#I am my spouse's agent okay

[ardentfervour]

“Do it again,” Aziraphale says, marginally more levelled, hands tightly fisted at his sides.

“Do—what?” Crowley doesn’t need to ask, he knows. In the same desperate way he’s known about need and want, and that if he could kiss Aziraphale a thousand times over one fell swoop, he would.

“Do it again,” this time, it’s not remotely composed, sounds more broken, like cracks in a wall coming undone from millennia of silent inclinations.

“Angel,” Crowley starts, ever so quiet, swallows, and really the air is too thick. (...continue reading Heaven in Hiding by verovex on ao3)

[writingmeraki]

be there when I wake up — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you love mingyu in all states of your mind, whether sober or drunk out of your limit.

( or it seems even when you're drunk you don't recognise him but you still love him with your whole heart. )

pairing : secret agent! husband mingyu x secret agent! spouse reader. warnings : mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, reader almost has a breakdown (?). genre : fluff, romance. a/n : more of them, I can't get enough I have too much to write on them😔 let me know what you think of this 💌!! not proofread (this was very random pls I am absolutely NOT procrastinating my other wips, ignore errors pls it's lit 5am 😴 )

word count : 1.3k

part of this au !

It felt like you were on cloud nine, feet light as you walked and head filled with nothing.

Being drunk tends to do that to you at least.

Today, when Mingyu and you got your well deserved day off, he decided it was time for you to be the one to let yourself loose.

Not that he never did let you but usually you were the one who assigned yourself as the designated driver whenever it was just you two. Though being as thoughtful as he was, he made sure to never be too hectic for you to handle if he could do it himself.

And even then, he'd still do his best to stabilise himself albeit the attempts were always hilarious but the thought counted.

He held you tightly by your waist to his side, making sure you didn't fall or wander off somewhere because see while he was the type to be the clingy drunk, not leaving your side, you were the carefree one, wanting to fly away, perhaps even quite literally.

As your husband and more importantly lover, he did not want to entertain the idea of you hurting yourself by accident. Luckily, all the gym hours he’d spend building his muscles to impress his one and only lifetime crush (read:you) paid off, because you used him completely as a support to walk, leaning all your weight on him.

Your cheeks were warm, eyes half lidded, now the pain in your cheeks was prominent from smiling so much, it seemed you smiled more when drunk than sober in a few months. It wasn’t because you were emotionless but rather only smiled to those who deserve it, which was only a handful of people. Your husband is on the top of course.

Speaking of your husband, you suddenly paused in your steps, remembering him. Realising you were clinging onto someone, you pushed yourself away, smile dropping and being replaced by a frown while you glared.

Mingyu blinked once, twice, a little startled from being pushed away and even more when he saw your glare.

“You shouldn’t hold some stranger like that, mister.” You could make out the silhouette in front of you, but the face was a blur. The classic case of drunken forgetfulness.

“Babe-”

“BABE? Are you crazy? Only my husband can call me that! Which by the way.” You put out your left hand, pointing towards the shiny ring. The shiny ring he got you. “See!I’m married!”

“And-and I am very happy with my Gyu, I don’t need you- or or anyone courting me- I am very happy with my relationship sir.”

Fuck. Why did you have to say it like that?

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, there was no way he could even if he tried to. Only you could make him feel like the first time he'd ever have a crush on someone. His heart raced, almost too fast. He swears he can feel his chest fill with even more love.

“Okay, okay how about I get you to your car?”

“No mister! I re-refuse I don't want to go with you, where's Mingyu? Where's Gyu???”

You were whining at this point, finding your legs too tired so you ended up just sitting. Right in the middle of the pavement.

Mingyu’s eyes widened when you sat down but even more in panic, the smile dropping as he saw you bring your hands to your face.

You were crying.

“Where's Gyu? Did he leave me?” A hiccup came after the sentence, as your vision got more blurry with the tears flowing even more freely.

He rushed towards you squatting beside you, pulling you into his side.

“Honey, I'm here. Shh. I'm here.”

You looked up from your position, making sure to blink to clear out the tears and there he was. Your husband.

“Gyuuu” Your words slurred and choked up as you threw yourself at him. Him immediately wrapping his hands around you, still in the sitting position.

Your arms looped yourself around his neck as you put your head in the crook of his neck, still crying.

“I thought you le-left.”

“I'd never. I would never leave you.”

“Please don't.”

Slowly, he got up, pulling you gently up as well, still holding onto you and your entire weight now leaned on him.

“Come on, you wanna head home?” You pulled your face away from the nook, looking up at him as your sobs stopped turning to sniffles.

He moved one hand to hold your face as he caressed your cheek, pushing your stray hair strands behind your ears with delicate touches.

Your eyes began to droop, the side effects of being drunk slowly overcoming you. You just simply nodded as you put your head back to his comfy shoulder.

Sighing, he shook his head as he noticed your breathing slowing down, coming out in slow exhales, meaning you just passed out drunk.

He softly smiled as his hand still caressed your hair. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[ bonus cut : the following morning ]

You were sure this was your karma catching up to you because the way your head was splitting was surely due to your supposed horrible past deeds. There was no other reason.

“Good morning sunshine~”

“Zip. Shut. Shh. Not a word.”

Mingyu frowned, pouting at your harsh reply, but a small pity formed as he saw you wake up while holding your head in pain.

“That's mean.”

“Not mean enough, I will actually kill you.”

Being the ever so doting husband he was, he'd gotten up from your shared bed, made breakfast, your favourite food by the way, and even gotten ready for the day.

“Have this, you'll feel better so that maybe you can plan my murder better hm?”

And now there he sat down beside you on your bed, a painkiller in one hand with a glass of water.

You grabbed the water like you had never touched it in your existence, gulping it down along with the pill,even if it ended up spilling onto your clothes. You frankly don't care.

Mingyu gazed at you with the same adoration he always had. He loved you at all times, anytime. He just knew that he loves you. He didn't think he said it enough.

“I love you.” You almost choked on the water, gulping it down before it sprayed out. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I not say I love you to my spouse?” He honestly felt offended at the suspicious look on your face.

“Alright…”

Now it was his turn to squint at you in question, as if waiting for something.

“I guess I love you too.” You were pulling his leg, you loved to see that look on his face where it seemed as though someone had stepped on his tail. Like a puppy who’s tail had been stepped on by mistake

“I don't even want to talk to you. Bye.” He snatched the empty glass, glaring at you now, you knew it was not with any sort of malice, you knew him. He turned around, purposefully stomping and then you couldn't stop the laughter.

You burst out in giggles, clutching your stomach, the headache subsiding.

You threw off the blanket and rushed after him, hugging him from behind, hands barely wrapping around his large frame but it did stop him. You placed your face sideways on his back.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I love you. Like surely. One hundred percent.” You said still chuckling, the grin on your face not faltering.

He wasn't even upset in the first place, because the moment he heard your laugh, his own grin formed widely on his face.

“You mean it?”

“I do. Always did. And will.”

And perhaps this was what it meant to be loved. And to love.

for my dearest @etherealyoungk ; THIS IS A VERY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY WIFE 🫂 ( blame that on the fact that this was totally not what I planned to write for ur birthday 😔) I love you so much and I can't believe we got close this soon <3 I wish I could have known you before because it feels like I know you since so long, you're literally my soulmate like??? i hope you have an amazing year ahead soo here is ur fave couple as a present mwahh (mine too lowkey)

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ only, explicit smut)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dream/nightmare sequences, mentions of spouse death and hypothetical child death (in the dream sequence), angst, references to smut, m/m/m/f dynamics

Summary: Each Marcus deals with conflicting emotions after spending the night together.

A/N: WHOOPS, who let all the angst in here???? Sorry about that!

Masterlist | Chapter 6 | Next chapter>>

(Moreno)

Marcus Moreno is about to die. Alien tentacles ooze toward him out of a strange crack in the world itself, moving with terrifying speed. He can choose to draw his swords and ready himself, or to shove the people beside him away and out of danger, but not both. He’s somehow both controlling his body and observing the scene from the outside as he turns to see a pretty young woman with fierce eyes, a man dressed in Roman armor, and the FBI Agent he admires so much that it hurts. They all look at him with fear in their eyes as he lets out a strangled yell and throws them out of harm’s way with all of his strength. They land on the pavement several feet away, but it’s not far enough. The tentacles engulf them, and Marcus cries out in anguish as he draws his swords, slashing and hacking frantically, spilling thick, black blood everywhere as he tries to reach his loved ones.

He throws off the last of the writhing black mess, but somehow, the three people he had thought had been there before have changed. Now, only two bodies lie broken and bloodied on the pavement–one much smaller than the other. When he sees the eyes of his late wife staring unseeingly up at the sky, he drops to his knees with a guttural scream of grief and pain. He can’t bring himself to look at the second body, knowing exactly what he’ll see when he does. 

No, he whispers as tears fall down his cheeks. No, no, no, no–

He shoots up in bed, gasping for air. He’s soaked in sweat and shaking uncontrollably, heart still pounding in his chest from the remnants of the dream. It’s only when something shifts behind him, a broad, bare chest turning and facing the other direction does he remember he’s not alone. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his movements hadn’t woken anyone else. Carefully, he scoots down the bed, avoiding several pairs of legs, and retrieves his phone from the pocket of his discarded pants before retreating to the living room. 

Hey, he taps out a message. How’s college life?

He stands in the middle of the room, staring down at the bright screen and feeling rather awkward in his nudity, not really expecting a response at this time of night but wishing with every atom in his body for one anyway. 

He’s about to give up and try to force himself back to sleep when three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen.

M: Who’s asking, leader of the Heroics or my papá?

Marcus snorts softly.

Do I receive a different response depending on my answer?

M: 1. I am studying at the library, or 2. It’s dollar beer night at Lotus.

He smiles. 

I choose option 1, obviously.

M: The real question is what are YOU doing up so late? 

Couldn’t sleep. Just felt the need to check in on you. Everything okay?

M: Everything’s fine. Are YOU okay? You haven’t sent me Worried Dad texts in the middle of the night in a while.

Marcus begins tapping out a response, deletes it, starts again, and deletes that too. He sighs, glancing warily back at the bedroom. I’m afraid to let anyone else into my life, he wants to tell her. You’re my only success story, and I worry every day that I’m going to lose you, too. 

It’s too much to lay on his twenty-one year-old daughter, so he turns it into a joke instead.

I’m short on my Dad quota and wanted to make sure the Dad Boss doesn’t fire me.

M: You’re weird.

Ever heard the saying ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?’

The message is left unread for several minutes, and he imagines that her friends are all goading her to get off her phone and rejoin the fun. Good. He does all the worrying for both of them, so that she can remain carefree. He smiles softly and taps out one last text.

Have a good night, bug. Call me sometime. xo 

He locks his phone and holds it at his side, but remains standing in the same place, mulling over his thoughts. 

He hadn’t been exaggerating earlier when he said it had been a long time since he’d had… well, anyone really. The last time he’d had sex was during a disastrous no-strings-attached hookup after one of his coworkers convinced him to download some app and set up a profile. That was… shit, it had to be almost two years ago now. He hadn’t realized it had been quite that long. 

The last time he had a relationship was more of a trick question. He dated a few people on and off, once Missy had been able to mostly fend for herself at home, but they never lasted long or ever became serious. None of them had even met his daughter. The real answer to ‘when was your last relationship’ was ‘not since his wife died.’

It wasn’t just that no one could compare to her. It was that he couldn’t allow them the opportunity to even try. The closer people are to him, the more danger he puts them in. 

But ever since a certain FBI Agent waltzed into his office and asked so earnestly for his help, he found himself wanting to let someone in for the first time in a very long while. 

And now, to his great surprise and bewilderment, he has not just one more person he cares about, but three. Can he let himself get closer again? Can he afford to?

He looks at the book left open on the coffee table. At first he thinks there must be something wrong with his eyes, because the words all look like gibberish, but then he realizes the book is in Latin. Oh. Somehow he had forgotten that Marcus Acacius did not actually belong here. He can’t tell if the thought troubles him or relieves him–knowing that one less person will be in danger because of him.

The Heroic debates sleeping on the couch for a few moments, but the remnants of the dream still trickle unpleasantly through his bloodstream, and he doesn’t want to be alone. Carefully, he pads back into the bedroom and crawls back into the still-empty space that he had vacated. 

He lies awake for a long time, listening to the sound of breathing.

(Pike)

Marcus stirs, cracking open his eyes to see the first rays of daylight reflecting on the wall opposite your bedroom window. He rolls onto his back, being careful not to wake you as he turns over. Moreno is snoring softly beside him, looking peaceful. This is the only time he hasn’t seen worry lines etched on the man’s forehead, and he wonders about the burden of one man trying to protect the entire world. 

The Roman is already awake, piercing brown eyes meeting his with a mischievous twinkle. Marcus nods to him in greeting and gives him a small, crooked smile. The other man reaches over the Hero to run the tip of his index finger down the length of Marcus’s arm, and he shivers softly. 

“Early riser,” he comments in a whisper. 

“I have always risen with the sun.”

“Makes both of us,” Marcus grins. 

“And decidedly not our hostess.”

They both laugh quietly, not wanting to wake the other occupants of the bed. 

“Coffee?” he asks the Roman. 

“I would love some.”

Marcus helps himself to your kitchen, knowing exactly where you keep your coffee grounds and filters. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so at home in someone else’s space; he’s spent more time here over the past several weeks than he’s spent at his own apartment, and from the beginning he had secretly preened over the excuse to get to know you better.

At first, your temporary houseguest had been a slightly befuddling distraction–his distinctive presence ensured that he looked completely out of place in every environment, and his constant refrain of “Quid est, quid est, quid est” was equal parts endearing and frustrating. Marcus didn’t often feel like a small man, but he couldn’t deny that the way the General’s broad shoulders seemed to fill every room had him feeling some kind of way about it. 

