#l: cross dressing
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offbeat-manga-ships · 3 months ago
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KANOJO NI NARITAI KIMI TO BOKU (カノジョになりたい君と僕)
The Woman You Are and Me; I Wanna Be Your Girl / Takase Umi
Complete, with 50 chapters / 4 volumes
F/M; Seinen, Drama + queer & ambqueer, queer character, cross dressing, genderbender, gb: ftm, masc f, gb stops, masc f stops
SUMMARY: Hime Sakuragaike has secretly been in love with her childhood friend Akira Yonezawa since they were kids, but Hime only recently found out that Akira identifies as female. Although surprised, Hime offers her full support, and this is initially kept a ​secret between them for a few years, but Akira decides to start living as a girl full-time upon starting high school with Hime. However, since Akira garners a certain amount of attention, Hime takes it upon herself to aggressively stick up for Akira whenever necessary. Not wanting Akira to be singled out as an object of ridicule, Hime decides that her only option is to put herself in Akira's shoes.
MAL score: 7.50 AL mean score: 74% MU average: 7.2
PERSONAL SCORE: 5 out of 10
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makingyourfavindti · 2 months ago
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can u do mac from lmk ?? Take ur time lolz
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i made mac/macaque from lego monkie kid in dress to impress
thanks for the request!
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tristansfreezingtheirbrain · 4 months ago
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So you know how like- when you tell someone to watch a show with you but just conveniently leave out that it’s a tragedy? Right well, I did it again. You can guess the show ( notice how I didn’t say podcast? Yes it’s Merlin again. ).
Anyways my freind just finished it and is very upset with me because the way I described the show made it feel like a funny hahha romantic comedy and it obviously wasn’t. Not canonically anyway.
But once she was over that- she was much more mad that she only really saw merlin wear a dress in one or two episodes over 5 seasons. ( I may or may not have told her our good friend Merlin was an cross dresser. Which technically wasn’t a lie. )
But then she remembered oh yeah, the plot. And the ending. The heartbreak I didn’t warn her for.
So she’s not as mad about it now.
She’s still mad about the other stuff tho
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libby-59 · 2 months ago
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Red wrap dress
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thepunkranger · 7 months ago
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Carlos Oliveira K!nk Headcanons
(Obviously 18+ only. Written by an active member of the k!nk community. Character is written bisexual w/ gender neutral reader. TW for brief, ambiguous mention of character’s negative past experiences)
Carlos is a switch with a sub lean. He didn’t get to explore his submissive side until his late teens-early 20s, but once he did he fell for it hard. Boy had a full-on sub frenzy phase. He’s definitely gone cruising more than a couple of times, and unfortunately did not have a great starting point for ethical BDSM, though he came out of it mostly unscathed and with some very strong opinions about his personal aftercare needs.
As a sub, Carlos is first and foremost a service sub. Whatever his partner wants or needs, that’s what he’s doing. In full subspace it’s basically his life’s goal. He’ll wait on them hand and foot and love every minute of it. He surprised himself by having a crossdressing kink. He doesn’t like sissification, and definitely isn’t about to shave his body or be caged 24/7, but women’s clothing? It’s a rush, to put it simply. Maid dresses with cat ears, long flowy skirts, and silky panties are some of his personal favorites. He also fucking loves bottoming. Please plow this man. Dick, strap-on, fingers, he doesn’t care. Loves the experience of being fucked in every goddamn position. He will, however, be a fucking brat to get himself punished and/or fucked harder. Steals your shit and puts it on a high shelf where you can’t reach, sticks out his tongue during meaningless arguments, and loves to very literally push your buttons with tickling and doing dumb shit like pretending to steal your nose or poking you in the stomach.
Carlos is both a puppy sub, and little, though the two don’t crossover much. As a pup Carlos is very much a guard dog type. Sticks close to his handler and likes to make sure they’re taken care of before he gets up to any puppy shenanigans, throws his weight around at moshes, and likes to generally just be on and around his handler at all times. He’s a good boy as a dog though, and will go out of his way to follow any commands he’s given. Likes eating out of his dog bowl on the floor and wearing his leather full-body harness. Has a thick-ass tail plug (think the MSL Woofy tails) for play at home and a faux fur show tail for moshes, along with a strappy leather hood and a spiked collar with a bone-shaped tag. Likes being called “dog” and “doggy” more than “puppy.”
