#‘sorry for running off when you infodump about things you care about’

[turtleblogatlast]

Imagine the boys getting cursed to bear witness to “some of the most negatively impactful things in their lives” and they’re terrified, thinking it’ll be stuff like the invasion or Shredder or something-

Only to be met with multiple scenarios of their family. Saying offhand, but hurtful things. Doing hurtful things. Lots of scenarios that were inconsequential to everyone but the one most affected.

And they’re all scrambling, desperate to make sure the others don’t look too deep into it haha it doesn’t really bother them- but they all know the truth. Because they’re all in the same position here. It wasn’t on purpose, and they all know it wasn’t on purpose, but it still hurts.

It’s almost a relief, that they’re going through it all together. That they can apologize for mistakes, and accept that they’ve held onto hurt too long when they could have dealt with it sooner.

And that’s how they break the curse, reversing it into something different, as they’re told that before it leaves them for good they’ll bear witness to the most positively impactful things in their lives. And now they think they’ll see some of their best victories, some of their grandest adventures-

The scenes they see then are of the same cloth as their negative ones. Simple scenes, ones that most wouldn’t remember. Times where someone managed to make someone else smile, times where they were just so content to exist by the other’s side, times where they were just happy being there with their brothers, their family.

It’s the little things that go the farthest, because that’s what you experience the most in life. And they’ll mess up again, of course. Things happen, and they’ll never really know how their actions and words will be taken. But through the good and the bad, they’re family.

Besides - turns out, there’s a lot more good.

[tw1nkee28]

No one asked for this, but I really needed to infodump about him to someone or I was gonna go insane.

˙⋆✮ Info about my CoD oc, 'Dawn'! ✮⋆˙

⚠️Warning!⚠️ There will be a lot of words and one image containing (mild) nudity below the cut. (A shirtless man, in case you are uncomfortable with such)

The first image is a reference for the finer details of his character such as his hairstyle, his facial details like his nose and eyes, and his major scars.

The second image is more of how I envisioned his body type, but I struggle with consistency and being able to convey some bodies in different angles and intricate poses.

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These are just some drawings I've made of his character as I was developing him.

While he is a rather calm individual, being stoic and silent most of the time, he does still get rather angry on the inside. Which is what I was trying to convey in the first image.

He respects his peers and superiors, but when they do legitimately stupid shit, he can and will rock their shit depending on how bad it was.

I've included this in his lore before but I am too nervous to share some of the finer details of his lore and will only be vaguely referencing it, sorry ☹️🫶

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I made a janky, very brief timeline of his career above.

Now, I haven't filed through complete details so some things such as his rank and experience in the field may or may not be entirely accurate with the time he was working especially since I made his character on the fly and did little to no research at first. Only now am I actually trying to expand his character and lore and am realizing I did not do nearly enough research. Most of this is just what I thought sounded nice at first.

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More in-detail information below ↓

Name: Julius Harper Aliases: Dawn, 7-28

Nationality: Filipino Ethnicity: Eastern Asian

Age: 32 DoB: June 19, 1992

Pronouns: He/Him Gender: Cis Man Sex: M

Sexuality: Unlabeled, prefers men

Height: 6'2

Languages: Tagalog, English, FSL (Filipino sign language, for Dusk)

Which CoD universe: Modern Warfare (ii)

Branches of Service: Marine Corps

Affiliation: Shadow Company

Specialities: hand to hand, a variety of front line infantry skills, long range, basic first aid

Personality: usually grumpy and quiet. switches between sassy, rude, and teasing(towards close people) and quiet, obedient, and stoic. He's technically a strong and silent type around most people, usually very distrusting and distant. He's very good at following orders unless they're outright stupid, then he'll put up a fight about them.

Backstory: (my attempt at being brief, sorry🙏) given to an (underground) training organization with unconventional training methods at a young age, was tortured and ridiculed for disobeying (his scars on his face and chest🫶), escaped with force when he was 17(nearly 18). Had to travel by himself to the US and rely on strangers to get him there (no money in his name).

Eventually joined the Marines at 20, met Dusk (his Colonel). Blah blah blah, went up the ranks. At 28 he dragged Dusk out of the field half exploded and left the Marines soon after Dusk did. Joined Shadow Company 🫶

Issues: PTSD, nightmares, paranoia, nervous at being touched randomly

Habits: never takes off his mask unless he's REALLY comfortable, sleeps with it on more often than not. Hovers close to people he likes cause he doesn't like to reach out and touch people, settling on subtle hands on shoulders or light brushes of skin. Watches and evaluates anyone and everyone in the same room as him, constantly searching for any red flags or threats.

Scars: One over each eye (resembling clown markings)

One running over his bottom lip and down his chin.

One running from his collar bone to below his navel.

A mix of bullet, knife, and other scars from his field work scattered over his arms and hands.

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language: acts of service, quality time, ("secretly") physical touch.

Preferred way of receiving care/affection: words of affirmation, physical touch

Eye Color: left eye pale yellow with brown center, right eye green with yellow center. has heterochromia

Hair description: short and dusty brown with two streaks of early greying. Two long pieces in front of either ear, short in the back.

Clothing description: SC Uniform - beige tactical vest stocked with red and yellow(ish) glow sticks(?, I forgot the actual name for it), roll of thin rope, and three mags. Black, long-sleeve zip-neck shirt with the shadow company insignia on the sleeve. Black balaclava, black helmet and goggles with attachable headphones connected to comms. Black tactical cargo pants, black belt with two storage pouches attached at either side of his hips, and a right handed gun holster. Very dark brown/black combat boots.

Not in uniform - form fitting short-sleeve shirts and jeans most of the time. Occasionally switching it up for loose shirts when his compression shirts feel too tight and strangling for a casual day. He wears belts to at least make it seem like he cares about his outfits, even though he doesn't really put effort. Picking up whatever dark colored shirts and jeans he can find and calling it a day most of the time.

Body description: well-built Filipino man with hooded eyes. He has a bit of stubble along his jaw, forgetting to shave often. Freckles are speckled over his face, arms, neck and shoulders, and legs. Body hair over his chest, arms, and legs mainly. Occasionally lets other Shadows paint his nails when they ask (requests black but can't say no if they choose another) so sometimes has painted nails.

Favorite activities: sitting outside with nature, playing guitar, going to the bar with Dusk to spend time and catch up, reteaching Dusk guitar

Blood type: O

Favorite animal(s): Cats, snakes, birds in general

Favorite food/dessert: Pork Adobo, Graves' cooking (it's his guilty pleasure at cookouts, you can't convince me that Graves doesn't sit at a grill making food for his Shadows for a cookout on an off day)

• born in Marawi City; Mindanao, Philippines

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He's generally like a big dog that doesn't realize it's own size, like a great Dane of sorts. Protective, loyal to a fault with aggressive tendencies towards those he doesn't know/trust. Silent and strong, unless he's with someone close to him (very few people in his original universe, maybe two people at most. Though I do headcanon him to be relatively close with the Shadows and Graves in my shadow company AU, being more welcoming with touch and close proximity but still acting grumpy like he doesn't want it, despite enjoying every brush or touch of skin to his.)

He enjoys his quiet time and regular meets up with an old friend of his, back from his Marine days, the both of them learning electric guitar and playing together sometimes to loosen up.

He's a workaholic all in all, not having many hobbies or activities out side of his work.

He lives at base, having been out on the streets before starting his career in the military.

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He earned his scars on his face and chest when he was about 16-17, fleeing his state as soon as he was nearing 18 (lore reasons that I'm too nervous to share with people) and living on the streets with a lengthy theft history until he joined the Marines at 20 years old. Where he met his previously mentioned 'old friend', his Colonel, call sign 'Dusk'.

His shadow company number is 7-28. No I did not do research on the actual numbers, I just chose random ones that sounded nice on my tongue. Plus 28 is like,,, my number, if you couldn't tell by my user.

If anyone understands the number system better and would like to help me out by correcting me, I would appreciate that very much. But for now, it is Shadow 7-28.

His lore and titles were developed before I put him in Shadow Company canonically, so shit like him being a Lieutenant and other things that would require him to have years and years of experience to get would be from his career in the Marines before then. I'm assuming he would have to start fresh since he joined a new company? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believeeee he'd have to start fresh with SC with things like titles.

He does still keep his old mask since Dusk helped him with it, but now he really only wears the shadow company uniform and gear. Swapping his plain black balaclava for his old one with the skull-like details when he's back at base relaxing.

Smaller details about him!! ↓

Favorite color - Green !!

Favorite activities - sitting outside with nature, playing guitar, going to the bar with his found-family Brother (Dusk) to spend time and catch up

Favorite animal - cats ! Specifically black cats (he feels they're misunderstood)

• HATES ships and deep water

• used to (attempt to) pick up stray cats he found on the streets and try to bring them home as a kid.

