#I thought the closest store was the german one

[girlitfeelsgood]

just discovered that there's a danish universal music store that does ship cds and stuff to sweden so I got the collector's edition of the black dog variant hihi

[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

"who are you, and why do you have my number?"

you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.

the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen. 

sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense. 

today is one of those days.

the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.

it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary. 

you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.

will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind. 

"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.

you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag. 

"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."

"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"

"okay, sure," you laugh. 

honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side. 

you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself. 

after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.

at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.

"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."

you tilt your head, laughing. 

"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."

"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."

you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team. 

you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.

as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life. 

it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.

eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened. 

you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.

"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.

yasmeen shrugs. 

"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."

"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."

you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug. 

"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"

"never," you promise.

when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower. 

the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm. 

you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.

when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.

when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange. 

it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.

confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.

+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!????? 

+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit

your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation. 

hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.

you: hi?

almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.

+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?

+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?

your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.

you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.

for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.

before you can, a new message pops up.

+49 176 1234567: wait, what?

+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?

+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!

there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.

+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.

you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.

+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.

+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.

you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.

you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about. 

this time, the chat explodes with messages.

+49 171 7654321: what?!

+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?

+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball? 

+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?

+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.

+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia 

you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake. 

you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.

+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?

+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.

+44 171 9900000: wtffff 

+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.

you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?

+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?

+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA 

+57 170 9193831: wait… 

you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real. 

you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.

after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.

+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.

+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.

+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills

you: who’s laura

+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt

+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out

a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified. 

*sydneylohmann is now following you*

and another 

*georgiastanway is now following you* 

*tuvahansen is now following you* 

and more.. 

*leaschuller is now following you* 

*lenaoberdorf is now following you* 

*kathi.ng is now following you* 

*pharder10 is now following you*

*guzman013_ is now following you* 

*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you* 

now it seems like the whole team is catching on.. 

*buehlklara is now following you* 

*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you* 

*magou_doucoure is now following you* 

*dahmannlinda is now following you* 

it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.

they’re professional soccer players.

you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players. 

trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.

after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.

you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha 

they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.

+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia

+49 171 7654321: sydney

+44 177 9900000: georgia s 

+49 179 7777777: lea 

+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜

it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat. 

they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich. 

a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.

georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.

sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.

lena: i can definitely ��️

lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg.. 

lena: lea shushhhh 🙄

pernille: ??? 

you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person. 

sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.

as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group. 

in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.

klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe? 

lena: ^

you: i promise. i like you guys! 

it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened. 

as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.

part two here

[saleintothe90s]

500. The 1984 Olympics Sports Illustrated Preview Issue (July 18, 1984) Part 1.

I'm totally late, but aren't we all having a little bit of Olympic withdrawal? This was a big magazine for me as a kid, big. My mom got it for me at the thrift store in 1994 when I was 10 because at the time I collected old issues of Sports Illustrated for the figure skating articles. This issue was massive, about five hundred pages. Five hundred pages of ads and photos I still remember 30 years later.

Like this Levi's ad! I still remember the lady in her maternity jeans, and how the kids couldn't wear riveted Levi's to school because they'd scratch up the desks.

There were several extended profiles of athletes that were expected to win big in Los Angeles, such as Carl Lewis.

Carl Lewis: mall lover.

Embarrassing baby photos of the athletes were a common occurrence.

I forgot to mention the Renault Fuego when I did that write up on Renault's short lived visit in the States.

I thought the Chrysler Laser was a thing in Canada, and we in the U.S. had the Plymouth Laser. No! We had the Chrysler first for a couple of years and then we had the Plymouth for a few years? That Lee Iacocca made things so confusing. I've mentioned before that I grew up alongside my niece and when we were in high school, she bought a used green Laser, and I was so jealous.

Autoweek went looking for one of the special 1984 Olympic edition GMC Jimmys, but couldn't find one.

I love that its a heartwarming story about how Bill Toomey almost didn't win the 1968 decathlon, and then its just ...screwdrivers at Sears.