It’s a fascination, he had told himself so many times. A temporary infatuation that’s distracting you from the woman of your dreams. 

When the translators were introduced, and the Roman’s sharp wit and mischievous sense of humor could be understood for the first time, the pull became even stronger. It didn’t help that the man seemed to be a shameless flirt with everyone–himself, you, and when Moreno began spending the odd evening here, him too. 

Even so, the events of the previous night had been so far beyond his imagination that he can hardly make sense of it. Marcus has always been a serial monogamist, hopping from one way-too-serious relationship to another and hoping against all odds that the next one wouldn’t end in disaster. He’s never been able to do anything that could remotely be considered casual.

He had no concept of what last night had meant. 

He pours the coffee into two mugs–dumping a fair amount of cream and sugar in one, and far less in his own–and hands one to Acacius. 

“You are pensive this morning,” he remarks, his voice still carrying a light rasp from sleep.

“Just thinking.”

“You and the Hero both strike me as men who are inclined to think themselves into an early grave.”

Marcus snorts. “That might be true.” Might be. Everyone he’s ever known has called him an over-thinker. “You're a great tactician when it comes to war,” he challenges the man. “Surely you appreciate the benefits of analysis.”

“There is analyzing a situation, and then there is helpfully standing in place wondering what action you are going to take while the enemy completely surrounds you.”

Marcus pauses, coffee cup halfway to his lips, and really looks at the man beside him, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. He tries to imagine him in the armor he had been wearing that first night, bruised and bloodied, leading the armies of Rome with a fierce battle cry. “I don't often find myself surrounded by an army.”

“The enemy can be many things. There is a word for this, no?”

“A metaphor?”

“Mmm,” he grunts in assent. “When is an army not really an army?”

Marcus smiles to himself, setting the mug down on the counter and staring into the middle distance. “So, what do you think my enemy is?”

The General looks him up and down. “The things that you carry with you.”

His eyes snap to Acacius in shock and surprise. The man is discerning–alarmingly so, at times. Marcus’s breath catches in his throat when he responds thickly, “What is it that you think I’m carrying?”

“This is not for me to know,” the man remarks casually, raising one eyebrow. “Unless you are wanting to tell me something?”

“What are you two chattering about?” your soft voice cuts through their conversation. Marcus turns to see you padding toward them wearing only a shirt and looking satisfyingly mussed. 

“A soldier that carries the weight of his past failure into the next battle will surely lose,” the General says cryptically. 

You stare at the two of them blankly. “Yeah, I’m gonna need some coffee if you’re going to be talking like that.” You look at Marcus shyly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” 

Marcus doesn’t know what to do. Does he kiss you? Is that rude? He wants to reach for you, to take you into his arms, but the two other men have him at a loss–how does one act after group sex? He has no blueprint for this situation.

“How lucky we are to have such a beautiful woman in front of us, still looking so well-fucked from our attentions last night.” The other man croons, moving closer to Marcus and nosing the shell of his ear. 

Feeling emboldened by the other man’s candor, he extends his arm to you, and you immediately fill the space perfectly, your head resting against his bare chest. Marcus presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With the General at his back, he feels completely surrounded by warmth–and wonders, despite himself, if he might be lucky enough to hold onto this feeling. The only thing better would be…

“Our other Marcus still asleep?” he jokes.

“The Hero was awake for some time in the night,” Acacius comments. 

Ah. That explains it. “We’ll let him sleep, then.”

“Or,” you say with a sultry smile, “or we could all three of us go back and… wake him up.”

(Acacius)

Marcus Acacius likes this more than anything else. More than any of the hedonistic acts that had come before, more than the thrill of building sexual tension between partners, is this: 

The utter decadence of sweaty, sated bodies, limbs tangled together… delicious. 

The hero lies boneless, half-sprawled over him. A man who has been pushed into a position of strength all his life, he finally appears free of all those expectations here. The General has always been able to read people, but it hardly took any effort at all to see that Marcus Moreno desperately craved the ability to let go. His breath shudders slightly on the exhale, and the other man curled around him makes a soft noise of inquiry.

“Feel okay?”

“Mmhmm,” the hero mumbles, not opening his eyes, and Acacius smiles.

The Agent, on the other hand, is much like himself, in that he seems to be just as comfortable in a position of power as he is in submission. Marcus hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off the man as he guided the hero through his first time receiving–gentle, but firm, one hand wrapped around the man’s cock and the other grasping his shoulder for leverage, his fingers always reaching possessively for his neck. Marcus Pike does not simply take a lover, the General concluded, he desires to own them.

It was that obvious possessiveness that had kept Marcus from insisting the Agent share with the others the night previous, allowing him to be the sole proprietor of your pleasure–but the way the man had shuddered at the sight of his beloved with his own thick cock down your throat gave him less qualms about the matter today.

And if that resulted in Marcus delighting in the hot, wet clutch of your cunt for himself, that was simply a fringe benefit, was it not? Oh, you were a sweet one, and it was easy to see why Pike was completely enraptured. You whimpered so beautifully when he broke you open for the first time, squirming around his cock with a little wrinkle of discomfort on your forehead. When the Agent reached down to palm your cheek and soothe you through it, you greedily sucked his thumb into your mouth and bit down gently, eliciting a soft groan from the man. 

Marcus eventually flipped you on your stomach to take you fast and hard, mirroring the intensity of the two men beside you. You were delirious, drunk on your own pleasure, but still had the presence of mind to reach out and stroke the cheek of the Hero, who was moaning into the pillow next to you. You smiled softly, seeing the other man’s overwhelmed expression, and moved yourself closer to him. The two of you were still tangled together when you reached the point of ecstasy.

You’re curled into Marcus’s chest now, your soft breaths disturbing the smattering of hair and your warm body leaving his own glistening with sweat. You beside him, the Hero sprawled bonelessly on top of him, and the Agent with his arm draped over top, his fingers brushing against the top of his pubic bone–and Marcus Acacius feels utterly at peace. 

[lxstfuleclipse]

hello♡

I just want more louis just like you.. so how about something gentle with him, like caring for this cutie after a hard day when he just wants to be in the arms of his beloved?

if the order is bad or not interesting, just ignore

and sorry for my english, it's not my native language, heh

hi!! your english is just fine bae, let's see what's brewin' in the pot for you!

【 summary!! luis comes home not his usual self, his sweet spouse cheers him up. 】

【 content warning!! gn!agent!reader, mentions of workplace bullying/discrimination, mentions of death, slight angst, post-canon RE4 + possible spoilers, canon divergence, kissing, cuddling. a very sad luis :( 】

He didn't know how much more of it he could take.

The staring, the whispers, the dirty looks. .

What else was he supposed to do?

After Ashley's rescue, things seemed to take a turn for the better. He was granted immunity, along with a job as a researcher for the government. He was a proper researcher now, he was going to help save lives instead of standing aside as they were being destroyed.

He wanted to change, he wanted to be a better person. He wanted to try everything to atone for the past, the pain and chaos he's helped cause.

People can change, can't they?

Everyday, he'd walk into the office to make his way down to the lab. He'd catch the stares, hearing the whispers about him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and those looks. . those fucking looks.

"Wait- isn't that the guy who was apart of that cult?"

"What if he took out that Saddler creep so he could be boss. .?"

"What's he doin' in that lab? Bet he's making more of those sick parasites. ."

"He's probably the reason the president's daughter almost died."

He thought they'd eventually pass, that it wouldn't matter anymore. He tried his best, he really did. He just wanted to prove them wrong, that he wasn't the cultist monster they thought he was. But, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

He helped create Las Plagas, and by the time he realized his mistake it was too late. He just hoped- no, prayed that it wasn't too late for forgiveness, to pay his retribution.

He sighed, fiddling with his house key. He never talked to you about what was going on, he never wanted you to worry about him, especially about something so trivial. So, he shook it off, took a deep breath, and put on his poker face.

"I'm home, mi corazón!"

A smile on his face, he chuckles as you leap into his arms. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tight, like you were afraid to let him go.

"Ay! Where's all this coming from, eh? I'm sure I wasn't gone that long, cariño." He smirked, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips as he gently sets you on the floor, but his arms never leaving you.

God, he missed you. After another long day, he just wanted to be in your arms, just wanted to be near you. You were his home, his sweet paradise.

"I made your favorite for dinner. Go ahead and get comfortable, I'll make you a plate, babe." You say, pressing a kiss against his cheek before making your way back to the kitchen, so excited to spend the rest of the evening with your boyfriend.

He smiles as he watches you return to the kitchen before sighing as he crashed onto the couch, his hand combing through his dark locks as he finally got a moment to just be. . in peace. He was safe within the walls of your shared apartment, with such a sweet and loving partner like you here waiting for him.

He didn't deserve you. Of all people, why him?

"Luis. . you okay, baby?"

He quickly lifts his head to face you, you looked so worried. Fuck, he didn't want that to happen. How was he supposed to play this off?

He chuckled nervously, nodding, "Yes, yes, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I'm here, in this wonderful city with a wonderful partner and using this brain of mine to help people. I'm doing just fine, mi vida." He said, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles after you set your plates down on the coffee table.

"Lu, honey. . I know something's wrong. You look so tired and. . over it, honestly. Are you sure that you're okay? You know that you can tell me anything, sweet baby." You assure him, caressing his cheek.

He couldn't contain it anymore. He just couldn't.

He sighed, resting his back against the couch. He finally shook his head, "It's. . been a rough few weeks, cariño. I feel like I'm barely keeping it together, if I'm being honest." He said, beginning to fiddle with his trusted lighter.

"Ever since. . you know, my co-workers look at me strange. While I'm on the way to the lab, I hear whispers and rumors, seeing those dirty looks they shoot at me. At first, I understood why. I mean, how would you react if your new co-worker used to work under a cult leader? That I stood by and let it all happen? I don't blame them. ." He sighed, flicking the lighter closed.

"I've been trying to atone for my sins, amor, I really have been. I feel. . horrible for what happened. All I wanted was to get out of that village, somehow, and I thought maybe that would be my chance. . obviously, I was wrong. I want to change, to be a better person. Ever since I was granted immunity, I've made that my mission. So far? It's going pretty damn poorly."

You could feel your heart break as you listened to him, you felt so bad. How could they? How could they just. . make those assumptions and accusations about him without actually asking for his side of events?

Luis was a brilliant man, an amazing boyfriend to you. Sure, he's done some major fuck-ups in the past, but he regrets every last thing. He just wanted to make-up for it all. He looked so sad, he never meant any harm, especially to the president and his daughter. That's why he helped when he did.

"I just. . I just want to help. I've lived a shitty life, and the moment I get a do-over. . more shit comes my way." He sighed, trying to keep his tears. They didn't deserve them, he had to be strong. But, he felt like he was reaching a breaking point.

"Lu. . whatever they say, it's not true. You and I both know that. Yes, you fucked up then, but you're making up for it now, and if they can't see that then they better not ask for your help when shit hits the fan." You said, getting a little pissed about it now. If you could, you'd kick every one of their uppity, government asses.

"You're a wonderful man, you've showed me that during that mission and you continue to show me that. If you truly were the ruthless bastard that they say you are, then you would've let Ashley die, you would've let all of us die." You say, wiping his tear away with your thumb as he looked so lovingly at you.

"Luis, I love you. You're going to help make this sick world a better place, and I'm so fucking proud of you." You say with a smile.

"I-I. . I don't deserve you, amor. Mi vida, la luz de mis ojos. What has this bastard done to deserve such love?" He whispered, finally being able to let go of his tears as he holds you close. You wrap your arms around each other in a warm embrace. He was so happy that you chose him.

"You're you, and that's all that matters, Lu." You murmur, holding him so close to you, wanting to squeeze out all those doubts and thoughts from him.

You loved him for him, and that was never going to change.

"Now, how about we enjoy dinner and some mind-numbing television? Then a nice, warm bubble bath and a movie with yours truly?" You ask, booping his nose.

He chuckled, sighing as he shook his head.

"That would be wonderful, my darling. . how can I repay such kindness and love? Would a massage suffice?" He spoke, smirking as he bounces his eyebrows, possibly hinting to something more.

You giggle, "I'm sure that'll do just fine as payment for my services."

He didn't deserve you. But, he damned sure wasn't going to fuck this up. No. . this was his second chance, and he was going to cherish every minute of it.

【 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! 】

[novamariestark]

Slip of the Tongue - Alden Parker

Summary: You accidentally call Alden his pet name in front of the team

Warnings: None, except maybe, use of a pet name

Word count: 1681

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x reader

[A/N] I've been working on this for weeks and it didn't really end up as well as I pictured it in my head but I am happy that my lazyass brain let me write something.

You hadn’t meant to say it. It was an accident. Just a slip of the tongue. You knew for sure that Nick was never going to let you live this down.

You and Alden have been together for about six months and for the sake of your professional relationship, you kept it secret. At least you did. It didn’t take an investigator to figure it out.

You all hadn’t long come back from a crime scene and whilst you were there, you spotted someone suspicious. His body language set him apart from all the other onlookers. That’s when Gibbs’ voice popped into your mind.

Rule 35: Always watch the watchers.

You were the team’s profiler and one of the best. Many agents came by and asked for your thoughts on possible motives or to observe an interrogation. Your journey into psychology and profiling began when you were just 15 years old. When you met Ducky. At that time, he was in the middle of his pursuit of his master’s degree in psychology. The world of the human mind had held a certain mystique that had captivated you from the start, just as much as Ducky's stories did.

When Ducky decided to retire as ME, he personally chose you and Jimmy as his successors. You initially apprehensive about taking that role given the size of the shoes you had to fill but Ducky believed that you were both more than capable to do the job. As it turned out, he was right. As usual.