• doesn't like training new recruits but is always put in charge of training them because of his leadership skills. (This happened to me in band a long while back, apparently my teacher thought I was a 'silent leader' and was really good at leading others subconsciously even if I hated being a leader??? That's him, that's Dawn. Silent leader)

• has nightmares frequently

• will deny liking someone, going as far as saying he hates them even if as soon as they leave the room he smiles on the inside because, hey! Someone wants to be close to him! That's new!

• tried drawing once, it looked like a kids drawing. he never picked up a pencil to draw again

• has really nice handwriting?? Wtf???

• He's a lieutenant!!

• spent years training to be a sniper that he's now unnecessarily still and silent while working on smaller tasks that require even the slightest bit of focus such as paperwork.

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Info about 'Dusk' since he's a big part of their lore ↓

These are all the drawings I've done of him so far ↑

While I haven't gone deep into lore for him, I do have a few small facts about him that have played a part in Dawn's lore.

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• He is 6'3, standing only an inch taller than Dawn.

• he was Dawn's Colonel for most of their career before they joined Shadow Company.

• just before Dawn had left to join SC, Dusk had gotten caught too close to an explosion. Having been dragged back to the base by Dawn himself and after healing, was left with very little sight and hearing on his left side. He struggled to be able to do many tasks that he needed to be able to complete to keep his job afterwards and had to quit.

• he cut off his long hair after the explosion burned off a lot of his hair, being left with very little long hair left on his right side. He felt it looked odd and cut it off so it could regrow at its own pace. Some parts of his scalp on his left side having damaged the actual skin there making it very hard/impossible to regrow it in some patches.

• he started learning guitar before joining the military, having been the one who inspired Dawn to learn and having lent Dawn their first ever guitar.

• was the one who gave Dawn his callsign

• he's Filipino, one of the many traits he and Dawn bonded over

• acts as Dawn's older brother later on in their career together after years of knowing each other. He has two siblings at home while Dawn is an only child

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Fun fact! He was slightly based off of my older brother, named Dusk :)

While some parts of his character were based off of him, the name was surprisingly not, it just happened to match up with Dawn while I was making them 🫶

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If you couldn't tell, Dawn is my baby and my favorite OC. I love him very much and will probably expand on his lore and such at some point, but for now, this is what we have.

Thank you if you read all of this ❤️

[roguetelepaths]

byron + 1, 2, 5, 24,

Oh fuck yeah I was hoping someone would do this. This is going to be a massive wall of text and I'm sorry but also I'm really not. You have unleashed the infodump dragon and it's not leaving until it's run off some of its zoomies.

Why do you like or dislike this character?

You know a fun fact about me is that I was on Team Byron Disliker when I first started Season 5 just due to what I'd heard through pop culture osmosis. I even made a post to that effect after watching a couple of his episodes (deleted now because I was sick of seeing it in my notes) that got some circulation in the fandom. But the further I got into that arc and the more I thought about him, the less I saw what I expected to see when I started. Instead I saw someone who, though flawed, spent most of the time he was on screen trying to be gentle and compassionate and trying to protect his people in a situation that was hell bent on making it as hard as possible for him to do those things.

I do think he has a manipulative streak, and I do think he's the type to occasionally do very hurtful things because he believes he's doing so for the right reasons (see for example that fucking "doesn't it feel nice to be asked" scene between him and Lyta in The Paragon of Animals, even as a Lyta/Byron shipper that makes me SO ANGRY because that point could be made in LITERALLY any other way that didn't involve demeaning her and shouting at her, I get that you're pissed off at the people who did that to her but taking it out on her isn't gonna help anyone so stop) but those flaws when combined with his genuine good intentions and abundance of care are fascinating.

A big part of why I think people dislike him as a character is because those flaws are presented as an immutable Fact Of Who He Is, which, yeah, I can see why someone would find that insufferable, but I like writing character growth and he deserves some.

Tl;dr, I like him because he's complicated. I dislike the way canon never seemed to want to grapple with those complications.

Favorite canon thing about this character?

That scene with the one guy in Downbelow. You know the one. Letting someone punch you repeatedly because you want to teach them a lesson about how finding a target to beat up on isn't actually going to solve their problems is... genuinely fucking baller and I wish we'd gotten to see more of that side of him.

Also that thing with Lyta in Strange Relations that's basically a mutual "I'm not overextending myself YOU'RE overextending yourself! Please slow down and rest 🥺" is probably what made me ship them as hard as I do. Dipping out of canon and into my fic for a second, but that interaction is so different from their first interaction that I kind of have to wonder if someone talked to him about the way he treated her. (I may have written a missing scene about that but it needs some fine tuning before I feel good about posting it.)

What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

oh my god!!! so many. SO MANY. But uhhhh I can narrow it down to like four?

Runaway by The National as a general theme song

I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier as a soft and sad song for him and Lyta

The Deserter's Song by Radical Face as a backstory reveal song

New World Coming (any version but I like the one by Nina Simone best because. Come on. It's Nina fucking Simone how can you top that) because I'm almost certain it was one of the songs JMS pulled from when he was writing That Song For That Scene.

What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

I've been saying this from the very beginning— The Signless from Homestuck. (Yes, I'm a Homestuck enjoyer. Sorry.) I just love my pacifist resistance leaders with feral partners and tragic endings okay.

[itsdappleagain]

WOOHOO! Let's kick off #csweekly!

I think I'll dump all of my thoughts onto one post as we go along...and I have a lot of thoughts so sorry this is gonna be LONG

Firstly, before I start the episode, AAA I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!! I haven't actually truly rewatched CS in sooo long

Okay, let's go. Why don't we ever talk about the intros? Like the grabbing of the hat and then later that as part of the black and white/red intro sequence? MWAH.

Chase's headlights illuminate spots on the screen when they turn towards the "camera!"

I love this introduction to the entire show. It really makes us feel like we're part of this mystery, investigating this thief with Chase and Julia (until...well...everything gets directly told to us via flashbacks 8 minutes in..). It tells us everything we basically need to know about how Carmen operates in like 30 seconds.

Let's take a moment to appreciate the art style of this show....oh my gosh. The lighting the texturing the lineless agh its so good

I guess I haven't thought about it for a little while, but I guess Chase slamming on the breaks is supposed to fake us out thinking that he has seen Carmen's shadow. It sets up how idiotic of a detective he is, while Julia is observant and actually makes connections. I really like this early (VERY early) setup to how their relationship is going to work. However, at the same time, the show is really gunning for us to root for Julia when she starts infodumping. Chase is clearly the asshole. I can't help but wondering, though, if the show undercuts the importance of Julia's research by IMMEDIATELY cutting away to something "more interesting" (Carmen) as soon as she starts talking. What do you think?

I like how Carmen just shoots out of the alleyway and looks at them for a solid minute. She's just like 👁️👁️ i mean we KNOW it doesn't take her that long to use her grappling hook. She was just watching them

LA FEMME ROGUE

Chase's damage of cars starts at not even 2 minutes into the entire show <3

anyway

CARMEN'S DRAMATIC CHARACTER INTRO MY BELOVED <3

ALSO another shoutout to the SCORE OH MY GOD RELEASE AN OST CS TEAM

when you think about it does player's character intro ever seem a little clumsy to you? ooh yeah its player glad to hear he's on board girl you've known him for years girl. girl. he's always on board.

i love player's robots and machines everywhere <3

YEAH SORRY. SCORE AND ANIMATION AGAIN WHEN SHE'S RUNNING ACROSS THE ROOFTOPS. FRAMED BY THE MOON? OUGH

she's so unnecessary <3 you did not have to swing that grappling hook around like a whip but im so glad you did girlie

i adore how her usb is disguised like a lipstick as if subtlety was ever her thing ever. like when on earth would someone catch her in the full red coat and fedora and then be like "oh ok well there's nothing suspicious here other than the grappling hook, hang glider, and taser so I'll let you go ok

PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE YOU REALLY DONT CARE ABOUT THIS RANDOM OTHER SIGNAL THAT COULD GET YOU KILLED

OUGH THE LIGHTING WHEN SHE'S DROPPING DOWN FROM THE CEILING

just. just move. you could have just moved out of the way

her hat bending upwards when she's listening against the fake atrium <3

i love carmen's jokes about player being a little internet cave troll do we ever get more of those?? i feel like we don't and I wish we did. their dynamic is so fun when its just the two of them, which is like. never again

sorry. gina's vocal fry when she says "job." that is all

the elevator gag is actually so funny

imagine not taking the stairs 5-9 at a time. chase doesn't skip leg day smh

i love the feeling of suspense this safe cracking gives us paired with chase running up to arrest her. its fun because she gets to show off and have a lot of fun with him. but at the same time, we rarely get this feeling of suspense again when it comes to confrontations- only big boss battles like Coach Brunt, Shadow-san, and cold weather

chase used his whole entire face to ram through that door

the bag tightening is so iconic i can only be grateful that she does it again later on in the show

chase: ive never had one run AT me before

does anyone ever hear the sound that chase's hair makes when it gets slicked back? because it is a SQUISH. his hair is. so saturated with gel that his hair SQUISHES

i like how it takes chase a sec when she's reading his name from the badge I like to think he thinks he's just THAT well known of an agent that she knows him

i also like that he just stands there for a sec after she grapples through the ceiling like shit now what

free him

carmen is funny i will give her that. she can also FLY apparently because she' jumping like 25 feet no problem

the grabbing of her hat as she jumps off backwards and the backwards smirk and the oh my god im so gay ok

also julia. and the horror on chase's face dhfas

dark carmen let carmen be mean, hot, and speak other languages more and that is why i want her to come back please

chase what in the goddamn fuck

ever think about how chase landing on this car right now eventually led to julia joining acme because i do

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO (TITLE CARD) (THEME MUSIC). YES BARK BARK OUGSHDFH BARK

see chase can be smart but like that one tumblr post he can be blindingly intelligent for a minute a day and he does not get to choose when that is

CARMEN CHANGING AS THE TRAIN GOES BY INTO HER CIVILIAN OUTFIT IS SOOO ICONIC

chase continuing to ruin the car as he drives along and keeps failing is the funniest fucking thing. the comedic timing of the airbag.