Carlos is a fucking handful as a little. Big, loud, bratty little boy energy 100%. Loves making a mess of both himself and the space around him, and absolutely will not sit still long enough for you to wrestle him into the bath. Make sure to give him a booster for his diaper, because you’ll have to catch him if you want to give him a change, and he can run fast. Good news is, when he finally runs out of steam he’s the sweetest little boy ever. Curls up in his Caregiver’s lap and just wants to snuggle forever while getting read to or sung lullabies. Has a comfort stuffie that he clings to for dear life and takes everywhere with him, and you’d best believe he’s making you treat it like a living person with kisses goodnight and a place setting at the table.
Carlos pretty much lives for verbal aftercare. Got used as a fuck toy by too many bad doms early on and now gets bad sub drop if he isn’t well taken care of in the aftermath. Make sure you tell him you aren’t mad about his bratting (or have a constructive conversation about it after he’s out of headspace) and love him as a person and not just a plaything. Warm drinks are great, especially warm milk or hot chocolate (make sure to add cinnamon for best results), and lots of cuddles in your arms with his comfort stuffie.
As a dom, Carlos is a Daddy Dom through and through. It’s doesn’t have to specifically be in the context of ageplay, but damn if that man doesn’t love spoiling his sub. The kind of Daddy to fall for puppy dog eyes and a “pleeeeeaaasse?” every goddamn time. Yes he’ll buy you the plushie, yes you can have an extra cookie, yes you can watch one more episode of Bluey, he’s a pushover for his baby. Speaking of Bluey, Carlos gets big Bandit Heeler energy when in Dom mode. Literal playing with his sub is almost always gonna be a little rough, because this man grew up with six brothers, what do you expect? He’s big and strong enough for picking you up and tossing you in the air, or holding you down for tickles until you can’t breathe, but will also use his powers for good and carry his baby around the house, or even when you get tired out and about.
He’ll happily go rough during sex - manhandle his sub, spout dirty talk that would make a booktoker blush, and leave you with bruises that last for days. Speaking of bruises, Carlos loves getting to see his handiwork on his sub’s body. Prefers using his hand for impact just to see the prints he leaves behind. He goes hard on impact too - anywhere that can safely be hit and isn’t a limit is getting smacked until a yellow is called. Especially loves the jiggly places like his sub’s ass and thighs and/or tits. Grabs them hard just to see the skin press out around his fingers. He also isn’t afraid to use toys to his advantage. Vibrators, dildos, clamps, sleeves, spreader bars, he’ll use them all just to try and see how squirmy and whiny he can make his sub. As soon as you’re done he’s right back into soft and doting mode though, carrying his baby to a hot bath or shower, showering you with kisses and making sure to give you a massage with arnica to take care of any places he went too rough. He’ll cuddle for hours and just talk and decompress for as long as you need. He’ll also take care of anything that comes up afterwards as well like walking the dog or getting dinner.
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talyayet474 · 9 months ago
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Jennifer Lawrence
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sysig · 2 months ago
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Promises promises (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Max Vyer#Dexter Favin#The kisses yearning......it has returned.........#They're just so cute I can't help it hweh#Kisses on the cheek are harder to refute than on the mouth haha - just for a second! Just to be close! Just to show how much ♥#He wanted to fight about it but it's not like there's anything he can say that he Also doesn't want#Forever <3 Promise#And then they can't fulfill that promise wehh#More kisses ♪ Ostensibly for practice because I can always use the practice - I just like them together!!#I love when Max is just plastered against him and Dex holds him so carefully haha - he /is/ stronger than Max but still#Max sticks to him so much#Dresses! Probably drag/cross dressing but mm?#On top of ZEX wearing a dress that one time(?) presumably because gendered human fashion doesn't cross the translation barrier#I've been thinking about the Helix duo as ladies off and on too hmm#I keep going back and forth on Ladyverse!Helix like - with the Vargases it's easy? How their designs are different and The Implications™#So much to think about - and it's not like L!Helix lacks that by any means! But everyone's already so pretty so there's that lol#Max is androgynous and Dexter is beautiful like they'd just look like themselves lol#Presumably there'd be Some physical differences but I really wonder by how much! And how they'd be expected to act or grow into#For now it's just appreciating the pretties <3 Because they are they're so pretty! However they are they're beautiful <3#Dex's dress is fun hehe ♪ He Could wear it covering his leg but a brief pose that lets it peek out isn't so bad hehehe#Max is very much giving Junior Prom haha <3 He's too cute#Honestly I just really really needed to see him in that front/collar/spaghetti straps style it's so cute and I feel like it suits him#I'm not sure what it is exactly but the fabric falling forward on his chest is just - correct?? It Feels Correct#And last one of an idea I haven't been able to shake since starting on plush Max as a project haha#I Want to give him a whole closet of clothes but I also don't want him to be naked for long! And what's the easiest type of clothing to make#Imagining him in a pretty white or light yellow sundress.......swishing and twirling and being cute and happy........ahhh...........#He deserves to feel the prettiest and sparkliest and specialest because he is ♥
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g0blin-artz · 7 months ago
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So this was supposed to be L in goth attire, but I realize it didn’t end up looking a whole lot like him, so just use your imagination 😭
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leifandthorn · 23 days ago
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Redraw of this wedding fashion showcase from 2016! Now with softer colors, and brush-drawn embroidery/flowers, instead of just whatever I could ink by hand.