I've spent thirty years trying to figure out what album German swimmer Michael Gross has against his stereo. Bap? Rap? I'm gonna eBay image search it. Okay, so it is a German album by Bap.

1984 was definitely the first 'puter Olympics. Not the first internet Olympics like Atlanta or Nagano, but one where computers were definitely advertised. Looks like the closest Sears Business Systems Center to me was in Virginia Beach where a Shake Shack is today.

When I was a kid looking at this ad, I thought that was the real Charlie Chaplin, and he was still alive in 1984 selling IBM PCJr computers with those awful keyboards. Clint from LGR called the space bar a "gooey celery stick".

This was a sweet section about athletes reminiscing about their time during the first Olympics held in LA back in 1932. The hop step and jump is what we would call the triple jump today. The Sports Illustrated vault is absolute garbage now, but you can still read the text from the other athletes profiled. Ellen Preis the Frencer from Austria had a heck of a story:

ELLEN PREIS AUSTRIA FENCING, INDIVIDUAL FOIL

When we arrived in the United States, we met the mayor of New York. I can't remember his name [it was Jimmy Walker], but I remember he made a lot of funny jokes. He took us to Sing Sing, which was both interesting and a great shock. We sat in the electric chair. It felt awful. Afterward we saw criminals on Death Row, and I felt very sorry for them. Then they took us to a laboratory, and we saw 42 jars containing the brains of criminals who had died in the chair. I was very young, and it made a strong impression.

I still haven't forgotten this ad, Fisher. It totally worked.

Part 2 coming soon.

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[raleighcarreras]

perfectus

Part 1: and I know I said go slow

Pairing: wanda maximoff x black!fem!reader

Rating: M (language)

Wrd Cnt: 1.5k+ maybe?

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, angst, slow-ish burn, eventual smut

Part(s): 2,

Summary: You're determined to be in a committed relationship by Valentine's Day. So what if it's a capitalistic holiday that holds no real significance. In your 25 years of life, you've never had a Valentine and if you make it to 26 the same way, you might just jump out of a window. So, you and your best friend Wanda have 60 days to accomplish the impossible.

Little do you know, your Valentine has been right under your nose the entire time. And Wanda has a plan of her own. Sorta.

Notes: trying my little hand at a rom-com because I get to do whatever I want around here. here's the playlist for this fic. the title song is 365 by Katy Perry & Zedd. Translation done by Google translate of course.

Falling deeper than before. Say that you are ready, lock it up in a heartbeat.

How early was too early for stores to start prepping the shelves for Valentine's day? Christmas was still a week away. Certainly, you would have thought that would be too early.

But the Walgreens closest to your and Wanda's apartment had other ideas. They were shoving the teddy bears with hearts sewn to their paws right next to the teddy bears with santa hats sewn to their heads.

Even worse? They blended together seamlessly because everything was red!

You had crossed your arms and pouted severely as you recounted the blasphemy you had encountered (while trying to retrieve your daily vitamins and a bag of baked cheetos) to your best friend, Wanda Maximoff.

"Are you even listening, Wands?!" You shrieked something serious.

Wanda only peaked one of her eyes opened, "Yeah."

You flopped onto the couch heavily. You threw your feet to one end and laid your head in her lap, "Then what did I say?"

"You said that it was stupid to put the V-day stuff out so early but you only feel that way because it reminds you of how lonely you are."

You stared up at her, "That isn't what I said in the slightest."

"No, but it's what you meant."

You scrunched your nose up in offense, "I don't like you."

Wanda smiled softly, "Liar."

"You smell like smoke."

Wanda laughed out loud at that. She gestured for you to get off her lap so she could extradite herself from the couch, "That's what happens when you're a volunteer firefighter. Sometimes, you encounter fires."

Wanda stretched dubiously, as if to empathize her point. Her wife-pleaser raised above her midriff. You made it a point not to look. You had always been envious(?) of her body in a wierd homoerotic way that you rather not explore.

"Did you save everyone?"

Wanda walked over to the kitchen, probably in search of a Nutri-Grain bar, as was her routine.

"No one to save. Some teen thought it would be funny to light a match next to a newspaper stand."