THE DOUBT ON JULIA'S FACE WHEN CHASE CALLS HER "JULIA" AND COMPLIMENTS HER KILLS ME EVERY TIME

driving aggressively, of course

chase is responsible for 85% of carmen's stupid nicknames on the wiki and i love him for that

i think its half funny and half sad that carmen doesn't do anything to defend herself when gray aims the crackle rod at her. its a trend with people she thinks she can trust: she still sees him as her brother, not someone who would kill her, stun her, etc.

i love the dramatic dropping of the bag just because gray esentially gave her the equivalent electric shock of rubbing a balloon against your hair

something i dislike about carmen's character is that whenever it matters carmen is ALWAYS one step ahead of whoever doing whatever. they couldn't have had us start off by seeing her as flawed but competent, cocky but still human by having gray track her here. it would have immediately set VILE up as a real threat. but instead its just the girlboss badass gray is an idiot moment. idk

i like how they had to do the match cut but they also had to make black sheep excited so they just had blacksheep go >:) and then as soon as coach brunt used her vocal cords she went :D !!!!

why is the program only one year is my question

where does coach get all of the phones to dramatically smash

black sheep, at this time knowing full ass well that she has a contraband phone when brunt smashes one: U👄U

she said SNATCH

gray laughs with all of his teeth out

they gave black sheep insecurities about her past with gray solely so they could show us black sheep having those insecurities about her past with gray to gray by black sheep

google says it takes roughly two hours to go from poitiers to paris by train. just a fun fact

hang on why was carmen going to paris by train? they didn't even have indonesia scheduled until she got there. why didn't she take zack and ivy to poitiers?? why was their rendezvous two hours away?? why didn't ivy have ANY TIME AT ALL TO GET ZACK A SNACK?? WHY DIDN'T ZACK HAVE TIME TO GET A SNACK

the biggest nesting doll has some weird inconsistency with the burn design- sometimes its there, sometimes it isn't. i wonder why carmen never ever brings it up though?

little black sheep is so cute

actually though these are some of my least favorite parts- the big long flashbacks. in my opinion, it would have been interesting to find out about carmen's past as we went along...maybe through ivy or something, or just little tidbits. like we'd get some basic information- that she used to be with VILE- but we would uncover the details with the detectives and her team. idk. little me when i first watched this show was SO confused by the flashbacks but then again my comprehension for shit is SO BAD. i literally had no clue what was going on

that nanny just standing by as carmen smears an entire tube of lipstick on the walls

LITTLE CARMEN IS SO CUTE

its very interesting how they wash out black sheep's hair when she's in VILE spaces to fit with the color schemes that are such a prominent part of this show.

little carmen was also an asshole wheeze

THEY ARE D I V I N G OUT OF THE WAY guess they learned from notyourpants guy

girl i dont think your legs are supposed to do that

why is the captain just putting claws up like what were you going to do maul her

the poor captain got the short end of the stick every single time

carmen stole someone's wedding ring so true

the crop top with the overalls is my FAVORITE outfit of black sheep's omg

carmen, like every single other teenager, drew giant eyeballs on her papers

absolutely incredible that carmen who has at this point pressed a few buttons on a phone once knows how to text and call no problem

player, calling random places: what is your full name and address please. well i know your address but what is your full name

ALSO player's room accumulating all that stuff in the years that go by is so cute

can you imagine. player just usually gives out his real name and the only reason he didn't this time was because carmen had a weird ass name

"thats a thing" HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A HACKER IS

also how does she know what right and wrong is

lets imagine for a second player called some faculty phone line or something and professor maelstrom got this ten year old asking to aid the biggest crime network in the world just because he could and also knew nothing at all

kinda cool that they put in the weird...sewer grate or whatever that carmen later escapes out of in the shot where she's on the beach

maelstrom changes hand positions from when he asks black sheep why she requested an audience (hands clasped with thumbs up and touching) to when he says to enroll (villain steepled fingers) and then he goes back to the first on the wide shot

i admire how organically they introduce the names of all the faculty in this scene

appreciation for "the gurl is fehhahhral"

AND THEN HE GOES BACK TO STEEPLE FINGERS

i enjoy how harsh the lighting is in the faculty room. its just white on the characters

i LOVE rewatching these episodes with the lens of shadowsan's REAL motivations mmmm

i also like how black sheep really thinks about shadowsan's words

MAEL WENT BACK TO THUMBS UP CLASPED HANDS ITS ok whatever

why don't the music notes line up with the faculty raising their hands after two or three sob

where does shadowsan even walk off to. is there a door over there or does he just awkwardly scoot off and through the big doors

what the hell are even in front of black sheep's dorms a tennis court??

also i thought those dorms were where her room was where is she moving from

she tied her whole globe up with rope to walk 100 feet

mime bomb being in the background for all of this <3

i like all of the VILE Class's introductions. EL Topo is kind, Le Chevre is a bit dismissive but courteous, and Tigress is...well she's happy until she says her name and then she's a bitch about everything forever and ever

"but were you seeing things from my point of view" actually what other perspective are you giving him here

get rekt aussie boy

so upset they changed this design. the eyeliner, the fluffy hair, the red hair clip. they're so good. she's so cute. all of the young designs are cute actually

they didn't have to animate sheena's ass swaying like that

he's from australia??? really????

i like how gray was just working the soundboards one day and his pay was so bad that he was like "fuck. yeah man I'm breaking every single law. ever."

where the hell did the black on that sheep origami come from. the paper was white on both sides??

shadowsan has the best damn view on the island look at that

cleo's dress. cleo's voice. cleo's

why do they market as an import/export company if they immediately begin training as thieves. why does "villains international league of evil" matter at all

shadowsan has the only class that uses other students. the rest of the classes are main character only. so sad

my favorite part of carmen sandiego is the way they one moment don't allow the characters to say the word kill but in maelstrom's classroom he has human bones and a whole ass brain on display and then they shoot a man dead

no idea how maelstrom dropped his briefcase so that it landed on the other side of tigress's

also i love how they set up some of the two most used concepts in the entire show here: bait and switch and always protect the face

gray is blind we love him for that. she is holding a phone and gas earbuds in.

where did she get earbuds from

point and laugh

so true of le chevre to kick off the stilts the show should have let him win that one, not bs

the poor captain has gone entirely white-haired from this yearly encounter with a child

rita moreno bee cosplay

el topo's laugh is so genuine <3

what was their detention anyway? sit and talk? come up with codenames? seems more like a reward to me

imagine if gray named himself power failure and everyone called him failure

gray is a giraffe

i love the dig at old witwics with the puns for names jkdsghdsa

le chevre is very comfortable on that pole

mime bomb. that is all

class of vile, after a year of sharing a dorm with mime bomb: who the fuck are you

he's iconic

all of the different teacher rooms are sooo cool i love their designs. and once agains color theory coming through with shadowsan's red room!!!

i also like that students get to take exams with their operative gear, as it plays into how effective they will be in the field. however, what happens if someone doesn't graduate?? what happens to all their specialized gear??

she sacrificed a leg for ass. sad :(

i like how tigress acts like a cat

GET SLAPPED TIGRESS

that scrap of fabric flew SO FAR

that little wink tigress does <3

i like how shadowsan has another coat ready and waiting. who's hurt him in the past. he learned

black sheep no don't walk into the camera wait blacwfhghgfh

gray after black sheep failed so hard that she blew the entire year's worth of schooling: damn girl you're so good. best ever actually

i like how they all have to trace their names over to see if they passed like what are you getting lost on the way also getting these grades is exactly like seeing who got cast for the school musical

rip to the random background ops who failed

gray's face is actually just D:

the dutch angle dolly zoom is SOOO GOOD

tigress is still a high school mean girl. elementary school, even. the big kid's table. no children allowed

"looks like someone needs to turn in their stealth suit" black sheep she/they confirmed and sheena respects pronouns

"COME ON LET'S GO PLOT A CAPER" that is so funny to me because vile operatives as we see later NEVER, EVER PLOT THEIR OWN CAPERS

why is carmen's nose so tiny

anyway

seeing black sheep look so short next to shadowsan is so sweet considering she's almost as tall as him later <3

