#Fire Rescue Workers

[vaquerovulgar]

when talking about the whole submersible implosion thing, can people be careful not to discredit search and rescue as a whole? its totally possible to both address migrant safety and random freak accidents at the same time. they are not mutually exclusive. i would much rather live in a society that spends millions doing search and rescue for dumbasses who likely deserve to die, than live in a society in which emergency services can openly choose who to save and let die based on perceived cost, class, identity, or morals.

[jaythes1mp]

The Incident

Before the incident, you were no one special. 

Growing up, your family belonged to the middle class, your mother a waitress and your father a construction worker. You were an only child, raised by your grandmother from a very young age, as your parents were young and unfit to care for you. Choosing to spend their time working and partying with their friends rather than looking after their baby.

You hadn’t gotten into any of the colleges in your area, so you resulted in making a basic wage by working dual jobs. Saving up just enough money for some scrappy apartment on the outskirts of Gotham.

One afternoon, just before you were able to clock out of another grooly ten-hour shift, six masked women had smashed through the front windows, raiding the store.

The back room was dimly lit, with only a couple dusty desk lamps shedding any kind of light. You were shoved to the ground and forced to sit amongst the other victims while the women gathered whatever they came for. One of them, presumably the leader, began to count the people they had captured, when she stopped and took notice of you. It was the luck of the draw, really. 

You were terrified, practically trembling as the barrel was shoved up against your temple, the hard shove against your front being the only warning to move. 

You don’t remember much after that. Seeing four of the infamous masked fighters coming to rescue your fellow workers and subdue the other robbers. You, however, weren’t as lucky.

Just as the blunt edge of Robin’s katana was slammed into the side of the woman’s weapon, a shot rang out, echoing throughout the walls. 

The weapon was knocked to the ground by the force, completely out of her reach, and she was wrestled to the ground by the vigilantes.

You’re not sure why you fell, but everything suddenly felt warm.

As the room around you grew dizzy, your head spinning from the impact, the world around you felt like it was slowly fading, blurring and darkening at the edges of your vision. The ground was growing sticky beneath you at a rapid rate, turning dark as the deep red liquid began to seep and pour out around you like a spreading fire.

You remember all four of the vigilantes rushing towards you, their faces twisted into panicked masks unlike anything you had ever seen, not even the one time when you had broken your arm as a child. They were more worried than your father would have been at the thought of you dead. 

Oh... I’m dying.

You wanted to chuckle at how absurd it was. You were barely twenty four, and here you were, lying on the cold, dirty floor of a back room, shot through the chest. 

Fuck, my chest hurts.

A deep, shaky breath left your lips, watching as the last few moments of your life were spent looking at the frantic and worried faces of Gotham's heros.

You weren’t sure why they were so devastated. They had all seen death before, first hand. You shouldn't have been any different. There was nothing special about you. You were just an average, worthless citizen, no friends, a shitty job, and an even shittier apartment.

Your hand moved to the hole in your chest, a pained scream ripping through your lips, your eyes squeezed shut.

Then it all went black.

Or.. at least it should have.

Instead, you woke up. 

Gasping frantically for air, you looked around, your heart racing. The looks of the worried teens around you were inconsequential.

Your hands flew to your chest, clawing at the covered skin, looking for the bullet wound that had once been there. It's gone…

A deep, shaky breath left your lips, a relieved sigh following right after.

Then, you finally looked up to meet the eyes of your tenth grade literature teacher.

After the incident, you had found yourself flung back nine years into the past. However, this time, things were different from how you remember them to be.

Now, a cocky, billionaire’s son was claiming to be your best friend, your neighbours, who you vaguely remember having been old, crabby couples, were now completely different. Your old friends were nowhere to be found, And the ever prevalent vigilantes in Gotham seemed almost obsessed with you.

This is a slightly over-detailed synopsis.

I created this idea while I was working on chapter three for Here, Kitty.

If you’d like me to make this drabble into full chapters, then please reblog, comment, or message me. If it gets no interaction then I will understand that it was a shit concept and drop it. If not, then I have a lot of ideas for how the plot will spiral, and a potential twist-ending.

IF anyone was interested in it, then it would include both the BatFamily and SuperFamily, as yanderes.

Thank you for reading through all of this, lovely readers💚 Feel free to send in any suggestions or questions!!

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

��Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Undead Florist

Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!

Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.

He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.

There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.

Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.

No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.

From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"

"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.

The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."

He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.

And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.

The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.

"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.

Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.

The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.

Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"

With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.

Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.

Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"

"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.

"What?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused."

It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.

Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.

One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.

Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.

He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.

Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.

None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.

Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.

They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.

The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.

"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.

"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."

"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.

Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."

The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.

Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.

"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."

Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.

The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.

Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.

Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.

That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.

"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"

"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."

"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.

[komsomolka]

The holocaust engulfing Palestinians in Gaza has reached unimaginable levels of horror, epitomized by a harrowing video that swept across social media of 19-year-old Shaaban al-Dalou, burning to death while still connected to an IV drip. This was no isolated tragedy – it was emblematic of the escalating genocide. On 13 October, an Israeli airstrike ignited the makeshift tents sheltering dozens of displaced Palestinian families in the courtyard of Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah. Amidst the inferno, Dalou’s 17-year-old brother Mohammed described his agony: “I can’t describe the feeling. I saw my brother burning in front of me, and my mother was burning.” Mohammed had managed to escape when he heard the strike, but his brother Shaban and their mother did not. His father saved his 10-year-old brother from the flames, only for the child to succumb to his burns days later, according to the New York Times.

The horrifying video was followed a week later by photos showing soldiers expelling Palestinians from half-destroyed residential blocks at gunpoint. Israeli drone footage published by Israel’s public broadcaster Kan captured images of Palestinians rounded up and forced to walk south through Gaza’s post-apocalyptic landscape without any possessions. Many Palestinians who refused to obey evacuation orders, often delivered by announcements made by hovering quadcopter drones, were massacred by Israeli artillery and airstrikes.

Rescue workers and civilians attempting to save others have been shot at by Israeli forces or simply rounded up and ‘disappeared.’ There have been reports describing numerous instances where Palestinians were targeted while trying to help injured individuals. This has left the people of Gaza without any medical or emergency services, forcing a complete halt on health and civil defense services.

Even hospitals were not spared. Critically injured patients and the doctors treating them faced the same impossible ultimatum – evacuate or die. After returning home, western doctors who had volunteered in Gaza expressed their shock at how many children arrived at the hospitals, shot not only once but twice, directly in the heart and head. “No toddler gets shot twice by mistake by ‘the world’s best snipers.’ And they’re dead-center shots,” surgeon Mark Perlmutter told CBS News. Israeli snipers and drones opened fire deliberately not only on children but on those trying to rescue them.

Palestinian families fleeing were forced to pass through checkpoints where soldiers separated the men from women and children. The soldiers then dressed the men in white jumpsuits, bound their hands, covered their eyes, and loaded them into beds of military trucks to be taken away by night to Israel’s notorious torture camps. In detainee camps such as Sde Teiman over the past year, Israeli soldiers have starved, beaten, and anally raped Palestinian detainees. They shackled the limbs of detainees so tightly that prison doctors were regularly forced to amputate limbs. [...]

Fearing such a fate and knowing that the Israeli army planned to repeat the Nakba of 1948 and never allow them to go back to their homes and lands, many Palestinians in northern Gaza refused to flee. Those who were forcibly expelled saw images of occupation forces lighting the remains of their apartment blocks ablaze and proudly posing for selfies and group photos posted as ‘trophies of war’ across social media platforms. [...]

