#ill probably make more posts talking about this when i figure out a better name than Karnate (which i like but know sounds kinda not great)

[gophergal]

Talk about ur au man, if it dont make sense cause you need to explain it, explain it more!!! That means ur talking about ur au more!!!

Alright I legit didn't see this before? Somehow???

Ok so basically, I've been working on a Mortal Kombat AU/Rewrite/whatever that I've been calling MK: Karnate (that's a working title, I need to figure out something more elegant). Legit all I want to do with it is take the parts of the franchise I like and smash them together like a stew

The post this ask was in reference to (I think) was because I had been figuring out how I wanted to incorporate the Kombat Kids in this timeline

(got kinda long winded about it. Oops!)

Now, for Jin, Cassie, and Jacqui this isn't too much of an issue. I mostly just want to give them more interesting stuff to do that sets them apart from their predecessors. Takeda however...

Well Kenshi is much younger than the rest of the Klassic Krew in this AU. Around the time of DA, he's 22. Cassie and Jacqui were born just after MK4 (which i think is best placed in 1994) and would be 8-ish. I think you can see the problem

So honestly my options for Takeda were either Kenshi being an extremely young father (which makes me uncomfy) or T himself being younger than his peers (not ideal). So he's not Kenshi's son anymore.

He's still related to him, and inherited the latent telepathy of the Takahashi clan. Suchin Takahashi is still his mother, but she was a former Shirai Ryu who married a distant relative of Kenshi's. Takeda's father was killed at some point (perhaps at the hands of the Red Dragon) and, in pursuit of vengeance, Suchin became a vigilante.

Kenshi, while working for SF, learns that the Red Dragon is preparing to kill her and it mostly follows the way it went in the MKX prequel comic.

Sensing the telepathic potential in the tiny Takeda, Kenshi decides that the best place for him would be with the last remaining Shirai Ryu. After all, in this AU I have Scorpion (and Sub-zero, of course) in a loose mentor role for Kenshi, so it's not weird that he'd trust Takeda with him.

This all boils down to Kenshi being more of a distant Older Brother to Takeda than a Deadbeat Dad, with Hanzo being allowed to actually be acknowledged as Takeda's surrogate/adoptive father.

I just think it's neat :3

#gopher rambles #mortal kombat #mk au #also Frost is 17-18 at the time and has big Antagonistic Younger Sister energy toward Kenshi but dotes on Takeda (but would never admit it) #none of this is fixed though and I'd rather start with fleshing out the earlier parts of the timeline :P #ill probably make more posts talking about this when i figure out a better name than Karnate (which i like but know sounds kinda not great)

[thetavolution]

Modern Day AU

I spent a moment to think what everyone would be up to in a modern day AU.

Astarion: He was pre-law when he got caught up with Cazador. It's less a vampire spawn situation and a more straightforward abuse situation. I think in the AU he was also much younger when Cazador found him. Once he breaks free of Cazador, he might go back into law. He'd end up in therapy and he'd probably have to take a step back to re-evaluate what he wants in life.

Gale: Of course he's a professor. With magic off the table in this particular AU, he'd probably teach as many subjects as they'd let him. Students would constantly have deja vu seeing him in so many classes. He'd be teaching somewhere like Cambridge or Oxford. The subjects that came to mind were English, History of Art, Linguistics, Philosophy, and for reasons I can't explain, German.

Shadowheart: Her ass would be in a cult. She was kidnapped into some kind of Gloriavale situation as a kid. She'd eventually get a taste of freedom and leave the cult for good, especially if a Tav comes her way. Then she'd write a tell-all book and do a lot of Ted Talks about it. As she got older, she'd become more reclusive. She'd write books from her little countryside house full of animals.

Halsin: Halsin would still be a tree-hugging hippy. He'd have an environmentalism related job, like wind turbine technician, environmental technician, or solar installer. (I imagine he'd want something very hands on.) He'd 100% be part of a nudist colony. He'd still be poly, and he'd be very choosey about who he lets into the polycule.

Lae'zel: She'd go to university where she'd be expanding her world. It would force her to unpack her unhealthy home life is. She was probably raised in a jingoistic family. After discovering the power of friendship and self-discovery, she'd make better choices for herself. She'd still be INCREDIBLY disciplined so I imagine she'd be an athlete. Either she'd do professional rugby or MMA. She might do pro wrestling. She wouldn't join the theatrics on purpose. They'd just tap into her natural persona for her character.

Karlach: She worked for Gortash before he made a name for himself in politics. I'm still trying to work out exactly what would happen to her. I imagine he framed her in this universe and she spent 10 years in prison instead of Avernus. Now she's out and wants revenge... but also would love to get her life back. Possibly she has a chronic illness that, if untreated, could kill her. It's not a 1-to-1 for her heart situation, but close.

Jaheira: She refuses to ever retire from her work. She's been a part of almost every humanitarian world org that'll have her, like The Peace Corps. She now runs her own organization that travels the world for humanitarian efforts. She's a widow and she's still the mother to several adopted children.

Wyll: He was on track to make his father proud. He was going to Oxford to study politics until he realized how much he hated it. His father is the mayor of a major city. I'm hesitant to say London because it feels too obvious. Instead, Wyll drops out to pursue humanitarian work. This is where his path crosses with Jaheira as he joins her organization. His father just doesn't get it and they're at odds over it.

Minthara: Military brat who grew up to join the British Military. In her off time, she's in the BDSM scene.

Orin: She is either running a true crime podcast or being talked about on one. Either that or she's a CEO of a drug company a la The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).

Gortash: This dude is running as a Tory and you know it. He left a huge trail of problematic behavior on his Twitter. He made an anonymous Reddit account to post relationship problems on, but everyone figured out it was him almost immediately.

Barcus: This poor man is so tired. He never found his "dream" and he's been going from job to job for decades. After he starts to stand up for himself, he opens an online store based on all his interests and thrives.

I might do more later, but this is all I could think of for now.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 modern au

[daineic-art]

-taps mic- Is this thing on?

Okay uh

Hi everyone!

It’s been a… long time since I’ve been actually active, hasn’t it? Well- I have a few explanations if you’d like to sit down and hear them.

To make a really long story short, I fell out of love with SSO. The game was not fun for me anymore and I found no joy in it due to multiple reasons. My own general drama moments, there were multiple things the company did, different things I got into, etc.

The biggest thing (now don't laugh I know how stupid this sounds in relation to Star Stable) was trauma. Yes, trauma. When you've been groomed using a game you've loved since you were 9 years old… you kind of stop playing that game. I resented this game for literal years due to trauma and SSO didn't help themselves by making some dumb decisions. But I was also a kid with trauma I didn't know how to handle. I can't even pinpoint exactly when everything happened, but I know it was around my mid-teens, and has been years since. I have done a lot of soul-searching and development since then because, wow, people can change! Some developments include; I started going to college, didn't like it, and I dropped out. I quit my very awful retail job and got something more akin to my field of study. Then finally, probably the most important one, I got out of an abusive relationship that I got into due to desperation. I'm in a new one with someone I genuinely care about and, frankly, want to spend the rest of my life with. It's insane how one person can open up your eyes so much and help you truly heal and change.

And because of that… I want to say sorry to those I might have hurt when I was still young and hurting. I know trauma isn't always an excuse but when it's all you know and you don't know how to control those feelings you are extremely volatile. I'm sorry to the friends I pushed away, I understand why you left. I'm sorry to the friends who stuck around and had to help me but I am also thankful for you. I'm also thankful to my audience who probably has 0 clue what I'm even talking about! I'm also sorry to those who had to witness my crippling hyper-fixation on You-Know-Who. I promise I'm over that LOL (while I still might draw That Specific Man, I am no longer mentally ill about him)

But why am I talking about this? Why all this deep conversation over a game where you ride around on a horse? Because I want to set my own record straight for myself and I want to start with a clean slate. This might involve a blog name change, maybe even a blog cleanse. But it starts here, with this post. And I'm really hoping this is the start to something better. I won't be posting right away as I want to get my own lore in order but I figured putting something into the world announcing my return (or that at least I've dropped my malice for the game) would be a good start.

I hope yall stick around! Lots of love from Sam 🦌🌿💚

#sso #star stable #star stable online

[firespirited]

It has been brought to my attention that people can't know me unless I let you in. You're not mind-readers or actively remembering every detail. So let's get vulnerable *awkward thumbs up*

Here are some answers to not frequently asked questions:

You can use my real name, it works for me, Saffy's a chosen name for online (and offline if people struggle with pronunciation). I like both.

Don't worry about french timezones. I sleep 14 hours a day, awake about 12, resting for about half of that. I do have to go AFK regularly to do household stuff and rest, but if i'm online it's ok to assume i'm around =)

I can't drive. Haven't learned. Finally open to the idea though.

I don't have a DNI and don't talk about squicks and stressors because Tumblr has good curation options that i use extensively: So if I don't engage with a post, it could be that it contains a specific word. Things I haven't been able to filter but can set off a spiral are gun ownership 'for protection' (science says nope). Disability and labour (specifically the idea we have to be productive and also the fact that many disabled folks are maimed by attempting work). Breath play (extremely dangerous), sloppily defined 'kink' and ill-defined long term relationships. The word glioblastoma makes me cry. Tween pregnancy, death from childbirth, covid, long covid and various aspects of rape culture get greylisted at more difficult times.

I'm ace but have no issue with erotica and nudes or most sex scenes. Doesn't do much for me, doesn't disgust me most of the time. However, I can't stand products of the porn industry: zero interest in watching the adventures of a near disembodied penis in a woman who's clearly performing. You can be sex positive, support sex work and still see the industry as detrimental. Stunt and porn performers deserve so much better.

I'm currently more financially stable than ever. It's also not much at all. Enough to choose + buy my own food and clothes. Enough to have savings for a dog's vet expenses and someone to give her 15-minute walks. It's precarious and at the whims of having a really good doctor (she's retiring soon) but it's been nice to not be scared all the time. Lily the dog is my most precious luxury and worth it.

I went a decade only seeing a GP for emergency antibiotics after medical trauma. I had to put on makeup, drink lots of sugar to stay sat upright during the visit and pretend to be weller than I was to not get put in a psych ward because he didn't "believe" in autoimmune illnesses in the young, despite being cleared by a psychiatrist and a weekly psychotherapy session for 3 months. Getting healthcare and getting it paid for has been a mixture of very good luck and a long-term uphill battle (huge amounts of online research).

I'm probably not autistic (the online science tests point towards ADHD, you could probably armchair dx that from a few posts!) but use the term 'on the spectrum' because I've been perceived as autistic since childhood, especially when I'm happy or comfortable. Can't figure out if how I identify internally matters more than how I'm seen. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm often assumed to be a lesbian. eh.

I can be easily gaslit so long as it's a very slow boil. But if pushed to think about it, a core self that I've built in the past few years emerges suddenly to give me the rational overview. The clarity of that view is brutal. just brutal. Makes me question everything about myself for a while. I feel like someone trying to walk next to a car blaring 'oonst oonst' music trying to not match the beat in steps but falling into it anyway.