"are you accusing a criminal, thievery, and breaking the law teacher of cheating"

mime bomb for goodness sake. i love the animation of his face emerging from the shadows though

HOW DID SHE SNEAK ONTO THAT HELICOPTER I WILL NEVER KNOW

does anyone know whether CS uses 3d elements for some of their bigger objects like cars, helicopters, the vault door etc.

i like how vile school is completely entirely out in the open not disguised at all

gray: bye bye black sheep black sheep, from the shadows: HAVE YOU ANY WOOL

THE CREDIT MUSIC <3

OKAY so that was my post on the first episode. will they all be this long? who knows. probably. maybe. i'm so excited for this

[shinjiist]

I love when I see soul eater AUs so much ahhhh the fact it’s not more common as an AU type is so baffling to me like soul resonance??? The bond between weapon and Miester? AHHH the dynamics! The way expectations can be subverted so perfectly- I love it

Do you have more Trigun soul eater AU ideas for like weapon and Miester pairs?

omg no bc literally like theres so much potential in sm areas w an au like this i couldn't help myself

right now I'm still straightening ideas out in my brain and I don't want things to get Too convoluted but I have a few ideas I can share rn

to answer ur question before i go on a tangent, obv vashwood are paired together though not at first (possibly considering at first vash is paired with livio ?). i think i want vash to be a meister because this presents a few opportunities for parallels between canon and the au w/ there being at least one incident beyond his control but because he's the meister he feels he holds some level of responsibility

maybe while he and livio are acquiring their witch soul something happens (maybe w/ livio's eye i truly have no idea) but they do manage to get it and vash is paired w/ wolfwood afterwards (kinda want him to be in the NOT class when he 1st enrolls if not for grades for the idea of making space so livio could get in idk how the system works ngl)(or mayb he and livio don't get it and livio decides not to be in the EAT class idk i'm not killing him off though idc idc)

other pairings i'm really not as sure about (i'm not well versed in trigunism it's just my current hyfix and i'm literally going to start trimax after this bc i oeuwgwh anyway) like i think meryl and milly would be really good w/ my limited understanding of milly's personality. i also don't want to overload this w dead-ended info and sound like that one twitter post (why's hoseok the bus driver....) but um alberto is a teacher at the DWMA during like the 2nd of 3rd yr of Vash + Nai's enrollment (i have a timeline for the lore bc they're like grown by the time canon rolls around . sorry to infodump over a single question genuinely but i can't talk abt this on twitter bc it's SCARY over there .. i'm catfishing as someone cool -guy who's failing)

also because i think vash wielding the punisher is cool as fuck cough (feat. wip i will never finish bc idfk how to draw him)

anyway though, vash as a meister also appeals to me because with nai as a weapon it quickly raises the question— why wouldn't they have just been paired together to begin with? i think that nai doesn't even test into the EAT class when they're first enrolled. maybe it's a fluke where he just needs a single point, maybe he completely bombs it, maybe it's just nerves, either way he doesn't get in and this is where he and vash find out they are not compatible as weapon and meister as much as they care about eachother

i also think that this would seed some doubt in nai's mind about how he perceives others vs how he is perceived, esp w/ a certain INCIDENT before they're enrolled in the DWMA and ohhhh i have so much i could say abt this (i accidentally centered what i wrote abt this au so far Largely abt his POV because he's always running around my skull like a hamster to a wheel he's like almond butter to me . anyway)

a little bit late but i had to sit down and dedicate myself to this post bc it needed my utmost attention but more ppl should ask me questions abt this pretty please i love talking So Bad

[beast-of-mosss]

Feel free to infodump at me about Viveras Lavellan (or Deshan) I love to hear about blorbos and I mean this genuinely

Hkkanejwjeiwjwj, I'll give you a rundown on Viveras and his relationship with Deshan! Although, I'm in a Dragon Age Server where it's mostly just people talking about their blorbos and being nerds- so,,,definitely hit me up if you're interested!!!!! :D!!!!

I'm so sorry for this long ass post as well as my sleepy brain writing. I'm mentally ill.

I'm a bit tired, but I'll try to form thoughts for you.

Anyway! So, we're gonna focus on Viveras Lavellan. He's still being developed due to my brain worms hyperfocusing on Deshan, but he's definitely more developed compared to Ren Trevelyan. These are just the run down of him, there's a lot more information about him on the discord.

Viveras Lavellan is a mage, and is the Clan's First. He's 19 years old and is 11 years younger than Deshan. When I was first developing him, he was kinda my shitpost voice piece for a lot of the dehumanization that the Inquistior (Deshan) faces/also anger at the disrespect of the Dalish by the Inner Circle. He also does,,,like elfroot weed and is lowkey an menace to society but only when Deshan is around.

He's a gender non-confirming, and he does like to wear dresses. He has an interest in fashion design which he picked up from an elder in the Clan. He's confident in his looks, and can act like a smug cat at times.

And just like most creators do, the Lavellan siblings' parents are dead- but Viveras was told by Deshan that they were abandoned. I have a wip scene of that, I'll link the little wip/teaser here:

Here's him in a dress!!

He's actually pretty aloof, and tends to daydream a lot, but he's quick witted. He's a lot more easier to read than Deshan.

He does show up at Skyhold, much to Deshan's horror, and is a bad influence to Cole. He tends to be passive-aggressive towards the Inner Circle, he does warm up to some of them. A lot of things are still wip with him, but I do know some more based concepts with him.

Where Deshan is the sun, Viveras is the moon. They both kinda foil each other (sweet lies vs. blunt truth, direct anger vs. Indirect anger, etc).

There's a shitpost/canon scene where it's the Judgement scene, and it's all serious and the criminal is Viveras and hes high off his mind. He snuck in, got some soilders to do elfroot weed with him, and somehow passed out on the roof of the barn. It's quiet, Josephine is reading off his crimes. Then all of the sudden "Keeper Deshanna is gonna fucking kill you!" And queue a chase scene and screaming.

Another shitpost/canon scene is Viveras, Sera, and Cole doing elfroot weed and Cole accidentally inhales it?? Or smth. Disappears for a week, only to show up in the fucking roof.

Viveras and Deshan relationship is tense and toxic. And it's Deshan fault. Deshan lies to Viveras, thinking rhat it's better to give him comfort than truth. They care so much for Viveras, and they want him to live a safe and healthy life. They don't want to lose him, so they lie and hide themselves from him. Thinking that it would protect him from the world and from themselves. Overprotective of him, and in a way-treating him like a child. And it's hard for Viveras, and although the Clan is his family, he does really want to have Deshan's approval and wants to be taken seriously by them. He wants to be let in, and he had tried many times before-but he gets shut down or shut out by Deshan.

He's hurt by them, and not knowing how to deal with that-he acts reckless. Putting himself at risk more just to gain that attention from Deshan.

He dabbles in blood magic, and instead of wielding a staff like any other mage-he wields the Blade of Tidarion.

They do eventually have a heart to heart, and do mend their relationship, but after Trepasser-Deshan's character growth takes a step back and they went back to bad habits. And once again, Viveras was pushed out and alone.

And he hardened his heart and turned his back on them, returning to his clan and helping the Clan in Wycome.

I do have a scene that I want to write where Deshan, once they finally pulled themselves together, tried to reach out-but is rejected by Viveras. Deshan only leaving him with a letter and a messenging crystal. They do this to let him know that they will always be there for him if he wants them to be? My brain is going foggy atm, but I want to leave a hopeful ending to their sibling relationship.

Here's his wip playlist;

[spacebug7]

hi hi!!! bored so do you have anything you like want to infodump about? or just send a long post about or want me to research/read/watch/listen to or etc? this ask can take as long as u want or be as long as you want or whatever u want just curious :) can be about absolutely anything!!

hey there!

sooo this is pretty different from what i normally talk about BUT tlou hbo has reignited my hyperfixation on it and sadly they have taken over my brain once again. aaand i kind of feel like people are misinterpreting the core of the story at the moment, so. full ramble below the cut and yes i will be spoiling absolutely everything (including the next season, but i'll mark that part with a warning) so i am very sorry tumblr user hazmatazz if you can't read this now but. i NEED to get this off of my chest.

right off the bat, i'm going to get to the main thing: joel's lie.

a lot of what i'm about to explain is best summarized with the bts the making of clips that are shown at the end of look for the light but i feel a very deep need to spell this out for some of you.