The use of starvation as a weapon of war proved embarrassing to Netanyahu’s backers in the White House, who enthusiastically support the genocide but also wish to avoid backlash from American voters that may cause them to lose power in the upcoming US presidential election. On 13 October, the White House issued a letter publicly demanding Netanyahu increase aid to Gaza, otherwise Washington’s “continued offensive weapon shipments” to the Israeli army would be in jeopardy. The letter, written by US Secretary of State Antony Blinken, noted that the amount of aid delivered had “dropped by more than 50 percent” since the spring and that the amount delivered in “September was the lowest of any month during the past year.” However, Blinken wrote in the letter that Netanyahu had a 30-day window to comply, deliberately ensuring the Israeli prime minister could ignore it without consequence. As the Times of Israel observed, “The letter was sent just weeks before the 5 November US presidential election.” As a result, “its 13 November deadline would ostensibly mitigate some of the political fallout, given that US President Joe Biden will be a lame duck when deciding whether Israel has taken the necessary steps to ensure compliance” with the US demand.

In other words, no matter how many Palestinians are burned to death, torn to pieces, or starved, Blinken will continue to play his role in ensuring that Israel’s supply of bombs continues to flow unimpeded.

please, help palestinians in gaza by sharing and contributing to their donation posts.

[lastoneout]

Sometimes I think I might be a little bit too osha-pilled or whatever because like, as much as it's fun to watch Jenny Nicholson breakdown everything wrong with the Star Wars hotel literally ALL I needed to hear was "there are no windows and if there's a fire you're just supposed to hide in a little closet until rescue workers can get to you" for me to be like "oh cool! this thing is a horrifying nightmare trap and spending two days in it is playing chicken with death!" Like y'all know why it's illegal for bedrooms in houses/apartments to not have a window, right? It's because in the event of a fire, it kills people! The Starcruiser is the Tesla of hotels to me, Disney couldn't pay ME to spend longer than like half an hour in that fucking building and I would have to be within sight of the door at all times.

I am fully convinced the only reason this hotel didn't kill anyone is because it wasn't open long enough for an accident to happen. I won't tell anyone what to do with their lives but Jenny going to that hotel feels like youtubers who rent a Cybertruck to make a video dunking on it, like cool! Nice to see how much it sucks up close!! But you're VERY lucky nothing went wrong.

[louisferrignojr]

since the show is coming back tomorrow (!!!) and people seem to be a little bit confused about Tommy Kinard's canon character traits, as extrapolated from the source material, let's review, shall we?

Tommy put everything on the line, risked his job, not to mention entire life, by agreeing to fly Hen and Chimney and two more guys he's never even met before through a hurricane to maybe find (the wreckage of) a cruise ship that his old captain was on. He did it because Chimney called him and asked for a favour (also seen in 2x14, Broken) and because he trusts Hen's instincts (evidenced in 2x09, Hen Begins)

Tommy lied through his teeth to his co-worker when he stepped in to save Hen's unsuccessful bullshitting and made fake mouth static at the fire chief pretending the connection is bad before disconnecting the call. If there was nothing wrong with the cruise ship, he would have been fired, or at the very least suspended.

okay, what do we know so far? Tommy is loyal to his friends even if they haven't talked in years, he is dependable and will come through in a crisis.

we also know Tommy is a very skilled and competent pilot (given he's able to operate both the plane in 2x14 and helicopter in 7x03) and he flew said helicopter through a hurricane, landed it on the belly of a capsized ship, rescued the survivors, and flew everyone back to safety. and given the extremely dangerous conditions of the rogue rescue mission, I'd say he's also brave and/or a little bit reckless; when the situation calls for it, at least.

he's also super cool, an opinion shared by multiple characters (Buck, Christopher, and Chimney).

that being said, let's move on to 7x04

Tommy agreed to give Buck a tour of Harbor station, meaning he had to go to work on his day off, and then offered him flying lessons. So he's either super nice or he's interested in the cute guy (i think it's a little bit of both)

Tommy invited Eddie, a guy he barely knows, to a sold out big reunification bout, with ringside tickets that he got from the organiser, who he's apparently friends with, and flew them in a chopper! He's just a super nice dude.

Tommy offered to drive Eddie to the hospital, and talked about The Incident with him, because when he gets to Buck's loft, he says "he [Eddie] feels bad, in fact we both do" and honestly, he had no obligation to do any of that. He could have let Buck drive Eddie since he offered and wiped his hands clean of that mess. But he's a caring and considerate person, further evidenced by the fact that...

Tommy went to Buck's loft before he had to go to work, to talk to him in person and clear the air, saying he didn't want to do it on the phone or in a text. Tommy starts by apologising and stating very clearly that he never meant to come between Buck and Eddie and that neither of them meant to exclude Buck. He also easily reciprocated Buck's vulnerability. I think the loft scene alone does a great job at showing us that Tommy doesn't shy away from confrontation or a difficult conversation, is emotionally mature, values open and honest conversation, and owns up to his flaws and insecurities. (Yeah, I'm trying to be concise. There's meta upon meta about the goddamn loft scene)

He's also a little bit insane because why does hearing that the cute guy maimed his best friend make you want to kiss him. Tommy Kinard will see a red flag and pretend to be colourblind. (-> for tumblr purposes this is a joke)

anyway, moving on, Saturday rolls around...

Tommy noticed that Buck was a little tense, reassured him that no one's looking at them, and sympathised with him. He doesn't judge Buck, like, at all. I don't need to list all the ways Buck made an absolute fool of himself on their very first date. He also paid for the dinner.

Tommy cut the date short (abruptly, because this is a drama show) but before he left, he told Buck he's adorable, but not ready - and this is right after Buck forcefully shoved him back in the closet in front of their mutual friend, and especially after Tommy told him about his own difficult journey coming out of the closet.

Tommy showed up at the café, told Buck he has nothing to apologise for, and explained that he cut the date short because didn't want to pressure Buck.

Tommy asks Buck if he's absolutely sure, about Tommy being his date at his sister's wedding. Then says okay.

more character traits for Tommy Kinard: generous, non-judgmental, sympathetic, patient, and once again, a little bit insane.

night of Chimney's bachelor party/day of Maddie and Chimney's wedding:

Tommy shows up to the bachelor party even though he's on call for work, you know, as a firefighter pilot, and he could have spent this time sleeping or resting in case he gets called... and he does, to a wildfire! Before he goes he promises Buck that he'll try his damndest to make it to the wedding.

Tommy shows up as promised, after spending at least half a day fighting a wildfire? In his turnouts, covered in soot, but he shows up as promised.