I'm allergic to cats but not exclusively a 'dog person'. Papaye slept just outside the door in a dog transport cage after Christmas while upstairs neighbour was busy. I just think cats are neat, they seem fine with me.

I can't explain why the main hobby ended up being dolls, it just clicks: they're bite sized and candy coloured and cute, there are so many crafting and art options for doll collectors, always loved repair. I feel very lucky to have found such a lovely community and i'm constantly getting into new crafts, new stories and making new acquaintances because it's a place where dolls get to be just one facet for connection.

I'm going to be 41 in april, my fave flower is daffodils, my fave plant is moss, all colours are nice: pastel rainbows and shades of green from lime to teal make me happiest.

'manifesting' is my current bugbear, it's stupid, it's harmful, it's just world theory repackaged, did I mention it's stupid?

I don't like onions and garlic, not unless they're super in the background. I respect the allium lovers and can (and do) put up with the smell daily but really dislike the taste. Same with coffee except that smells amazing.

Emoticons and emojis have made typing more like real language to me, I speak with my hands and accentuate words and even emote at the screen while i'm writing. I don't find it childish, not even gifs or memes, just an extension of language.

I've changed my mind about David Fincher in the past 5 years: brilliant director yes, not great at human stories after all.

If you feel like sharing your own, let this be your prompt. 💜

#saf #long post #getting to know each other

[indecisive-dizzy]

I’m sorry if my rambling gets annoying, I just love talking about my silly au and I need to actually make some posts or maybe even a side blog about this au so i can ramble on and on about this without invading you ask box ^^

Daisey is part of the gardening club and the photography club in this au, that’s where they meet Frank and become best friends

Howdy is the heir to the Osborn company and he’s in the same grade as Daisey and Frank. Frank and Howdy are brothers in law, Howdy choosing to attend Frank’s school so he can feel more normal

Eddie and Daisey were close when they were little, but they drifted apart as Eddie befriended the more popular crowd (Barnaby, Wally, Julie, etc)

Eddie is closeted gay, has a crush on Frank and pretends to be in a relationship with Julie as a cover

Julie is closeted bisexual and genderfluid, maybe has a crush on Daisey?? She pretends to date Eddie, they’re just good friends that cover for each other

Howdy becomes the Green Goblin (Green Butterfly/other cooler sounding name) because he wanted to further his family’s research and acted on impulse by experimenting on himself

Howdy idolizes Misumena/Daisey and finds their powers and their superhero-ness incredible, but as the Green something he obsesses over finding out how they gained their powers, openly talking about dissecting them to figure it out

That totally doesn’t scare Daisey, who is literally just a teenager who got superpowers by a spider biting them

Howdy and Daisey are foils of each other, specifically in the area of grief

Daisey lost her little sister Evelyn to a carjacking criminal, while Howdy lost his little sister Lizzy to an illness he was trying to find the cure to but failed to

Daisey tries to help people, while Howdy ends up hurting people

Also they’re both technically orphans, (Howdy’s parents focus more on the company than him, Daisey’s parents work most of the time to be able to provide for their daughters but that costs them time with their children)

Flora basically raised Daisey and Evelyn, she figures out pretty quickly what’s happening with Daisey but let’s them open up to her first

Frank becomes a villain after Lizzy’s death and Howdy seemingly going insane trying to figure out Misumena and what they are

Frank doesn’t die, but he does end up with a ton of injuries and has to be on a wheelchair for a while after the fight

Idk what to do with Howdy but I don’t think he’s arrested, poor bug just needs some help

Eddie and Frank end up together, and Julie tries to be nicer to Daisey near the ends after seeing Eddie being with who he really loved

I only watched the first movie, but I think Doctor Octopus is Home and Wally is involved somehow (possibly as an assistant/minion?)

My other ocs are there too, Wallace being a close friend of Daisey’s in the photography club, but they don’t have major roles

The closest think to a big oc role is Andreas’s mother being the one to show and teach the students about the spiders, along with the one that bites Daisey

Kinda random but I think Julie and Daisey audition for a play at the school that Sally (being the student director/theater club leader) is putting on, and that leads to Daisey being Julie’s understudy and Julie asks them to practice lines with her after school together as a date so they can be perfect at the role in case Julie can’t perform

I’ll post on my acc about this AU eventually, but I’ll probably reblog these asks there and make a proper tag for it if anyone doesn’t wanna see it :,3

Oh this is developing amazingly! I like the brother in law choice for Howdy n Frank!

Closeted Eddie n Julie is actually an amazing take I love that,, I love how Eddie and Frank still get together

Howdy could go to a rehabilitation center i think it's called? the prison that's not a prison and actually focuses in helping those in there. He stays until he's mentally better

also love how Daisey and Howdy are foils of each other,, that's actually so cool and clever and makes some of the best hero-villain dynamics

#gah i love this!! #so many cool thoughts n ideas #neon child #dizztalkstoomuch #welcome home au #moot ocs

[quietbluejay]

Unremembered Empire 1

Ghost time

timeline datum: nearly 2 years since Calth

hey I'm proud that's an actual rational thing to do here

rational character actually acting in a rational manner when encountering the supernatural

lol he's repealed the edict of nikaia

heh

that's a take on Hamlet, I guess

okay WHAT i thought the Emperor explicitly told them nothing about the mere existence of Chaos

there is a LOT to unpack about Rob here

where do i even start

guilliman is extremely stabbable. Probably why people keep stabbing him!

with the implication that, he thinks his brothers have been found wanting

also i know everyone talks about this guy as best marriage material out of the primarchs but this man should NOT become a father without some serious character development

okay you know what i am going to seriously evaluate every primarch and see who has the least/most red flags

[the list has been redacted on account of me already getting clowned on on discord but maybe I will post it at some point. I stand by 40K Lion being the best option and Perturabo being the worst of the guys with all their brains]

moving along!

yeah this is really Guilliman's way of coping, huh

THE EMPEROR DIDNT HAVE A FALL BACK PLAN idk can we call guilliman's relationship with the emperor "guilliman gaslights himself into thinking the emperor is much better than he actually is"

AND YOU ALSO DID NOT FUTURE PROOF ANYTHING EITHERRRRRRRRR note from future bluejay: and that really is one of his biggest problems isn't it

this is kind of cute though he calls her "mam"

no one expects the Iron Warrior Inquisition!

oh it's a specific dude I've heard of this guy also warhammer chronic illness character strikes again!

so he's calling them from another planet

that's a very exact number

and more than 2 years

a traitor named Barabas huh also, Iron Warrior with a spine

I do feel as if Dantioch is looking forwards to it, despite nominally being on the same side as the Fists

OwO

squints nine months and now it's born maybe i've just spent too much time in transformers this better not become a Thing Abnett I really do not want to have two nickels here for mpreg I swear if Guilliman knocks up a planet I'm going to throw hands (okay I'll be honest I am joking around here, of all the things I didn't like about MTMTE the pregnancy stuff did not bother me nearly as much as most of the other things it's just kind of a funny background detail. Except the Overlord birth scene that was absolutely cursed)

so his adoptive dad wanted to Make Ultramar Great Again

and guilliman did lol so it's just a cycle of reconquering the five hundred worlds lmao (looks at dark imperium)

so the Pharos is a weird thing built by aliens and they couldn't figure out what it did

technobabble time

oh huh over to some Space Wolves

fun

so like what happened to their gellar fields

you know if i had a nickel for every time i read a wh40k book where an iron hand was besties with someone from another legion i'd now have two nickels

interesting

Abnett's writing has definitely become less clunky

ngl this guy (Kleve) seems like one of the most well-adjusted Iron Hands I've run across

me reading Ahriman novels

:) :) :)

Image limit hit once again! TBC...

#bluejay reads warhammer #warhammer 40k

[goodfully]

okay ive never used tumblr before so i dont really know how posts are typically formatted, however, i do just want to use this mainly to word vomit so! jumbled messy thoughts on brothers karamazov, books five and six:

ive only read up until here so far, but im pretty sure that this is my favorite part of the entire book. the contrast is so insane, i adore dostoevsky. book five was so dense with heavy cynicism and doubt and followed book six being so reassuring and calm. part of me wishes that i was able to read both parts immediately after the other hahaha i also think that anyone that wants to read the brothers karamazov but does not want to read the brick of a book it is, they should read books five and six! just the chapters focused on ivans and zosimas perspective of faith, i mean.

i think that the idea that “the world is so evil, there is no way a benevolent god could have created it” is probably one of the main reasons ive been so unwilling to believe that there is a god, and its one of the main things that ivan was explaining to alyosha in book five. its so hard to accept that any amount of suffering is going to be worth whatever this all is. and yet… my goodness. humanity needs god? whether it is god that created humankind or humankind inventing god out of necessity… and just like ivan, i think ive always believed that believing in god would heal me somehow, that ill finally understand how to be alive as a human being when i do... the need to know what it was all for!

also the sticky little leaves part that ivan said!!! “i want to live, and i do live, even if it be against logic, tho i do not believe in the order of things, still the sticky little leaves that come out in the spring are dear to me, the blue sky is dear to me, whom one loves sometimes, would you believe it, without even knowing why” real real real. and ahh, alyosha responded something like how you can only understand lifes meaning after you love life (before logic)… which makes sense but yk, i always thought it was the opposite, that i had to understand lifes meaning in order to love life and be happy, but it was a very hopeless and sad conclusion. so this made me feel better honestly.

agh… and the whole “grand inquisitor” poem was so dark and insane, it tore me to shreds. i actually dont know what to say, except maybe now i understand why its the most famous chapter in the book.

i adore ivan and i adore alyosha and i adore their relationship. the way they speak to each other with love and respect for the other, even tho they believe in totally opposite things. im not sure about alyosha bc ivan was doing most of the talking, but my impression is that they were searching for answers from the other, they really do love each other. “tho im terribly fond of one russian boy named alyosha” sobs. “i thought, brother, that when i left here id have you, at least, in all the world” cries. “so alyosha, if indeed i hold out for the sticky little leaves, i shall love them only remembering you. its enough for me that you are here somewhere, and i shall not stop wanting to live. is that enough for you? if you wish, you can take it as a declaration of love” weeps.

okay about the zosima chapters… the thing is that even tho i have a lot of thoughts and feelings regarding faith, i am not a religious person, so i do wonder how someone who is christian would feel reading this book. for me tho… reading these chapters somehow made me feel the closest to having faith in anything ever hahaha… i dont think i care more about “gods truth” or anything, but just… i think ive been isolating myself way too much and thinking that everything must be done and figure out how to experience the fullness of life by me alone. and then zosima hits me with a “everywhere now the human mind has begun laughably not to understand that a mans true security lies not in his own solitary effort, but in the general wholeness of humanity.” and i believe that, i do! esp with how much individualism and capitalism stinks up this place. but i forget when it comes to myself i think…

i think my favorite sections from the zosima chapters are the ones about praying, loving, and judging others. uhm i dont pray, altho i think its mainly due to the fact that i do not know how to pray, and its not like zosima explains what praying is like exactly… but his words make me think that its just a very personal thing..? ahh anyway, the lines about love love love. “love man also in his sin, for this likeness of gods love is the height of love on earth” and “if you love each thing, you will perceive the mystery of god in things. once you have perceived it, you will begin tirelessly to perceive more and more of it every day. and you will come at last to love the whole world with an entire, universal love”… lives in my mind constantly now, its crazy its crazy i dont understand why his words mean so much to me. dostoevsky gets me, he really does.