NO ONE IN THIS SITUATION IS RIGHT OR WRONG!!!

and this is a running theme that i'm definitely going to get back to later because that's another main thing with tlou as a whole.. they tend to create very morally grey, not-right not-wrong characters, and that's on purpose. a large part of this story as a whole is to show how people (and humanity in a lot of cases) would react if we were put into these situations.

which leads us right back to what joel did.

the last of us offers this already very damaged, very broken person a really visceral, hard decision. and i feel like people are forgetting that these experiences, him losing sarah and tess and the promise he made to tess.. all of that shapes his decision to save ellie and protect her.

like (i believe it was, i don't have the time to check--) craig mazin said at the end of look for the light, a lot of tlou1 is about the deep, unconditional love of a parent. he was essentially offered to save his adoptive daughter or save humanity.

just think about his situation for a second. if you had this person that you loved like family, and you had to choose saving them over a world that is already long gone, would you? because i know i would, and i'm sure there are a lot of people that would agree with me.

and then there's ellie.

throughout the first part, ellie has this strange sort of, for lack of a better term, "chosen one" complex, where she has this mindset that's like, "okay, i have this really special, probably rare thing, and there's no one else like me, as far as we know. what can i do with that?" and her first answer is always to use it. the show takes this another step further in a small way when she tries to save sam, but it doesn't work, which is some pretty rough foreshadowing, but i'm getting off-topic.

ellie wants her immunity to mean something bigger, to be something greater than just something that can only stop her from getting infected. she wants to save and help people, because she couldn't save rylie or tess or sam, and she's watching all of these people die around her, and she can't do anything. so, obviously, when she finds out there's a chance she can change that, she's going to want to tak eit. and even more so, she's going to get hurt when joel, this person she loves and cares a lot about, stops that from happening on purpose and lies to her face about it.

they both have their reasons. does that make joel a little selfish, in some ways? maybe. but talk to any parent you know, and they would do the same thing. sometimes, when it comes to stuff like this, people can be inherently selfish. it doesn't mean that they're bad people, though.

you could argue for both sides here, and that's what makes all of this so complicated. ellie is a bordering-on-suicidal fourteen year old girl who wanted her immunity to mean something for other people, too. joel just wanted to keep her around and let her live a somewhat fulfilling life. you could also say that fedra wouldn't allow the vaccine to be distributed, or that the fireflies are liars or that maybe the fireflies were just trying to help, and you'd be right on all accounts. it is just too difficult to call either of these people wrong for getting upset and doing what they did.

season two spoilers start here!

i also sort of want to elaborate on that thing i said earlier about tlou and its characters, because i know for a fact we're going to have the same fights we got when tlou2 came out once season 2 is out, and i want to clear some stuff up right now before i lose my mind. yes, this is tangential. i do not care at all lmao

if you can forgive joel and tommy for all of the shitty things they've done, hell, if you can forgive ellie for what she does in part 2, then you can absolutely forgive abby, too. and if you don't, you're kind of biased and lack some very important empathy, imo.

let's just look at what these characters do during this conflict completely objectively, for a minute, sticking to the games' canon.(since s2 isn't out yet)

joel kills abby's father, the surgeon that was meant to kill ellie, in order to save her. abby, in turn, once she finds him, kills joel. ellie and tommy, out of pure grief and anger, track abby and her group down and kill all eight of them off one by one. ellie only spares abby once she's the last person standing and has a kid to take care of.

keep in mind, abby literally SPARED ellie and tommy. was this for some pretty harsh reasons? probably. but still. she said it herself, she let them live. she could have killed them at any time in that room, and she made the choice not to.

now, no one other than abby had really laid a hand on joel, other than wrapping that tourniquet around his leg at the very beginning. ellie still wanted them all dead, because they were there, and they helped, and they were friends with abby, and in ellie's eyes, that's crime enough to deserve punishment.

but we still love ellie. we still love tommy. we still root for both of them, because we understand their characters and empathize with them. (which was sort of the point of playing as abby for so long in part 2 but i guess some people just didn't click with that which is fine but ugh. you don't GET ITTTT)

on the outside looking in, abby really isn't any worse than either of them. you may even argue that she's better. but that's one of the driving themes of the games, and the story as a whole. no one is good or bad, we're all just people with separate motivations that intersect in bad ways.

spoilers end here!

i guess that's why i get so frustrated when i see that we're still misunderstanding the conflict between joel and ellie here. there isn't any right or wrong here! they are both just people who care about each other very deeply, and sometimes, because of that, they get hurt. if we're going to keep doing this i am begging you all not to watch season two. you're just going to get pissed off again.

[bisluthq]

I generally just infodump about Taylor Swift in my submission, but I actually need some advice (or literally just to vent).

So, about a month ago I moved from Grade 10 (high school) to Grade 11 (college) and obviously it's been an adjustment period, but I'm starting to get used to things.

The problem is, like a week after I expressed to my best friend that I'd felt like our friend group (including her) were sort of just tolerating my presence, she texted me this LONG text basically saying that she's been trying to find the right way to say things, and that she really cares about me, doesn't want to hurt my feelings, how I haven't done anything wrong, but she's going through some shit and is really struggling mentally at the moment, and basically needs some space, and feels like she can't be there for me in the way I deserve.

I cried when I saw it, but I understood (and still do understand) where she was coming from, and was very supportive of what she'd said in my follow up messages. But since then, every time I've seen her at school she's been with out other friend, even though she said she'd expressed this to other people.

Me, her, and the other friend all share a maths class, and they've stopped sitting with me. The first time it happened, she texted me that night and was like, "fuck were you here today? I'm so sorry."

And to be quite honest, I'm upset, but I sort of feel like I shouldn't be. She's done everything "right", and done her best to make it clear I haven't done anything, but it still feels a little targeted, especially since when I told her about feeling ignored she was like, "I really think for your sake you need to get out more/talk to more people" but even that was phrased as nicely as possible.

It's all just a mind-fuck, and I don't what to do. I've just been hanging out with some other people I'm a little less close to and it’s been great, but she's my best friend and I hate not talking to her, even if I get why.

I think transition periods (middle to secondary; secondary to college; college to uni; uni to workplaces) often come with these sorts of complicated friend situations and it absolutely does suck. I think you’re justified in feeling a bit ticked off and it is - imho - a little bit personal (which is okay). By the sound of it, she wants to craft a bit of a new identity and strike outside her established comfort zone and you’d prefer to stay close and keep the status quo. That’s an impasse. I’d recommend trying to make some new friends and getting out your comfort zone too. You and her might reconnect in time, or maybe you’re growing in separate directions. That’s definitely sad but it’s a part of life. I’d focus on making new friends at college and your extramurals/part-time job. Be proactive. The people you like from college but aren’t close to - why not invite them to do something together? You aren’t close now but you might become close and it’s a chance to spread your wings and make new friends (which seems to be what she wants to do too). Neither of you are at fault - this is a really hard but normal thing to go through.

I had a similar situation actually partway into uni so not even during a life transition but basically a friend told me a similar thing. It was right after my ex and I broke up and I was sorta leaning on being very sociable and she and I had been friends since school and anyway I kept asking her if she wants to hang out and eventually she said to me that she feels we’re growing apart and should take some space from each other. Her and I actually went on to do the same postgrad course and we’ve hung out again but we’ve never been THAT close and yes it hurt a lot (her message was ruder than your friend’s btw) but eh she was probably right like we were growing in different directions and the close friendship was running its natural course. Didn’t make it hurt less but I wish her well and I’m glad I did manage to make a bunch of new friends at uni - many of whom are lifelong friends - which I probably wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t sorta given me that push and carried on focusing on like her and our other school friend and mutual friends with my ex.

allow yourself to hurt and mourn a bit but also go out and be sociable and make new friends imo!

[masterbuilderintern]

Wait I just looked through your blog and you appear to be someone who knows what they're doing

If I just dumped a bunch of info that you're already aware of bc you are on top of things generally im sorry

I saw the whole thing and knew bits and bobs, I don't really keep up on the personal lives of other people I don't know so anything I do know is stuff I see in passing or in their content

Most stuff I know of QSMP members is purely what they mention in QSMP themselves, for example

It's totally okay you sent that ask btw! It's a really long post so I'll just keep it in the inbox but do know I did see it and I do not mind it at all

I, in fact, only sort of know what I'm doing, I live in a little bubble and learn things mostly through other people if I'm not actively engaging in it

The most I know from DSMP is actually infodumps from my younger brother, who was mostly a Technoblade fan, and he showed me those really popular animations about the whole L'manburg arc thing

SAD-ist is really talented! I like the original work they've been doing lately

I heard DSMP ended pretty bad though so that sucks, (A nuclear bomb went off or something????) but recently I just had to end my own server from the stress of running it so I guess sometimes it just doesn't work out, idk anything about Dream himself except the stuff I hear here and there and it doesn't seem all that pretty so I'm just gonna sit in a corner away from that whole thing

I used to be very nervous about touching MCYT stuff because of that fandom specifically, I even got really defensive when I heard Jackmanifold was going to watch Marble Hornets, but after warming up to people like Ranboo and Slimecicle it ain't as bad as I thought

Like any fandom out there it's just certain people that make it scary

I never did watch any Jackmanifold content though even after all that lol I just never got around to it

I did learn about people like FitMC though, who I have mad respect for because I value historical preservation of any kind and him being a historian for something that'd be so incredibly difficult to make a record of is really cool

I've even thought about looking into Hermitcraft, since I've had someone I know personally recommend it to me as well