I think this shows he is selfless first and foremost because he made time to show up to the (failed) bachelor party and he is honest and keeps his promises. Even if that means bringing a biohazard (himself) to a place full of vulnerable sick people (the hospital). Because, as previously established, he's a little bit insane.

these are the core Tommy episodes of season 7.

as for 7x09 and 7x10:

Tommy tenses up when confronted with his old captain Gerrard - who then subtly throws a slur at his face

Tommy is quick with the sass and will not indulge in his nosey friends' inquisitive questions

Tommy notices Buck's mood and checks in with him - he's caring and attentive

Tommy once again does not hesitate to admit to feeling jealous

Tommy doesn't really talk to his dad

Tommy likens his dad to captain Gerrard

Tommy admits that having Gerrard as his captain did not make him a better person (and okay, sidenote to talk about something that annoys me about this, because Tommy had different captains, including Bobby, while at the 118, and I think s7 canon seriously overestimated how long he worked under Gerrard, but let's say Gerrard was his first captain as a probie and influenced him to a certain extent)

some odd tidbits ~

Tommy has a sarcastic, deadpan sense of humour

Tommy is a goddamn flirt and unbelievably smooth

Tommy came out after he transferred from the 118 to the 217/Harbor Station

Tommy used to be a pilot in the army

Tommy flies for fun on his days off

Tommy plays basketball every other Thursday with Eddie and other first responders

Tommy knows muay thai

Tommy has a car lift and knows his way around an engine

Tommy likes watching half-naked pummel each other

Tommy likes karaoke trivia

Tommy likes craft beer, monster trucks, and the movie 'Love, Actually' (provided canon doesn't forget about this and/or retcons it for some reason)

[handmadebybainsy]

Give it a share if you know of anyone who might be interested in purchasing any of these! Multiple services to choose from. (Firefighter, police, paramedic, dispatch, search and rescue, and more) 😌

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1363370673/emergency-services-keyringkeychain-fire

[satellitebroadcast]

In another war crime, israeli occupation violently forces all civil defence and Red Crescent to end their rescue missions in besieged northern Gaza. There is officially no ambulances and no vehicles in assistance to put out fires and recuse civilians under the rubble. Many of these medics and civil defence workers have been murdered or kidnapped and taken to torture camps by israeli occupation.

This is an unprecedented war crime. What is happening in northern Gaza, perpetrated by the rouge state of israel, has never been done in history.

[r0-boat]

MC naked & afraid featuring 7 idiots Headcannons

(What in hell is bad! survival Island headcannons)

Based off of my whb survival Island poll

Author's notes: I'm watching a documentary right now This shit made me laugh so hard imagining these demons becoming feral

It was supposed to be a cruise Mammon was testing out his new cruise ship but something horribly wrong happened where you and the seven kings were stranded on an island in the human world. Their powers unable to work for plot reasons.

They're not stuck forever They can go back home but a rescue team will take a month to arrive.

Satan

Satan somehow got a campfire running. He got so angry he lit the fire based off of pure anger. Because Leviathan was bullying him that he didn't know how to start a simple fire and asked him to hand over the sticks. Satan said "NO! FUCK YOU PUSSY BITCH I GOT IT!"

Satan is a really good hunter, like an exceptional hunter. And he quickly goes into his role. It's been 2 days and now He wears the pelt of his latest kill. Hey sharpens his own tools and he looks like a savage according to Leviathan.

Satan has gotten a thrill for the hunt and for some reason he keeps staring at you....

Mammon

For an hour he's been looking around this deserted island it is populated with native animals and foliage as well as fresh water. You know what he's thinking about... Turning this island into another one of his villas.

When he is not checking out this island as if he's trying to purchase real estate He's actually helping you with building a shelter. Tino's absolutely nothing about building shelters but he's glad to be your heavy muscles and tools for whenever you can't do something.

Following Satan His deconstruction of a civil man has begun but the only thing that really changed is his shirt came off that's it... Only because It got ripped when Satan and him had a fight.

Leviathan

He hates this he fucking hates this. Everyone's running around like headless chickens and he's the only competent devil (except for Lucifer)

He's been better... He was actually a lot worse when you first crashed on the island You had to actually calm him down from his panic attack and when he did finally calm down He has been clinging to you like his life depended on it. Using you as some kind of strange therapy. Becoming more possessive over you.

Anything you're doing he is doing with you no questions ask if anyone were to question it he will take a sharp rock and stab them right in the eye.

Beelzebub

As soon as you woke up in the sand Beelzebub. You wanted to search for him But the other kings we're not worried for him at all.

Before the sun goes down he does turn up with a stick sharpened into a spear and food. Beel is an exceptional hunter. He is the reason why All of you aren't starving. Beel can literally eat anything But that doesn't mean you and other devils can't. So if he tells you not to eat something don't need it.

Beel and Satan have some kind of dick measuring competition with killing and hunting prey. Satan comes back with a rabbit, Beel catches a wild boar, Satan comes back with a big fish, Beel comes back with a crocodile.

Lucifer

Oh my god finally a competent devil. Lucifer is the most important devil since he can heal injuries as well as sicknesses. Even though his magic isn't in effect he still knows a lot of natural plant remedies. He knows every plant species that God has made.

He looks at you with an odd look, while you follow his instructions closely on how to build a proper shelter.

He takes this chance to study you as if you were his science project every time you get a bump I scrape or scratch He studies you meticulously how your human body heals naturally slowly. His fingers delicately tracing each scar you've ever had.

Belphegor

Motherfucker is either asleep or jacking off while you guys do the work. He's so lucky to have all these hard workers working for him and with the shelter built he could finally... It's not comfortable...

He knows that you guys are doing your best and what not but damn sleeping on the ground sucks ass wipe. He wants to find natural soft moss or bedding just for a better sleep.

Because of Belphegor The shelter in looks more and more comfortable with his additions which he always adamantly reminds you. Every time you go in there's new shit added and it looks more like a nest then a shelter.

Asmodeus

Oh yeah the clothes are gone... Are you surprised? This demon has become full feral and he loves it. An island paradise for you and him and of the other 6 would like to join they're more than welcome to.

This uncivilized natural land spark something inside him that you don't want anything to do with.

After you literally threatened not to have sex with him for 2 months until he puts his clothes back on He decides to use leaves or vines instead now he just looks like PornHub Tarzan...

Bonus:

This devil is the king of lust, He has been eyeing this human potential mate for a while now...

The human bathing in the crystal pool catch a sight of him, They seem weary but content with his presence.

This is his chance The devil puffs out his chest showing off his horn it is a devil's way of showing strength and virility.

In his usual habitat He would be the undisputed king. But now his territory is shared. And another eyes his prey.

The human looks into the foliage before jumping back a splash of water fills his vision he hears warning hiss as his opponent comes in view a devil of envy, He has already laid claim to them and he will not back down.

Unlike his one horn this male has two, two against one is hardly fair but that doesn't mean he'll stand down without a fight.

Before these two demons can fight for this potential mate, the human screams "STOP FUCKING AROUND!! I'M TRYING TO BATHE GET OUT!!"

[probablyasocialecologist]

The Spanish Meteorological Agency had warned of the severity of this DANA (isolated high-altitude depression) days in advance, yet the government of Valencia–led by Mazón from the Popular Party (PP), which allied with the far-right VOX in the last election–did not raise the alert level or inform residents of the impending danger until it was too late. These climate change-denier parties made dismantling the Valencian Emergency Unit one of their first actions in power, scrapping a unit established by the previous left-wing government to coordinate emergency responses. Such a response could have saved hundreds of lives, as only after five days were fire brigades from other parts of Spain finally allowed to respond, despite being ready from day one, some stationed only a couple of hours away. The staggering dysfunction was made clear when a team of French firefighters, arriving voluntarily and without permission on Saturday, discovered they were the first responders in the area. Employees who received warnings from family and friends about river overflows upstream were not allowed to leave work. Consequently, when the worst of the flood came, countless people were trapped in their cars on the way home, many of them returning from industrial parks on Valencia’s working-class outskirts, caught at the end of their full shifts. Those workers now still lie trapped in their cars, waiting for rescue–if they survived–or decomposing. Meanwhile, the areas hardest hit by the torrent are mostly working-class neighborhoods, built on floodplains near the river’s overflow zone. Construction was permitted there for developers–many friendly with politicians–in a region known for government corruption, particularly under the right-wing Popular Party’s administrations between 1995-2015.

[...]