ofc theres so many good lines from zosima, and this one probably isnt that great of a line compared to the many others, but to me at least, i started crying here hahaha it was pretty much at the very end of book six: “but woe to those who have destroyed themselves on earth, woe to the suicides! i think there can be no one unhappier than they. we are told that it is a sin to pray to god for them, and outwardly the church rejects them, as it were, but in the secret of my soul i think that one may pray for them as well. christ will not be angered by love. within myself, all my life, i have prayed for them, i confess it to you, fathers and teachers, and still pray every day.” ahh!!! im not even religious, and tbh ive not felt much when someone tells me they have prayed for me, but… maybe its bc i hate how mentally ill i am and hate how much i self sabotage and destroy myself, but some fictional monastery elder saying that he prays for and loves someone like me??? i cried real tears.

im probably being very dramatic, but after reading the zosima chapters esp towards the end of book six, i felt… so much love? i felt so loved. and yet also somehow guilt for not loving the world enough and not believing in mankind enough. i have to accept the world and of humanity and of myself, and i must love, oh how i must always love! zosimas such unconditional and undifferentiated love is so important to me, i dont know what to do… i think that reading this book has done more for me (regarding faith in the world and everything) than anything else has hahaha. it feels so silly bc im not even halfway done with the book yet and i already feel that this is the most important book ive ever read. its also funny bc you read the little paragraph on the back of the book and the first sentence describing the book is that this is a murder mystery (the actual murder hasnt even happened yet!) hahaha i love this book truly truly.

#reading #the brothers karamazov

[okamixxiii]

Elijah 01

Being on tumblr makes me wanna feel more homely and less professional and then I suddenly remember I can just like,, lore dump anytime I want and post out of a time schedule just like back in 2014. Anyways someone on Deviant Art asked about Elijah! So ill be chatting about him in this moment. Cant say today because LMAO Ill probably be back on here later talking about another oc.

I dont really talk about him as much as I should and I have very few content of him in it. Truth is I purposely dont really expand on him as much as to try and bend/taint his character that I fleshed out for him to be. Its something that happens quite often when I try to dive too deep and I find that by a fault a lot of my characters end up feeling the same-- to me at least. So its a preventative measure.  Here IS what i have about him though: Elijah Alan Spence, Agent Spence, Code name Black Rabbit, or for some: Eli!  He’s an elite agent that has worked his way up through T.K.E.A ranks (ill make a t.k.e.a thing later just check lore tag or somn before I actually decide to learn how to structure my text posts). Although he’s an elite agent dont think that his views align with what T.K.E.A is doing. Hes mostly a ‘good’ guy wrapped up in bad things type deal since I love doing that for some reason.  The initial belief was that he could work his way up and change it that way but its clear that because of him being brought into the agency as only an agent that there was a dead end when it comes to working yourself up to more ceo levels. The highest you can go would be what he is; an elite.  When he realized that was also when he realized that T.K.E.A basically silences any defective agents so there was no way to change things without getting himself murdered. So he was put in a space where he had to continue his job while figuring out how to fix things undercover.  Unfortunately until Chris (when T.K.E.A really started fucking up) there wasnt anything that was really pushing him to just make the jump without thinking.    Now I know that sounds weak ended on his part but let me explain something:  Elijah was very very inspired by tah-dah! 

BBC Sherlock! *1# on all time favorite and comfort shows to watch and HAS seen it 10 times in total. No, Im not joking.*

So if you picked up on this, congratulations! Here's a cookie. Now that means in this he has a very similar qualities as Sherlock Holmes that he cannot operate without thinking things through. Not until a time really calls for it. I am NOT saying that Christian Edens is his John, gods no. In fact his “john” actually was his partner (in the work sense) died at a job.  Its just more or so the situation with Chris was a final straw, one that really made Elijah say ‘enough is enough!’. He may seem brief and brutally honest on the outside that often makes him come across as an asshole but on the inside he truly does have a heart for those in need and a drive to stride for something better for everyone. Its just he will be doing it in his own way and gods forbid if anyone tried to change his direction he laid out for himself. Hes very stubborn. 

Elijah took the cards he was dealt with and made the absolute most of them of what he could. It just, wasnt enough at the time.

Hes highly intelligent, though bit rough around the edges when it comes to socialization. Like Sherlock again as his inspiration, he can make quick deductions but has a hard time keeping his mouth shut when he makes those deductions. Not everyone enjoys his honesty and way of ‘no bullshitting’.  Just because he has a heart doesnt mean he isnt a bit egotistical at times either. Its just not all the time. its like “hey look at how smart I am!”.  Other things to note is wow! Hes a rabbit shifter! His pronouns are he/him strictly and hes *sighs* straight. One of the very f e w ocs I have that are cishet. Though sometimes I do make some interesting hcs about him at least trying things. >_> Idk if ill put those here though. They are sexual in nature. LOL

#lore

[nonnydog]

Thats not as bad of a cliffhanger as I thought it would be, actually. Dgm Hallow reflection (+spoilers!) below. Long post!

(I wrote this right after I finished Hallow a week ago but Ive been ditzying it up so its late. May expand kn some points later)

(That screenshot is technically relevant bc its during Tykis speech which is a super important scene, but also I just. Really like how Hallow portrays Allen. Its all just very very pretty.)

Everything seems to be trying to set up complexity—obviously, thats obvious, agh.

Kanda views the Order as an enemy but works with them for Alma and to make up for awakening Allen/Nea. Tyki speaks to Allen about the duality (trinity?) of possessing innocence and being an exorcist and being a noah and being hunted by Apocryphos (who is innocence) and etcetcetcetc. Allen himself feels it, as he is confined and beat by the Order. An akuma lives (remains unsaved as well) because Link, representing the Order, confines him. His “Noahness” provokes his home, while his “Exorcistness” prevents him from allying with the Noah.

[is Link actually dead?]

A point I find interesting is that Allen wouldve probably went with Apocryphos if he hadnt killed Cross. He talks about how he can seperate Allen and 14, something which Allen definitely wants at that point because it would solve all his problems. When they first meet, Allen only hits Apocryphos and saves him from Tyki because he saw the memory of him murdering Cross.

[is Cross actually dead?]

The Alma Karma and Kanda arc SLAPPED. I read it several years ago, but…its just very well done. Tragic. I love it.

[Kandas not dead! Yo]

[Ill stop now.]

—

I actually really like Tykis speech to Allen and Allens choice to leave everything behind to figure out what the fuck he wants and what he is, on his own. Its… weirdly fitting. I wouldnt have thought of it, but I cannot think of a better direction for this story to go.

Its almost coming-of-age-esq. Everything is against Allen right now, even his own head. Im really excited to continue the manga from where Hallow left off. I know its still ongoing (and I dont have the money to buy more than a few volumes right now), but I heard Hallow ends at around vol22-23. Theres currently 27 volumes, I think. I really like this story and where its going.

—

Im sad at how little Lavi was in Hallow. He probably wouldve taken up too much time—they only had 13 episodes and it was mainly focused on Kanda and Allen (which I love!).

I also wanted more. Nea. Noah. Mana. I want to know all of the things about them. Allen was just about to speak with Nea, just try to understand him and talk a little, when Apocryphos came in and interrupted. Maybe we get a scene like that in the manga… though, its also difficult to tell. Nea is trying to possess Allen, he may not want to “chat.” I just want to know more about them.

—

Id like to talk a bit about Nea, Mana, Allen, Cross, and the Earl now… theyre a complicated bunch.

From what Ive heard online and from the 2006 anime+Hallow, heres what Ive figured out:

Cross knew Nea and Mana before Nea died. Nea died 20yrs before Allen was born. Mana and Nea are brothers (twin?), though I think Nea was the older one(?).

Mana went a bit bonkers after Nea died. Cross says he may have not even really remembered everything while he was raising Allen.

Allen is conflicted about Mana. Hes unsure if Mana loved “Allen” because he would be Nea or because he was Allen. (Points to dream where Allen is following Mana who keeps calling him the wrong name.)

Cross promised Nea he would look after Mana because Nea would rewaken near Mana eventually.

Nea is 14 and hes attempting to take over Allens mind. He wants to destroy the Earl and take over as the Earl (or at least thats what he told Earl).

The Earl, despite being the one to kill Nea when he betrayed him, still loves Nea very much. He desperately wants Nea back at his side. The other Noah, notably Sheril, are… uncomfortable with accepting the traitor.

Now, lets get into more sussy territory.

Mana is the Earl. Big “maybe.” They both wear top hats is my main evidence lol. Also Ive heard some things about it online.

Other notable things I saw in Hallow:

Allen was a little shit before Mana died. Cross notes this in the last episode of Hallow and we see some of it firsthand in earlier eps. Apparently, he adopted a lot of Manas traits (politeness and formal speech, notably) to deal with his grief.

Cross has dad energy for Allen. You cant take care of a child for that long and that intensely without some paternal instinct kicking in.

Similarly, Allen definitely felt some affection for Cross. Though their relationship is often joked as being terrible (and it certainly wasnt good, especially considering that Cross took in Allen so he could foster 14), Allen is hella pissed at Apocryphos for killing Cross.

The name thing—Cross says before Apocryphos kills him, something along the lines of “He didnt tell me his name was Allen when I met him.” Was this meant to imply his observation of Mana, or that Allen was never really Allen? Sighs.

Also, the whole Walker thing. Just very sweet in general.

Interesting that Tyki is the one to give Allen the “come to jesus” speech. Tyki is established to be a Noah who still really values and holds onto whats left of his human life, so he (to some extent) can sympathize with Allen more than other Noah. He tells Allen to leave every side and figure shit out himself, something which doesn’t immediately benefit Tyki, but will benefit Allen.

—

Theres an overwhelming sense of resisting/being uncomfortable with ones life being on a predetermined path. This is an fitting theme to introduce in a story that focuses heavily on religious aspects. God in dgm and hallow is an… odd figure.

#i wrote this! #dgm hallow spoilers #analysis #somewhat #2868

[hunterwritesstuff]

Hcs for Anti-Autophobia

Sure! Warnings ahead for mentions of past trauma, just a heads-up! Under the cut just in case!

(Ignore the sizing, tumblr is saying Fuck you to me rn-) Also, for context, Masky is Simon's criminal name lmao

🎃🎭 So right off the bat, these two are very much so helping each other heal, in a way.

🎃🎭 Simon's had issues with people either dating him as a joke or just flat-out seeing him as a way to have the "quirky mentally ill boyfriend".

🎃🎭 He's used to people giving up on him after two days because they can't handle his issues that he needs help dealing with.