I will say, knowing about Ranboo being so young and blowing up so quickly, it does worry me about how that'll affect them? I have this natural concern for people younger than me, being the eldest of seven, so seeing all the attention they're getting is like

Absolutely amazing work! Be proud! But oh my god be careful, especially when they choose to wear a mask

People are SO invasive and entitled when it comes to online personalities, they treat them like dolls

Otherwise, it's really neat to see such a young queer creator get this sort of attention, I really like their work and look forward to where they take future generations for Genloss, like Chronicle 0

SIDE NOTE: MY FIRE ALARM WENT OFF RIGHT AS I WAS ABOUT TO POST THIS???? JUMPSCARE

[weskin-time]

Jill or Carlos with a S/O that has autism or ADHD? Listening intently to their partners rants and rambles about their hyperfixations or stimming with them when they get too excited or their emotions get too strong

YES! i am on the spectrum so this made me so fucking happy to write you have no idea

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira with an Autistic S/O HCs

i am. on pain medication from getting my wisdom teeth out today so im sorry if anything makes no sense or there are errors i am just vibing

Jill Valentine

she keeps a pair of ear plugs in her pockets when you two go anywhere just incase

loves to hear you infodump and stim after shes had a rough day. just loves to unwind at home while listening to your voice

and she’ll nod her head, hum in agreement and ask questions when you’re talking. never in a ‘im not fully listening’ she actually loves to see your eyes light up and the happy expression on your face when you talk about a hyperfixation or special interest

she was a little confused when you first visually stimmed but instead of asking you she just followed your movements which made you even more excited

if you get too excited about something where you’re starting to hyperventilate and you feel like you’re going to explode she will open the bedroom door and make you wiggle around on the bed. full body stim so good good yes

will get you little trinkets or gifts from the things you’re obsessed about to show how much she listens and cares

doesn’t mind cooking you your samefood over and over again, it gives her a chance to brush up on her cooking skills plus she loves to cook with you (she kinda sucks at it but it’s okay i love her so much *smooch*)

if you’re starting to get overstimulated in public she quickly learns the early signs and tries to get you away, or you could just tell her “i’m starting to get overstimulated here” and you’re out of wherever you’re at instantly. she can come back another time if there’s something she needs

she keeps every rock, flower, marble or what ever you bring her. she has old police books with pressed flowers you gave her, the rocks are in a jewelry box.

when you start to freak out and have a breakdown she’s sorta at a loss to help but in a split second she runs and grabs your weighted blanket and puts it around your shoulders while getting you your favorite drink. it all depends on you and how you deal but she’s quick to make adjustments

non verbal moments? she will help you make little cards to show your wants and needs and other information.

angry? ripped your shirt in anger? banged your head against a wall? tore some hair out? she will try to help you calm down as best she can and then patch you up. she’ll take safety pins and pin your shirt. she’ll give you an ice pack and some pain relief medicine. she gives you kisses

don’t like a certain texture? boom it’s gone. if you feel it still even after you’ve touched it she’ll bring you your favorite texture

loves it when you sit on her lap and rub your face on her like a cat. she will join you in the face rubbing

food textures you don’t like? give them to her she’ll eat them. don’t like mushrooms bc they’re squishy and weird and make you want to punch a man? she’ll give you a tiny fork to pick them off your pizza and she’s putting it on hers

Carlos Oliveira

he’s an adhd haver

autism and adhd solidarity

when he washes his hair it’s so soft and fluffy and thick that you could sit there and pet his head and rub your fingers thought it for hours. he doesn’t mind at all. he’s sitting there almost purring like a cat

vocal stim echo chamber

y’all can make sounds or words over and over again and just keep bouncing them off each other for hours no matter what you’re going

his beard is also very soft. he keeps very good care of his appearance so it’s not like super scratchy it’s a very good texture please rub your face against it once or twice before kissing his nose

this man can’t cook for shit. normally it’s take out. most of the time y’all develop a samefood at the same restaurant so you two must order the same place for weeks and just get the same food

WILL LAY ON YOU AND CRUSH YOU WITH HIS WEIGHT.!! he loves cuddles so much and now he’s getting cuddles and helping you? his new favorite cuddling position is him laying on top of you while you run your finger through his hair

He’s the one who goes into places and talks to the workers there for you if you need him too. want to order lunch but feeling not up for it to order? tell him what you want he’s got you <3

non verbal moments? he talks enough for the both of you honestly. he knows sign language so you two could take that way or he’ll use cards too. if you text him he will read out your text before responding lol

pillow fort movies/tv show/ video game nights. filled with all that good sensory shit and your favorite snacks and his.

he stims with you. every time. it’s involuntary on his part.

more than likely there is one texture he loves that you hATE. you hate velvet? the first time you come over to his place he had a velvet blanket on his bed.

stocks the fridge with his and your favorite food textures. he likes pudding and cottage cheeses textures

he’s better at preventing meltdowns or breakdowns before they happen than helping you during the act

you two bring each other things. he picked up his paperclip to throw it away but he gained emotional attachment to it and he’s giving it to you bc he doesn’t want to loose his new friend. has all the thing you give him in a shoebox under his bed for safe keeping

one of his favorite stims is running his callused hands up and down your softer skin at a medium pace. he starts out slow before speeding up a bit more. just placing his hand on your body and running it down before picking it up and putting it where he first started. loves if you do a ‘cat making biscuits’ stim on his body while he does that to you

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

~

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights. 

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

~

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter). 

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking. 

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly. 

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

~

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened. 

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

~

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second. 

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King. 

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year. 

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

~

THE END!!

We love a cutesy/hopeful ending😌

Like always lads, you wanna write it out in full, go for it, credit and tag me✌️

Head over to This List to see what I’m working on next, and cast your vote!

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here! You can also send me an ask to be added to/removed from the taglist.

permanent taglist; @pervhotch @spenxerslut @donald4spiderman @measure-in-pain @thatonezesty13 (check your visibility settings!) @jswessie187 @kuolonsyoja @idonotexiste

[specialagentsergio]

side effects may vary

summary: An unexpected side effect brings you and Spencer closer—literally—when he’s prescribed a medication to help relieve his chronic nightmares.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: prescription drug use, one small sexual reference, discussion of tornadoes (spencer gives a small infodump)

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ “there was only one bed” event. when i saw the “medication makes someone sleepy” prompt, i had to take it, because this happens to me regularly lol.

word count: 2k

masterlist

It’s become a habit for you and Spencer: every Friday night you can, the two of you get together and watch a movie or show. It’s always at your place because he doesn’t have a TV, but he doesn’t mind—you have the better couch anyways. He thinks he could stay on it forever, especially on the nights where you don’t watch anything at all and talk for hours instead.

He made the mistake of mentioning this Friday night tradition to Morgan once. He’d questioned just why, exactly, Spencer liked going over to your place so much. Spencer hadn’t realized Derek was teasing him until he’d already come up with the lame excuse of your couch being really comfortable.

Morgan had chuckled. “I think it has less to do with the couch and more to do with the person who owns it, kid.”

He was right, of course, but was Spencer going to admit his silly little crush? Absolutely not. Especially not to Derek. He just continued going to your place every Friday, stubbornly ignoring the smirks and eyebrow wiggles sent his way from the man.

It’s one such night a few months later when an alarm on his phone goes off, making you both jump. He nearly spills the popcorn everywhere in his scramble to turn it off. “Sorry. It’s—wow, it’s nine already.” As usually happens when he’s with you, he’s lost track of time. It’s why he set the alarm in the first place.

“You have somewhere to be?” you ask.

“Um, no. I just…” he trails off, leaning forward to dig through his satchel at his feet, searching for the white paper bag he picked up from the pharmacy earlier in the day.

You don’t ask aloud, raising an eyebrow instead. It’s you providing him with an out—you’ll let him pretend he didn’t see it if he doesn’t want to answer the question.

He sighs, pulling the little orange bottle out, a prescription from the psychiatrist you’d coaxed him into seeing. “It’s just, uh… it’s supposed to help with, y’know… dreams,” he explains quietly.

“Nightmares,” you clarify.

“Yeah. That’s what the alarm was for.” He pops the cap and looks at the little pills inside. “To remind me.”

“We can finish this later,” you say with a gesture towards the TV. “It’s okay if you need to leave.”

He shakes his head. “She said to take it a few hours before bed. There’s plenty of time to finish.” Not that he cares that much about the show. He just doesn’t want to cut his time with you short.

“The bottle says it can make you drowsy, though,” you say, pointing out the little flap on the side of the bottle he hadn’t noticed.

“It won’t,” he dismisses nearly immediately, shaking a dose out into his hand.

“You can’t know that.”

“I’m a chronic insomniac. I’ve tried medication before. It doesn’t work,” he says firmly.

“If you say so,” you say, unconvinced.

“I do.”

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The words on their own typically imply annoyance or resignation, an insistence that the speaker knows better, but from you, all he can detect is amusement. And if he didn’t know better, he’d say your slight smile conveyed affection.

“Oh, I won’t,” he replies confidently, and takes the dose with a sip of water.