You stretched your neck over the edge of the couch to see her. She was upside down in your vision, but you would make do.

"My brave bestie."

Wanda mumbled something that you couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

"I said it wasn't really about being brave. I could have thrown a cup of water on it and it would have been fine."

"Well, I still think you're brave. Even though you didn't run into a burning building today, doesn't mean you haven't before. And you're doing it for free? You're a hero in my book."

Wanda's cheeks reddened, "Thanks."

You hummed, "Where's Kaiser?"

"Who? Oh! I locked him in your room."

You gave a scandalized gasp and jumped up. You ran to your room, opening the door to the saddest puppy you have ever seen in your life.

You picked up the german shepherd and husky mix, cuddling him into your chest. You walked back into the livingroom with a scowl.

Wanda huffed, "What? He screams for you when you leave and I was trying to take a nap before I go to the bar."

"Your mommy is so mean, isn't she, my little kaiser roll?" You're 76% sure he nodded at you in confirmation.

"I'm not his mommy. He hates me! Despite having saved him from a tree. He's a dog, why was he in a tree!?"

"He's adventurous and he can smell your fear." You thought back to the day Wanda seemed to reluctantly come back home with a random puppy, despite not having left with one.

She told you that she had to boost Natasha into the tree during one of their shifts and in the process Natasha had stepped on her face to retrieve him. No one else could take him home and they didn't want to drop him off at a shelter because he was clearly not that smart. Wanda drew the short fire hose.

"He's the size of my shoe, I'm not scared of him."

"You're still a bad mom. Say sorry to our son."

Wanda turned to you with an incredulous look that quickly turned exasperated when she saw you were serious, "I'm sorry, Kaiser."

Kaiser gave her a look that was clearly meant to be perceived as triumph over Wanda.

"He said apology accepted."

Kaiser barked.

"No he didn't."

You placed Kaiser down on the floor and watched as he curled into a ball at your feet.

"Anyway, back to the problem I brought up earlier. I refuse to be without a Valentine next year. Tony is inevitably going to rent out your bar for a stupid little love day party and if I don't have a date I think I might explode."

Wanda returned to the livingroom. Kaiser nipped at her ankle when she got decidedly too close to you.

"Who cares if you have a date or not? You normally don't."

Your groan forced you deeper into the couch, "Exactly! All of our friends probably think I'm a loser and unlovable. And...and fuck, I just don't want to spend another year alone."

Wanda's brows furrowed, "You're not alone. You have me. And I know for a fact that you're not a loser and extremely lovable."

You pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes, "You're supposed to say that. You're my best friend. If you didn't think that the bestie police would like arrest you or something."

"That's not a real thing."

"Sure it is. And so is me needing to be boo'd up in the next 60 days." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I'm still not understanding the rush-"

"Wanda, when was the last time I brought someone home?"

Wanda wished she didn't have to think so hard, "Oh! Three nights ago!"

"That was Pietro. And I definitely didn't fuck him. One, because he's gay, and two, because we were in here the whole night and you were with us!"

"Yeah...okay, last week?"

"That was Natasha." You deadpanned.

"The week before that?"

You rolled your eyes so hard Wanda feared she have to catch them when they fell out and rolled to the ground.

"That broad was here for you!"

Wanda sunk into the couch cushions, "Damn. It has been awhile."

"See?!"

"But that doesn't mean you need to fall over yourself to find someone by Valentine's day. Besides, we always do Galentine's instead. What about that?"

"Technically, I need to find someone before then because I want to be in a committed relationship by V-day. We can still do Galentine's with Nat and Carol. It'll just have to be earlier in the day." You said easily. You didn't notice the miffed expression Wanda was giving you.

"How are you going to even do any of this?"

You smiled brightly, turning to face Wanda, "With your help, of course! And probably Nat, Tony, Carol, and Sam's too. You guys will find me suitable dates. And we'll go from there. I'll even reactivate my Tinder account."

Wanda's frown deepened even further, "But you hate Tinder."

"That's how you know I'm serious about this."

Wanda watched as you frantically typed away on your phone. Informing your friends of your plans and setting up multiple online dating profiles.