Capitalist employers put profits before their workers’ lives. Testimonies abound of employees spending the night at work, unable to leave until it was too late. A video has gone viral showing a Mercadona supermarket lorry, owned by a tycoon notorious for ruthless business practices, stuck in the floodwaters–though the servile Spanish media pixelated the logo to protect its reputation. The same employer, while making a show of charitable donations for the flood-affected, has forced affected employees back to work since the very next day. The underground car park of the Bonaire shopping center, one of Spain’s largest, is feared to hold many bodies, as the center stayed open despite the red alert from the Meteorology Service. Public institutions like Valencia’s University sent staff and students home hours before, as did the Valencia government, which sent its workers home because of “a high risk for the population”.

4 November 2024

[hybbart]

Ranger Tango!

Tango is a seasoned ranger who specializes in caves and mountains. He has a habit of helping even the biggest and scariest of pokemon. When he met Jimmy (saving his life after he and Oricorio fell down a cliff) they got on like a house on fire, and he decided to join him in his journey. He loves to meet and help wild pokemon others wouldn't give a chance along the way, and help Jimmy with double battles or gets into trouble. His battle strategies tend to be a bit convoluted, as are the traps he sets for poachers. He's also friends with several gym leaders, including Impulse, Zed, and Gem, so often acts as a guide on them to Jimmy, alongside Lizzie.

His partner pokemon is a feisty and excitable Darumaka. She is very close with Tango and follows him everywhere, helping him with mischief and training to be strong enough to help him with the large angry wild pokemon they encounter. She's a lot tougher than her size would imply. She quickly befriends Jimmy's Oricorio, training and hanging out with her, and helping her whenever.

Piloswine is a friendly giant Tango ran into stuck in a snowdrift. After rescuing her she clung to his side to warm him up as he nearly froze to death. Tango likes to use all sorts of nicknames for her, including Pumpkin when she's being sweet and Miss Management when she helped him take down a poacher, but he can't seem to settle on one. She is often used to navigate cold or sandy locations.

Klefki is a mischievous little pokemon who got in trouble when he was caught stealing all the keys from a puzzle game. Tango smuggled him out in order to prevent him from getting in trouble. Kelfki often uses Tango, Jimmy, and Lizzie as a shield whenever he pulls pranks on other people and pokemon, crying to them until they save him.

Slugma was being a menace at a daycare. Beef hired Tango to look into it and Tango discovered Slugma was just trying to take care of eggs abandoned by their trainers and keeping them warm. He isn't afraid to jump into action when he sees any pokemon in trouble, much like Tango, but is very worried about burning other pokemon.

Electrode is a very hardworking pokemon, and Tango found them "haunting" an old power plant, where they had been abandoned by the former workers, dutifully continuing to keep the plant running by themself. They have a tendency to explode when excited, so everyone but Jimmy's Oricorio and Lizzie's Wooper are cautious when playing with them.

Lunatone was found during an eclipse festival, where Lunatone was searching for a solrock partner to dance with. They mistook Tango for a Solrock at first, and was subsequently rescues when it got in a fight with a diggersby carrying a sun stone. They often get in people's faces due to their terrible eyesight, scaring the smaller pokemon.

[thebroccolination]

Promare's one of my favorite movies because of character-driven scenes like this.

It just drives home why I find Galo a remarkably fun protagonist to root for, because he's willing to challenge himself and his firmly held beliefs when he has good cause. He's a rescue worker, not a cop, so his core motivation is in helping people, not punitive justice.

I mean, Galo's first confrontation with the cops is more hostile than his confrontation with Lio, the "terrorist" he's there to stop.

I even love how the two face-offs are animated: the open sky and bright colors on the left and the darker contrast and Galo's shadowed eyes on the right.

And when Galo scoffs at the idea of Burnish needing to eat, Lio just…educates him. (After calmly and reasonably throwing fire in his face.) And Galo apologizes. And that changes things between them.

I've seen a ton of meta for Promare over the years, so I'm not adding anything new. I just love the character work in this story so much, I always come back to it when I'm designing my own characters.

At the start of the scene, Galo believes unquestioningly in Kray and sees Lio as his enemy.

But once Lio makes him realize that there are cracks in his understanding of the world, he goes looking for answers.

Literally in the next scene!

Galo's fucking great. He's an active protagonist who completely changes his worldview by the end of the movie. He's just a model protagonist in that sense, and I love him. <3

[that-student-that-has-homework]

🍉Fics for Gaza 🍉 UPDATED

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Genshin Impact

Rationality of Emotion Chapter 3 (Al-Haitham x Reader)

Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 2600 Estimated Final: ~5000-7000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2400 - 4000 words

You WILL Have my Herbs Chapter 7 (Diluc x Reader)

Word Count Stats: Current: 5200 Estimated Final: ~7000 - 8000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1800 - 2300 words

Jujutsu Kaisen

How to Write a Gojo x Reader Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: Some more insights as to your friendship with Gojo and his adopted children. Gojo also has to deal with the fact that you won't be single forever and he has some things to say before he has to deal with Shibuya. Word Count Stats: Current: 216 word Outline Estimated Final: ~2000 - 4000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2000 - 3500 words

One Piece

🍉PORTGAS D. ACE🍉

Louder than Words Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: More fluff with a touch of therapy for Ace Word Count Stats: Current: 3200 words Estimated Final: ~5000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1800 words

That Went a Little Too Well  

Summary: You’re being bullied by the local mean girls for thinking Fire Fist was better looking than Cavendish. He’s flattered. Oh yeah, turns out he was actually on the island. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 300 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2200 - 3700 words

🍉TRAFALGAR LAW 🍉

Therapeutic

Oneshot + Could be Platonic Summary: The Strawhats rescue a spa worker from slave traffickers. She gives the crew and their guest spa treatments. Needless to say the ever so tense, ever so stressed Captain of the Heart Pirates needs a decent amount of work. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 740 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1760 - 3260 words

🍉RORONOA ZORO🍉

Admiration

Summary: You let slip how you admired Zoro’s commitment to his goals. Now he’s teaching you how to commit to yours. Notes: Fluffy. 1-2 chapters. Unsure if platonic or romantic. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 260 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2240 - 3740 words

Haikyuu

I’ll Marry Ya/Marriage Pact Part 2 (Miya Osamu X Reader)

Part 2 to this Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 1560 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 940 - 2440 words

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Things I generally write for:

fem reader inserts

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Fandoms:

JJK

AoT

Haikyuu

One Piece

Ace of the Diamond

Genshin Impact

Fire Emblem Three Houses

[confessedlyfannish]

Six Years Ago

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Fortunately for them, the kid isn't good at subtlety. When he appears it is usually with a delayed boom announcing his arrival, like a crack of thunder to his lightning. And a hood pulled low over someone's face doesn't mean much when there's only one preteen in the world who can blow a fire out with his bare breath while floating in midair.

Unfortunately for them the kid is fast, see aforementioned "sonic boom". That is not to say Danny could not follow him anyway, but after the eighth time he heads to one of the kid's rescues and he flees before Danny can get a word out, Ellie is sitting at his kitchen counter heating up his leftovers.

"You need to cool it," she says, using her fang to pop open a sapporo. "He doesn't want to be found right now."

"Yeah, I got that." Danny says, swiping the beer out of the hands of what is technically a fourteen year old. She shoots him a scowl as the microwave dings.

"He's a child, and he's sick, Ellie." Even if Frostbite hadn't said as much, it hasn't escaped Danny's notice that in the past two months his speed has ever so slightly slowed. A particularly brave emergency worker had scolded Phantom for scaring him off this time around, concerned about his thin wrists.

"Gee, a sick child runaway, I wonder who that reminds me of," she says, tapping at her chin. She douses the chicken lo mein in sriracha.

"That's different. You knew to come find me, when it got bad. This kid is afraid of me." And he was. Whenever he and Danny met eyes the kid would go pale(r) with fear before zipping away.