That confidence turns out to be misplaced.

It doesn’t happen quickly. You finish watching the current episode and he insists on another. About halfway through it, he starts to feel… different. A little… foggy and unfocused. Any movement he makes feels slow, and his eyelids are getting heavy. Try as he might, he can’t quite keep them open. He’ll rest them for just a minute….

“… encer. Spencer.” Something pokes his arm and he grumbles, shifting away.

“What?”

“It’s over.”

He blinks a few times, slowly reacquainting himself with his surroundings. Credits are rolling on the TV screen; he's about to ask why they look slanted, then realizes it's because he's slumped to the side. He pushes himself back to sitting, a delayed "oh" leaving his mouth. He rubs the sleep from one of his eyes, and catches your expression in the other.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" you protest but the little laugh punctuating your words gives away what he knew you were thinking: I told you so.

With a sigh, he begins gathering up his things, pulling his bag into his lap and untying his shoelaces so he can put them back on.

“What are you doing?" you ask.

"Um, going home?"

"You can't ride the Metro like this," you say. "You're half asleep."

He tries and fails to suppress a yawn, but still insists, "I'll be fine."

"Spencer, I don't like you riding the Metro this late even when you're totally lucid. You know that."

He does. You often express such worries on your Friday nights, offering to let him stay with you. He always declines. Your couch may be comfortable when he's sitting, but it's not long enough for his legs horizontally.

He also worries about what he might say in his sleep. He's been playfully teased by team members often enough already. The last thing he wants is to ruin your friendship by expressing his feelings for you in his sleep.

He's got one shoe on and is about to put on the other, but you snatch it away. "Hey."

"No,” you say firmly. "You're staying here tonight."

"(Y/N)--"

"Take your shoe off." You flip the TV off, stand, and stretch. "And come to bed."

His mouth drops open a little. Come to bed. Did he really just hear that? You say it like it's the most natural thing. It sounds so...domestic.

He really likes it.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your bedroom. You stop in the doorway and look back to him. "Come on."

He's in a bit of a daze as he walks towards you, not realizing he's still wearing one shoe for a few steps. He clumsily kicks it off, then follows you through the bedroom door and into the adjoining bathroom, where you provide him with a spare toothbrush.

Normally he wouldn't want to share toothpaste with someone. He's even refused to do so a few times on cases when his little travel-sized tube has run out, instead going down to the front desk of whatever place they're staying at for a replacement, no matter how tired he is. But tonight he doesn't even think twice, just takes the tube when you pass it to him. It simply feels...normal, as if you and him do this every night before bed.

I could get used to this.

Spencer's still a little groggy from the medication, so it isn't until he’s standing in the bedroom that he realizes that there’s a problem. "There's only one bed."

"Um, yeah," you reply. "What, did you think I had bunk beds?"

"No, I just..." He's not sure how to explain it when you're pulling back the covers like it’s any other night. "There's one bed... and two of us."

"That's correct. It's a queen. It's made for two people," you point out. You sit down on one side, then pat your hand on the other.

He slowly approaches the bed, but hesitates, twisting his fingers a little. Your expression shifts, and he blinks. Surely that's not a look of disappointment he's seeing?

Your voice is quiet when you speak. "Spencer, if you don't want to share a bed with me, you can just say it."

"What? No!" he exclaims. "That—that's not it at all."

"Okay, then, what is it?"

"The opposite,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I can't believe you want to share a bed with me."

"Why wouldn't I?" You say it so simply; he can hardly believe it.

"Well, because I'm... me," is the reply he comes up with. "I'm annoying, and I talk too much, and my limbs are all long and weird--"

"I don't think you're annoying, Spencer," you interrupt. "We wouldn't be friends if I did."

"Oh. I guess... I guess that's true. But my arms and legs--”

"Are fine,” you reassure.

“I…” He’s a little too out of it still to think of something else. “Well, okay.”

“Since that settled..." You smile up at him. "Would you get into bed?"

He can't help but smile back. "Okay."

You both settle in. Right before you turn off the light, he speaks again. "I talk in my sleep," he says quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. "Just thought you should know.

"So I'm gonna get your fun facts in the night, too?" you ask, the corner of your mouth turning up.

"Maybe." He fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "Derek says every night is a toss up between that or gibberish…”

You laugh. "Noted."

You turn the lights off and silence falls over the room as you both find comfortable positions. The medication definitely hasn't worn off; sleep is quickly approaching him again. He feels a light touch on his arm. It trails down to his wrist. A slight pause, then you're sliding your hand into his. On instinct he winds his fingers through yours. He hears a content sigh right before he drifts off.

---

Morning light spilling through the curtains wakes him up. He takes in a deep breath and stretches. He feels amazingly well rested; more than he has in a long time. And he had the best dream about you….

Spencer rolls over, then jumps a little—you're right there next to him, awake and looking at him with a soft expression.

"So it wasn't a dream," he says aloud.

You smile. "No, it wasn't.”

"We slept in the same bed," he says, dumbstruck.

"We did."

"You... held my hand?"

A nod and a bashful smile. “I did."

"Huh." He's quiet as he processes this and gathers his memories together. There's a question that comes to mind, but he doesn't know if he’s brave enough to voice it. Instead, he asks, "Did I sleep talk?"

"You did," you reply. "You told me the widest recorded tornado was 2.6 miles wide."

"The 2013 El Reno tornado," he says automatically. "It’s also the second most powerful tornado recorded. It occurred on May 31 of that year. Though it officially ranks as the widest tornado on record, current Doppler estimates of the 1999 Mullhall, Oklahoma tornado indicate that it may have been 4.3 miles wide."

You blink. "That's terrifying."

Spencer winces. "Sorry."

"It's okay." You hesitate a little, biting your lower lip, then slowly reach out and take his hand. Again, his fingers thread through yours perfectly.

He looks down at your joined hands, then back at you. His question from before returns. "What does this mean?" he asks quietly.

"It means..." You take a deep breath. "I like you.”

He frowns. "I know that. That's why we're friends."

"That's not what I meant." You squeeze his hand as if to remind him that you're holding it. "I meant that I like you as more than a friend."

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?" he squeaks.

"Really," you confirm. "If you don't feel the same, I understa--”

You're cut off by him leaning forward and pressing the lightest little kiss on your lips.

"I like you as more than a friend, too," he says softly.

You give him the most wonderful smile. "Then get back here and kiss me properly."

Spencer obliges. He's never cared less about morning breath.

You scoot closer to him when you break apart and push his limbs around slightly to get into an embrace. "Finally," you murmur into the skin of his neck.

The sensation makes him shiver. “What do you mean?"

"I’ve been trying to get you into my bed for weeks."

He nearly chokes on his own sharp inhale. "I—what?"

"Not like that," you clarify. "I just wanted a good opportunity to confess. I figured you'd be too comfy in bed to run off right after I told you."

“You think I'd run off on you?"

You shrug. “You tend to remove yourself from a situation if your feelings get too intense. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but in this case, it’s the last thing I wanted to happen, you know?”

"Yeah, I get that,” he says. "I promise not to do it with you, though. About anything.”

You lift your head to look him in the eyes. “Kiss me again."

Spencer does.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

smut follow up: hands to myself

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[musubiki]

ikasumi / emo ink mage girl infodump / lore dump thoughts so i can keep track!! (also some thoughts on how we first meet her in the story)

same age as the rest of the gang. about 16-17 when first introduced, 20-21 post-timeskip

first shows up claiming that tiramisu signed a contract previously that would allow her to be a memeber of the next cat witchs (mochi's) guild when the time came

said contract had the cat witchs seal, so tiramisu went "damn i guess i made this contract lmfaooo sorry mochi i guess she has to be a part of your guild? (sweating)"

(tiramisu signed a lot of contracts in her day that she doesnt nessecarily remember signing. she was a very busy woman)

mochi accepts it nonetheless because heyo thats her duty. feels a little queasy about it but this girl seems okay enough

at this point in the guild, its after lime, oscar, and coco are already members. ikasumi, at this point, would fill up the 5th and final position in the guild

for a little while, she stays in the room above the storage garage that taffy later gets

ikasumi claims to be from the central kingdom, and she hides the fact that she has any powers at all

basically throughout the course of the episode the guild remains suspicious of her but slowly kind of warms up. oscar is the only one who actually keeps an eye on her as the rest figure shes harmless

anyway theyre proven right because they catch her in the act of trying to steal some of mochis spellbooks. noteably, the ones that note down creatures and living beings

spellbooks which she then uses to pull creatures straight off the page into crazy ink monster things to attack them

ikasumi is proficient in her ink magic but still relatively young in it, and as a consequence doesn't have full control over that which she creates (summed up, the bigger/scarier the creature is, the more likely it is to turn on her)

she bites off more than she can chew with that being said, and mochi/the guild end up having to save her from her own creation

she reveals she is indeed one of the ink mages (or maybe the only one. I think these more common non-elemental mages can have more than one, contrast to taffy and kyanite who are the only one of their kind)

she is a member of the guild of the butterfly witch, Mag Lynn, who runs a fairly notorious antique shop (notorious in the magic community anyway. Mag Lynn's Antiques is full of old magic items, leftover cursed objects, weapons, spellbooks, etc. shes a collector, and also potentially the focus of a spin off/mini story i have in my brain)