When you got back to your desk, you immediately started to investigate the onlooker you had seen. You started to run him through facial recognition hoping to find something. Whilst you were waiting for a hit, you looked through the crime scene photos, looking for something you may have missed when you took the photo.

A little over an hour later, your computer beeped, and like meerkats, the team all looked up from their tasks.

“Ooh, sounds like [Y/N] has something,”

You shook your head, you hadn’t found anything, just the name of the onlooker, “No, it’s just an e-mail, ignore it,”

The team exchanged glances but didn’t push any further. You turned your attention to your “e-mail” and began scouring databases, cross-referencing information, and followed his digital trails, determined to find out if he had anything to do with it.

Soon you find out that he’s got a lengthy list of offences, violent ones, “McGee?” you spoke up, shifting in your seat to look at him.

“Yeah?” he asked looking away from his screen giving you his full attention.

“Have you looked into the wife yet?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

McGee couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't tell me you're following Tony's logic," he teased, referring to their former colleague's penchant for the saying, "It's always the spouse."

You joined in the laughter, shaking your head. "No, just wondering. I mean, I could if you're busy,"

McGee scrunched his eyebrows at you, “Okay, what are you working on over there?” he asked getting increasingly curious.

You glanced around the room and noticed that the entire team had turned their attention to you. You sighed and then looked back at Tim. "Rule 35," you said simply.

“Really? Someone set off your spidey sense?” he asked, you nodded in response.

“Care to share?” Alden asked, “What’s rule 35?”

You chewed your lip, would he be annoyed you kept this to yourself? You opened your mouth to answer but McGee beat you to it.

“Uh, Gibbs’ rule 35. Always watch the watchers,” he explained.

“I uh, saw a man in the crowd of onlookers. His body language was different than everyone else,” you explained further, “It was just a hunch, if it led anywhere, I would tell you guys,”

“And did it?” Alden asked, standing up from his desk and walking over to yours. You looked up at him. Sometimes you wondered how you managed to concentrate at all with how damn sexy he was. All. The. Time. But you did.

“Um, the guy I saw has a restraining order against him by a Naomi Fisher,” you shrugged, “I know that’s the first name of the victim’s wife and…” you stopped when you saw a look on his face, one you couldn’t decipher. Not that you’d tell Nick that, “I’m sorry, I just thought that it was suspicious, I should have told you,” you looked down at your hands on the desk, at the keyboard, anywhere away from his eyes. Beside you, you could hear the clacking of McGee’s keyboard.

“Naomi Wilkes’ maiden name is Fisher,” he spoke up with a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” Torres groaned playfully from the other side of you, “How am I supposed to kiss ass if you’re always using your superpowers?”

Alden smiled at you, “Good job,” he said before turning to walk away.

“Thanks, daddy,” you said, immediately clasping your hands over your mouth. Alden stops dead in his tracks.

The office fell into a stunned silence, and the team's jaws dropped making it clear that they had caught your slip up. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you had just said. Oh shit. Why did you say that? Because he praised you? Was that your weakness?

What the hell, of course it is. You were surprised you lasted this long.

You quickly looked at Alden, "I'm sorry, Alden,"

He gave you a subtle, reassuring smile, “It’s alright, [Y/N]”

Jess exchanged a knowing glance with Tim, who wore a subtle grin and Nick was trying and failing to suppress his laugh.

“Okay, stay focused still got a case to solve. Everyone back to what they were doing,” Alden said returning to his desk, “[Y/N], create a profile on your onlooker,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back, “Sure,”

***

You delved into both his and Naomi’s background, their relationship going as far back as pre teen years. They dated, he got multiple arrests and she filed a restraining order against him 5 years ago after he almost killed her little brother. He is currently out on parole. You found the number of his officer and rang them up. After the call you find that he’s missed his appointment with his parole officer and can’t be found. You decided to call metro and ask if they could place some officers outside Naomi Wilkes house just in case he returned.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said standing up, you faintly hear Nick mumble ‘this’ll be good,’ he enjoyed watching you analyse things, as did everyone else. Especially Alden, he found it completely sexy.

“His name is Jon Milton. He was recently released from prison on parole however his parole officer doesn’t know where he is. Anyway, he has an obsessive fixation on Naomi. He is unable to accept the end of their relationship. This is a possible motive for the murder of Craig Wilkes, likely an attempt to regain control over her and may even be punishment for her moving on. He’s narcissistic, he believes he is entitled to her affection, her love, her loyalty. He sees her choices as a direct threat to his self-esteem and he reacts with anger and violence to reassert his dominance. He has a violent history which indicates that he has often resorted to aggression as a means of gaining control. He’s delusional. He’s convinced himself that killing Naomi’s husband was the only way to regain her affections. He also exhibits psychopathic traits. He’s lacking empathy or remorse for his actions. His return to the crime scene to watch Naomi grieve her husband's death demonstrates sadistic tendencies. He derives pleasure from her pain and relishes in his own cruel actions,” you finished your presentation of your findings and looked to everyone.

“I believe he did it,” you added, nodding your head to his picture on the screen, “I also believe he will continue to harm those near her. I called Metro and asked them to have officers posted outside her house,”

As the team mobilized to verify your hunch about the onlooker being the murderer, your investigation took a turn. McGee began combing through stolen car reports, cross-referencing them with camera footage from the victim's neighborhood. Soon, on one of the cameras, he spotted the stolen car, parked on the same street as the victim's residence.

Meanwhile, Kasie, the team's forensic expert, was hard at work analyzing evidence from the crime scene. She finally came across all the prints you pulled from the porch banister. Kasie ran it through the database. It matched the onlooker's known prints. This was another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

As you all pieced together these findings, your phone rang. Your BOLO alert had come back. The onlooker had just been spotted a few streets away from his ex's house. You thanked the man and immediately called the officers that were sat outside her house to warn them and let them know they were on their way.

“He’s just been spotted a few streets away from the Wilkes’ house,”

“Alright let’s move,” Alden said as he started gearing up.

***

Later that night, after you all got back after arresting Milton, you were all back in the bullpen. McGee was getting ready to leave. So were Jess and Nick, but they all noticed that you and Alden weren’t moving.

“So, uh,” Torres spoke up, “Was he playing with his plants or…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you laughed at him.

“Yeah, please don’t,” McGee begged.

“Okay, okay,” he said walking away, towards the elevator, “Don’t stay up too late!” he called over before the doors shut.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, you knew he wanted to keep it a secret. Well not so much a secret, just he preferred to keep your professional relationship and your personal relationship separate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alden reassured you again, “At least you don’t have to come up with all these different lies anymore. When Torres asks you to hang out you can just say you’d rather hang out with me,”

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

ask #2 what head canons do you have about Tom and Mary's relationship

OHHHH A DOWNTON ABBEY QUESTION

Okay okay so i need to acknowledge how feral I am about these two. Also i sorta checked out after the show shoved Mary and skinny chad number 7ish down the aisle (Is his name Henry or something??? the race car driver whatever, fuck him 😆)

(I still dont understand how they expect me to believe that the love of her life dies in a devastating car accident but she would willingly re-marry a race car driver. brain does not compute)

I digress. I think Tom and she develope this insanely deep emotional bond in that first year without their spouses as a result of their shared grief. They each married for love at a time when few others of their social group would have had the chance to do so (Tom is extra isolated on account of he isnt yet accepted into that social group). I think they really heavily depend on eachother in the beginning. someone else who just gets that grief. and also was close to the spouse who died so it's two sides of a coin. they gravitate towards the one other person they feel fully understands them and they help the other A. remember the love who died and B (more in Mary's case) remember what kind of person that love inspired them to be.

And i headcanon that by the time they might be ready for romance again theyve fallen into this inexplicable deep emotional entanglement with the other. it would be incredibly hard to find something more fulfilling. at the same time, transforming that connection into romance would probably be terrifying (would the other want that? would it be a betrayal of Matthew and Sybil to move on together) oodles of grief there.

I think Tom actually goes to Boston at all because he realizes whats happening and it scares him. on the one hand he thinks it isnt fair to mary to hold her back from a romance. on the other hes not quite sure if he could ever move on from Sybil. (And of course be comes back because he cant bear to be away from Mary and figures he can find a way to control the attraction. maybe by committing himself to helping her find new love.)

Which is about where what I headcanon and what the show does diverge. I cant wrap by head around her marrying skinny man number 7. i just cant. Husband material is right there at the breakfast table with her. Why would she go for Henry when she already has Tom?

I also think theyre good for eachother okay! they encourage and empower eachother. She helps him navigate the code switching he needs to do to be a part of the peerage. he helps her find her way out of the constricting box the peerage has always pressured her to conform to. Him being estate agent opens the door for her to take control over it. theirs is a partnership. running the whole thing together. beause he respects her opinion and welcomes her to the table as an equal, it effectively gives her the control over her home shes always felt like she cant have due to her sex.

So in my headcanon she either dumps skinny man or has an unhappy marriage to skinny man that prompts Tom and she to have a conversation about what they really want. And then they would get together And i could frankly read stories about them getting together foreverrr.

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O' Hara (Across the Spider-Verse)- AU Crossover - Extra

Cases sometimes took a turn for the worse. In this instance you’d narrowly missed a blast. After they apprehended the unsub, the team had all driven to the hospital to check in on you. 

The doctors had yet to address them and they were becoming a bit anxious. When you boarded the ambulance you looked disoriented. There were clear signs of a concussion, so of course Hotch basically demanded that you get checked out. He knew how easily such an injury could become detrimental.

When the doctor finally came out, she offered them a smile.

“It was just a mild concussion. We’re doing extra tests, but she should be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”

They all released a sigh of relief. It was great news, however the look the woman wore proved that there was something else that needed to be addressed.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch questioned.

She nodded hesitantly.

“Usually we regard the information to a next of kin, or a spouse, but her records show that she has no family living in the area. Her parents are also deceased. Given your job description I feel as though it’s wise that I speak with you privately Agent Hotcher.”

JJ and Reid exchanged a look. Morgan is weary. Hotch nodded, turning to Rossi.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to have a witness with me.”

She nodded.

“Of course, please, follow me.”

Morgan knew for a fact that whatever it was, Hotch would fill them in. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too horrible. He sent a reassuring gaze to Reid and JJ as Hotch disappeared around the corner.

The doctor pulled them into a separate room.

“I’m sure I don’t have to stress how delicate this matter is. Since I am speaking with both of you, we will have to confront my patient together after I’ve explained.”

“Understood.” Rossi agreed.

She nodded.

“During our overall check there appeared to be no issues. Your agent is as healthy as an ox. Her stamina and pressure is next to perfect. Her external injuries however were a lot more severe.” She opened the folder and they were surprised to see images of marks around her body.

“She has two bruises from what appear to be bite marks on her shoulder. They were superficial which is a huge relief. But there were similar marks on her inner thighs and faded marks on her hip as well as near her pelvic area. From what I can see, these were all done to her by another person.”

The severity of the situation hit them like a brick.

“She’s being abused..” Rossi muttered. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Hotch’s jaw was clenched hard.

“Given that she is a federal agent, I implore that you take the necessary steps to get her professional help. If she hasn’t reached out, it must mean that her abuser is of higher status and she’s afraid to apprehend him. I’ve seen too many cases where these monsters get away.”

Hotch had every intention to grill you on this situation. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen any signs. He didn’t spot any significant changes in your behavior. If anything you were much happier. Which he took as a sign that you had recently entered a relationship.

“I’m looking for (Y/N), por favor, ayúdame!”

The voice on the other side caught all their attention. When they walked out, it all seemed to click. Hotch’s steely gaze fixed on Miguel. He gestured to the doctor, and she seemed to understand.

“She’s right this way sir.”

They all walked in silence. The second they made it to your room and the door slid open, Miguel breathed a sigh of relief. Your eyes lit up and he was at your side immediately.

“You’re always so careless.” He lectured. You pout.

“Come on, did you drive all this way to scold me? I’m fine, it was just a concussion.” He stood at your bedside, still frowning, but overall relieved.

The tense energy from the rest of the people present pulled your attention.

“Why all the long faces, I’m not terminally ill.” You joked. You hoped it would gain a reaction, but Rossi and Hotch were still glaring in Miguel’s direction. If you had to guess, they looked ready to shoot him and you didn’t understand why.

“What’s with the death glares?”

Your doctor shifted.

“I apologize, but under certain circumstances we are authorized to notify the police in the event of abuse cases.”

“Abuse? What are you talking about?”

“She’s talking about the multiple bruises all over your body.”

Hotch sounds pissed, and for a moment you’re completely confused. Miguel is too. At least for a while. When recognition finally hits, you both flush. Your cheeks are the very depiction of a cherry. Miguel doesn’t look much better.

Hotch as well as Rossi are confused by the reaction. Usually victims took a defensive stance, but the both of you look more embarrassed than anything else.

“I-It’s really not what you think.”

The doctor looks between you and Miguel, then back at Hotch and Rossi.

“Am I missing something?”

You fidget, and Miguel refuses to make eye contact.

You finally sigh in defeat, reaching for his collar as you pull him down to your height. He stumbles.

“W-What are you-”

Your fingers part his lips and they all stare at his pointed canines.

“Miguel has a condition. I’m sure you’ve noticed that he’s built a bit bigger than the average man.” You pull your fingers back, still mortified that you’ve been caught in this discussion with your superiors of all people. Miguel slowly raises to his full height.

“H-He’s not doing what you think he is. W-We just get a little carried away sometimes when we’re..being intimate..” You almost whisper the last part.

This is beyond humiliating.

Now that it’s all out in the open, the doctor bows her head.

“I’m so sorry for assuming the worst.”

You shake your head, still unable to look your superiors in their eyes. Hotch is relieved to say the least. Rossi laughs.

“You really had us going there kid.”