🎃🎭 Then he meets Jonathan Crane. A man who, despite being The Scarecrow, treats him with..semi respect.

🎃🎭 He encountered Jono during a crime run to a chemical plant, as he heard an anonymous tip that there was a way for him to be able to pay for the therapy he needed to get better.

🎃🎭 Simon really does want to get better, but his job is slow and not the best paying, so he mostly uses the checks from work to pay for rent and utilities.

🎃🎭 The amount he heard about was enough to pay for therapy for a while, so he jumped at the opportunity, putting on his mask and setting out to go steal the money.

🎃🎭 The two run into each other because, randomly, their paths were to the same area.

🎃🎭 Scarecrow, not knowing who he is, demands to know WHO he is and WHY he's at the EXACT SAME PLACE HE IS ROBBING.

🎃🎭 Then the alarms go off. Scarecrow looks around for an exit while Simon panics.

🎃🎭 Scarecrow goes to leave, but something keeps him back. Something about Masky...intrigues him.

🎃🎭 He groans and, begrudgingly, goes back and grabs Masky, taking him back with him to his hideout before Batman shows up.

🎃🎭 Timeskipping ahead a bit, the two slowly got better with their relationship, and getting closer and getting to know each other better.

🎃🎭 Scarecrow's first assessment of Simon is that he deals with a severe case of autophobia, the fear of being alone.

🎃🎭 In his talks with Simon, he can pinpoint a few reasons as to why this might be; both of his parents worked, so he never really had a parental presence in his life(He mostly got dropped off at daycares until he was school-age), and he was either bullied or ignored.

🎃🎭 The way Scarecrow helps him deal with this is to either tell him where he's going and let him know he'll be back as soon as possible, or bring him with him(mostly the latter.).

🎃🎭 Scarecrow notices occasional changes in how Simon acts when they're in high-stress scenarios, but shrugs it off as just Simon going into survival mode.

🎃🎭 The mask change is also probably to show he's in survival mode.

🎃🎭 The two are like, domestic criminals together.

🎃🎭 The best way to put them is that Simon is a wet cat, Jonathan has a warm blanket and hair-dryer :)

I have a bit more stuff figured out for them, but I don't wanna make this post too long lol hope ya enjoy!

#anti-autophobia #scarecrow x oc #scarecrow x simon #ask to tag #tw: absent parents

[caroldantops]

note from silver: this was not written by me but my lovely 🔑 anon!!! I had zero involvement and am just posting on their behalf ❤❤❤❤❤❤ and i would just like to say omg. omg its very good. so all praise should be directed at them!! [but u can send my way and ill post so they can see :)]

nothing i do better than revenge.

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

w/c: 2.8k

***= time skip

cw: 18+, mentions of cheating, brat reader, mean natasha (comes with her own warning), mdlg, mommy kink, d/s themes, choking/breath play, impact play (face slapping & spanking), crying kink, face riding, strap on use, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, implied legal age gap, strong language

you had long forgotten about the consequences of what you were about to do, because all you cared about was revenge. you knew they were cheating on you, with someone you didn’t even care to think about. but it didn’t matter right? you loved them, or you at least did. the only advantage you had right now was that they had no idea that you knew.

you approached their house and braced yourself for what was likely to happen. you weren’t there for them, no. their mother, natasha, was always incredibly sweet to you, arguably too sweet. but you could hardly say you cared. you felt the effects she had on you every time her eyes lingered on you, every time she was obviously making excuses to be close to you, to touch you, every time she called you “honey, angel, sweetheart” your heart sped up so quickly, it made you dizzy. you had known for a while how you felt about her, it was obvious. but naturally you pushed it away, of course you did. at least now, what you truly wanted makes for perfect revenge.

“hi sweetheart!” natasha said excitedly when she saw it was you at the door. walking through her house, you heard her call out “they’re not here, is that okay? you can wait for them if you want.” you attempted to resist her offer, but it was quickly followed with her worry and fear that something had happened.

“they cheated on me,” you finally admitted. natasha’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh. “i’m so sorry, honey. if there’s anything i can do-“ you quickly cut her off, trying to change the subject to anything but them. “it’s okay, honestly. i’m not even here for them.” natasha raised an eyebrow at you as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “oh? then who are you here for, sweetheart?” she responded, smirking at you. ”oh, i, uh-“ you started, struggling to explain. natasha walked over to you and grabbed your chin to look at her. “come on, y/n, tell me why you’re really here. i know you didn’t come all this way to talk.”

in all honesty, you didn’t know where to begin, but you knew there was no getting out of this, “i just noticed some things about you, things you do” you felt natasha smirk at you again. “oh yeah? and what do i do, sweetheart?” you let out a nervous laugh at what seemed to be her favourite pet name. “that, you call me things like that and you always stare at me- i just thought-“ you felt natasha move impossibly closer to you, “such a clever girl, aren’t you? did you figure that out all by yourself?” she chuckled at the way you responded, all flustered and blushed. something in you couldn’t stop ranting before it came out, when it did, it was too late to backtrack. “i just- i think about you a lot, i can’t stop actually. i can’t stop thinking about touching you and-“ the words came out so quickly, you could barely make sense of them. “so,” she began. “let me get this straight, you came all the way here in hopes that i’d fuck you?” you could try and deny it but you knew it was pointless. you knew exactly what you wanted and so did she.

“would it be so bad if i did? you asked so softly, you doubt she even heard. gripping your hips and pulling you into her, natasha starts kissing and biting your neck softly, “no, sweet girl. it really wouldn’t.” you have to remind yourself to breathe, as this whole ordeal feels like a dream. it’s hard to believe you actually went through with it. natasha’s hand gets lost in your hair as she pulls your head back to look up at her.

“do you want this?” she said softly, and you quickly responded with “yes. i want this, i want you.”

“good,” she sighed. because once i start, i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” you stared back into her eyes and whispered, “i don’t want you to stop.”

***

you left natasha’s house in the early morning, before she woke up. it felt like the right thing to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her all day. the teasing, the biting, the way she praised you, the way she had you whimpering “mommy… please, mommy i need it” over and over again. you were certain that the previous night was ingrained in your brain forever, and you adored every minute of it.

but right now, you had more pressing things on your mind, like exactly how this revenge on your, now ex, partner would go.

***

you felt natasha’s hand grip your shoulder and drag you to her car. you had just performed, a rather fitting, song in front of your ex partner, natasha, and most of the townspeople. your song of choice was “i fucked yr mom,” and maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it did get you what you wanted.

once you arrived back in natasha’s house, you knew it wouldn’t be long before she snapped. she took you by surprise as she pinned you against the wall with her hand around your throat. you barely had a chance to speak before she did. “what the fuck was that, huh? what the fuck are you playing at?”

“didn’t you like it, mommy?” you said with your eyes gleaming up at her, leaving her trying to calm herself before she spoke again. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, princess. you can’t just do shit like that.”

“oh can’t i? you didn’t seem to mind when i was-“ you spoke out, but was quickly cut off by her slapping you across the face. “this is not the time to play games with me, little girl. i’m gonna give you one chance to-“ you interrupted her with something that resembled “when will it be time for that, then? cause this is really boring.” she almost looked offended, shocked even, that you were talking to her in such a way. you honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her angry. definitely not like this, or directly at you. her sour mood could be felt from all around her, everything about her demeanour screamed “i’m furious and you’re making it worse for yourself.” granted, you probably should’ve stopped there, toned it down a little. but for some reason, you just couldn’t. you had to see how much it would take for her to snap. you wanted to see how far she was willing to go.

you watched as she tried to compose herself, taking deep breaths and almost trying to block you out. “when the fuck did you become such a brat, huh? i bet you thought about this every single time you came here, didn’t you?” you genuinely contemplated submitting for a second, but where’s the fun in that? “i don’t know, natasha. can’t you figure it out yourself?” you responded, blatantly yawning and mocking her. you knew you’d fucked up when you were met with her sweetest smile, “if you’re not in my bed and ready for me in two fucking minutes, this entire city is gonna know my name.”

***

it felt like an eternity before you heard natasha walk upstairs, and towards you. you figured that was a part of her plan, keep you waiting and needy, right? she definitely knew the effect she had on you, and knew how to use it to her advantage.

you knelt in the middle of her bed, and she seemed somewhat pleased that you followed at least one of her orders. apart from that, she continued to ignore you, shuffling through drawers. finally, she turned to pay attention to you, and gripped your face to look at her, “look at that, my little brat can obey me.” she almost scoffed at the sight of you, “you’re pathetic, you know that?” “not really, are you about to enlighten me, natasha?” you snapped back.

“you’ve got everyone fooled, haven’t you, angel? they all think you’re so fucking innocent. i guess only i know the truth.”

“worked for you didn’t it? so what’s that then, natasha? you’re boring me again.” you watched as she reached for something you couldn’t see, “you know what, if you wanna act like a brat, i’m gonna treat you like one.” she huffed, before she put you over the edge of the bed, and cuffed your hands behind your back. “oh, fuck.” you mumbled in reaction. “see, here i thought that you were a precious, innocent little thing. turns out you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention.”

“aw, natty, did you figure that all out by yourself? you retorted, repeating last night's words back to her.

natasha’s hand came down on your bare skin with a slap, making you let out a whimper. “oh pretty baby,” she started. “let’s see how much of a brat you are when you’re all red and raw for me. you’re gonna count every single one, angel.”

she pulled you back up close to her chest, whispering “and trust me, sweetheart, we can keep recounting all night if you feel like messing up.” you accidentally let out another whimper, much to natasha’s amusement. “something to say, baby?” you couldn’t see her face, but knew she was almost laughing at you.

“are you gonna count for me?” you let out a small mumble that she couldn’t hear. “what was that? speak up, brat.”

“yes mommy!” you sounded so desperate, you both knew it. but what you didn’t know was how much natasha wanted this, had waited for this. you looked so perfect to her, bent over her bed and tied up just for her, and her alone. she knew getting you to submit to her would be oh so easy. sure, you’ll put on the act of the disobedient slut for a while. but she knew it was just that. an act. one that she will gladly force you out of.

“twenty!” you exclaimed, with tears streaming down your face, after she spanked you over and over again. “please, it’s too much, mommy.” natasha hummed and undid the cuffs, “aw, my poor baby. did mommy make you cry?” she cooed while turning you on your back. she had removed most of her clothes at this point and pushed you down onto the bed. she stroked the hair out of your face before asking, “can you tell me your colour, angel?” “green, mommy. i don’t wanna stop.” you whined. “that’s my good girl, because i am far from fucking done with you yet” her response made chills go down your spine, and you watched her straddle your face. “now, you’re gonna be a very good girl and make me cum before i even think about touching you, am i clear?”