"There's no talking you out of this, is there?"

You only shook your head with an infuriating smile.

"Fine. I'll ask around I guess."

"Yay! Thank you, Wands!" You threw yourself into Wanda for a hug. Wrapping your arms around her neck as much as you could.

Wanda patted your back.

"Youre welcome, Detka. At least this way I know they won't be the losers you normally have an affinity for."

You pulled away, "I do not have an 'affinity for losers'."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Which one of your exes has not been a loser?"

"Carly!"

"We were 16 when you dated Carly. She was definitely a loser."

"Jackson?"

Wanda's eyes widened, "Jackson tried to cheat on you. With me!"

You shrugged, more than over that by now, "Yeah, but he was so hot. And his dic-"

"Okay. You win. Moving on."

Kaiser hopped up onto your lap.

"Your mommy is so easy, Kai."

Wanda just scowled.

"And your dumbass agreed to that?"

Wanda huffed for the fourth time that evening.

This little coffee break with Natasha and Sam was not going well. She thought they'd be on her side when she explained the crazy episode you had the day before.

But instead, they were just staring at her like she had three heads. She wasn't the crazy one. You were!

"What do you mean? I had no choice. She volunteered me!"

Sam blinked. Once. Twice, "Did it not occur to you to just say 'No'?"

"Of course it did. But I couldn't!"

It was Natasha's turn to blink blankly, "And why not?"

"B-Because!"

Natasha and Sam shared a glance.

Natasha shook her head in astonishment, "Oh my God."

"What?" Wanda asked softly, thinking something was wrong.

"oH. My. GOd." Sam, for his part, looked just as confused as Wanda.

"What, Natasha?!"

"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH Y/N!" Natasha exclaimed with a half shriek half laugh thing that caused her to choke. Sam patted her softly on the back while looking at Wanda in shock.

"Заткнись на хрен." Wanda said through gritted teeth, looking around the fire department's lounge like you would pop out from behind a light fixture at any second.

Sam pouted, "Hey, no Russian. Bucky still won't teach me anything. Not even the cuss words."

"She told me to 'shut the fuck up'. Which obviously means I'm right, Sammy boy."

Sam turned to Wanda, "Then why did you agree to this!?"

Wanda blew out a latte scented breath. The cat was out of the bag and there was no getting it back in. So, she might as well have leaned into it.

"Because she asked." Wanda shrugged.

"You simp. I'm so ashamed of you right now." Sam said with a shake of his head.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "When was the last time you said 'No' to Steve?"

"This isn't about me, Wanda."

"Anyway, so you're actually going to let her go on dates and potentially find a life partner even though you like her?" Natasha asked with a concerned grimace.

"Yes. As long as she's happy. If she liked me back she wouldn't always put me in second place."

Natasha shook her head, "That's not fair! You're always in second place because she doesn't even know you're in the damn race."

"And you're not going to tell her, are you?" Sam said with a soft, sad smile.

"No. I'm going to help her get ready for her dates with a big smile on my face. And if she finds the love her life. I'll be happy for her."

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"You looked like you were going to burst into sobs while saying that."

Wanda scratched at the side of her head, "Yeah. I'm-uh-still working on that."

Sam was silent for a moment, "Can we make a deal?"

"Depends?"

"If she still hasn't found a Valentine by February 13th, you ask her. And not in a 'besties gal pals BF4EVA' way. In a 'if you took off literally any peice of clothing even a sock I would have to change my pants' way."

Wanda dismissed her blush with a breathy chuckle, "Deal. But we all have to take this assignment seriously. I'm a last resort. No setting her up with losers."

Natasha and Sam both looked reluctant to shake hands on those terms, but they did anyway.

"Deal."

[emilieautumnarchives]

Happy New Year from the Asylum, and Rare Posters!