Mag Lynn is about the age of mochis mom, and isn't very active as a witch anymore, but took in / recruited ikasumi for her ink magic

she was a bookkeeper for the antique shop but her newest mission is to spy on / keep an eye on the new cat witch, and send updates every so often. (everyone wants to know what goes on with the new cat witch) so she forged a contract and pretended like tiramisu owed her a guild spot

"why did you try and steal my spellbooks then-" "i mean. im sure lady mag lynn would appreciate a new addition to her collection-" and then mochi whacks her on the head with a book

regardless ikasumi is grateful to them for saving her, apologizes for deceiving them, and leaves

laughably it ends up as one of those things where its like "(in a kind of sad tone) do you think we'll ever see her again?" "who knows..." and then the next day she shows up at school and it floors all of them

"I thought you left forever?!" "No I still have Lady Mag Lynns mission to keep an eye on you, remember"

she also probably takes a part time job working at the cat cafe because lord knows being an artist doesnt exactly pay the bills

though she doesnt live with mochi afterwards - turns out lady mag lynn was housing her in a seperate apartment the whole time. part of the reason she agreed to this mission was mag lynn being like "ill take care of rent and utilities" and ikasumi was all "sold."

she is the broke artist character. also the character that will do nearly anything for money. think mona from genshin

someone drops a quarter by accident and she DIVES for it

tiramisu gives her free food whenever she drops by

i think she also has a thing for nice-smelling soap. she drops by to see mochi and is like "do you have any new soaps you can make me" and when mochi gives her the new coconut hibiscuis lavender whatever she magicked up ikasumi is all "(deep inhale) sensational"

doesnt show a lot of emotion, if any at all. just that blank expression most of the time. even when angry, while she beats the shit out of you shes emotionless the whole time

wears exclusively black/dark colors. coco respects this

likes her shimmer eyeshadow. post-timeskip she wears black lipstick as well

an even bigger conspiracy theorist than oscar. oscar goes "the moon landing was fake" and she responds "you believe in the moon?" oscar respects this

i think the way you beat her is with paper. you can re-trap the ink creations with paper, and i like to think of a really cool scene where mochi summons a shit ton of paper that just peppers her like those little paper men on spirited away

also a bit of a dumbass in her own right.

when shes sick: "im an artist. even when feeble, my body will remember" and then draws the worst thing youve ever seen

also noteworthy: her art skills are..,....not great

like 13 year old girl level. the only people she can draw are those badly drawn anime boys, and all her creatures look nothing like whatever it is shes trying to draw

she draws a dog and everyone is like "uhh boat? no? uhhhh is it a fish? not that either?? uhh"

this is one of the only things that frustrates her

oddly, oscar is the only one who nails it on the first try. maybe he has the vision. must be all that doodling in his journal that makes him more attuned to these things

coco is over there getting every guess wrong, and goes "c'mon, no one can tell what this is! oscar, what does this look like?!" and he leans over and goes "oh thats a dog"

ikasumi appreciates this

ability wise, whatever she can draw, she can bring to life / off the page

this includes weapons, items, creatures, etc. but its limited to her artistic ability

as a young mage all her creations are 2D but as she grows stronger they can take on 3D form

she carries around a small art kit with black paint / pens, but really she can use any kind of ink and any canvas to life. this includes spray paint and tattoos

usually draws cute little creatures that fight for her rather than fighting herself. in true desperation she creates horrific things, but shes also very afraid of them so she rarely does it (i think she gets more comfortable with it way later on)

she has cute freckles on her face, and also probably has shoulder freckles

i have a beta idea of her and coco starting a "lime sucks" club at school. she doesnt hate lime, has nothing against him, actually thinks hes really chill, but finds it very entertaining to be the thorn in the side of the "lime fan club" at school. indeed it becomes funny as hell. they HAAATE the lime sucks club.

when oscar catches wind of this hes like "AHAH! Thats awesome can I join?? for laughs??" and theyre like "sure" / "hell yeah join the dark side!!"

mochi is also like "...can i join? (ehe)"

and limes like "YOU THINK I SUCK??!!" and mochi has to explain like "NO no! but...our friends are in that club....i wanna be included

and eventually lime is also like "i wanna join this fucking club" and everyone else outside this friend group is like "??? what the fuck"

the idea of everyone being like "ahaha the lime sucks club is so dumb aha- wait." and lime is sitting with the lime sucks club

oscar gives her the nickname sumi / sumia and she hates it. but then coco also starts using it and also mochi somtimes and once you get a nickname in this group you cant escape it

"why sumi..." "because! i-ka-su-mi is too many syllabuls" "su-mi-ah isnt much better..."

always wearing long sleeve. even in summer when sweating. "ill suffer for fashion," she says

(a little bit more on lady mag lynn) mag lynn and tiramisu are actually incredibly good friends. one day she storms in pretending to be all bad like "what an ugly little shop. whats this i hear about your daughter harassing my guild?" and tiramisu is like "yes an ugly little shop suited for an ugly old hag like yourself! my daughter can beat your guilds ass any day." with a smile, and 2 seconds later theyre like omg i missed you so much!!! you never call me anymore!!

ikasumi isnt mag lynns daughter, but mag lynn lowkey treats her like a daughter. regardless, ikasumi wont get the butterflys power when mag lynn passes it on since shes already an ink mage and it cant be overridden. ikasumi will also be in the guild of whoever it is mag lynn choses the next butterfly witch to be

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

What about number 48 (dancing with each other) with Peter 1 and Peter 3?

48. Dancing with each other

“Wh—always—sic—ones?” Peter One asked out of the blue, only half audible through Peter Three’s music. Anyone without enhanced hearing would have missed his voice entirely. Trying not to look or sound too exasperated at the disturbance to his flow, he paused the playlist and pried his headphones off to hook around his neck.

“Come again?”

“Sorry, I was just wondering…why do you always listen to your music with headphones?”

“…The same reason you listen to yours through earbuds? Cos that’s what they were designed to do?”

“Yeah, duh, but I mean it’s always in your headphones; you never just let it play for everybody to enjoy. Then if we want to talk to you, we basically have to yell and you get all annoyed because we interrupted. You could just have it running in the background while we talk or whatever.”

Peter Three’s brows furrowed. “Wouldn’t the noise be a distraction or a disruption for you?”

“Well, I don’t know about Peter Two—we can ask him when he gets back, I guess—but I wouldn’t mind it.” A bittersweet smile briefly crossed his face. “Mr. Stark would have music going all the time when we worked in the lab together. It didn’t really matter the genre or anything. When we were first getting to know each other, it kinda helped the pauses in conversation not get too awkward.”

“Is it awkward for you with me? Are we still at ‘awkward’?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s like, I get to share my universe and culture and interests and stuff with you guys all the time but I rarely ever get to know about your world and the stuff you care about, except when it’s a big hyperfixation and you’re infodumping. I-It’d just be nice if it felt like you trusted me enough to share more often.”

“Peter, I trust you with my life.”

“Yeah, I know…when it’s in danger, obviously, but when it comes to the little, random, everyday life stuff, you probably know a lot more about me than I know about you, which makes me feel awkward about myself because you know where to connect and I don’t. It’s like I’m…” He let out a frustrated breath. “Like I’m not trying hard enough or something, like I haven’t done enough to show that I care about you as much as you care about me, so you don’t trust me.”

After a minute or two of mulling it over, Peter Three pursed his lips, trying to puzzle his words out carefully. “It’s not like that, it’s not about not trusting you. It’s about not…boring you. Or disappointing you. Y-You’ve never really straight up asked about any of the little things about my life so I figured you didn’t really want to know. My life back home isn’t much anyway.” 

He waved off Peter One’s noise of protest. “It’s really not. My world’s been pretty empty for a while now; there isn’t anything interesting to say. I get up, I eat whatever, I patrol, do odd jobs, come home, clean myself up, go to bed. Rinse and repeat. Spider-Man was the only thing I really held onto all that time. Other hobbies and interests and…fun haven’t really been a thing until now that I have you guys to remind me. I’m only just now catching up on everything my favorite bands have released in the past few years.”

“Oh.”

“But I…I think I’m enjoying this song so far,” Three added after a small hesitation, unplugging his headphones so he could turn the sound up. “I can start it over if you wanna listen too, see if it’s any good.”

Peter One’s downcast eyes lifted at that, tentatively hopeful. “…Mhmm. That’d be nice.”

Halfway through the album, the volume had been cranked to its maximum, every shrill, sharp crescendo sweeping their prior somber mood further and further away. By the time Peter Two came through the door, he would find Peter Three skidding across the back of the couch, riffing with passion on an air guitar, while Peter One spun and swung and somersaulted and howled along to screamer lyrics he didn’t know.

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

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

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

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

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”