"So make him less afraid."

Danny gapes at her. "Gee," he says slowly, a mimicry of her earlier sarcasm. "Why didn't I think of that."

"You're literally stalking the kid right now, you think I don't know about Tucker's alert system? Right now you must seem like the boss monster that shows up at the end of the level," Ellie says. "You need to approach this differently. Go slow, the way you did with me." She pauses, mouth twisting in a way that signals she's about to be reluctantly vulnerable with him.

"I didn't know what it was like to be...cared about. Properly. Before you guys. Even with the memories," she taps her head with the chopsticks, "It didn't click. But you showed me you would be there for me, even as you respected that I needed my space. You taught me how to trust you."

Danny takes a lengthy pull from the bottle he's still holding. "I can't be patient with him, Ellie," he says. He fiddles with the edge of the peeling label. "He's going to get worse."

"Yeah." Ellie says. "And I think you should let him."

---

The first time the backpack appears, Jon takes one look at the post-it with the scribbled stylized D and ":)" on it and tosses the whole thing in the trash before taking off.

He does the same the next four times, even as the backpack gets bulkier, its contents crashing together as it hits the nearest available dumpster.

He's in New York City after he saves a window washer from falling twenty stories when he sees his face plastered on a Times Square billboard. A hotdog stand owner in New York City offers him one on the house which he reluctantly accepts, trying to ignore the man's searching gaze.

He's not an idiot. He knows he's starting to look like crap, if the way the people react when they see him means anything. It's not like he smells, he regularly bathes in clean streams and lakes, but even when he eats coconuts and mangos and wild raspberries until his stomach is bursting and he has spent the last five minutes petting a giraffe on the head, feeling so giddy he almost forgets how his family is gone—he feels...strange. Weaker. The cuts on his side and face from the evil robot with the green eyes have slowly scarred pink, and they still pull and sting if he stretches. Jon's never had a scar before, and now he has six. And he's losing weight.

A lot of the people he meets have been super nice about it, offering him food and, in a particularly cold area of Alaska, a zip up hoodie he now wears over his recognizable family crest. Not that doing so has stopped the white-haired guy from finding him. But it has allowed Jon to move around more freely when he isn't out rescuing people. He even made some cash in Wisconsin cleaning up a grocery store before the night shift manager had recognized his face.

This and the billboard means he stops to buy a pair of cheap glasses and a large t-shirt with the NYC skyline and shorts on it from a tourist shop. After, he takes a bus to New Jersey with the last of his money and changes in the bathroom. He bites back a sniffle when he peels his superhero costume from his body. He's suddenly overcome, poking a finger through the slashes in the side, and spends the rest of the trip with his head buried in his knees, trying to keep his hiccups quiet.

When he exits, he heads to the library he's already visited three times before. It's bad, to develop a routine like this when he is actively being hunted, but he can't help himself any more than he can help the way he sometimes sleeps in that barn in Kansas, the few times he feels like he can actually rest, surrounded by the familiar smell of animal and hay.

As he searches a few more terms that predictably turn up nothing on the public computer, he notes bitterly it's not like the man can't find him anyway. Just because he's backed off doesn't mean he isn't around, silently threatening Jon with randomly appearing backpacks. Each backpack is different too, as if Jon might be taking issue with the color purple rather than the scary guy providing them.

Jon pushes away from desk, waiting for the inevitable wave of despair that hits him after each Google session proves fruitless. He's even, in one moment of lunacy, searched Talia Al Ghul, thinking if anyone can find him after his search pings her servers it's her—

But she never did come.

No one has.

Except for him.

The wave today is muted, lapping at his ankles rather than bowling him over, and somehow the resignation that accompanies it hurts more. He wants to do something, anything, and so he scoots back to the cubicle and types in white haired flying man, d symbol.

This is the first time he learns about Phantom.

---

The boy has started taking the backpacks.

Each one is filled with fresh meals in glass tupperware, meant to last for a while even without refrigeration (though with the boy's ice breath, maybe it's not a problem), as well as ziploc baggies filled with pretzels and carrots and goldfish and celery sticks.

("no peanut butter, he might have a nut allergy!"

"Wouldn't that have come up in Frostbite's scan?"

"You think Frostbite would've thought amidst scanning a little boy's half-alien body to check for a peanut allergy?"

"...Fair enough")

Alongside the meals are cash in the form of U.S. dollars, pounds, euros, yen, yuan, and an extreme hail mary in the form of an ATM card that Ellie rolls her eyes at every time Danny packs it.

There is also a miniature first aid kit, sans medicine but including ice and heat packs you can shake to activate. Danny wedges folded clothing in the spare edges of the bag, a blanket, and forces the zipper closed over a pair of high top sneakers similar to the ragged ones the boy wears. He tops every one with the same post-it drawing of his symbol, and a smiley face.

The boy is still weakening, beginning to look like a strong wind could blow him over even as he zips through mudslides in Colombia and scoops a father and son out of a rip current in Italy, but as he accepts the backpacks Danny listens to Ellie and waits.

And then one day Danny is watching him push a bus away from the edge of a sinkhole in Mexico, school kids pressed against the rear windshield watching him, and Danny hears the creaking of his bone right before the kid's arm snaps.

"Okay, fuck this," Danny says into the Fenton comms as the child wails, swooping down to grab the boy with one arm and the bus with the other.

The boy is too stunned to react, sobbing with pain as he cradles his arm protectively, and Danny shamelessly takes advantage of that as he gently but hurriedly places the bus beside the crowd of spectators.

A very small woman who immediately beelined for him as he landed smacks him in the shoulder, hissing at him in Spanish while several people try to hold her back. She smacks him again.

"I'm trying to help him. I promise. Ayuda." Danny says, shifting the boy into a more comfortable bridal carry.

"Ayuda? Help? You, you bad! El pobre niño." The woman sneers. "Bad! ¡Mal Fantasma! ¡Eres un padre horrible!"

Danny knows what padre means, and even if he didn't, he's heard the rumors and conspiracies (and maybe even leveraged them in a conversation with the U.S. government, who can say) and he doesn't bother denying it, because the truth is he has let this child down from the moment he allowed him to be hunted on Skulker's island, and he deserves every nasty word and more.

"Yeah. I know," he tells the woman. In his ear, Sam demands to know what's happening. The boy is incoherent with pain, the outline of the bone pressing against his skin.

"It's going to be okay," Danny tells him, lifting off the ground. Regret is sour in his gut, bile on his tongue. What was he thinking? In the curl of his arms, the child is so small. This isn't a stray cat one coaxes into their home. This is a terrified little boy.

Danny isn't a fourteen-year-old too young and stupid to recognize he shouldn't let a two-month-old clone explore the world with his blessing. He's twenty-eight. He needs to get a grip.

He needs to be better.

The world stops. Everything goes quiet.

A blue portal unwinds via the hands of time.

"I see you're ready now." Clockwork says to him.

Danny wants to deny it, but the words are stuck in his throat. What use is denying what Clockwork already knows to be true?

"This is the right choice, Danny. Everything will be as it should be. Help him," Clockwork nods at the child. "Then find me."

Danny's tongue unsticks from his mouth. "Only if you tell me. If I do this, will he be safe? Will I have the power to protect him?" An echo of what waits to be unlocked drapes over his words, cracks appearing in the ground at his feet. "Tell me."

"Yes. You will keep him safe. Until he no longer needs you to do so. Here."

With a wave of his staff, a neon green portal rends through the air.

Clockwork drifts back to his own portal. "I will see you in Time, Danny."

Danny nods at him as he leaves, feeling a contract snap into place as time restarts at a crawl.