“I’m sorry sir.”

You’re still blushing.

“You might want to take it easy in the future, big guy.” Rossi jabs playfully.

“S-SHE’S THE ONE THAT KEPT ASKING ME FOR MORE!”

“D-DON’T TELL HIM THAT!!”

You are mortified. Miguel huffs.

“I’ll be outside.” He grumbles.

“Good riddance!” You shout. 

The door closes behind him and you run a hand over your face.

“I wish I could evaporate right about now."

Rossi holds back another laugh.

~

The ordeal was one you hoped to never have again.

The night that follows you’re slipping into Miguel’s bed. You leave a kiss on his cheek, and he acknowledges it. It’s when you begin to trail them lower that he gets where this is going.

“No, we’re not doing anything until your bruises heal.”

He turns, laying on the bed.

“W-What! That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s more than fair since your boss immediately assumed I was a controlling monster."

“I mean those marks were pretty visible. Still hot though.”

You smirk, but he still has his back to you.

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Nooo! You can’t just go to sleep, I’m horny!” You see the inkling of red on his cheeks at your statement.

“T-That’s not my problem.”

“LET ME HAVE SEX WITH YOU MIGUEL!!

“G-GO TO SLEEP!!”

Yes, your love was indeed one for the books. 

[nyrarachelle-plays]

Going through your game screenshots/edit: the most recent Sim is your spouse, the Sim in the picture from a day ago is your boss, and the oldest Sim picture in your gallery is your partner in crime. Share who they are and pass it on.

Teeeeeheee, okay!

The most recent Sim as my spouse is:

A "Bella's Secret" model I randomly made (I never go in CAS for fun, but I was just feeling it this day; I don't remember her name, as usual lol)!

The Sim in the picture from a day ago as my boss is:

Miss Gloria Bradley (pictured on the right: technically two days ago bc I haven't played since the weekend, but I finally figured out her name; she's my off camera, actual casual gameplay sim and a lawyer at Landgraab & Co). Coincidental, but I'll take it! LOL

And the oldest Sim picture in my gallery as my partner in crime is....

Latisha ?? (can't remember her last name lmbo! She's one of the Dyson Sister's friends from waaay back and the first screenshot in my folder from 09/14/20 at 2:27 pm. I remember thinking uhn uhn this vacation is too beautiful not to take pics). I AM PLEASANTLY surprised at this one! She's an interesting character and also coincidentally in the Secret Agent career (LOLLLLL I just remembered)!

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of a baby who died in his mother's womb around 37 weeks into the pregnancy, his mom going through the whole pregnancy without a partner or spouse by her side (by choice), her having to give birth to her son after having found out he had passed away, her having to leave him at the hospital and go back home, mentions of a baby's funeral, her feelings after the loss of her baby (grief, wanting to isolate from her friends and many others), her accepting to meet her friend's newborn baby, but entering into a delusion in which that child is her son, her baby watching over her from Heaven and praying she'll be okay one day and her finally letting out all her feelings with one of her two closest friends helping her.

•This One Shot is an AU in which JJ and Will's second baby didn't die and was born alive in mid 2011. I named her Margaret because Maggie, the name JJ said she would have given her in the show, is not a full name, it's more of a nickname and it is her nickname here too. Emily also didn't go through the "thing" with Ian Doyle and JJ didn't have to leave her team in this story.

•I know JJ and Will weren't married yet in 2011, but to make things easier for myself, I chose to refer to him as her husband, since that's what many people do in my country with live-in partners, mostly if they have kids together. I hope this doesn't bother you.

•I don't fully know how maternity leave works in the USA, especially for an FBI agent, so I made those details up. If you know more about this, feel free to correct me, though.

•I don't know if Emily was religious in "Criminal minds", but even not religious people say that their dead loved ones are in Heaven, so I used that word around the end of the story.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @arabellavernierwrites (who helped me write this a pretty long time ago), @asolitaryrose3, @oneshotnewbie, @whotfskai, @marril96, @babiebom.

Until they'd meet again

On July 5, 2011, her first day back at work after her five-weeks-long leave, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bullpen, the first thing she would have liked to do was scream as loud as she could.

Why?

Well, because not really knowing what to say to her, all her co-workers and friends just asked "Are you alright?".

What Emily would have wanted to say was "No, I'm not! Who the hell would be alright just one month after their baby's death?!?", but to avoid worrying her friends and most of all, knowing they wouldn't have been able to understand what she was going through, what she ended up telling them was just "Yes, I'm okay".

She knew they didn't believe her, also because she wasn't able to look them in the eye while saying that.

Most of them were FBI profilers, after all.

Analyzing human behavior was their job.

None of them pressured her to open up, though, and Emily was partly happy, partly annoyed by that.

Less than half an hour after she had arrived at the office, she was already convinced that the worst part of her day was going to be having to stay at work, around people who didn't know how to talk to her, but shot pity-filled looks at her every few minutes, while all she actually wanted to do was go back home, the only place were she would have been alone, lay in bed and just miss her baby boy.

Her beloved Isaac, whom she had gotten pregnant with thanks to a sperm donor, had died in her womb in late May of that year.

His mother had found out about that on May 28, exactly thirty-eight weeks into her -at least until then- healthy pregnancy.

Hearing her doctor say "I'm so sorry. There is no heartbeat" had been more devastating than anything she had ever been through to Emily, and finding out she still had to deliver her son was even harder.

After two days spent locked up in her apartment, mostly crying and staring mindlessly at the TV, in the late afternoon of May 30, Emily had gone to the hospital to give birth to her much loved and wanted little boy.

The next morning, at 10:40 am, Isaac William Prentiss had come into the world, lifeless, but still perfect in his mother's eyes.

For the next two days, Emily held him every second she could, trying to memorize every single one of his features, talking and singing to him and taking more pictures than she could have counted.

Then, the time had come to say goodbye, and leaving Isaac to the nurses while she went back home was one more heartbreak for her to deal with.

For almost five whole weeks, she stayed cooped up in her house, only going out on the day of Isaac's funeral and one evening because her friend Penelope had basically forced her to go out with her.

That night, Emily had just wanted to go home as soon as possible, but on her first day back at work, in spite of her still very present heartbreak, she craved nothing more than to have normalcy and a healthy routine again.

That was why, although it had only been a little over a month since her son had passed and she would have had the right to three more weeks of paid leave, she had insisted on returning to the bureau.

There, however, everyone was tip-toeing around her, going the extra mile to make sure everything within their job maintained some sense of balance.

The team was trying their hardest to provide stability to the grieving mother Emily now was.

The next day, however, their friend and co-worker JJ, who had given birth to her daughter Margaret just three weeks prior, had decided to come see them.

She hadn't brought the baby with her, but she knew she was going to have to bring her up at some point.

Everyone else on the team had already been to her house to meet little Margaret for the first time, and JJ was now nauseous at the idea of having to find a way to invite Emily's freshly broken heart.

"Emily" she said, tapping softly on the door to her friend's office "Can I talk to you real quick before I go back home?".

Hardly looking up from her papers, Emily nodded and just responded with "Of course".

JJ timidly entered the room, still unsure of how to say what she wanted to tell the older woman.

"I thought now would be a good time to talk to you about this. As you know, I just had a baby. If you refuse, I understand. I want you to do what's best for you now. Don’t feel pressured or think that you somehow have to spare my feelings in any way-" she started to explain, but Emily soon interrupted her.

"JJ" she told her "You can ask the question".

JJ swallowed intensely.

"Would you like to meet my daughter?" she then asked.

Even though she had given her friend permission to ask her that, when she heard those words, Emily felt like she had just been punched in the stomach.

She tried to hide the fact that that question had knocked the wind out of her, but even a brief mention of a baby was enough to send her back into the pit of despair she was actively trying to claw her way out of.

"I can’t wait" she still forced herself to say, giving JJ a half-fake smile.

She was genuinely happy for her, but also fighting a losing battle inside.

The idea of her friend's new baby stormed up inside Emily.

She remembered what it felt like to hold her little one for the first time, his soft skin, his tiny fingers and toes and his impossibly long eyelashes.

He was perfect, but no screams had come from him.

Unlike all the other babies there that day, he hadn't been born alive.

So much of Emily was happy that JJ was getting to experience becoming the mother of an alive baby for the second time.

One of the most precious things life could offer was in the palms of her friend's hands.

But still, heartache consumed her.

She was devastated that there was still so much life and beauty in the world, when she had just had to experience a death so earth-shattering.

The idea of meeting JJ's baby made Emily's heart race, but still, she agreed to do it, and a few hours later, there she was, sitting on JJ's couch, an evening full of homecooked meals and genuine conversation leading her up to that point.

"Here she is, Auntie Emily" JJ told her with a smile on her face, placing her baby girl into Emily's protective arms.

The older woman's first reaction to that was a chuckle of disbelief she just couldn't hold in.

Her mind twisted at the memory of her own sweet baby, the one that she had been grieving so violently over.

She wasn’t sure what it was, motherly hormones or just pure reality-distorting heartbreak, but she felt like she was holding her late son.

That thought poisoned her mind, the maternal instinct pumping through her veins, her heart intertwining with the one of the baby in her arms.

"She’s perfect" Emily whispered, overcome with emotion.

"She is, isn’t she?" JJ replied with a smile on her face, taking a seat in a chair across the room, keeping an affectionate eye on the two of them.

"You're just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?" Emily then cooed, completely enamored with the infant in her arms.

She felt like she was getting sucked deeper into the sickening hole of motherly grief.

She didn’t feel real anymore and to her, the baby she was holding wasn't JJ's daughter.

It was her son.

Her innocent child she should have protected from all things evil in the world.

Now she had a second chance, and anyone and anything that would have even tried to harm that baby would have died at her hands before being able to come near the child.

"You just need someone to keep your little heart safe, sweet boy" she cooed as she stroked the baby's big, round cheeks with love "You need your mommy to keep you safe".

By that point, JJ had become weary of her friend's behavior, since she had witnessed a shift behind her grieving eyes.

"Will, how about you go upstairs to see if Henry is sleeping?" she decided to tell her husband, mostly wishing to salvage the image of her co-worker, not wanting anyone else to have to witness what she pretty much knew was coming.

"I can protect you, my son" Emily then promised, still looking at the baby with so much love in her eyes "As your mommy, I swear I won’t let anything ever hurt you".

"I think it’s time she goes back to bed, Honey" JJ tried to tell her, wanting to get her baby back into the hands of someone with a more present mind.

"I can’t" Emily replied, her eyes filling up with tears "I can’t have my baby taken from me again".

"Don’t you want us to have our baby back?" Will, who had come back downstairs by that time attempted to ask her.

As a response, however, Emily shook her head.

"No, he is mine!" she then exclaimed "I have to protect my baby!".

"Come on, she needs some rest" JJ told her, gently rubbing her back.

Suddenly, Emily’s brain felt like it could have exploded.

It was so full of heartbreak, confusion and despair.

The thoughts that had been racing through her mind for weeks pounded on the walls of her skull, desperate for an escape from the pain that brewed in her mind.

She just wanted something she could hold on to, something that she could have a second chance at, something that would stay alive.

"No, I can’t" Emily told her, tears streaming down her face by that time.

All the sternness in her voice had disappeared and there was nothing in her tone except pure defeat.

That was when JJ knew she wasn’t just talking about the baby.

She was talking about everything she had experienced since the day she had found out Isaac had passed away.

Everything that had swept her off her feet in the tornado of losing a child.

She couldn’t do it any more.

She couldn’t live with that missing piece in her life.

She couldn’t plaster on a smile and show up to work like she hadn't just lost the person she loved the most.

JJ was careful, removing her baby from Emily’s arms and quickly giving her to her husband, who took her upstairs to give the two women a moment alone.

"I can't do this" Emily sobbed, her figure collapsing entirely against her friend.

Her body heaved violently as everything that had been building up was let go.

The excruciating experience of losing her baby boy had broken her.

Maybe one day there would have been a way out of all the pain she was experiencing, but at that moment, everything around her seemed dark and the only good things were JJ's arms around her and the fact that in a way, she still had her baby boy in her life.

He was watching her from Heaven, loving on his mommy and praying for her to be able to find peace and the strenght to wait until they were meant to meet again.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Yeeting this into the void...

Half vent, half self-expression and the third half is so my few readers followers know what's up with me. But my brain is not a nice place. Tread carefully.

My brain is low-key trying to kill my lately. I don't know how much of this is meds/health issues and how much just stress. My thyroid and estrogen are fighting and that really hurts. I'm doing what I can to mitigate it, but the bottom line is, I don't have anything that works AND is tolerable at an effective dose.

Wednesday, I'm going to the endocrinologist. I have never been to one, despite having hormonal issues my whole life. The only reason I got this referral is my spouse came with me and demanded it on my behalf, and I think my family doctor is borderline senile. I have no idea what that man has told this new doctor who is holding my life in their hands. I've been waiting for this appointment for months. This was the earliest I could get in.

I have issues with at least two hormones and I would hope that the hormone specialist can deal with both, but estrogen - ha ha, that little scamp! - is gendered. I'm so scared that (after I get told to lose weight) I'm gonna hear, "Sorry! We'll have to let the lady doctor who specializes in lady parts deal with your lady hormone, you lady, you."

These two things interact, you see, and I've had trouble absorbing both. I need someone who can deal with that, otherwise I'm going to be playing a three physician game of telephone, where instead of talking to each other, they make ME explain everything - even though they're supposed to have all they need on the computer. It's... I don't have the energy to keep doing that and it's super ineffective.

I don't have anything sexy or cool or simple wrong with me. I didn't even get Agent Orange dumped on me, that happened to my dad and I can't prove it's affecting me. Even though I have never been okay. Ever.