“yes mommy, wanna make you feel good.” you whined, and natasha chuckled at how pathetic how sounded. “what? no bratty remark?” she teased before lowering down to your mouth. as soon as she did, you could swear this was heaven. her pussy looked so pretty glistening above you, you were almost proud of how wet you made her. you gently licked and sucked her clit, “cmon my slut, i know you can do better than that.” she groaned. you licked long stripes through her folds and became completely lost in her, the way her thighs lightly squeezed your head, the way she gripped your hair, the way her taste and scent was intoxicating. she was perfect, you were sure of it. she began to buck her hips and grind against your face once you sped up your pace. “oh fuck, angel, that’s it, right there, don’t stop.” she rambled, as if you would ever stop. “you see what happens to bad girls that disobey me?” she said, tightening her grip on your hair. “bad girls get used like mommy’s toys until they learn to be good again.”

“oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, princess. you wanna mommy to cum all over your pretty face? you gripped her thighs and pulled her pussy even closer to you as you sucked her clit, “oh my god, right there, don’t you fucking stop. i’m gonna- fuck!” she moaned and whimpered as she came above you. you continued licking and sucking her pussy while she rode out her high.

natasha climbed off you and reached for something. once she was back in front of you, she had a strap attached to her hips, and smirked at you as you whimpered at the sight. “see something you like, princess? she teased. you looked up at her and nodded, with heavy eyes and slightly open mouth. “you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” she hummed, lightly slapping your face “mommy’s pretty slut.”

natasha teased your slit with the strap, not quick pushing in yet. “you’ve been such a bad girl, haven’t you? i’m almost disappointed in you.”

“please, please mommy, i need it.” you begged. “oh, now you think you have the right to beg? i guess you’re dumber than i thought.” she teased as she pushed the strap all the way into you, making you whimper loudly.

“i’ve barely started, angel.” she cooed. “put on such a big show for me, and the brat can’t even take mommy’s cock. how pathetic.“

“no, no, i can take it, i swear, please! please give it to me, mommy.” you pleaded. natasha let out a low growl at your words, and began to thrust her strap deep into you. “where did my brat go, honey? you had such much to say earlier.” she was taunting you now, she knew it too.

“i just- fuck! please mommy, i’m so close. i just wanted your attention i swear.”

“oh i know, baby. you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention aren’t you? she continued to rock her hips into you, knowing exactly how close you were. “do you wanna cum, sweetheart? you wanna cum for mommy?” she asked.

“mhm yes, please mommy. please let me cum, i want it so bad.”

“no.” she abruptly pulled her strap out of you and stopped all her movements, making you whimper. “why did you do that, mommy?” you whined.

“why? did you really think i’d let you cum that easily? after the stunt you pulled tonight, you’ll be lucky if you cum at all.” natasha leaned in close to you, and whispered “show me how desperate you are for it.”

“no mommy,” you whined. “don’t wanna beg, please just fuck me.” she almost laughed at how pathetic you were. “i could fuck you all night, honey. that doesn’t mean i’d let you cum. now, come on, princess. don’t make a fool of yourself, tell mommy how badly you need it.”

“please give it to me, mommy, please. i’ll be your good girl, i promise. you don’t understand how badly i needed your attention, how badly i needed you. i won’t be bad ever again, i swear!” you could almost sob in desperation, you needed something, anything. “shhh, love. i’m right here, let me take care of you.” she whispered, before filling you all the way up with her strap. “mommy, it’s so so good, please i need- fuck” you whined, barely able to speak anymore.

“what, precious? what do you need?”

you tried your best to speak through breathy moans, “please play with my clit, mommy i need it” and natasha quickly obliged, circling your clit with her thumb. “oh my- fuck.” you gasped. natasha’s title left your lips like it was a damn mantra. you were completely intoxicated by her, the only thing left in your head was “mommy mommy mommy.”

“want you to cum for me, sweetheart. make a fucking mess on my cock right now.” she commanded. the world around you collapsed as you came, and you shook so hard, that you clinged onto natasha for any kind of stability. you felt her move around you, but couldn’t make out where she was, until you felt her lay next to you and pull you close to her. “there are you are,” she smiled softly at you. “hi mommy” you responded in a whisper. “hi precious girl, are you doing okay?” “yes mommy, i’m so good. can we sleep now, mama?” natasha pulled the blankets over the pair of you and placed gentle kisses on your forehead. “of course we can, sweetheart.”

you knew tomorrow would come with all of the questions, and none of the answers. but all that mattered was that you had natasha, and she had you.

#submission #natasha romanoff x reader #not mine #fic #smut #c: natasha #ITS VERY VERY GOOD KEY ANON #OH MY GOD #i love. #i feel like i got like an exclusive vip first look at this

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hello I'm the person who asked imagine reader fem x Gojo. with the Arcade music, I wanted anguish with a happy ending, thanks and sorry for the incomplete order.

Summary: Gojo has to come to terms with killing someone he cares about…again. (spoilers for Gojo’s past arc)

Notes: Okay, I wrote three different scenarios. This one that’s posted, a second about an open relationship falling through, and one with a terminally ill reader-chan. And hated them all (It’d help if he had more humility too, cause he’d need to crawl back in most everything I thought of, and I can’t imagine this man crawling back to anyone). So, it kind of turned into a character study. So, this is the one I liked best I think, or could at least piece together into something coherent. I might revisit that second plot though for something else.

Long story short: I tried. :,(

A broken heart is all that's left I'm still fixing all the cracks

Satoru never truly opens himself up to people. Sure, he’s sociable, the friendly demeanor and air of confidence he puts on that somehow manages to draw common people to him like fish on a line isn’t even a lie. Gojo knows he’s strong, knows he’s good-looking and charismatic. Even now, he can flash a smile to the nervous woman opposite him in the train car, the one that’s been staring at him for a solid 30 seconds, and have her number in half the time if he really wanted.

The brief connection following their interaction wouldn’t be the same as letting her close to him.

Satoru accepted and acknowledged that it’s probably for the best, seeing as there was never another person that he feels could understand him after the last one. That relationship made his life's complications even more jumbled than they were originally to the point where even he finds it hard to straighten sometimes.

He didn’t have time to figure out how to piece everything together to present them in a way that’d be digestible for another person to even begin to understand. Let alone the fact that there wasn’t anyone he thought was worthy to even spend the time collecting all the pieces of himself.

Yet when he touches the boundaries of Sendai, he reaches for his phone readily and searches for the characters that make up your name.

“(Name)-chan,” he greets cheerfully. “Guess who boarded off in Sendai. Since you’re in town, why don’t you come to Kikusuian with me? My treat.”

There’s a soft scoff on the other side of the line, and he can already sense this will be a fight. The same kind of teasing you do to each other every day as your voice comes through with faux disgust. “Are you trying to talk me into that zunda mess again?”

Satoru smirks, recalling the day the two of you first met. He took you to get something to eat as he did with almost everyone he meets, and you so quickly turned your nose up at his offer of the green and white mochi. Now, you seldom reject an offer from him, only give a little fuss for show.

“I’m telling you it’s good. Come on. You wouldn’t make me go alone, would you? What if someone tries to kidnap me?”

“They’d bring you back in five minutes.”

He visibly winces at your words. “Ouch. What did I do to deserve this today?”

“I’m kidding. I’m already on the way.”

“I knew you loved me.”

“Well, I figured if it’s the great Gojo begging me for my time, I couldn’t say no.”

Gojo pouts even if he knows you can’t see it. “I wouldn’t call it begging…but I’m glad you get the idea.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you make me wait, I’ll buy out the shop and not share one piece with you.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Better hurry. I’m already 10 minutes away.”

Gojo clicks off his phone. He finally releases a deep sigh, waves off his seat partner, and heads out to meet you at the shop before you can make good on your threat. It doesn’t take long to meet you at the shop. You already have a bag of goods in your hand and a smile breaks out over your face as soon as you see him walking up.

It makes him smile, too.

Even if this occasion isn’t one worth smiling about.

Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home

Satoru doesn’t let people close to him.

Not after losing his best friend.

The day Satoru last talked to Suguru, truly talked to Suguru, waxes and wanes in his mind. Normally, he’s able to shove it back and not think about it whatsoever. On rare occasions, it’s on the forefront of his mind to remind him why he chose the path he did to rewrite the sorcerer world. He’d contemplate on it during the quiet hours of the morning before everyone gathered in the dining hall for breakfast, before Utahime cracked a wisecrack about him being lost in space, and before Nanami attempted to avoid him out of fear that Satoru would drag him into whatever nonsense the older sorcerer was contemplating.

Then, he’d sense someone, invading the frozen outlining of space, the external and internal infinity, he purposely keeps between himself and others.

Satoru didn’t stop you immediately, unsure why it takes more than a picosecond to throw on his guard when he knows full well what you are. When you got close to touching him, he quickly halted your advance. He bent his neck back to look up at you from your position above him. Your hands were angled towards the black blindfold over his eyes, twitching in eagerness.

A smile started to form on your face.

“You’re slacking, Satoru. I almost got you this time,” you said. “What’s the matter—getting old?”

“Not at all,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I did it to lure you in,” he said, reaching up to poke your nose.

You pulled back with a pout. “Do you really not want to show me your famous technique? You always mention how pretty your eyes are unless…do you perhaps have a lazy eye you’re embarrassed about? Astigmatism?”

Satoru scoffed at your observation. He couldn’t hide the amusement you managed to draw out of him as you slowly slid your way over to his side of the couch. “Of course not. I have 120-120 vision,” he said, tapping his temple where the blindfold lies.

Your mouth hanged slightly, and your eyes widen. “Wait, Six Eyes isn’t literal, is it?”

He cackled at your dumbstruck look. “Of course not. But it’s funny you thought that.”

With a pout and a roll of your eyes, you plopped down on the seat next to him. He looked your way with a smile, but it faltered upon seeing your concern. “But seriously, it seemed like something was wrong. Do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

For a half-second, he almost contemplated saying yes but instead waved it off. “I’m fine, just thinking about what to eat for breakfast.”

You nod.

“Alright,” you said, and he expected you to drop whatever interest you had in him as you stood to your feet and stretched. “Whenever you’re ready then. I won’t force you, but I’m here if you ever feel like it.”

You managed to cut down the smile on his face, if only for a second.

I've spent all of the love I saved

We were always a losing game

Satoru wouldn’t describe himself as a cold person.

He cares about the wellbeing of others, has no problem that the world has to rely on him as the strongest, to do what needed to be done. Satoru simply refuses to have to rely on someone else for support if it can be avoided as getting too attached complicated things.

Yet you wormed yourself in there some way.

No matter how many times he told himself not to get too attached to you, no matter how he tried to keep a thin layer of distance between the two of you once he realized you were beginning to crack his domain, he still found himself seeking out your company.

It’s the first time since those years ago that he’s felt a spark for anyone else, something more than fleeting attraction or a way to entertain himself. Satoru already knows the two of you will never work even if he did play into those creeping feelings clawing around in desperate search for the little corner left in his heart for deeper emotions other than basic instinct and occasional human decency.

Satoru was a sorcerer, and you were a curse user.

An informer.

A traitor.

One he was assigned to bring in from your assignment for interrogation and subsequent execution. Probably because the higher ups knew you were stronger than you let on and more likely to punish Satoru himself, to torture him just a bit more since there was no way they could touch him themselves.