"Shh kiddo," he says as the boy, gradually unfreezing, trickles tears. "I've got you. You'll be okay. I'm going to fix this. I promise."

He steps through the portal, towards whatever comes next.

Part 5

[salem-witch-slut]

Of Bartenders and Bodyguards

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader x Abby Anderson

SYNOPSIS: After a disaster goes down at the bar the night before Thanksgiving, Abby and Ellie come to your rescue and the two quickly become all you can think about.

WARNINGS: Offensive words used (such as dyke, rape), mentions of sexual assault, alcohol, Ellie typical violence, polyamory, reader described as femme

WORD COUNT: 4.8K

A/N: You guys have been waiting for this one to come back. So here's this, and I'm currently working on a part 2, so look out for that!

Dividers made by @cafekitsune

The night started out as any other night.

Prep for service, make ordered drinks, clean up after, check IDs to make sure the bouncer at the door didn’t overlook anything, and stay vigilant in order to not let anything bad happen in the club. After doing this for 3 years, you could say she was a bit of an expert on spotting bullshit and diffusing chaos. She’s seen it all and dealt with it all.

“Ready for tonight?” The auburn-haired bartender glanced up from the countertop, pausing her knife strokes in cutting up various fruits she knew that she would need for the many cocktails she would make that evening. Leaning on the freshly wiped down countertop, the tall and muscular blonde woman wearing that freshly ironed button-up black collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up just under her elbows and the matching black dress pants. Her hair was pulled back in that same braid she almost always had, and those black fingerless gloves that the bartender had a massive thing for all the time.

“Psssh,” The bartender smirked, handing the headset over from under the countertop and watching the blonde hook it up to her ear. “I’m a professional, always.”

“Try not to threaten anyone tonight, Ellie?”

“I’m good, Abby. 100 percent. The gun will stay under the counter, I promise.”

Abby smirked before she watched Ellie offer her a glass from under the countertop. Before Abby could accept it, she raised a brow and smelled the liquid in the glass. “Just seltzer, right?”

“Dude, I’m not trying to get fuckin’ fired tonight,” Ellie began placing several bottles underneath the bar and folded up some of the towels under the counter, lining the edge of her station. She looked at the clock and saw it was 8:47 PM. Only a little while longer until the doors opened up.

Abby quickly downed said seltzer and left the glass on the countertop, giving Ellie a small wink before she took her own place at the front of the club to watch everything that was going on. All of the workers were bustling around to get ready for tonight’s service. It was bound to be insane; it was something that the service industry called Black Wednesday. An influx of out-of-towners would be flooding inside the day before Thanksgiving and the max capacity would be reached in a matter of an hour.

When the clock struck 9, patrons began to flood in almost uncontrollably. Abby was her usual broody self, standing in the corner, prepared to throw someone out in a moment’s notice, watching over everything like some gargoyle on the rooftop of a chapel.

Her arms were crossed, accentuating those gorgeous muscles in that shirt as the hours carried on until almost midnight. She had thrown out several individuals so far, and Ellie had been true to her word; the pistol under the counter for emergencies had stayed strapped to the wood, the safety on, but preloaded and ready to use just in case. Hopefully it wouldn’t be like it was on Halloween when Ellie genuinely had to threaten someone before they jumped over the counter.

The night had been going smoothly so far… So far.

The next flood of customers came in, and Abby had seen many individuals enter the bar that night… she’s seen so many girls come in, wearing the shortest skirts and the tightest dresses known to mankind, and she didn’t ever bat an eye… Until she saw you.

When you entered the club, her heart skipped and she openly gaped. She had never seen anybody quite like you before… A wine-colored blouse with off-shoulder bell sleeves down to your wrists, and a white pleated skirt that was short enough to cover your rear but leave almost all of your thigh on display. And somehow, you found red heels the same shade as your shirt, which anyone knew was nearly impossible. There was a gilded hairclip in your locks in the shape of a rose, the edges golden and shiny, and there was a butterfly tattoo on the back of your neck.

Abby’s never faltered before… well, maybe when she met Ellie for the first time during her training? But beyond that, she’s never been speechless before. There was only one problem, though… That man with his arm wrapped around your waist, skimming dangerously close to your ass. Every few seconds, you would force his hand back up, but he would continue to push the envelope, pissing him off by the millisecond.

When you two sat down at the bar, the man snapped his fingers in Ellie’s direction as she spoke to another patron. At hearing the sound of fingers snapping over the booming music, followed up by a whistle, she openly rolled her eyes at the man who dare interrupt her.

“I’ll be right with you,” She snapped, accepting the $100 that the other patron gave her. She folded up the bill, stuffed it into her apron pocket before standing in front of the arrogant man, and then she looked at you. Her cheeks went pink, and she had to grab at her shirt for a second to calm herself down.

You were gorgeous… But you looked embarrassed. Was it because the man called Ellie over like she was a fucking dog?

“What can I get you two?” She spoke mostly to you, watching as your eyes lit up and you smiled warmly. It made her feel fuzzy inside for a second and she almost jumped out of her skin at hearing Abby’s voice inside of her headset.

“She’s adorable, isn’t she?” The blonde smirked, forcing Ellie to look up for a second. She resisted the urge to flip Abby off and waited patiently for the order.

“Two margaritas,” The man spoke quickly, and without even looking in your direction. You had this face of disdain and before you could speak out, he hushed you. “You’ll love it, I promise. Best thing this place has to offer.”

“Actually,” Ellie butted in. “All of our drinks are good, so she doesn’t need to get—”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” The man barked, his unkempt brows creasing with aggression. Ellie didn’t even flinch but looked disgusted as she turned to look at you, seeing the poor puppy-dog eyes from you and all of her anger began to melt away at how guilty you acted. Of course, the bastard man wasn’t done insulting her yet. “Just do your job, dyke.”

“Michael!” You shouted, your voice almost piercing the air as you bristled with this uncomfortable air around you. He barely even looked at you as Ellie leaned on the counter for a second, licking at her lips and giving a soft little click to the underside of her teeth before walking off and doing what he asked for.

“C’mon baby, she was askin’ for that,” The man, Michael, reached out and gently grabbed at your chin. Even from where she was standing, Abby could see you were uncomfortable. And when Ellie returned with the drinks, Michael reached down once again and this time, grabbed a handful of your ass. Abby’s fist curled into the fabric of her shirt, and she seethed with anger at how you reacted. It would be different if you liked what he did, but you looked disgusted.

Very carefully, you grabbed at the drink in front of you and gave a little sip before immediately putting it down. It was clear that you didn’t like it but couldn’t speak out because of the death grip this asshole had on you. His hand was now on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt, and you looked absolutely frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights.

It wasn’t until everyone was distracted that Abby saw something that had her moving almost instantly in your direction. One of the servers dropped a glass on the ground and the sound had everyone, including you, looking in that direction. And in that split second moment, your so-called date slipped something into your drink.

The packet of white powder was dumped in the liquid and fizzed before dissolving almost immediately.  When you went back to the drink to try it again, a hand closed around the glass, making you look up in surprise. Abby took the glass from your hands, putting it on the counter and leaning down to speak so you didn’t need to strain to hear her.

“Don’t drink that, sweetheart.”

Abby felt you shiver as she gently released your wrist, looking at the man next to you who was glaring at her, fire burning in his eyes. Before he could say a single thing, Abby got Ellie’s attention as she was in the middle of handing off a scotch to another customer.

“Ellie, call the police,” Abby said without hesitation, making you immediately fear for the worst. The drink in front of you looked unsuspecting, and then Abby watched you slowly dip your pinky finger into the alcoholic beverage. Everybody watched as your blue nail polish turned purple and your entire face twisted in abstract rage.