I can't hug people or lean over a table without cringing, 'cos my breast pain goes off at random depending how you hit 'em. Nobody cares. I mean, the love of my life cares, but nobody who is gatekeeping my healthcare cares. It's been this way for years. The gynecologists want me to express my pain in a way that makes sense to them, "hot flashes and night sweats." If it's not that, why would estrogen help? But it does. I've been on more and different versions of it and that helped, and even what I have now is helping. The trouble is, I can't stay on it because of the side effects. The goddamn thyroid hormones help it too! But so far nobody is equipped to do anything with this information. I have to craft a lie like a crow bending a wire into the perfect shape to get a cheeto out of a tube.

I'm in a new place with all new people and I don't know how to operate them. I really don't know how to operate that family doctor, he forgets everything about me as soon as I leave the room. I'm gonna lead with the truth again - unless something goes south real fast - but I don't know what I'll get.

I'm haunted by the suspicion that I'm unfixable. Not just that I need something I'm not getting, but there is no thing. There is no cheeto in the tube. This'll just be my life. Not only will I be sick, but I'll have people treating me like I'm fine, and I'll be expected to act fine. Ha-ha, that's the trouble when you don't look disabled, everyone expects you to act that way too!

Even if I do get better, finally... I'm going to be mad. I am going to be really mad. I rested my shoulder for a week out of desperation - it's been a mess for over a year - and it feels better. It still locks up and hurts if I push it, but I am learning to rest it when it needs a rest. NOBODY told me to rest it, it was always various permutations of working it harder. I am so fucking ANGRY that "a rest" was never on the table for some reason. I had to be in constant pain for going on two years and then come up with a way to help myself. This small level of relief I'm feeling was KEPT from me.

I don't know if even this will last. I don't know if I'm gonna find out typing and drawing is bad for me and I need to limit one of the only things that makes my life worth living.

I've fallen into some very dark holes this last week, and there will be more. Self-harm is always gonna be something that occurs to me, whether to end the pain or just to make my outsides look as screwed up as my insides so I'll be left alone. It is ground into my bones that nobody is going to help me, so that's really all I want when it's very bad, to be left alone. (I've mentioned sometimes I sound like an unholy union of Milo and Mordecai, that's because I am!)

I'm hanging on and trying to be okay. It's just fragile. I keep crashing. It's not that I'm faking being happy, it's that I'm apt to very suddenly not feel that way anymore. Happy is like paint with too much thinner in it. I can layer on a little more, but the base coat keeps leaking through. I'm scared. And I feel so small and dumb and petty to be scared and not wanting to go on when I've been so lucky and have so much. I always find a reason to keep going. I just worry (and I know my spouse does too) that one time I won't.

I need that support system, so I'm going to keep trying to be social too, but it's hard. Web 1.0 is dead and you can't just talk to people on the internet anymore. Best I can do is talk to the internet in general and worry the few people close enough to actually care.

I'm sorry. I'm tryin' to stay safe. It's just precarious right now. This is gonna be a rough week, no matter how it shakes out. I'll end up with new meds, and no idea what they'll do to me.

Respect to Our Emily, but my hope isn't light enough for feathers. It's heavy like lead, that's why I can't always hold on to it.

Nevertheless, I've nothing to do but keep tryin' to get that cheeto out of the tube. Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice, but to soldier on...

(Well, as long as the shoulder holds up, I can write and art to distract myself. I'm sure I'll get Erik out of that hotel room soon.)

[earlronove]

I did this over at the ol’ twitter (template here) because it seemed like a neat idea to reflect what I’ve done. I actually did a LOT of writing this year! If you’d like to read some writing rambles and my overview of my 2022 writing adventure, you can click the keep reading! I’m very wordy!

Overall, my gut reaction is to say I didn’t do well this year because my sole focus was to get The Divine an agent. Though I did not do that (and am incredibly fed up with the entire system and how much of a dumpster fire trade publishing actually is), I do feel more emboldened to try self-publishing even though my personality may not be quite suited for it. Even self-publishing tires me out because a lot of advice I get needs you to spend money--lots of it--but it’s like, writing is already gatekept enough. I’m fucking poor! I don’t have 1000 dollars for a good editor. I barely have money for bills at this point.

At the very least, ignoring advice that expects you only to self-publish when you either have a lot of cash just hanging out, a spouse you can depend on, or just make it work I guess, self-publishing is still a very viable avenue I’m a little excited to learn a little more of.

So, that’s something! Maybe nothing will come of it, but I do feel excited to try it. I can format the inside of a book pretty well and I think I’m comfortable enough with my art to make a cover (and the cover I’m making for The Divine is amazing if I do say so myself).

Otherwise, what other writing have I done?

The biggest project was Wherever the Stars Call--my Vampires in SPACE. I had unused ideas from Vagabonds (I still need to figure out what I want to do with that since it’s basically 3 books worth of material), so I was like okay I can use those up but with what? And then it became a thread of “but what if vampires in space?!” and while largely, the focus shifted to the queer runaway leads, vampires still play an important part of the story. I adore these characters to bits and I think the story is a fun space adventure. Leaves itself open too if I ever get enough ideas for a sequel (there is some in the works but nothing that pieces together well). I’m pretty confident in this project’s commercial viability, but given my opinion on agents and the publishing world, I don’t quite know if I want to go through the crushing rejections The Divine had to go through right this second. Or even deal with the inevitable “well, one of the leads should get together with the vampire since that’s what young adult books do” or “if the leads aren’t a couple by the end, we can’t sell it” and have to change my ideas to fit whatever mold the market wants. Not that I would change either of those above, market be damned. Regardless, my big goal is to at least try which is why editing it is my #1 goal for next year to get it polished and ready.

Alongside that chonker of a project, I managed to squeeze out three short stories (I meant to do more but then two novellas turned novels happened and then so did the novella that stayed a novella). all my ghosts is my favorite only because I tried something new (way more contemporary than I usually do without anything hugely fantastical (beyond the ghosts) while also vaguely exploring queer identity and the meaninglessness of doing what you think you ought to) and I think I did a good job.

I also began the year posting The Devil in the Woods. 12 part supernatural novella dealing with disaster teens making disaster decisions concerning a demon inside the woods. Overall, I still think I failed the project because it just wasn’t perceived. I’m still not quite sure what I did wrong except maybe my audience really isn’t into that kind of story (contemporary leaning with vague horror vibes). I like the story a lot and I’m learning more trying to get an e-book version of it (images do not play nice). Hopefully next year, I’ll get an e-book version out and a physical copy for myself at the very least.

Then came the two novellas that turned into short novels in their own right. Angel Wings follows Asher as he gains angel wings and has to maneuver through what society expects of him with said wings and how much he wants to break the mold he’s being forced into. Angry gay breaking things, the novel. I liked writing it because it felt cathartic with Asher being frustrated and angry at his perceived place in the world and how much more he believes he is in spite of it. No one wanted to beta-read it, but that’s okay! It’s categorized under “Weird Novels Ronove Loves That No One Else Might” and I’m largely okay with that. Maybe one day it’ll have its day to shine! 

The second novella turned short novel was Star Scourge. Last year, I wrote Light of the World which was about Nayir and his quest with Ara, a little piece of a god that sought to end the world, to maybe finish ending the world. While the description is a downer, the novel ended up being hopeful as Nayir pieces himself back together and as Ara sees the world her god tried to drown and how wrong that might have been. It still needs its editing finished, but as a whole I loved it. Then, here comes Star Scourge which takes a similar premise, localizes it, and puts the one who can end the world at the center. Sol is a fallen star who is prophesied to save the world just like all the fallen stars before him. Except, he recognizes it’s a cycle and one that will not break if he follows the path all the other fallen stars have taken. So, like Ara, he plans to finish ending the world. Unlike Light of the World, this one is a somber downer where Sol is faced again and again with reasons why the world really doesn’t want saving or that it’s simply not worth it. It’s setting is a world literally steps away from being wiped out altogether and how Sol interacts with that and his own desires. It was incredibly interesting to write (I wanted to say fun, but that’s a weird word to use, haha) and I think a good exercise after writing Light of the World where literally, hope was still there. Star Scourge doesn’t have that. A sour band of heroes trying to do their best by the world alongside the star who is secretly planning to end it. Sometimes, we just write sadder things and it’s okay!

Then, finally, I began to write The Magician & the Bard because I’ve always wanted to write a sword & sorcery kind of romp where the fate of the world wasn’t the focus of the fantasy, rather what the characters did within this world I created. It has been a lot of fun to plan (I have so many hi-jinks they can get up to) and it’s been a blast writing and getting to know these characters further. I missed writing pure fantasy and I like that their adventure is a bit more upbeat in general. And though I feel it’s having the same problems as Devil in the Woods at being perceived when I post it, I think more people are keen on reading it! I definitely don’t feel as down after finishing posting the first arc as I did with Devil in the Woods. I just want to write more and throw Vahn and Hawke at any silly idea I can! I have one more arc fleshed out and another one with the broad strokes written down and a bunch of one line ideas to throw them at. One idea even has a dragon!

All in all though, 2022 I think really shows that at heart, I love writing. In the fact of total rejection for the Divine, I’m still writing. And I don’t think that’s going to change. I have so many half-baked ideas just waiting for their chance to shine that I hope I can really get going on in 2023.

Thank you for reading! I felt very pensive about my writing journey this year and I think it helped to write this all out.

[bardic-tales]

Okay, I am quite curious about something. Do you've some headcanons for any of your couples?

Hi, Leia. Thanks for the question, and I hope you are having a wonderful day. I do have headcanon for all of my couples. Creating their headcanons can become like some people experience earworms for songs.

Again, thanks so much for the ask. It helps me keep my mind off of Loki for a bit and sort of forces me to actually think about the work that I didn't have the heart to pick back up since his diagnosis.

I'm going to answer this by splitting it up between Original and Fandom work. The original work I'm focus on right now is Cold as Ice, so the couple in that are Cyras Giovanna Teresa Covelli da Lucci and Vaene Ectorius Arturis.

The fandom work is The Old Republic: Cynthia Prescost and Darth Noktis. For Uncharted, it's Niamh Donovan and Nathan Drake.

Cyras and Vaene share a few interests. They both have a love for the finer things in life: art, literature, fashion, and exotic dishes.

Their common goal is to bring the Olessan Empire into a glory age. This means that they have to shed their opinions of each other. This will be harder for Vaene when he finally learns the truth about the planned coup.

Both Vaene and Cyras would do anything for their spouse and family. His son was taken far too early from him; Cyras' son was accepted into the ranks of the Knights of Agosto.

Vaene hates how guarded Cyras can be around him. He knows that she had a traumatic experience growing up, and that has caused her heart to have walls around it, but he just wishes that she could lean on him.

Cyras admires the way he seems to command presence in a room without really doing anything. Vaene is a very confident, cocky man, but it is to keep people from becoming too close to him. Vaene admires how strong Cyras is. She was an orphan on the streets of Glyndon, the neighboring country, and she rose to the second important position in the Olessan Empire, the Stewardess.

Fandom Original Character

This is the fanfiction section. Maybe, one day I'll make a fancy header for it. lmao.

Star Wars

My two characters that I usually do this for is Agent Cynthia Prescost, my Imperial Agent, and her lover, Darth Noktis: the player character that was known as Darth Nox.

When they walk side by side, she will often walk with her hands behind her back and fingers interlace. Even though they eventually became bonded, Cynthia still shows this respect to Noktis. He will often tell her to relax.

Cynthia was originally sent by Imperial Intelligence to become Noktis' servant when he was an apprentice to keep tabs on his master: Lord Zash.

As soon as Noktis first saw her, he was struck by a vision of the future. He would be ruling the Empire with her by his side. He often struggled with this vision as she is a human and he is a Zabrak. Noktis is often a slave to his visions, and this makes them easily manipulated.

He often tells her he will kill for her, and this does become a reality. When they were visiting the new empress on Dromund Kaas, their plane is sabotaged. Acina, Cynthia, and Noktis go through the jungles and the Sith Temple to return to Kaas City. Cyn is pregnant at the time. When he found out who put his wife in harm, he used his saberstaff to strike down the aggressor before his gathered allies.

Noktis believes that his love for Cynthia is stronger than any hate he could feel. He told her that both the Jedi and Sith are afraid of the attachment. Hate tends to die when the target dies; love is eternal.

Cynthia often likes to dance for Noktis. He enjoys his private dances, but they are often exhibitionists, too.

Their relationship was inspired by Persephone and Hades.

Due to her upbringing, Cynthia is a bit touch-starved. She enjoys it when he just teases her. As Noktis has immense command over the Force, he tends to use the Force to see to those needs. Noktis loves to indulge in the Force, and as his wife, Cynthia loves to watch.

Uncharted

For Uncharted, this happens five years after the events of Uncharted: A Thief's End. Nathan Drake is a widower; Niamh Donovan is the daughter of the late Arthur "Art" Donovan, the inspiration for Indiana Jones.

Niamh was lovingly crafted to compliment Nathan Drake's traits. I had a friend said that they wished that Niamh was included within the Uncharted Universe.

Nathan is 53 (give or take); Niamh is 31. I always believed that the older you are, the more that age is a number.

There are many activities that the two like to do together. They often discuss history, their past hunting adventures, and drinking bourbon together. Niamh is a bartender, and she made her own drink to compliment Nate's personality. She loves to create it for him.

They share the same surrogate father figure: Victor Sullivan. Sully is old friends with her father. While Nathan, Sully, and Elena were dealing with the events shown in "A Thief's End", Arthur Donovan was abducted by Kira Mitchell, the top lieutenant for Rourke McGlouglin. Sully has refused to leave Niamh's side. In fact, Nate is shocked to find Sully at Sunset Shores in 2020.

