why i was practicing this thing called vulnerability. but oh my god i really said that out loud (wrote it down)

[t1erradelfuego]

web weaving or whatever

[waheedawolf]

.

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

.

[lovegasmic]

CAUGHT CHEATING ?

your boyfriend found you texting your ex after a fight, does that even count as cheating ?!

( request )  ──── Toji, Sukuna, Satoru, Suguru x f!reader. mdni. curseless au , possessive behavior but you talk / fight back , they don't know each other . didnt add Kento or Choso bc they would just sit down and talk....... or drop your ass.

★ join the taglist.

TOJI ! : rough forced oral but you actually like it

for the nth time you roll your eyes, almost now aching from how many times your boyfriend has forced you to, “i told you i am not cheating” the tap of your foot is rhythmical and a constant presence in the room filled with thick anger, “and give me my damn phone”

“not happening, doll, you’re such a little liar” Toji mutters with a thick voice, a hand snaking to cup your cheeks and squish them together roughly, the other maintaining your phone up high so he could continue to check the messages with your ex. he’s mad and you know it, that usual smirk now replaced by a scowl and arm veins popping.

a slight twitch is visible on his brow, hands tightening around your mouth so you pout deepens, Toji loves how you look right now, grumpy and with a stupidly cute pout he wants to kiss, but your pretty face won’t make him forget about all your bullshit.

“get on your knees” is what he barks instead, thumb scrolling through your phone with a slight grind of his teeth, “didn’t you hear me?”

“m’ not goin’ t— hmph!”

your knees roughly hit the floor with a thud, from where Toji pushed on your shoulders and is currently tossing your phone on your feet, you’re able to see the tenting erection on his boxers, “why are you ha—”

“suck it”

“huh?! you’re fuckin’ insane if you think i’m—” sickling sweet, his hand cups your jaw, rummaging under the fabric of his boxers to fetch his cock and slide the tip past your lips, “ungh, fucker”

cheeks hollowed by the way you suck on your boyfriend’s cockhead, you were so mad, he was so mad, but the way your pussy throbbed was very much present, deciding to simply ignore your brain and focus on your needs.

“you love this cock too much to cheat on me” Toji smirks from above, barely watching his face from the way he tilted back and huge chest was in the way, fuck, another wave of slick down your cunt.

yet you try to fight back, groaning and purposely tapping the underside of the tip with your tongue, a touch you knew drove him insane, “oh you little...” he breathes, teeth clenched one more time while sliding your hair back off your eyes, “you want to play like that, doll? you got it”

there will most likely be bruises on Toji’s thighs from how hard you dig your nails on them, throat bulging and eyes swelling with tears from each harsh thrust of his length deep into your mouth, keeping you steady with both hands on the back of your head, using you like a damn fleshlight. and of course, when you think he’s calmed a little, your phone has to light up with a new text from your so undesired ex.

SUKUNA ! : choking, degradation, messy making out.

Sukuna mostly liked to fuck face to face, enjoying the lewd expressions you made with each rub of his cock into your soft walls, and when he fucked on doggy, you knew he was pissed.

“who knew my girlfriend was such a slut” his voice echoes through the walls, a deep rumbling groan getting replaced by the sound of your soft ass repeatedly smacked against his pelvis.

“’Kuna... what are you, u-ngh, saying....?”

what you thought was a make up sex, was a punishment instead.

his hand is quick to reach forward and squeeze your neck, pulling you back flush against his broad and sweaty back, “who the fuck is Satoru?” he did not need the answer, already aware of your ex’s name.

the way your eyes widened slightly was enough answer either way.

“do you enjoy texting your ex about how much of an asshole I am?” and you’re fucked. part of you extremely mad at your boyfriend scrolling through your phone, but well, you were in disadvantage currently.

“you are” his hand on your neck tightens, reducing your air flow but simultaneously making you clench around his tip.

“you’re not a saint, sweetheart”

you never said that, and force yourself to not roll your eyes, “quite the opposite, you’re a needy, horny girl, not getting enough with my cock, and now you need another? tsk, what a whore”

“u-ugh” you cough, “that’s... not true!”