“You tried to…” Michael stood out of his seat, almost like he was going to run away. Your voice faltered as you looked at Ellie, and then to Abby, your heart twisting uncomfortably in your chest. Almost like an instinct, your fists curled into the fabric of your dress. “Why?”

“Come on baby,” Michael smirked. “You been playin’ hard to get for weeks now. You come out, dressed like that, and think I ain’t fuckin’ tonight?”

His entire demeanor made Abby even more pissed off. She heard Ellie call the police almost immediately after he spoke and very cautiously approached the man. “Sir, you’re gonna want to stay away from her.”

“Don’t even try that shit,” Michael jeered, still grinning like a wolf. “Look at her; she’s askin’ for it.”

Very slowly, you sat back down on your stool and felt a single tear race down your cheek. Michael wasn’t the nicest person, but he never acted like this before… Was tonight just a ploy to get you in bed with him? You had been seeing him for a few weeks now, and every time you gave a small kiss on his cheek before you went back home.

And each time, he acted more and more agitated and short-fused. And now it was making sense why; Michael was pissed you didn’t put out on day one… That’s what you get for using Tinder, huh?

Ellie could see your hands shaking as you went to clutch at your chest, trying not to look at Michael and focus on anything else. Ellie hung up the phone and looked at Abby, simply holding up four fingers and then tapping the inside of her wrist. After working with each other for 3 years, they knew how to communicate basic things without needing words. The cops would be there in four minutes, and she told Abby to restrain him.

“You need to back off, now,” Abby said, calmly and collectively. Michael was on the opposite end of the spectrum and began screaming immediately.

“Don’t fucking talk to me, bitch! I’m not goin’ anywhere,” He got closer and closer to Abby and you began to get back off the stool, backing away and nearly stepping into another patron in the process. Michael noticed this, and he went to reach for your arm… and then, all hell broke loose.

Abby reacted first. Her veined hand wrapped around Michael’s wrist and she pulled his entire arm over his head, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming his face down onto the counter. Ellie watched as the man struggled, kicking at Abby’s shins to try and get her to let go. The sound of a gun cocking had Michael finally going still and he looked up, staring down the barrel of a pistol in Ellie’s hand.

“Think again, motherfucker,” Ellie hissed, her tattooed arm flexing as she held the gun to his face. The safety was still on, but she wouldn’t hesitate to fire a clip directly into his skull if necessary. The look of terror on your face spoke volumes as you wrapped both arms around your body and began to slowly sink down onto the floor. Tears flowed freely and you curled in on yourself… It was truly a heartbreaking sight to see.

When the cops finally showed up, Abby all but tossed Michael in their direction, watching the man get shoved in the back of a police car. And unfortunately, because of this kind of incident, the bar had to be shut down. Police were swarming all over the place, and the owner decided the best course of action was to close the doors for the night. It would kill his revenue, but it was better than people being scared away by the police.

Abby was the first to give her statement to the cops, and then Ellie, and finally, you.

You had mostly been in shock the entire time, sitting on an outside seat as the officer questioned you. He asked you if this kind of thing had happened before, to which you responded no, but gave him the details about how Michael got more and more aggressive with each date you two went on.

As you sat there, with your face in your hands, you could hear the cops talking as they ran a screening on Michael… “Fake ID. Mitchell Loomis, arrested for aggravated and sexual assault… was released on parole last month.”

And then suddenly, you felt like the biggest idiot in the world. You willingly went out with a criminal. And not just any kind of criminal; no, you were dating a rapist! And had it not been for Abby and Ellie, you would have probably been next! You looked up at the two women who acted like your guardian angels that night, and you immediately started crying again.

Your sobs were so quiet that no one could hear you. Ellie was too busy beating herself up, looking down at her shoes and grumbling in anger. “Fuck, they were sitting right in front of me. How did I not see it?”

Abby frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder. “El, it’s the busiest damn night of the year. One person can’t see everything… that’s why I’m there to watch your back, yeah?”

“I know,” Ellie sighed, rubbing at her forehead and flinching at the cold air ruffling up her short auburn locks. The November air was especially brutal tonight, and Ellie suddenly got worried about you. Considering what you had been wearing, you must have been freezing. She looked over and saw you curled forward in the chair, your entire face buried into your thighs as your tears stained the fabric of your skirt. “Shit, poor thing…”

“Come on,” Abby tugged on Ellie’s sleeve before they both approached you. When Ellie reached down to gently place a hand on your shoulder, you shot back up, eyes wide and bloodshot with fear before you relaxed, seeing their faces.

“Easy, easy…” Abby knelt down in front of you, reaching her hand out and gently placing the warm skin against your cheek. You immediately grabbed at her wrist and pushed your face into her palm, tears staining her knuckles as your makeup smeared. Even with your runny mascara and lipstick stains on your face, you still looked beautiful even in this moment. “You’re okay… you’re fine, it’s alright.”

“I feel… so stupid…” You said through hiccups, tears tracking down your cheeks. You stared into Abby’s gunmetal blue irises, trying to find a reason to calm down. It felt like someone was squeezing her heart, you looked so shattered. “H-how could I… n-not see this coming?”

“It’s okay,” Ellie sat on the table next to you, reaching out and gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before she softly caressed your jaw. The action was comforting, even if her hands had rough callouses on them. “It could’ve happened to anybody, you know… I’m actually impressed you have that nail polish. That’s ingenious, actually.”

The color had gone back to blue in the time you had been sitting down and you looked at your semi-short nails. Ever since you began your Tinder escapade, you had purchased the special nail polish, just in case something bad happened. You wore it all the time, and it was a plus that it was a pretty color too, so no one expected a thing… And now, you just wanted to take it off. You had done it to every single drink before tonight, but not this time… why not this time?

Very slowly, Ellie was removing her jacket and draped it over your shoulders in order to try and keep you warm. The shivers began to slowly subside, and you pushed your face into the tough leather, inhaling the scent that rolled off of it. You could smell rustic like cologne, and something that reminded you of your dad in a weird way, and you instantly felt better.

Abby noticed how you were pushing your whole face in Ellie’s jacket, and she elbowed the bartender when she smirked at the blonde. Suddenly, it felt like a competition to see who could comfort you more and you calmed down in seconds with how sweet and doting they were both acting. Ellie had gotten you a bottle of water and Abby was holding your hands the entire time to try and keep you focused on anything else but what happened to you that night.

When the minutes carried on, the night got later and later… Until you looked down and saw what time it was on Abby’s watch, you had been fine. And then, you jumped up from the chair, making Ellie nearly fall off the table she was perched on. You reached down and grabbed Abby’s wrist, her cheeks turning a soft pink at your grip. “Ohmygod, is that the time?!”

You pulled out your phone and began to aggressively type something into your phone. “Oh fuck, finding a damn Uber is gonna be like… $50 right now? Are you kidding me?” The emotions crossing your face were wild, making Ellie and Abby worry at the same time. Both of them stood up as you began pacing like mad, hair whipping in the wind and the cold having you shivering again.

Just as Abby glanced down, seeing your knees wobble, her face got even redder as a certain gust of wind lifted your skirt, but you were far too frantic to notice. Wow, even your panties were white, how cute!

“If you want,” Ellie stepped forward, holding her hands in front of her and gently tugging on her fingers with a certain sad look that made your heart ache. “I uhm… I could take you home?”

“El, after what happened tonight—”

“Just straight to your home,” Ellie defended herself against Abby’s words. Your face turned a deep red as you looked at the price of the Uber on your phone, and then back up to Ellie… The woman who had threatened your date with a weapon for you… Could she be trusted? “I promise you’ll get there safe.”