If anyone asked, he’d say he only found out recently about your traitor status, but he knew all along. That’s why he stuck so close to you in an effort to watch your movements. It was a bit of a game to see when you’d slip up on all that false information he’d feed you.

Satoru couldn’t pinpoint though the exact moment that being around you became his choice. When after you’d share with him about your life, about being the only member left of your massacred clan and wanting to do good by them, he’d share a little bit about himself that may have actually been true.

Satoru never got close to answering why you’d want to work with curses. You seem way too softhearted to want a world built around pure strength if the smile you gave him was anything to go by.

Grinning, you teeter the brown paper bag, the white spun handle nuzzled in the first bend of your finger as you hold it out to him.

“I told you I’d pay for us,” Gojo says, and you shrug.

“The line was getting long besides you bought me lunch last time anyway,” you remind him and head towards the door to find a place to sit and eat before Gojo suggests the two of you could walk around town a bit instead. You follow along the sidewalk with him, believing that he called you out for a reason. “So, what’s up? You didn’t call me out just because you wanted to get sugar.”

“I told you already I didn’t want to go alone,” Gojo explains as he opens up the bag and looks for the familiar packet of sweets.

You laugh. “What’s wrong? Your students not giving you enough attention?”

“Not at all. Kikufuku is simply better in the presence of a pretty woman.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t me you missed at all. You just needed eye candy to go with your store candy,” you respond as if offended but the small hum you make as you chew your mochi makes your anger a clear farce.

“Of course not. You knew what I meant. You’ve been in Sendai forever. I missed having you around.”

“Yeah. I missed you too. What brought you to Sendai anyway. You have a mission?” you ask him with curious eyes, and Gojo collects the familiar feelings, finds the right voice to put on, and the best smile for the situation as he brings his finger to his lips.

“It’s top secret.”

“Even from me?”

“Especially from you.”

You pout, playful and childish, and he wonders for a second what kind of face you’d make if you knew the truth about why you had been shipped to Sendai these past weeks and why he was truly here. It makes his heart ache in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, in a way he swore to himself he’d never let himself feel again. “I thought we were supposed to be friends.”

“We are.”

“Best friends?” you ask.

“2nd best friends,” he says. The spot in his heart for first was already taken by someone else, but there was also a special room that was for you that couldn’t be filled by his late best friend.

“Shame,” you murmur, walking slightly ahead of him, “Guess I’ll have to make Nanami my favorite after all since I’m only your second.”

“I’m way better than him in the friend department! Way funnier too,” Gojo complains, but the words feel like a lie on his mouth as he thinks about how you’d hang, head and body separated, those beautiful eyes blotted out with blood.

“I’m kidding.” You raise your hand and twist your fingers together, saying with a wink, “You’re a solid tie with him. But after tonight, you maybe move ahead of him. Maybe.” you tease but Satoru knows…he knows he’s your favorite.

And he enjoys the moment all the while trying to get the image of you cursing him with your final breath out of his mind.

All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

It isn’t far-fetched to say Satoru likes you. Loves even or at least the closest thing to love he’s ever felt and probably ever will.

It’s why he spends all night with you, hoping to give you one more good time where the two of you could be on the same side.

As you come up to the shrine on the edge of the downtown strip, he keeps questioning himself on why he hadn’t pushed you away more, why he hadn’t made a move to get rid of the threat you presented sooner.

“You’re right,” you tell him, finally finishing off the last of your snacks and stuffing the empty bag into the recycling bin. “Cream and zunda do go oddly well together.”

“I told you so,” he says cheerfully as you sit on a nearby stone bench together. Your head cranks up to look up at the sky as you comment on the shame of being unable to see the stars as dark clouds start to build up.

“Should probably head back and call it a night soon.”

“Probably,” Gojo agrees but he can’t help but think how true those words are for you. This would probably be your last night out once the school was finished with you, and he’d have to execute someone else he cares about.

It causes an ache in a small part of him he thought he sealed off long ago, that’s still desperate enough to open up, truly open, to another human being. Gojo slides his hands into his pockets while you release a deep sigh and begin to stare up at the little specks of stars that manage to peek through the cloud lining.

Satoru wishes the rain would hold off, that time would hold off a little longer so the two of you could make TikTok videos together again to stave off your shared boredom, maybe prank Nanami together before rating celebrities’ newest looks. He’d especially miss that pout you’d make when he’d poke your nose after catching you trying to bypass his infinity. He both hated and love those moments, because he did want to let you in but the idea of baring himself completely to you, being vulnerable, still made him uneasy for this exact reason. Yet he foolishly relished in your time together all the while resenting the fact that your fate would end up exactly like this.

Exactly like it always does when he makes a connection, no matter how small.

“Hey, Satoru…what would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” Satoru tenses and whips his head back in your direction. Seeing his reaction, you turn your head back to the sky and mumble, “It’s alright if you don’t want to. I was just wondering.”

Gojo scowls, his eyes focusing on your face. Specifically, the softness of your lips as you gently suck on them to bring moisture back to your delicate arches. His memories sketch in the fact that you have beautiful lips. Kissable. “It’s not that I wouldn’t, but it doesn’t really seem fair to you,” he admits.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I don’t really think it’d be kind to kiss someone I’m supposed to be arresting. You know what I’m talking about, right, Ms. Traitor?”

You open your mouth to speak but quickly fall silent and purse your lips.

“Not going to deny it?”

Gojo hopes you’ll deny his accusation with some pretty excuse to prove to him that he’s wrong about the situation, yet he knows he’s right, and he also knows you know that any excuse you have wouldn’t be sufficient.

“No. It’s the truth. I’m a curse-user, not a sorcerer.”

Satoru grits his teeth at your confession. His suspicions finally solidified with real evidence that he can’t bury away due to his absurd feelings.

“To be honest,” you begin, picking at your pants leg. “I had figured that the elders had already figured it out. It’s the only reason I could think of for why they would keep me in Sendai for so long.”

“You know. You could’ve run away when I first called you if you knew.”

You laugh bitterly. “Please, you can warp, and I’m not arrogant enough to think that I’d win in a fight against you when you hunt me down. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’d steamroll me either, but you’d definitely kill me in the end.”

“I would,” he responds, and you scoot back slightly as if he’d attack you that very moment. Your desire to kiss him turning into a desire to put distance in between the two of you stinging him when he had in fact aimed those words at himself. To talk himself into the fact that he would kill you here and now, without giving you the chance to cause anyone pain should he hesitate this night, like before.

The only one who would be in pain at the end of this should be him.

Because he may be the strongest but he’s human too.

No matter how hard he tries to think himself higher.

“That’d probably be for the best.”

Confusion strikes him first, and he quickly has to pull together his thoughts to form a coherent question, “You want me to kill you?”

Your lip twitches as you try to find the voice to explain, “The curses already are trying to kill me, and the only other options are execution or torture then execution from Jujutsu Tech. At least with you I know you’d make it quick.”

Then, it’s something you say that breaks his chain of thoughts.

Had you made the curses angry as well?

“The curses you work with—why are they trying to kill you? Aren’t they your allies?”

You shake your head. “I stopped feeding them information months ago. Anything they know now has to be someone else.”

“Any idea who?”

“Not really.”

“Convenient.”

“It’s the truth. Guess they didn’t trust me enough, well, good for them that they didn’t.”

Gojo droops his shoulders, relaxing back once again as he pinches the bridge of his nose to try to collect all the information you’re feeding him, to debate whether to believe you or not.

“I still don’t understand. Why’d you choose to work with curses in the first place…They promise you a coatrack too?”

“I wish. I have way too many jackets,” you say, remembering that one of the other humans on the curses’ side was promised one for his cooperation. “I did it because sorcerers are evil. They had no problem wiping out my clan as soon as we stopped toeing the line with them. I didn’t think sorcerers deserved their place. That’s why I chose to work with curses,” you confess. “I thought you all work the same in the top clans, but you guys at the school are so different from what I thought sorcerers were like. I couldn’t find a reason to keep hating sorcerers. At least not all of them especially not you.”

Gojo blinks a few times, studying your face for any sign of a lie, but he couldn’t find any in the gentle look you give him as your fingers inch closer to his hand, lightly brushing his skin as he realizes that he let his guard off around you…like always.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I’m telling you the truth when I say it’s not me, Satoru.”

With you admitting all this to him, he couldn’t find it in himself to kill or capture you when your conscience is already set to atone, the words you give instantly giving lifting the weight off his chest that he wouldn’t have to kill. Not this time. And replacing it with another pleasant, burning feeling. A selfish one. And he smiles, knowing that the higher ups would have another reason to want his head mounted on the wall.

“Calm down,” Gojo interrupts. He pulls his hand away from yours to bring it to the top of your head, lifting your gaze up to meet his. “I’ve already decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“So, you are going to turn me in? If that’s the case, I’ll have no choice but to go out fighting you.”

“Nope!” he says, gleefully bopping your nose with his finger before he takes a more serious tone, “If you’re no longer feeding information, then there’s not much of a point in killing you other than some petty revenge. Luckily in this case, I don’t feel the need for it.”

“You believe me then?” you question skeptically. “You…really trust me? What if I’m lying to you?”

Gojo hums, digging his finger in the top of his fold and pulling it down to study you. Immediately, you tense, but not from fear but fluster as it’s the first time you’re seeing his face. Gojo flashes a quick grin, the same smile he gives when he catches a woman staring at him, and you do what they all do and suddenly stare hard at your feet as you shyly debate meeting his eye.

“Yeah. You’re being honest,” he says, and hesitantly you raise your head to meet his gaze.

“How can you tell?” you breath out softly.

“It’d be no fun if I told you all that now,” Gojo says with a wink causing you to huff softly. Though, the simple answer is that he’d be a lousy person if he couldn’t tell when a close friend of his was lying to him. He pats your head, like a person pets a beloved child. “Well, that’s that. Let’s go home.”

“Home?” you ask.

“To the school. You said you wanted to stay with us.”

“Satoru, I,” you begin unsurely.

“It’s fine. Let me handle everything. The higher-ups already want my head mounted on a wall, so why not give them another reason to do it,” he says confidently, and you frown as a soft apology comes out your lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

You glance at his back broad in front of you, the relax posture and carefree whistling as he walks inviting you to catch up to his side. “I’m trusting you, Satoru. ...Don’t lie to me.”

Satoru looks to you, your eyes soft and pleading as they scan him for any sign of danger as you take the first nervous steps behind him.

“You can count on me,” he pipes out, “Just save that kiss for me as a reward and also maybe mention to Nanami that I’m your favorite now.”

You laugh, a beautiful sound to him. “Deal.”

Still I carried, I carried, I carried on

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #songfic

[firespirited]

Must have used up my 'no being social' luck.

Had two rando conversations today. One didn't make much sense (probably schizophrenia) but I nodded and agreed and wished him well.

The other, well I figured I'd just pop out with Talia for five minutes and ended up having a 25 minute conversation with 'masks are for when you have covid' dude who is now not a rando anymore. Uh slowly over the last month of nodding hi when we see him, short small talk and sis having her own long chat with him, he's on a fast track to being an acquaintance if not a friend of the family. He's local, a fellow crip and amiable, that's how things tend to go. He certainly seems to want to be friends.