Ceannic couples tend to dress in whites and pastels, although the darker knightly dress uniform is common if you're pledged to an order. The flower crown is a must, for all genders and presentations -- it's a general symbol of goodness and prosperity. Expect a lot of other flowers too, as a point of national pride. Sønska couples wear a lot more black, because the last thing you want in your wedding photos is to blend in with the snow. Plus lots of red (because it's lucky), and as much gorgeous detailed embroidery as you can afford. The jeweled silver circlets tend to be family heirlooms.
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feliichu · 1 year ago
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hi um. do u have a girl junpei?
YES I DO AND WE LOVE HER!
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offbeat-manga-ships · 3 months ago
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KAWAII HITO (かわいいひと)
A Cute Guy / TATSUBON
Complete, with 36 chapters / 1 volume
F/M; Romance, Comedy + fem m, sub m, dom f, role rev, genderbender, gb: mtf, cross dressing, taller f x shorter m, queer & ambqueer, ambiguously genderqueer
SUMMARY: Kenzaki, a female yankee, has a crush on Nakajima, a boy who gets constantly teased in class. One day, she saves him from his bullies, bringing the two to become closer with one another.
Shortly after, Kenzaki notices a girl who looks a lot like Nakajima. However, it turns out that it is indeed Nakajima crossdressing!
MAL score: 6.62 AL mean score: 67% MU average: 6.7
PERSONAL SCORE: 8* out of 10
*currently unfinished; score might change
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makingyourfavindti · 2 months ago
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galar articuno???
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i made galarian articuno from pokemon in dress to impress
thanks for the request!
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libby-59 · 7 months ago
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Blondy again
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atlantus · 6 months ago
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i wish i had a good voice bc when I sing along to songs I do dumb little dances and I feel like i could be an excellent front man
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hypothetical-menace · 7 months ago
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Gonna be so real chat I actually really like working I just hate all the stupid bullshit that goes along with it.
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luveline · 1 month ago
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𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]
c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
Spencer wakes to an empty room. 
He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.
He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 
Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 
Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 
A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.
Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 
He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 
You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 
Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 
“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.
He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.
“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 
You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?
“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 
“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 
“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”
“I…” 
“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 
“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 
He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?
“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 
Your fingers slip into his with ease. 
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 
“Of course you can.” 
He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 
“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 
You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 
“What happened to you?” he asks. 
Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 
“What…” 
“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 
“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.
“Spencer?” 
Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 
His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 
“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 
“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 
“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 
“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 
Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 
“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 
You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 
“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 
“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 
Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 
“But I do eventually?” 
“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 
You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 
“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 
“Sort of,” Spencer says. 
It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 
“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 
Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 
You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”
“Not you?” he asks. 
You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 
When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 
You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 
“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 
“Uh.” 
“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 
“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 
He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 
“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”
Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 
“You dog,” Derek says. 
“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 
“I do know you,” Spencer says. 
“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 
Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 
“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 
Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 
“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 
“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 
“Every week?” he asks.
“Yeah.” 
“We’re never apart?” he asks. 
His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 
“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 
Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 
Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 
“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 
“We do?” 
“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 
“We did?”
You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 
“How do you love?” 
His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 
“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 
“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 
He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 
“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”
It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 
“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 
“Anything.” 
He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 
“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 
“Who wouldn’t like you?” 
“But did you?” 
He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 
“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 
You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 
“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 
“What do you think?” 
“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 
You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”
He gives a choky laugh. 
The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 
Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 
“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 
“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”
Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 
Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”
“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 
“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 
“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 
“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 
Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.
It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 
You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 
Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.
Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 
He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 
Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 
“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”
You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 
You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 
“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 
You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 
He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 
You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 
He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 
You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 
He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”
“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
thanks for reading!
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