“be quiet” Sukuna gruffs, tugging your head back tighter to lean closer, “and stick out your tongue” somehow that lewd command made you obey, staring at him with challenge, your eyes not fathering although he still had the upper hand.

“cheeky thing” is what he says, taking the tip of your tongue with his, messily having a tongue kiss without your lips actually touching, creating a lewd and loud sound in the room that made you dizzy, “you’ll delete his number, okay, baby?” he murmurs, a threat, “or, I will not take responsibility for what may happen” why was that hot?

you wish there was a way for you to groan or yell at him, only for your body to betray you and make your pussy gush around the cock still buried inside you.

“good girl”

SATORU ! : oral fixation, creampies, overstim.

“you won’t do that again, right, baby?” your boyfriend is so sweet and soft, tenderly rubbing two of his fingers against your tongue.

“S’tru wh’t the fuck” your words are choked, muffled by his long digits exploring every inch of your mouth.

“wrong answer” fingers stop but his free one pinches your clit hard.

“hngh!”

a hum escapes his reddish lips, getting comfortable in his current position between your legs and pussy soaking, beautifully warming his cock, “try again, baby, you just need to say you won’t cheat on me again”

“didn’t cheat” again, another muffled groan.

this time you get cut by a gag from Satoru’s fingers resuming their rubbing on your tongue, uncomfortably deep, “that’s not what I saw, babe, you betrayed my trust” his words are slightly thicker with bubbling up emotions.

“you’re exa— ugh, —ggerating”

suddenly, his eyes darken, gripping onto any edge of sanity as not to snap at the mere thought of you reducing his feelings and worries, opting instead for a more appropriate approach.

“Satoru! a-angh, no, no more!” your muffled sounds now, a few minutes later, turned into desperate pleas and cries of overstimulation, the sheets below sticky and damp with mixed fluids.

“not until, —uh fuck, you understand” completely feral is what he is, fucking you into the sheets, with load after load seeping past your stretched cunt, coating all over his length and dripping down his balls and the sheets, where the fabric sticks to your sweaty lower back utterly uncomfortably.

and considering the way your boyfriend’s cock somehow springs back to life after thick loads of semen splurted into you, you know you’re stuck for a long time.

SUGURU ! : groping , taking pictures of you mid fuck.

“this, is mine” Suguru’ voice is gruff, even more than usual, completely and utterly jealous. although your boyfriend was usually rough, his long fingers squeezing your tit and pinching your nipple in the process was much meaner than usual.

“this, is also mine” he murmurs now, sickly cooing, as if taunting and playing with you. pushing his whole body weight against your backside to forcefully make the vanity edge dig on your soft hips from where you’re bent, eyes on the mirror and Suguru’s free hand tight on your jaw.

“you’re much prettier when you’re quiet and obedient” his lips trail down your jawline, and by the way his tight grip held you steady, it’s not as if you could actually speak, “not when you’re texting your exes with stupid names... what was it again?”

“Ch-choso...” you manage to mumble through squished cheeks.

he huffs, “what a ridiculous name, love, did your pretty head forget you’re mine?” for anyone who just met Suguru, they wouldn’t have sensed the menacing tone in his voice, hidden so perfectly under fake sweet words.

“t’was not”

“hm, what was it?” Suguru’s smile widens slightly scarily, letting go off your cheeks.

you huff, rubbing the slightly sore skin, “i was not doing anything bad, it was just a dumb text” and oh, the attitude does not sit well with Suguru.

“just a text, right, of course” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing, and you gulp, “then, you wouldn’t mind me texting them too, right?” blood runs cold through your body, unsure and definitely terrified of what he would do, grabbing your phone and unlocking it while his free hand shoves under the crotch of your panties and tug it aside.

“Suguru, what are you—” words cut in a choked moan, having your boyfriend’s cock slowly pushing into your soaked cunt, eyes wide as well as your mouth.

“that’s just the expression I was looking for, baby” Suguru chuckles, knowing your body so well to the point that every hit slammed your g-spot, having you almost blissed, almost too dumb to realize the frontal camera of your phone capturing the lewd sight of your expression, “smile” he mocks again, a click, and the picture was delivered to your ex.

[street-smarts00]

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

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