G is 50, didn't have polio but a series of strokes in utero, has epilepsy, loves his nature hikes, made up for being visibly disabled by being a loud mouth and funny guy, thinks we're being very brave tackling new things and finding work arounds (walking at day break to avoid the heat, various hacks in case we get ill while out), not the smartest or socially attuned since I was stuck having this conversation in full sun. But it was bound to happen, expanding from outside the building was going to mean more neighbours to make conversation with.

'Fancy dressed fancy dog' lady who seems depressed now also has a name and a new puppy (she seems lighter too).

Wish I were better at small talk and not in pain (I'm walking for physio) so I could walk out the door without dreading the possibility a little bit (maybe more than a little on days when I just want to just do my horrid walk) .

I get online ready and eager to see what my internet people from around the world have been posting, even if they're going through rough times because it's not a one sided thing so it's not completely misanthropic (why yes I can go hermit mode for months but that's more of a me thing not a 'i don't like ppl' thing) . Like, I would really like to meet reciprocal friends irl. Except it involves meeting a lot of acquaintances who want to chat A Lot.

In the meantime I need to rehearse some banal and pleasant topics to pivot to because I'm the nice lady who listens and tries to not look like a deer in headlights and doesn't yet have a good evasive answer for 'how are you' that wouldn't be a lie or open conversation. I need a good quip that isn't I'm fine but also doesn't open conversation (not that some people aren't going to just talk about life the universe and everything anyway)

#saf #Social anxiety #And that's how neighbours become goooood frieeeends #I need a better 'mean' face

[moxfirefly]

B D J O V for Donnie, Karl and Alcina? (yes I am in love, no I dont have regrets uwu)

My 3 loves? Well why not! And pls enjoy the ficlet styles I’m going to opt for when doing dirty secrets! This is a little long so is going under the cut.

🩸🍷Alcina Dimitrescu🩸🍷

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)

A bit of an odd one here but she loves backs, like your actual back. The line of your spine, if you have those back dimples, ufff. She loves the shape of it if you’re on the more curvier side, she loves the skin, and your rolls, and any stretch marks. Just picture that elegant hand of hers ghosting over your back, nails maybe even claws.

On herself, well Alcina is aware of her assets and she’s very aware of her chest, both she’s quite proud of but she’s really proud of her figure over all.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There was a pretty seamstress in the village who always was brought up to the castle to help with her dresses. She was a pretty thing in Alcina’s eyes, very much her type. When your making or fixing or measuring a tailor made outfit for a 9ft+ woman well it gets tricky and a little more handsy than usual. Alcina didn’t mind, the seamstress didn’t either. It was interesting following simple commands even if they were asked upon her with nothing but grace and poise.

So as Alcina sat for the 40th time to have something around her neck marked to be fixed, she had to stand between her legs to best approach and see the mistake. Only sitting did she have the best chance at seeing her at a more eye to eye level (well as best as it could be).

She isn’t dumb, she knows curiosity, want and lust like the back of her hand. Sees the nervous swallow of the seamstress whenever hands glide across her chest. The whispered ‘pardon my lady’ when she rests a palm on Alcina’s throat and takes a needle to the neckline with all the gentleness she can muster. Of course it’s the moment to prick her finger, the quiet hiss and scent is enough to alert Alcina and without waiting for her to fuss she takes that bleeding digit and kisses it, tastes the bead of blood, all while looking straight at her. When she still sees lust there, oh does she pull her closer.

One of her maids walks in about twenty minutes later, an array of materials in her arms so she doesn’t quite catch how the Lady of the castle smooths her dress and tries not to laugh, chest heaving a little and legs closing a tad. The maid greets her with her usual honorifics before leaving the requested materials, she notices the seamstress isn’t there and arches a brow at the room. “Lavatory” is all Alcina says before the maid makes a question. She nods but feels something isn’t right with the current picture but still leaves.

Once gone.

The seamstress crawls out from under Alcina’s skirt, mouth shiny, hair disheveled and nice set of teeth marks at her bosom.

It becomes a frequent thing after that.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It’s not to say she needs to because she sincerely feels she has anybody at her beck and call who is willing ready and able. But on the rare occasion she indulges in some self care, it’s mostly in her luxurious tub. Feeling the warm water, her hair clean and smelling of that weeks chosen fragrance, well it gets her thinking and thinking leads desiring and if there isn’t anybody she’ll handle it. Slow, she loves drawing out her own pleasure, loves to feel that rise but stops before it’s too close. She’ll do that, edge herself a little bit more before biting down on her lip to muffle a more particular louder cry.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Both. She lives for giving it and she loves to receive it. She is just, wow, so incredibly good at it, she’s goes about it in such erotic and passionate way and if you’re not looking like you are being possessed by the devil then she up’s her game to make sure that happens. You can squeeze her head with your thighs all you want, she’s built different lol she can handle it. Don’t yank to much on her hair though, claw at her all you want but easy on the do.

She’s had a few inexperienced lovers which she has to guide when they want to go down on her. She’s very particular of what and how she likes it, but she’s patient enough to teach you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I’ll do you one better, https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMRSKhUoh/

⚙️Heisenberg⚙️

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)

https://hagelpaimon.tumblr.com/post/661063110466158592/i-wonder-wonder-who-ill-pick-hesi-baby-a

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) shout out to @imthegreenfairy88 for helping me out with this one.

The first few times he indulged in this he was very adamant in keeping it to himself and to himself only (with time and reassurance he chills out) but the first time he tried doing ‘back door’ stuff on himself he was very surprised about how good it fucking felt and every so often he indulged in it. There’s an occasion where he ends up in bed with some tourist, gun to his head he doesn’t remember their name but he sure fucking remember the blow job and fingering combo that they gave him that had him seeing fucking stars. He tensed up at first was about to say something but they crooked their fingers just right and swallowed his cock at the same time and words were out the window along with thoughts.

He was so far gone that it didn’t cross his mind that when he begged for another finger, he gave himself away and if their eyes weren’t indication of how delighted they had been, feeling two more additional fingers really proved the point.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I mean I’m saying yea, he has to get creative with it sometimes so as to not get bored, but he picks up a few things he enjoys (he is creative after all) he’s definitely ruined his fair share of pillows, loves rutting into them. He has beat off probably in any section of the factory but shower is better for clean up. He for sure has done it outside of the factory, probably relaxing on a chair and if the weather is nice enough, it’s not like anybody is gonna suddenly drop by. He likes a tight closed fist when he’s close but enjoys a teasing touch to start things off, really enjoys grabbing his balls when he does it. Very messy messy boy when he cums.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

This man blows you like his life depends on it. VERY sloppy but it’s really hot, it’s how eager he is about it and how willing he is to suffocate and or choke on it. He’s told you to sit on his face multiple times at multiple moments of the day. He loves the taste of you, loves feeling suffocated by your thighs. You know what they about big noses too 🥴🥴

As for receiving he likes to dish out what he takes. So expect some rough mouth fucking, he will make you gag, he will make you all teary eyed cause he enjoys it. He’s fine with it without to be honest, he much prefers to be balls deep in you but if you enjoy doing it then expect hip thrusting.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not super loud, but he isn’t mute. He groans and moans but he’s also a talker so expect a lot dirty talk. His voice drops in a way when he’s fucking you that it makes your toes curl. He’s all breathy pants when he’s close. Lots and lots of cuss words.

👾Donnie💜

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)

https://hagelpaimon.tumblr.com/post/661063462078889985/b-body-part-their-favourite-body-part-of-theirs

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes the taste of his own cum.

He denies it, really denies it, just says it’s his way of cleaning you up after a nice romp but he really has a way of proving the opposite. Donnie has ‘finished’ on you in every way shape or form. On your stomach, back, face etc you name and each time he has cleaned you up he’s either wiped it up and sucked on his fingers or he’s just full blown licked it off of you.

And there is something so disgustingly erotic about that you haven’t or don’t want to call him out on it. You’ve gone down on his multiple times and he very eager to kiss you after your done. One time you purposefully left some on your chin and lips to see if he’d clean it up first but nah, kissed the heck out of you. His favorite is cumin in you and then going down on you. The first time he did that, it was enough to make your toes curl till they cracked and just as you were about to say something he was yanking another orgasm from you. The combined taste of his and yours release? Fuck now that was his favorite.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Does it and does it often. He’s not prudish about it, it’s free oxytocin and for a guy who’s convinced he’s never gonna get a shot at being with somebody physically, might as well practice some self love.

Loves visual stimulation but he’s really into audio stimuli. Likes those audios where he feels he’s there with the person or the ones where they give instructions. Donnie is really into edging and if he’s got the time and privacy he can literally edge himself for a couple of hours. Has at times managed hands free orgasms. Has made cock sleeves or basically fleshlights (ah ingenuity), can have his moments where he’s super slow and teasing about it, light strokes and all that. Can also have moments where he basically fucks his fist to the point of making some pretty obscene wet noises. If listening to audios or watching videos he really loves trying to cum at the same time as the person in the vid or audio. Has a bottle of lotion right on the desk but that shit is so cluttered with stuff that nobody has picked up on it and honestly it’s kinda funny.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

GIVE GIVE GIVE.

Oh my lord is he OBSESSED with giving oral. It’s such a big turn on for him. He just loves how intimate it is, he loves how he’s giving you pleasure in such an intimate position. LOVES over stimulating with his mouth, loves feeling thighs trying to break his head, happy to die down the suffocated in his favorite place, loves feeling a hand at the back of his head and pushing him in further.

He’s not crazy about receiving cause he knows his size is a challenge but he’s not opposed to it, he much rather get a hand job from you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud and not afraid about it. He enjoys the fuck out of it and is going to be vocal about it unless it’s adamant to be quiet because people are around. His churrs are really nice, deep but not as baritone as say Raph’s, but they feel and sound so good.

#tmnt bayverse #re8 village #donnie #heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #lady d #lady dimitrescu #tmnt Donatello #Karl Heisenberg #lord heisenberg #tmnt Donnie #Donatello #ns*w alphabet #ask #dianounais

[galadhremmin]

We have derived Caranthir liking the Dwarves (and vice versa) because apparently, Finrod succeeds in every field Caranthir fails, and at this point it's clear this derives from the in-universe writer of the Silm and his own biases. Think about it: "Dark Finwë" , a grumpy, prejudiced lordling, and "Hair Champion", most handsome, noble king, have met with the same people!! Yet the king of the first secret kingdom is everyone's friend, but the prince that trades with them regularly is not... seems sus.

Hence, Caranthir is friends with the Dwarves. (But that is just an interpretation, so you're free to think what you wish, I just have several opinions on in-universe prejudice and the almighty narrative.)