After many minutes of being worried, you decided that getting into the bartender’s car was somehow safer than getting into a complete stranger’s car. And yes, Ellie was a stranger, but… If you tried to rationalize any harder, you would get a headache. “Okay. Yeah, sure, I would really appreciate that, miss.”

Ellie pulled her keys out of her pocket and looked at Abby once again, watching her roll her eyes. She put a hand in her pocket and fiddled with the lighter inside of her pants, attempting to calm herself down when she watched Ellie wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you towards her 1989 K5 Blazer. The deep blue color and shiny exterior made you slightly nervous.

The gorgeous bartender opened the door for you, giving a soft smile before she noticed that you looked uncomfortable. Ellie immediately frowned. “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?”

“I…” You hesitated. It wasn’t that you were nervous about her being in the car with you. No, it was something else. “I feel like I’ll degrade the value of your car if I get in…”

Ellie chuckled slightly before she watched you slide into the passenger seat and slowly closed the door behind you. The car smelled so clean, like leather polish and an air freshener. Your stomach twisted a little in you as Ellie quickly joined on your left side, kicking the car into gear and heading down the road.

“You’ll have to guide me there, sweetheart,” Ellie smiled, turning the heat on to a comfortable level and keeping both hands on the steering wheel. “You can turn on the radio if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m okay,” You mumbled, leaning back into your seat and pushing your face into the side of Ellie’s jacket. It kept you so warm, and it smelled so nice… You wish you knew more about its owner. You had climbed inside of this car, and you didn’t even know this bartender’s name. Your face turned a soft shade of pink as you looked over at the woman driving, and you felt your heart skip like rocks on a river.

She was beautiful… Absolutely breathtaking. The soft curve of her nose, those intense green eyes, the freckles that dappled her cheeks and forehead, the various tiny scars littering her skin, and the intense scar over her eyebrow; the shade of her hair tied back in that half up, half down fashion, the sharpness of her jawline, the slight pout of her top lip…

If you had met her before tonight… someone would need to drag you out of the bar kicking and screaming to get you to leave her alone. And then, your thoughts wandered to the blonde bouncer that spotted what happened in the first place. What was her name?

That woman was… wow. You remembered how her brows creased when she first approached you. The warmth of her veined, massive hand that closed around your wrist. You could feel her strength without it even being shown, as she was so gentle and caring with you even though her job was to be the enforcer. The caress of said hand against your cheek in the cold weather outside, how she smiled when you two talked so casually, the way her bottom lip snagged under her teeth when she bit it to try and hold back a giggle… Fuck, they were both hot!

Before you knew it, Ellie was pulling up to your apartment building. You frowned for a second and glanced over at her before reaching into the top of your dress to pull out a collection of bills that you prepared for tonight. There was about $150 stashed away inside your bra and Ellie did not miss you removing it either. She blushed a deep crimson and bit down on her lip as you flipped through the bills and attempted to hand her a $20. “That should cover the gas to get me here, right?”

Ellie gave a breathy chuckle, smiling and closing her eyes for a brief second. The sound of her deep, grumbly laugh had you squirming in your seat. “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Knowing you are home, safe and sound is payment enough for me.”

And just like that, you were back to turning red. You bit down on your bottom lip and tucked the money back into your bra, inhaling deeply and going to step out of the car before Ellie was ripping off her seatbelt and nearly jumping over the jeep’s hood to get to your door in time. She opened it up and offered her hand for you, which you accepted without question this time around.

“Allow me, miss,” She smirked, winking at you as she walked you inside of the building and towards your door on the third floor. As soon as you reached the apartment door, you fumbled with your keys for a brief second before turning around and looking at Ellie who tucked both hands into her pocket.

Honestly, you expected for things to go south… after the night you had, it would make perfect sense for shit to go wrong right now, right? But Ellie was true to her word. She kept her hands to herself and stayed a person’s length away from you at all times, only admiring you with her eyes. Before you could fully step inside your apartment, you immediately jumped in place.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Very slowly, you pulled Ellie’s jacket off your shoulders and handed it back to her. She accepted the leather wordlessly and tucked it over her arm. “Thank you… I… I don’t even know your name, miss.”

“Ellie,” She bowed her head, that loose lock of auburn hair falling in front of her face for a second before she tucked it back behind her ear. She held her hand out for you to take, which you did without realizing and then, you were blushing once more!

The bartender bent down and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, like you were a princess. Her lips were soft and gentle as she kissed your skin and then immediately released your hand, looking up at you and bowing her head with respect. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’m happy you’re safe and that we were able to help you.”

And as quick as she was in your life, she was getting on the elevator and leaving without another word. You leaned against the door and frowned, putting a hand over your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. “Goodbye… Ellie…”

Abby looked up from the phone, her hair still damp and dark after her shower. The front door opened up and she watched Ellie drop the keys on the table next to the entrance and slam her entire body against the wooden surface to shut it behind her. Ellie had this silly little smile on her face and Abby just rolled her eyes and leaned back. “You didn’t make her uncomfortable, did you?”

“I don’t think I did,” Ellie draped her jacket over the back of the reclining chair and flopped down next to Abby, leaning up and gently kissing her cheek. “Tonight, was definitely one of the more exciting ones, yeah?”

“Your tellin’ me,” Abby rolled her shoulders a bit as she looked at her phone, double checking to make sure she wasn’t on schedule tomorrow. She and Ellie had the day off together, which was a luxury few could afford due to the holiday. “Gotta go in tomorrow to pick up my paycheck though, that sucks.”

“Before open, babe,” Ellie said, standing back up and slowly unbuttoning her white shirt, untucking it from her dark denim jeans and tossing it onto the couch next to Abby who immediately locked her phone just to watch the show. Ellie smirked, stripping her clothes off piece by piece until she was standing in just her sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna shower, okay?”

Before Ellie could walk off, Abby was gently grabbing her hand. “Wait, hold on. I… I had uh… something I had to ask.”

“Yes?” Ellie smiled warmly.

“You remember when we talked about… having a uhm… you know, a polyamorous thing? Bringing another girl in with us?” Abby stumbled on her words, her cheeks heating up as she thought about you and how sickeningly adorable you were. “You think that uh… maybe she could—”

“Abby,” Ellie reached down and ran her entire hand across Abby’s cheek, rubbing her jawline and making the blonde lean hard into her touch. If she had a tail, it would be wagging. “If we ever see her again? Maybe. But we don’t even know if she’s into girls, or if she likes both of us.”

“Were we lookin’ at the same girl?” Abby chuckled. “She may as well have a bisexual flag tattoo on her forehead, El.”

“Okay, point taken,” Ellie smiled. You did give off bi vibes, and that was the only reason she felt confident enough to give you that hand kiss without pissing herself. And when you didn’t shove her away, it was a very good sign. “But still, she has to like us both… But I mean, not to brag, but I’m pretty sure she likes me more.”

Abby was on her feet in seconds, racing after Ellie as they both went into the bedroom where the shorter woman stepped into the bathroom. “I beg to differ! She only likes you more now because you got to flirt with her! That’s an unfair advantage—”

“Excuses, excuses,” Ellie mocked, sticking her tongue out and hopping into the shower to clean off the smell of alcohol from her skin. “If we see her again, I bet I take her out on a date before you do!”

“Oh, it is so on, Williams.”

“What’s the prize for the winner?” Abby didn’t even need to see Ellie to know she was smirking.

Abby grinned like a wolf. “Loser gets strapped.”

“Ooooh, almost want to lose now, baby.”