Posted: December 28, 2009 Archived from BonnyTymePyrate’s Journal Archives

Dearest Plague Rats,

Have I taken the time to thank you properly for being there with all of us lunatics on the N. American tour? If I have not, THANK YOU!!! From the bottom of my plague-ridden heart, thank you. As I said so many times on stage, you have proven me right and everybody else wrong (we have no audience in America? Really???), and I love you for that. Many of you drove for hours to see us, and god knows we drove for hours to see you;), and I now sit in a cell surrounded by letters and paintings and poems and rats and tokens of remembrance given to me by you, but the most cherished gift of all is that you sang with me. You sang with me, and you knew every word, and I will never forget that. My girls and I saw MANY of you beautiful Muffins coming to show after show after show, and in the end we felt like we were singing to old friends…and don’t think I don’t realize that a lot of you had waited more than five years to see me, and I thank you sincerely for not giving up on me that I would ever come to you, because I know for some time it seemed that I would never make it back to the homeland. I thought perhaps you would have forgotten me, but I didn’t give up on you, and we made this happen at last, both of us hoping and praying that the other would be there, and the magic is that we all were! So, is the economy down? Yes. Are ticket sales down more than 60% for all concerts in America no matter the artist? Yes. But did we all make it happen, and do what it took to find each other at last, despite these odds, AND dress up in our finest Asylum best? YES. Should I stopping asking myself questions? Yes.

Of course, for my VIP Book Reading PRs (you know you are all VIPs to us, PRs): You gave me your time and your love each and every night. You cried with me. You watched me bleed. You heard things about me that my closest friends don’t know, and you accepted them with open ratty hearts. And you sang “My Fairweather Friend” with me and gave new and happy memories to a song I had only before associated with sadness. I adored meeting you, I adored holding you in my arms and taking beautiful sexy crazy photos with you, I adored singing with you, I adored teaching you all about leeches (THE AMAZING LEECH!!!), I adored sharing out secrets, and we ALL enjoyed the tea cookies many of you made for us;)…we had some sweet after-show bus parties with those!

Lastly, I want to thank all of the parents (and there were many) who took their young Plague Rats to see us. Some of you knew about us and wanted to sing along too, and others just went because you saw how much it meant to your little ones that they could be there that night, and you may be sure that it meant just as much to me and the Crumpets, because (a) we recruit early;), and (b) there is something in the Asylum for everybody, regardless of age (we’re pretty much a dinner theatre children’s show anyway…). I saw (and was happy to meet many of you) mothers and daughters (often both dressed to the nines), fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, fathers and sons, (no, I won’t go through every genetic combination here) fathers carrying tiny daughters on their shoulders so they could see…having a four-year-old with a heart painted on her cheek call out “I’m still innocent!!” after the song “I Want My Innocence Back”…well, it just doesn’t get much better than that.

Now, Europe…N. America has raised the bar, so get ready to fight like a girl, because we are coming for you;)…and we can hardly wait!!!

Final note: Sir Edward and the Asylum presents a very limited number of Autographed German “Opheliac” Promotional Posters on eBay. These are up for one day only, and are a bit special if I do say so myself as they have never been made available to the public for sale, but were used for promotional store use only. They are also really big, and the ratties want to have them for dinner, so get them before they do…

So, for the moment, I wish all of my little rats all over the world a very Happy New Year of Plague spreading! I am so proud of us all;)!!!

With Love & Bloody Crumpets from the Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, Block B, Cell W14, Inmate A,

EA, Sir Edward, and Basil

P.S.

The Asylum Army: Are You Committed?

P.P.S.

The Plague: Get it. Feed it. Spread it.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 14. Icy Roads

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Small village in the English countryside

A/N: I had so much fun writing with an OC for Snape so I thought I’d do another OC, with Hans this time 🥰 Now, I’ll say it right at the beginning here that this will be CONTINUED - tomorrow already actually since the prompts work well for what I have in mind 😂 This is just a meet-cute with instant attraction and I hope you’ll enjoy it, tomorrows prompt will probably be a lot “deeper” but today they meet for the first time and it’s adorable if a tiny bit sad, and there’s a bit of action too. I mean, it’s Hans so there’s gotta be something to set it all off 🙈

And there’s a German word in this fic - if you don’t know it please resist the urge to google it! I promise, it’ll be worth holding out until tomorrow for it as the OC has no idea what it means either and I have a plan for the word! 😂👏

Tags/TW’s: Meet-Cute, Instant Attraction, Near-Car Accident, Mentions Negative Family Relations, Questioning Self-Worth, Taught Negative Behaviour.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

I had bought all the gifts, the food, and the wrapping paper needed. The only thing left was the string I’d forgotten yesterday in the shopping chaos. “I thought I was doing good time-wise, why does every nitwit have to be out at the same bloody time as me?” I sighed, my breath turning to fog, and hurried along, heading for the little gift shop with nick-knacks and trinkets. It was the closest one, so even if it were a bit over-priced that’s where I was headed.