Nate and Niamh met at her bar Sunset Shores in Kuta Beach, Bali, as he is searching for her father's journal as a way to revive Cassie and Elena. She served him a beer, as she thought that he lost his wife to one of the Balian Natives, but he quickly shoots that down and says he is a widower.

When they are searching for the location of her father's journal, they first start in his study. Niamh often refused to go in there. Nate accompanies her into the room and even holds her as she cries from the memories before they begin the search for a clue or the location of her father's journal.

Nate still wears his wedding ring, and Niamh never asks him to remove it. She could never ask him to simply "move on", but their love does grow.

When they do find the Ark of the Covenant, Nate will have to have a choice. He will not be able to bring back Cassie, but he could Elena. He would need to exchange the life of someone he loves for the life of his true love. Niamh is afraid he will view her as disposable.

[sims4storiesbygracepensora]

Story 4

Story 4: Characters introduced in this story

Danielle Scully, 46 Years Old, Divorced Spouse of Kelly Fottsbury. Family friend of Wendy. Violinist

Story 4: San Mushyno, 122 Hakim House, Same day (Sat 2nd September) 2.30 pm

Door bell rings

Wendy: Oh! Danielle! I'm so happy to see you

Danielle: I hope I didn't disturb you...

Wendy: Not at all! I was just working on some cases and I just wanted to take a break. Come inside!

Wendy: You still have this bad sunburnt from the holidays. So what have you been up to since we last parted?

Danielle:: Hmm nothing much, I'm just going to work, I dropped the boys over to their father and I decided to say hi...

Wendy: How are the boys doing?

Danielle: (hesitantly) Well...

Wendy: What happened?

Danielle:: Well... Please don't say anything to Brenden... I just learned that Isaac is smoking!

(Dianelle is mother to twin boys: Isaac and Carter)

Wendy: (Shokingly) Smoking what ?!?

Danielle:: For God's sake, only plain cigarettes! Though I found him coming home high once!

Wendy: Gosh! Have you tried talking to him? Do you think it's the divorce?

Danielle:: I don't know! He's undergoing speech therapy with the school psychologist and I'm waiting for a feedback... I've tried my best to get them enrolled in this private school and he goes around smoking. You can't imagine how disappointed I am right now. Ok! Let's talk about something else... I'll have my first solo recital next year!

Wendy: Woah! Nice. I know you were working on that!

Danielle: Yeah, My agent finally managed to convince the orchestra to organize that... provided I compose two more melodies till December.

Wendy: Is that a lot of work?

Danielle: If I'm deeply inspired, not much!

(Chantel coming back from her walk around the city)

Wendy: Oh Dianelle, I believe you know Chantel. Willy's daughter?

Danielle: Yeah of course!

Chantel: Hi

Wendy: Chantel asked me if she could stay here until she finds herself an apartment. She's working as a model here and wants to be closer to her job...

Danielle: Great! So how did you find the city, it's different from Brindleton Bay, right?

Chantel: Oh yeah! So much! it's much more busy and people here are quite diverse... I love it.

Danielle: I won't stay long, Wendy, I've got to go to work. I'll call you during the week and please not a word to Brenden.

Wendy: Don't worry, take care!

Chantel: So Danielle's your friend right?

Wendy: Much more than a friend, she's like my daughter! Hmm, she was married to my nephew but now she's... seeing my brother!

Chantel: What?1? No way! (laughs loudly)

Wendy: (annoyed, trying to change the subject) Do you want something to drink, what would you like for dinner?

Chantel: (while looking at her phone) No thanks, I'm invited to this huge party... You know, for work...

Wendy: (disappointed) Oh okay...

Wendy: Are you sure? I can order some sushi...

Chantel: No thanks, I don't eat carbs...

Chantel: I'll get ready...

Wendy: Seems like I'll spent my evening working today as well...

[majorshatterandhare]

Okay, so I’m gonna add the tags so if others see this it will be easier for them to follow along and contribute if they want!

In my (majorshatterandhare) last contribution to this post, where I added the bit right above this, I included the following tags (edited for readability; IE removal of hashtags symbols, addition of punction and uppercase letters, removal of categorization tags, etc):

I very much view Tsuru as Brian. I know there's nothing supporting it but AFAIK there’s nothing saying that’s not the case either, and I enjoy it that way. One more awful thing to add to Brians life ☺️ [closed-eyes, blushing smiling emoji].

THE TRAGIC THING IS [all caps: The tragic thing is] in my interpretation here that the secret spread like wildfire, I think the Spouse could’ve gotten over it; that, had he time and ideally the right support, he would've come to realize that Tsuru is the same person he always was; that he had good reason for keeping this secret; that he, the Spouse, not knowing wasn’t actually a problem, or betrayal, or hurting him, and that his husband doesn't need to tell him absolutely everything. That he is the agent of his own life and only needs to share what he himself wants to (and that the same, of course, applies to the Spouse, himself, as well). BUT HE DIDN’T HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY [all caps: But he didn’t have the opportunity]! Him being upset in the moment is understandable, that doesnt means its Right, just that I understand why he was upset. BUT HE DIDN’T GET THE CHANCE TO PROCESS IT AND COME TO TERMS WITH IT AND SETTLE BACK INTO HIS LOVE FOR TSURU [all caps: But he didn’t get the chance to process it and come to terms with is and settle back into his love for Tsuru]!

I actually think he *started* to, but didn’t get to completion before the mob took over and I also think that, as much as they are mad at Tsuru for being the catalyst for something Taboo, that they see him [the Spouse] as at fault [as well]. I don’t think that after Tsuru is punished/taken away/flees/whatever that the Spouse, in this community he's probably always lived in, was ever free of that 'sin' either. Sure he didn’t know, but he still did something atrocious, and even “how could he have *not* known, really?” etc etc. I think he was never free of the residual taboo that rubbed off on him with Tsuru not there anymore to take that fall. Such a stuck up (?) community still [needs] someone to [throw] their vitriol at, someone to gossip about, someone at the bottom of the pecking order and that becomes the Spouse.

And I think he probably does regret his reaction later. He probably does get to that point with time after the whole shebang that he just wants his husband back.

Fuck fuck FUCK! This is straight off the dome, my friend. One thought leads to another.

He made a mistake! He was shocked and upset and he just needed to process it but some ASSHOLE [all caps: asshole] eavesdropped on his conversation with a trusted friend and the town went insane and now he doesn't have the LOVE OF HIS LIFE [all caps: love of his life] and also is treated terribly [by] *his* community.

The vibes you can get from one 4.5 minute song that is *mostly* the same words repeated. Very rough count; I’m saying 56 total individual words in the song. (For reference Green Eggs and Ham has 50 different words in it)

I am sorry if i didnt respond enough to your idea I think it hurts A LOT [all caps: a lot] but then my brain when off on a tangent! it is a Good Idea!

Then @sun-shadowscast reblogged (the reblog I am reblogging this from) and added these tags (edited for readability, similar to the previous ones):

Had to run laps around my house to [calm] down after reading because MY GOD [all caps: my god] that is a heartbreaking interpretation. Also your good DW!! I get what you mean the brain needs to release because Spouse keeps referring to Tsuru as “my love” throughout the whole song I saw it as they still loved each other, just hurt from the lies and secrets, which is an understandable reaction as you said

Thinking of how similar the town in stranger sounds to the v. religious Brian backstory town. Which if Brian is Tsuru, its a hundred times worse (and by worse I mean better for the angst) maybe Brian was trying to make it right for himself: prove to himself that it was That One Place that was awful; an outlier not an example, but then it all went to shit. Word spread and it was just the same. Cast away for being Wrong; heretical; a demon. And Spouse, most likely being raised among these people, having to choose between his husband and his community. Even when he chooses community how they all see him as been changed

I wonder if they hurt Tsuru/Brian; tore him apart. I am going off on a tangent Words are hard. Because the song is so vague the amount of possibilities are insane.

Now, my response:

The Spouse continuing to refer to Tsuru as “my love” throughout is a *really* good point. He does still love him, he’s just upset!

You are also absolutely correct about this being Particularly Bad for Brian Because of His Past. Can you imagine when he finally rejoins the crew? Who’s gonna put the Drumbot back together (literally with your idea of him being torn apart!). Brian needs more hurt/comfort fic!

I actually like the idea of them trying to destroy him. As always it comes down to personal preference regarding exactly how the mechanisms (lowercase M) heal, but just- I can image maybe they think he’s just a robot; they don’t realize that there’s a human in there (not that this would be an okay thing to do to Frankenstein’s AI, either, but its harder to deny that a human is a Person), and so they are tearing him apart, planning to use him for scraps because that’s all he’s good for or whatever. But then they find his heart. And I think the Spouse isn’t there for this. This is the town mob being feral. And they realize that this *was* organic life, to some degree. But they can’t stop now! They’ve already destroyed him. So the push forward and continue. Maybe they end up putting him parts in a junkyard instead of actually using them as part of that guilt niggling at the backs of their minds, and that’s how he can be saved, because I do need to factor that in.

—Insane idea: if you believe in the mechanical parts as being self healing, they very very slowly are able to move to each other and reassemble!—

But these townspeople, they realize they did something wrong, but they can’t admit it, and they sure as Hell can’t let the Spouse find out. I think that the heart would probably be put somewhere Safe. Maybe a doctor takes it? (Doctor has, in their possession, the heart of a doctor who was revivified and doomed to immortality by a doctor for the crime of revivification. IDK there’s something there)

—Getting him back after this would be very hard but I like the idea a lot so I am barreling forward!—

So some of the townspeople, like they are the kind of people who are able to realize they did something wrong and want to make it right or ensure it never happens again, etc, but they are out numbered by the people who ignore it, potentially even denying the organic nature of Brian and the people who double down that what they did was Right actually (to clarify, these people Know that what the did was Wrong but they cannot accept that so they lie to themselve and make up reasons why they were in the right actually, etc).

In Stranger, I think Brian’s voice getting harder to hear with the other voices is meaningful.

I interpret those voices to be other people finding out and disparaging him. I think where Brian (Tsuru) is from robots are lower class and the idea that a robot would marry a human is absurd, but marrying one while lying about your identity is dastardly. But now he is on a different planet and here they do not have sentient robots. Keeping it a secret is to protect his husband so he can be as innocent as possible should they be found out and prosecuted (he’s still thinking in terms of where he used to live). A monster is semi-literal because the husband has not seen an android before and he is astonished. But people fear what they don’t know, and he becomes angry at Brian (Tsuru) for lying.

As more voices are added more people are finding out about what he did, yet failing to actually listen to him. His husband doesn’t even listen.

I don’t think the husband went and told everyone, but that he was mad and either someone found out by spying or he told one person and that person spread it and those people spread it, etc.

[mysticalrambling]

Hey there😄😄I hope you are doing well...You did my last request so fabulously🤩🤩So I'm back with another request😅😅It's another arranged marriage request and I think its the most bizarre request I ever had so please be patient with me😂😂 and you can decline the request if you don't feel so😅😅...Ok so here it goes..

*Steve and y/n are required to get married under the marriage law, he doesn't wants to but being the good soldier he obeys the government....they get married but steve is cold towards his wife...his teammates tell him to give his marriage a chance but he ignores them...Then the accords happen and without a care he leaves his wife behind who is heartbroken seeing all this..Then after 2 years he sees her but again he feels nothing but after the snap when he saw losses around him and he gives his marriage a second chance, he starts being civil to his wife and cares for her but they never consumated their marriage...When the time heist becomes successful Steve consumates his marriage with the reader out of happiness and she thinks all is well...Everyone returns from snap and no one dies...But steve returns the stones and stays in the past and old steve comes back.... Heartbroken Y/n refuses to meet him and leaves the compound...turns out she was pregnant with Steve's baby and doesn't wants the old steve to know so...One day old steve sees pregnant y/n who is around 7 months pregnant and realises its his baby, he apologizes but she ignores and turn away from him... He goes to get help from Scott bcz he wants to be with his wife and son now bcz he and Peggy couldn't have kids, everyone thought steve was selfish...But then he tells the truth that he never wanted to stay in past, but when he went to say goodbye to peggy, she abducted him and broke the timetravel apparatus and forced him to stay in the past...Young Steve comes back and now his son is born who is around 8 months old...He attempts to get back with his family but his wife still ignores him and doesn't let him come near her or her son...Steve regrets for not loving his wife in the past and also volunteering for returning the stones...Then one day powerbroker (Sharon) blasts the house where steve's family lived thus killing his family, in way to revenge her aunty peggy...Steve is left with nothing but pain and regret....*

Regretting His Decisions (S.R)

A/N: Thank you so much lovely and I loved the plot line. I loved writing about it and I made a few additions to the story. Hope you like it.

Steve Rogers Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master List)

Summary: You and Steve get married and he is really rude to you. Then he leaves you behind and goes back to Peggy but he doesn’t realise that you are pregnant. However, Sharon kills you and the baby to avenge her Aunt Peggy and Steve is left with nothing but pain and regret.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

._._._._.

Steve never wanted to marry you or anyone else for that matter. But the government wanted it and like a good Captain, he listened to them. It was the stupid law and he wanted to wring the neck of those who made it. The protectors of the world had to get married so that the world sees them as fellow citizens instead of humans with super powers.

All the Avengers knew that Steve was hesitant to get married and he was doing out of duty. They knew that it was unfair but they all had met you. They all loved you instantly and knew that you and Steve would hit it off. However, the only problem was that he refused to meet you. The only thing that he knew about you was your name and your job occupation. Apparently, it wasn’t worth his time to get to know his to be wife.

“You need to give it a proper chance before you form an opinion.” It was the night of your bachelor party and while everyone is blackout drunk, Steve and Tony just sat on the side couch. For a person who was getting married tomorrow, Steve looked miserable and Tony couldn’t help but interfere.

“I am doing my job and that’s all that matters.” Taking a quick sip from his glass, he didn’t even wince at the liquid burning his throat.