I think that 'we' might actually have been Dawn Felagund years ago. Maybe this reading existed even before that, but I doubt that-- she's been very influential in silm fandom and was long before tumblr was much of a thing. https://dawnfelagund.com/caranthir-the-slandered

I wouldn't say it's 'clear' that what amounts to Caranthir's entire documented personality derives from the bias of the in-universe narrator, though as you can see from Dawn's writing it's a reading you can argue for. There are a number of different approaches you can take to the Silm and its biases anyway. One of the few times when it's absolutely clear the text isn't telling the entire story is when it talks about the Easterlings. I've posted about this before but the recorded names are, uhh.... the ones to betray the elves are unlikely to actually have been named things like 'ugly lord' and 'ugly beard.' 'Dark Finwe' on the other hand is a documented reference to his haircolour being dark like Finwe's own; hardly a negative judgement!

I personally think Caranthir can be exactly as ill-tempered and prejudiced as the Silm paints him without becoming an unsympathetic character. If a writer cannot make a moody, deeply prejudiced man an interesting character that is a failure as a writer; there are after all enough books who manage exactly that. That is not to say choosing not to write him that way is a failure (obviously not), but it's not necessary in order to make a reader feel for him at all.

Just going by the text, I think it actually might make for a more interesting narrative to explore in fic to me. Because he does change his mind about something, and at a very specific moment; when he meets the Haladin. That is much less dramatic if he secretly been as nice and popular as Finrod, and got along with everyone all the time already. He's been raised by Fëanor, who said things like 'No other race shall oust us!' and rallied the Noldor not motivated enough by vengeance for Finwë alone by playing on their deep-seated fear of being replaced by the Secondborn. Very unlikely that had no impact. At best it has made him uninterested in humans in his area (while they're not much of a threat to ruling instead of the elves anyway). The text says they paid them no heed.

And yet! Caranthir sees how brave Haleth and her people are. He 'does her great honour.' He changes his mind and offers them lands. His tragedy to me is not that of a slandered figure, but of this deeply, deeply prejudiced person raised to distrust the motivations of human beings -- who overcomes those beliefs, offers friendship, is rejected! then extends that same trust to the Easterlings anyway... and it's those specific Easterlings, not the ones who ally with his brothers-- who betray them all. And cause the disastrous ending of the Nirnaeth. It's the 'to evil end shall all things turn that they begin well' part of the curse hitting him in the least fair way possible. Someone finally changes for the better, and the outcome is treason and destruction.

That is a very good character arc to me, actually. His aesthetics-based scorn for the Dwarves is reprehensible but strikes me as deeply Elvish, and part of his prejudices. Naugrim is too unflattering a name for them for it not to be common. His temper-- well why can't he have one? Sure there's only one recorded instance -- but that's imo because there are hardly any conversations in the Silm! Anyway I like some people with tempers well enough. Personally I think people are missing out on opiniated grouches.

Obviously the biased anti-Feanorian Pengolodh reading is a nice one, and I have enjoyed a lot of stories written based it. But it's not at all a reading that is necessary for me to read Caranthir as a flawed but sympathetic character. He can have serious faults and still, ultimately, be someone I feel for.

What I was asking though was if I overlooked any canon evidence of Caranthir being particularly, personally fond of the Dwarves; and it seems I did not. Also; there is room for Caranthir growing to like the Dwarves over centuries without an anti-Feanorian bias reading this strong, there is simply no evidence for friendship in the rather barebones narrative (I'm not interested atm because it's wildly overdone to me & I like variety).

That said, in my opinion making Caranthir the hidden, slandered Feanorian Finrod equivalent with a dash of Curufin's Dwarf affection is not as enjoyable as simply working with what little canon character is actually there. Because there is one (and it's not the greedy tax collector of some fanon depictions either imo)

1. To start with, wrt Caranthir as the anti-Finrod, I don't think it works that well. Sure sure dark/light, open/prejudiced, repressed/shouty, but different motivations, different locations, plus they meet very different peoples even if both are Edain-- besides, Caranthir's own older brothers do successfully ally with the Easterlings without betrayal, while Curufin (much more so than Finrod! no Khuzdul for Finrod!) is the Dwarves' Friend(tm). Also, a flawed Finrod already exists. That's just the regular edition. He has his own faults and (very different) tragic arc.

If Finrod never seems to have strong prejudices to overcome, and if he's not confrontational (which... look he's a diplomat. Make of that what you will. Pretty awkward there in Doriath, buddy!) he does have trouble facing his own complicity (he wanted to sail those ships despite the murders) until Sauron beats him to death with it. He leaves Valinor with the idea of ruling but he has to give up the crown. He's ambitious, he seems emotionally repressed, he's.. possibly paying the greater Dwarves to drive the Petty Dwarves out of their ancestral home to build a city? Oops. Depending on the version you go with in that case, of course; there's also ones where he's free of the blame of that one. Not of wanting to sail those ships and being uneasy with the guilt wrt wanting to do so despite their being stolen and murdered for though. No he doesn't kill; but he wants to use the result of it anyway, and to make it worse he is actually half Telerin.

There's also (to be fair, only for sure after the disaster of the Sudden Flame because that's the recorded instance) his guards killing random innocent trespassers to keep his kingdom hidden -- yes, that's right there in Silm, yes he's still King at the time. Beren has to wave that ring. People just seem to miss that he'd be killed without it somehow.

I think it's just too easy to reduce him to the golden perfect opposite of Caranthir. Yes he's described more positively; he's also just mentioned more because unlike Caranthir he rules an actual kingdom, the greatest and richest in Beleriand in fact; and does things that have a lot of very longterm effects, like helping B&L steal a Silmaril. They don't 'meet the same people' anyway -- the Haladin have a different culture from the Beorians which contributes to their reaction to Caranthir (and iirc their later fate).

Sidenote: Dawn's essay attributes the Green Elves helping the Feanorians at Amon Ereb to Caranthir's diplomatic skills; but why not to those of Amras or Amrod? This is the quote; 'Caranthir fled and joined the remnant of his people to the scattered folk of the hunters, Amrod and Amras, and they retreated and passed Ramdal in the south. Upon Amon Ereb they maintained a watch and some strength of war, and they had aid of the Green-elves' -- nothing here indicates it was Caranthir who got them that aid. In fact A&A are the hunters, i.e. more likely to have roamed in various forests where they would have encountered Green Elves, imo.

There's also the very desperate times to consider in which this aid takes place. This is just post Sudden Flame, and even if the Green Elves didn't like Caranthir they probably liked him better than Morgoth. Also, speaking of cosmopolitans, Maedhros allies with, yes, Dwarves (Azaghal), Grey elves, Easterlings (and you might say: Fingolfinians); even part of the remaining people of Dorthonion rally to Himring post sudden flame (that means Edain and Arafinwean followers in Himring, at least for a time), and he manages to be friendly with Felagund despite calling him a badger. ;)

Finrod is not the only other leader to forge diverse alliances, and though B&L ends happily his people mostly do not. Caranthir's not much like Finrod in any way. Not in motivations, temperament, tragic arc. That's fine. No hidden kingdom for a dragon to eat either. Finrod could probably do with being a little less like Finrod sometimes, though he's well-intentioned and likable. Caranthir loves to shout and isn't sneaky. Good for him.

2. Curufin also already exists. His love for Dwarves is one of his defining and redeeming characteristics and boy does he need them. He's daddy's favourite, a sneaky overambitious bitchy bastard who is also a talented smith and linguist, and truly considered a Dwarf friend, which is apparently exceptional. He's quite flawed; tries to help Celegorm force a political marriage, laughs with a bruised mouth, seeming to lose his mind while attempting and failing murder after first losing his own stronghold and then the city he tried to take from his cousin. He's just... a personality. Mostly a bad one! You can feel for him though, because he seems like an utter mess. Many 'i would love to study you' feelings on my part. Would hate for him to be real but also I'd pay to be his therapist.

3. And then finally there's Canon Caranthir. A difficult, prejudiced person who despite that (which doesn't at all have to mean there is no despite, the despite is what makes it juicy)

- seems to be responsible for re-establishing (large scale?) trade with the Dwarves, whatever he might think of them (and they of him) to their mutual benefit. I don't think he's greedy either. It seems like a mutually profitable situation. Access to Dwarvish goods seems pretty vital to Beleriand, and facilitating trade is a real service.

As someone pointed out in the replies, the Silm does mention Dwarvish companies travelling east to Nan Elmoth and menegroth various times, but quote wrt Caranthir says 'Caranthir’s people came upon the Dwarves, who after the onslaught of Morgoth and the coming of the Noldor had ceased their traffic into Beleriand' and 'when the Dwarves began again to journey into Beleriand.'

They stopped at some point and Caranthir's people made it happen again.

- which means he's practical. He seems like he's good at organising, and setting his own feelings aside if necessary despite his prejudice and temper (which is an achievement it wouldn't be without his, hm, everything). Also he and his people as well as the Dwarves work together well because ''either people loved skill and were eager to learn,' despite their (initial?) mutual dislike. Those aren't bad characteristics; seems like it was an exchange of skill as well as goods and possibly providing safe travel opportunities.

I don't like the 'greedy Caranthir' fanon and don't think it is even that easy support entirely with canon. 'They had of it great profit,' the text says-- both Caranthir and the Dwarves. They exchanged skills and knowledge and Caranthir seems to have helped them start trading in Beleriand again. That's hardly Scrooge Mcduck.

- Another thing we can say about canonthir (lol) is that he apparently attaches a lot of value to aesthetics (was he a visual artist? is a he a sculptor like Nerdanel? WORSE: AN ART CRITIC?! Feanorian art critic is truly nightmare fuel) and that's why he dislikes Dwarves (of all things...). Either way points to 'aesthetics' as something apparently important to Caranthir. Which makes sense given who his parents are. What is interesting to me is that this apparently DOESN'T matter to Curufin, who is a lot like Feanor in most things. That's interesting!

I've never, never seen this but I think it would be very funny to attribute his aesthetic prejudices to Nerdanel. I love her; but why should her opinions be perfect? I know she wasn't considered beautiful herself, but she's an artist. She's got to have had some strong opinions on aesthetics anyway. I doubt it's the beards; Mahtan had one as well. And 'stunted'...at least some of this comes down to the Elvish obsession with height yet again. Hm.

- eventually Caranthir overcomes what have to be some very deeply held beliefs about human beings and their place in the world, and offers what for all intents and purposes looks like real friendship, not the ruling over Men Feanor seems to have had in mind at best. He's capable of real change!

Anyway his character works just fine to me from canon, and what he achieves and the ways in which he fails are more interesting that way rather-- neither slandered Feanorian Finrod 2.0 nor Curufin 'Dwarf Fan' Feanorion without the sneakiness and murder attempts pack the same punch as a stupidly prejudiced grouchy man doing his best anyway for centuries in this stupid ugly cursed land, eventually changing for the better, opening up-- and being brutally punished for it by the Doom.

Dammit. I hope there's therapy in the Everlasting Darkness.

hm a bit long but that's what I get for trying to gather my thoughts wrt why after considering it a bit transferring Curufin's love for Dwarves to Caranthir is a bit boring to me personally. Though there are still stories that still do it very well.

#no one asked including me but there you go anyway #that's what you get when i wake up at nearly 3 in the morning and thnk. FUCK i can't sleep #caranthir

[spencers-renaissance]

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

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