Sighing, Tony filled up his glass again. A drunk Steve was better than a sober one, in his opinion. “A marriage is not a job and you need to try harder.”

“You don’t get to have an opinion, Tony. You got the perfect girl and the perfect wedding.” Jealousy coursed through his veins when he realised that everyone got to be with the love of their loves while he was stuck with someone who he barely knew.

Tony was left speechless and before he could come up with a response, Steve got up from his place and made his way towards his room. Calling it a night, he dreaded the next morning. He was happy for all of his friends but he also wanted to fall in love over first coffee dates, first movie nights, the first kiss and the moment he proposed because he loved you. Not because he was obligated too.

“You ready, Stevie?” Bucky was trying to be supportive but the headache was killing him. The tequila was literally seeping out of his pores. “How are you not hungover right now?”

“I didn’t drink like a maniac last night.” Adjusting his bow tie, he took a deep breath. This was the most difficult thing that he was going to do in his life and he just wanted to be left alone for sometime. “Can I have a moment alone?”

“Are you going to run if we leave you alone?”

“I am not a quitter and you all know that.” They all filed out of the room and he just sat down on the sofa and gave himself a prep talk.

You were no better on the other hand but you were ready to give it a try. Captain America was a good man and he would make a good husband. At least, that’s what you thought. You understood that the marriage was not happening under the best of circumstances but you could give it a fair chance. Taking a deep breath, you went to join your father on the doorway. He gave you a tearful smile and linked his hands with you.

“Do you take Steve Rogers as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asked the much awaited question and you quietly responded with an ‘I do’. During the whole ceremony, you wanted him to look at you but his eyes kept wandering. You passed it off as nerves but little did you know that he was so repulsed by the idea of this marriage that he refused to look at his wife to be.

“You guys are finally married. Treat her well, Rogers.” Fury took you both in a bear hug while your husband just hummed in response. You were like a daughter to Fury and that is why he recommended you as Steve’s spouse. He knew that Steve was an honorable man so he would fulfill all his duties as a husband.

The whole night was spent with you both smiling and engaging in conversations with the guests. However, you both made minimum effort to talk to each other except a few stolen glances. Your feet were killing you by the end of the event but you were never the one to complain. A look of relief appeared on your face when Steve announced an end to the event and thanked everyone for coming.

“Come on.” Hurriedly meeting his steps, you sat in to the passenger seat and those were the last words that were exchanged between you. When you entered the house, he took you straight to a guest room and then left. Whatever expectations that you had for tonight were crushed and so you went to bed with tears in your eyes and your wedding dress still on you.

During the next few weeks, Steve didn’t even glance at you but whenever you made an effort to do something nice for him, he shot you off. He was not willing to give it a chance and for the first few times that you made him dinner, he just picked it up and threw it in to the trash. You were never allowed in to his room and you learned it the hard way.

One day, you just wanted to put his laundry in to his room because he was not home yet. What was the harm? But boy, were you wrong. He came home early that day and he bursted at you the moment he saw you in his room. He called you some very mean things that you do not even want to recall. That night, you cried so much that your entire pillow was soaked but you didn’t want to leave him. You were in love with him way before you were married. He was the guy who saved the world and he was a good and an ethical man. Maybe he wasn’t nice to you but he was a good man and you couldn’t disagree with that.

It wasn’t that you needed a man in your life or you were dependent on him. It was that you had feelings for the man and your parents never raised you to be a quitter. You were still hoping that it all may be alright in a few days or weeks and you could have a family together. She knew that she had to be realistic but sometimes a girl wanted hope.

“I won’t be coming home for a few days.” At least he had the courtesy to tell you this time that he was going. "I have asked some of the agents to check up on you daily so if you need anything, just ask them."

"Okay." You quickly dismissed his questioning stare because he thought that you would ask questions. However, you knew that he would be rude and you would snap at him this time. A girl could only handle so much.

A week had passed and you got daily updates from Liam and Noah regarding the civil war. You still couldn’t believe that Tony and Steve were fighting because you witnessed their friendship firsthand. They had just informed you that Steve and his team were arrested by the government and shipped off to a black sight. You wanted to go to Fury and ask him to release all of them but Liam told you that it wouldn’t work. It was out of his hands.

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t believe your ears right now. Fury came by your house instead of Liam and Noah. He informed you that Chris and the other Avengers escaped from the prison and no one knows their location. Hurt was one of the most evident feeling running through your body and you didn’t know how to respond. How could he leave without telling you anything? How could he just leave?

“There will be some investigations on you but it would be nothing serious.”

“Why?” You exclaimed.

“The government is convinced that you know their location. It will blow over in sometime.”

“I am not going to sacrifice my freedom for someone who wasn’t even bothered to tell me about all this.” The hurt quickly turned into rage.

“But (Y/N)-”

“Tell all of them that I will not be doing anything and that you all should leave me alone.” You stood up and Fury took it as his cue.

Closing the door, you don’t let yourself ponder over the throbbing ache in your chest and instead get to packing. You were going to move out of this house and leave this life in the past. You moved into your parents house and immediately shot down their questions about Steve. There was a bookstore across from a studio apartment that Tony helped you find in the next few days. You loved books and the job paid pretty well. Soon, you forgot all about Steve and your failed marriage. Of course, there were feelings that you had to bury deep inside of you but you successfully managed to move on with your life.

“Have you heard, munchkin? Cap is back.” Tony shuffled your hair as he entered the library.. Pausing for a minute to absorb his words, you got right back into arranging the magazine section. It was the last thing that you had to do before you got off for the night.

“I don’t care. Are we still on for the night?”

“Yes. Pepper is cooking for the first time. Just say that you like the food.” From the past two years, Tony has been your person. He was the one who ordered you food when you were feeling too low or who massaged your feet when you had feet sores from lugging around books all day. You were thankful to have him in your life because he was not there to support you financially, he was there to support you emotionally. Sometimes, you felt so alone that you thought you might go into depression. But he was there to pull you back and so was Pepper. They were your family.

“Okay, Tony. I already know.” Quite a few things have changed over the years such as you changing your hair color to low lights and getting bangs. You changed your sense of style and. now you were pretty much unrecognizable. It was all in hope of leaving the past and turning over a new leaf. And you were somewhat successful.

“So how was the food?”

“Awesome!” The fake, shrill voice was hard to recognise, even for you but you didn’t want to hurt Pepper’s feelings.

“I know it was not good so I ordered some pizza as a back up.”

“I love you.” A chorus sounded from Tony and you as you both hugged her and kissed her on either cheek.

“Yeah, yeah.” She quickly dismissed you both but the cheeky grin on her face was hard to hide. You called it a night when you started feeling sleepy and you said your goodbyes. Your apartment was only two blocks away so you decided to take a walk to clear your head. Steve had been on your mind since the time Tony mentioned that he was back. As much as you wanted to believe that his arrival didn’t effect you, you couldn’t deny all the feelings that came rushing back in.

“Robbins Library, how may I help you?” Without looking up, you asked the question in a fake, chirpy voice.

“Why are you not at the house?” The voice startled you from your receipt checking and you gave him a confused look. As you had time to process the question, you looked over his appearance. More muscular and a fully grown beard was an interesting look and definitely suited him.

“Well, it was not mine to begin with.”

“I left you that house so you would be comfortable.”

“I am doing just fine without it. You know, I didn’t need anything from you but love and respect.”

Steve was trying to do something nice for you but he didn’t understand you. He felt nothing towards you even if he tried. Guilt coursed through him when he saw the look of hurt on your face but he couldn’t do anything about it. “That is too much.”

“Well, I deserve it and I am not going to settle for anything less.” This time, the brain won the battle and you were secretly glad. You resumed your work and he left without saying another word.

The city was in chaos in a few days because there was an alien invasion in place. The Avengers were all over the problem but Pepper and you were panicked. However, the only difference was that she could ask about Tony’s whereabouts and you couldn’t do that for your husband. There were no updates for you and when Noah came to get you both with a battered suit, you were worried.

Walking towards the tower, you realised that many people were crying but the most important thing was that it looked like half of the population was gone. There were a lot of things that you didn’t understand right now but only one thing mattered. One person. Steve. You ran towards the tower and when you saw him sitting on a chair with his head in his hands.

“What happened?” The logical part of your brain started working right on time.

“We couldn’t prevent the snap and Thor escaped.”

You didn’t know what it all meant but it was definitely something bad. “So what does it mean?”

“It means that half of the human population have disappeared. It means that half of our friends, families, loved ones have disappeared. It means that I have failed!”

“Why are you getting angry at me?”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Do not speak to me like that. I do not deserve it. When you are in the right frame of mind, come talk to me.” You were not the person that suffered silently. You were the person who knew. what she wanted and how she should be treated.

Going outside, you called your parents but it just went to voicemail. However, busy they might have been, they always picked up their phone. So you knew that they were gone too. You were alone in this world and you didn’t know what to do. In the far distance, you saw Tony and Pepper hugging and you were happy to see that your best friend was not gone.

With tears running down your eyes, you turned back and collided into a firm chest. Looking up, you saw Steve and you just wanted someone to be with you right now. That’s what Steve also wanted because he felt like a failure right now. He wanted to give the marriage another chance as he thought that it was a miracle that you both were still here after the snap. It was not fair on you but he just needed someone and so did you. It was a fair trade.

“I just don’t want to be alone right now, Steve.”

“Me too. Let’s go upstairs.” You both just silently hugged each other and kept staring out into the Manhattan skyline. You knew that he didn’t have any feelings towards you and you cared about that. But not today. Today, you wanted to just lie down and soak up in his presence because he was the only one left for you.

He brought you breakfast in bed the next morning and he took you to all the meetings. You were confused as to why he was doing all of it and when you asked him, his answer was ‘I am trying’. You didn’t get your hopes high because you knew that it would be pathetic. This was going to be temporary and you just knew it. However, you just wanted a companion so you rolled with the situation.

“We can work around quantum physics and get all of our friends back.” He informed you over the ice cream that you were sharing. A Netflix movie ran in the background because it was a Saturday and it was a routine for you both.

“That’s a really good thing.”

“We are going to do it tomorrow.”

“Nice. I am going to bed. Are you coming?” He mumbled out a small yes and picked up all the dishes to put them in the sink.

The whole day tomorrow you clinged by your phone and called your parent’s number after every fifteen minutes. You looked crazy by the end of the day but when they finally picked up, you couldn’t explain the joy that coursed through your whole body. Talking to them for hours, you promised that you would visit them and you cancelled the call.

Steve came back with a bottle of wine in his hands to celebrate. “We were successful. The world is saved. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Both your happiness knew no bounds and after a few many glasses, you both were dancing to Taylor Swift songs. By the end of the night, you two were truly drunk and one thing led to another. You woke up the next morning with sheets wrapped around your frame and the pillow beside you crumpled but cold. You regretted the night so much because you knew that he did not have the same feelings for you.

The whole day, you spent cleaning the apartment as there were empty bottles of alcohol laying around. Then you went to the library and today was a busy day because many people wanted an update for the past five years of their lives. It kept you distracted from everything and when Tony came in, it was like the past repeating itself. He told you that Steve went to place the stones back but he came back as old.

You stopped listening to him after sometime as your mind tried to process what was happening. He betrayed you. Again. You were preparing yourself for the hurt whole day but this was totally unexpected. You knew what to do so it was a good thing. Detach yourself from the situation and do damage control. That was your motto for the next seven months and you refused to meet him even after you found out you were pregnant.

“You are in the mood of some ice cream with pickles, hmm little bean?” Rubbing your round belly, you walked towards the snacks aisle. The flavored pickle was on the top shelf but it was out of your reach. A wrinkly hand from behind picked up the jar and when you turned around to thank him, your voice was stuck in your throat. There stood your husband but the older version. The wrinkled face still held some similarities to the young captain but he had a slight hunch and grey hair.

“(Y/N), is that you? Are you- You are pregnant?” The question in his eyes was pretty evident.

“Seven months.” You curtly spoke and wheeled the trolly towards the check out. He quickly figured out the timeline and felt guilty. It was his baby and he left you alone. He caught up to you when you were bagging the groceries.

“I am sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t know. If I could change everything, I would. Please give me another chance.”

“You chose Peggy so you don’t get to come back in my life. Leave us alone. It would be a favor for this child if he never gets to know you.” Telling him off made you feel a whole lot better and you went towards your car.

Seeing you leave, Steve knew that he had to make things right. He went to the compound where all the Avengers were lounging around.

“I thought you had retired, Cap.” Peter called out from playing his video game with Bucky.

“I want your help, Scott. I want to go back to my old self.”

“Why, Captain? Got bored of the grandfather look?” Tony asked while stuffing his mouth with buttered popcorn.

“No. I just found out that my wife is pregnant and I want to be there for them.”

“That’s sweet but why? You already had your chance with Peggy.” Natasha wasn’t very happy with Steve right now but they all had the same question running through their minds.

“Peggy and I couldn’t have kids.”

“So you are using (Y/N) and this kid as a replacement. That’s just selfish, Steve.” Everyone gave him a disgusted look because they couldn’t believe that he was just using you and the child to fill a hole in his life. Not because he loved you both.

“That’s not true. I didn’t want to stay in the past with Peggy but she forced me to. She broke the time machine apparatus and I had no other choice but to accept that life.” He looked at all of them and saw that they all were listening to him. “I made a time machine the whole time I was there and when it was complete, I got the hell out of there.”

“Oh, Steve. We are so sorry. Of course, we will all help you.” Hugging him tight, Nat spoke on behalf of all the others. The machine was all ready to go so Steve stood in the middle of it with Scott. They had to go back and fixed the machine’s timing and it would take some months to do all that.

Meanwhile, you got back home and unpacked all the groceries. Your hormones were running wild at the moment as you sat on the sofa with your swollen feet on the coffee table. You wanted a companion sometimes who would massage your back or who would call you pretty when you were feeling insecure about yourself or who would bring you food at four a.m. But this was a dream and you gave up on it a long time ago. You were enough for your baby and that was a fact.

When Steve came back, 10 months had passed by. You had given birth to a beautiful baby boy after a 21 hour labour. You cried and even though you had your mom with you, you still called out for Steve. You wanted him with you and afterwards, when you held that boy in your hand, you wanted Steve to be there with you to enjoy the moment. However, it was the last time his name even came out of your month.

“Oliver, you need to eat, bubba.” The last 8 months have been a rollercoaster ride for you and you knew through Tony and Pepper that Steve had gone back in time. You didn’t bother with the details because you had another human being to worry about.

“Nooooo.” This one word was the kid’s favorite and everyone of his sentence started with it. You were interrupted in the middle by the doorbell. Picking up your child from the high chair, you made your way through the house towards the door.

“What are you doing here?” Steve looked the same age as you so you knew that the time machine trip was successful. But you saw red. He didn’t deserve you or Oliver.

“(Y/N), is- is that him?” The blubbering baby did not even pay attention to his father and kept on pulling your hair. He was an exact replica of Steve from the dirty blonde hair to the charming smile. A literal reminder for you but you loved this little boy to death.

“Yes and now go away. We don’t need you.” Looking at the baby, he regretted the day he made the decision to be the one to return the stones. He regretted the fact that he did not allow himself to love you. He regretted everything. “Do not come near us. Goodbye.”

You went on with your week as per usual with feeding Ollie in the morning and taking him to the library with you where he had his own play pen. Then getting light lunch across the street and coming back home to take a nap for a few hours. Afterwards, you both ate dinner while Oliver’s favorite cartoons played on the tv. Except for the fact that Steve was at your house, your job and your cafe from the day he came back. He tried to apologize but the years that you spent in agony was too much. It was too little, too late.

It was a Sunday afternoon and by some miracle, Steve had left you alone. He had a meeting with the other Avengers regarding Asgard today. You were just playing with Oliver on his mat as he tried to crawl towards the stuffed toys in your hands. Before you picked him up, you thought that you smelt gas. However, a loud explosion threw you in to the nearest wall and you knew that your time was here. During the last few breaths, you tried to find Oliver but you couldn’t move. Mentally calling out for Steve, your gaze became unfocused and you lost conscious.

“Wha-What happened?” Steve knew that there was a bomb blast and he wanted to hope against all hope that you both were safe. However, the two body bags wheeled out of the burnt down house had him fall to his knees.

“There was an explosion and we caught Agent Sharon fleeing the scene.”

Sharon had confessed that she wanted to have revenge on Steve for cheating on her aunt Peggy. The new family that Steve had was a disgrace to her Aunt’s memories so she murdered them. She had gone a little crazy because Peggy was the one who take care of her when she was a child and she felt that Steve betrayed her.

Steve didn’t know what to do with his life at the moment. He was left all alone and his family was snatched away from him. He didn’t get a chance to be with them and now he was left with nothing but pain and regret. Trying to convince Fury to let him go back in time and prevent the explosion was futile because Fury just told him that this would upset the balance of nature. He didn’t understand it at first but then as time passed, he did. All the toys and photos that were salvaged from the house now decorated Steve’s very lonely apartment and he never let himself forget.

This was his punishment and he was not going to run away from it. Not this time.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N: I loved writing about Steve but I am no longer taking requests for some days. I actually have some of my drafts that I want to complete. You can send in requests but it will take some days for me to get to them:) Love you guys and do tell me if you want to be added to my taglist.

Taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile

Like, comment and reblog.

[elfboyeros]

Another Dr. Reid

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Ship: Spencer Reid and Self Interest

Words: 1000+

Content: language, nonbinary language, marriage, fluff

Note: I started rewatching criminal Minds and forgot how much I loved it and Spencer, so here my friends is a self interest fiction that may have multiple part I have no idea!

It surprises people when they find out Dr. Spencer Reid is married, even two of his dearest friends.

“Prentiss? Whatcha looking at,” Derek asked.

Emily looked over her shoulder be looking back through the glass doors of the bullpen, “I just being curious,” she replied, “any idea who Penelope and JJ are talking to?”

Derek looked that the short individual talking to his work wife and coworker outside of the bullpen, fluffy light gray hair, gray eyes, pale skin, wearing black suspender pants and a simple maroon blouse, “uhm,” he remarked, looking over at Spencer, who just finished his coffee as he stood in the kitchenette before turning back to Emily, “nope no idea. No clue who that is.”

“Sounds like you do,” Rossi remarked approaching the two, as the random individual walked into the bullpen.

The individual gave Derek a small wave before walking towards, Hotch’s office, “yeah you totally don’t know who that this,” Emily chuckled, “so it that one of the charming Derek Morgan’s past flings.”

Derek hadn’t had time to respond as Spencer choked on his coffee, “You okay kid,” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine” he replied, sitting down at his desk, watching Hotch’s office door close.

“It’s good to see you again, Cordelia,” Hotch replied with almost a smile.

“Likewise,” they replied shaking his hand, “what exactly am I here for?”

“I wanted to ask you about this,” he asked, handing them papers

Cordelia took the papers from his hands and sat down, reading over the documents, “Hotch… these are transfer papers, I-I can’t.”

“You are a talent profiler, psychologist, and grief counselor,” Hotch began, “The B.A.U. is looking for agents like you.”

“Thank you, but I can’t accept this,” they replied, “I like the job I have.”

“Cordelia, I personally feel you would be a magnificent addition to this team!”

They sighed, “You know… No, no, I can’t!”

“You can,” Hotch replied, “I am the one asking for you, which will make the transfer easier.”

“You’re not listening, I can’t do this!”

“I believe you can.”

“You’re not in my position!”

“We’ll deal with your position.”

“I doubt that,” Cordelia snapped, back sliding the papers back to him, “I have to many people analyzing my movement every day when I walk in this building, I don’t need more of that!”

“Cordelia, I will make sure that doesn’t happen!”

Cordelia leaned back in the chair they were sitting in, placing the tip of their thumb nail in-between their teeth staring into the bullpen meeting the gaze of a Dr. Spencer Reid before glancing at Hotch, “Aaron,” they exhaled, “I’m married to one of your agents, I’m going to get you in more trouble if I join this team.”

“I will deal with that,” Hotch responded.

Cordelia thought for a moment, “promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“If this backfires, his job isn’t in jeopardy.”

“Spencer’s job will not be jeopardy,” Hotch replied, “and I will do everything to make sure yours isn’t either.”

“I feel like you own me dinner or something,”

Hotch chuckled, “I’ll think about it.”

“Flowers, at least,” Cordelia laughed.

“So, how’s life,” he asked.

Back in the Bullpen Emily and Rossi stared at Spencer, Spencer stared into Hotch’s office, Penelope had entered the bullpen and was having a whisper argument with Morgan as he stared at Emily, Rossi, and Spencer, “Tell them that’s Reid’s spouse,” Penelope whisper yelled.

“Baby girl, it’s not my place, if he didn’t want them to know!”

“He been staring into his office for almost 10 minutes,” Emily remarked.

“And his gears are turning,” Rossi replied.

“I would do anything to know what he is thinking right now,” Emily sighed.

Hotch exited his office with Cordelia, “Most of you know this already, This is agent Cordelia Paris-Reid-”

“Reid,” Rossi questioned, side-eyeing the young man.

“Agent Paris will be a part of this team by next week, treat them nicely,” Hotch continued before his phone rang, “excuse me.”

“Wait, I have so questions,” Emily asked, utterly confused, “your last name is Reid?”

“It has been for the last 3 years now,” Cordelia replied, walking down to the bullpen.

“2 years 295 days, and 9 hours,” Spencer couldn't help but remark.

“Same different,” Cordelia chuckled.

“Not really-wait,” he replied, “did you-”

“Whatever you’re thinking, honey, I had no idea,” they replied, “I got Hotch’s phone call right as you left this morning. I literally had no idea what all this was about until I got here.”

“Honey, you Casanova,” Morgan chuckled.

Reid rolled his eyes, "oh, I’m so excited,” Penelope remarked, “Cupid, you are one of my favorite people, you keep eyes on the boy genius!”

“You two have been together for almost 3 years,” Emily asked.

“Is it that shocking to think he is married,” Cordelia chuckled, “yes, we’re married, a have rings to prove it, yes I love him, and yes I know who you are although that more because you are apart of the B.A.U. not Spencer, oh and Rossi’s books!”

“The question now is why the two of us were never told,” Rossi remarked.

“I would like to know that too,” Cordelia added, turning to Spencer.

“You… never asked,” Spencer replied, giving them a confused look.

Cordelia chuckled, throwing their head back, “he did it for privacy,” they added, “and honestly everything just sort of happened. It’s not like a lot of people were there either.”

“I know have a whole other host of questions,” Emily sighed.

“I will answer any questions you have,” Cordelia responded, “will not any question. Although I will answer whatever questions you have, within reason.”

“There it is,” Rossi chuckled, “or at least a part of it, it’s nice you meet you, Cordelia.”

“You as well,” Cordelia nodded.

“Guys,” Hotch remarked, “child abduction in rural Maryland, wheels up in 20, Cordelia you’re coming with us.”

“Sir, I need to tal-”

“I already have,” he replied, “go downstairs and grab your go bag, you start now!”

“Fuck, alright.”

A few hours in Maryland, Emily and Rossi playing the staring game again, watching Cordelia interview the young sibling of the kidnapped child.

“They are amazing with children,” Emily commented.

“It’s almost shocking,” Rossi added, “Reid, what did Paris do before the F.B.I.?”

“They were a child psychologist and grief counselor,” he replied as he stared at the evidence board, “they have a doctorate in psychology.”

“Oh great, another Dr. Reid,” Rossi joked.

“Actually, Dr. Paris, they don’t use my name that much,” Spencer added, “that’s why they hyphened it.”

“Still to be that good with children, it’s almost like it’s a gift, that will help us a lot,” Emily noted.

“The way Cordelia’s voice sounds added with speech patterns and the language they use with children makes them appear almost child-like,” Spencer mentioned, “they are also “good” with the elderly, hey guys look at this.”

Spencer, Emily, and Rossi were investigating when Cordelia rushed over them, “I think these kids are being abused!”

“Are you sure,” Rossi asked.

“I have spoken to many abused children,” they began, “I know the signs, I know the body language, and have been in that office for an hour and a half that kid, that small child, is afraid of adults and it’s not stranger danger. There is fear in that kid’s eye when I even lift a finger.”

Rossi nodded, “let’s get them in an interrogation room.”

Cordelia was picked to interrogate the mother, “Ma’am please it’s a yes or no question, is your husband abusing your children?!”

“How do you not know,” Cordelia asked, “you are your children first lifeline, you birthed your children! You are the one person that now they can come to, and you don’t know if your husband is hurting your sweet babies?!”

“I… I…”

“I, I, Martha, your child could be dead or dying and you can give a yes or no answer! You know what I think? You are a coward! You know your husband doesn’t love you may even hate you and you though your children you going to save everything,” Cordelia lectured, “but they didn’t and he know hates you and the children so you let him abuse the children because he’s stopped hitting you! He cheats on you and then comes home and hits the kids! Then this time he hit your son a little too hard and kill him! Right, ri-”

“I DID IT! I KILLED HIM!”

Cordelia looked at the woman wide eyed, “I NEVER WANTED CHILDREN! HE MADE HAVE THEM AND JOHN WAS JUST SO LOUD AND HE WOULDN NEVER LISTEN SO-”

Cordelia left the interrogation room before she could finish, “that was very unprofessional,” Hotch mentioned.

“Does that mean I don’t get the job at the be B.A.U.?”

“No,” he chuckled slightly, "I said that your started today."

“Aaron Hotchner, I hate you,” Cordelia sighed with a smiled.

“Everyone does.”

Once solved the team headed home, Cordelia sat on the sofa in legs curled into themself, resting their head against their head, “first case with the B.A.U. how are you feeling,” Spencer asked.

“I haven’t put my finger on it,” they sighed, “it feels like I am not supposed to be here, but also I feel oddly fulfilled.”

“I think you did great,” Spencer added, as Cordelia placed their legs in his lap, “it was nice working with you.”

“Well, you be working with me a lot, at least for a little while,” they chuckled, “for better or for worse.”

“I am going to honest,” he sighed, “I don’t see this lasting long.”

“Me neither. Although Hotch seems to be willing to fight to keep me around.”

“Really puts a pin in the whole quitting the F.B.I. to go back to being a Child Psychologist.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia sighed.

Spencer cupped their cheek, “no is a two-letter word.”

“Hotch wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Cordelia sighed, leaning into his cheek.

“I can talk to him, let him see if he’ll-”

“No, it’s fine. If I stay, I stay, I’m done trying to fight the F.B.I. I did enough that when we got married.”

“That was not fun.”

“No, it was not,” Cordelia chuckled.

“At least we get to spend a little more time together,” Spencer cooed, “although this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Cordelia laughed, “I love you,” they cooed back.

“I love you too,” Spencer yearned, pulling them close and kissing their forehead.

“That is genuine love,” Emily sighed.

“It looks disgusting,” Rossi joked.

“Yep,” Emily sighed.

“We can hear you,” Spencer huffed.

“And if you want disgusting, I can start making out with him right in front of you,” Cordelia joked, before sticking their tongue out at the two them over Spencer's shoulder as they were now spread out on the couch

“I am too old to see something like that,” Rossi chuckled.

“Please don’t make out on the jet,” Hotch commented.

“Will it get me fired,” Cordelia asked, kissing Spencer's cheek.

“No.”

“Damn.”