The wind was biting my cheeks, tugging on my long coat and scarf. I much rather would have been home, but of course, nobody else was willing to head out in the freezing cold. “I can’t be arsed,” I grumbled, imitating my sister’s words and pitchy voice from when I’d asked her to go instead of me since I was out nearly all day yesterday. Why she gotta be such a prat? And dad’s no better, always faffing around and bending backwards for his little princess… WHAT ABOUT ME?!

My feet thudded against the slippery sidewalk, frozen mounds of snow and previous slush separating me from the road with little to no traffic - a good thing given the blasted weather. I wiped at my eyes, my knitted gloves (that I’d made as a Christmas gift for myself last year since nobody could ever be bothered to get me anything) rubbing away the snow stuck in my lashes. “I can barely see where I’m putting my feet… This is bonkers,” I sighed and tugged the scarf a little tighter around my neck.

I made it to the little store, got the blasted string, and headed back out into the crazy weather that had somehow managed to pick up its pace in terms of both wind and snowfall. “Bloody brilliant, just wonderful. I’ll be soaked and frozen before I get home.”

With the new snow landing atop the frozen roads, they soon turned slippery, treacherous even. I walked with more care, making an effort to not land on my arse because of some damn string for some stupid gifts.

But, no matter how careful one is, you can’t make up for the way others behave. So, when I wipe my eyes for the millionth time I missed the man walking towards me in a hurry and all it took was a bumping of my shoulder and I was off balance.

“Hey! Watch—” My sentence got cut off as I stumbled against the snow mound. Tripping over it, wobbling about like some deer on ice I stumble out on the road, just barely remaining upright. With my arms out like some bloody scarecrow, I managed to catch my breath and find my balance anew.

I glare after the man whose back disappears into the snowy weather just a few feet away. “Brilliant, what a charming bloke,” I grumbled as I tried to make my way off the slippery road affording my boots no grip whatsoever.

“Are you alright?” a man asked over the wind, his accent quite strange. “What?” “Are you alright?” he asked anew as I peered towards the sidewalk, not really able to make out any of his features but a beard and broad shoulders through the swirling snow. “Fine, people can be so bloody charming!” I called back with a tad too much annoyance in my voice. “And I thought Christmas was the time of kindness and care,” I continued with a huff and the man laughed with a chuckle. The wind distorted it but it sounded quite deep and beautiful.

I took a step forward, gliding half a step further on the ice. This is ridiculous! “Watch out!” the man suddenly shouted and I had just enough time to turn my head to see the oncoming headlights lighting up the falling snow being tossed about by the wind.

My feet found no traction. I tried to get out of the way but I was walking in the same spot as dread filled my stomach. I’m gonna die because of string! “MOVE!” the man screamed as the car began to honk, the driver slamming on the brakes, making the car skid and slide on the road. I closed my eyes on instinct and lost my breath at the impact, throwing me backwards, making me slide along the road until my head hit the snow mound on the other side.

It hurt way less than I would have thought to be hit by a car, I felt almost fine. Perhaps my spine is broken and I can’t feel a thing?

“Are you alright?” That accented voice asked but it was far closer this time. “Miss? Are you hurt?” the man continued and I blinked my eyes open only to see a man’s face hovering right above mine. “Huh?” “Are you hurt?” he asked with more force and the depth of his voice seemed to send a chill down my spine. The icy blue eyes and thick beard, the rather large but somehow regal nose appeared perfectly suited to his face. I didn’t get hit by the car?

“I’m-, I’m fine. Did you-, did you knock me out of the way? Are you daft?! You could have been hit!” “You would have been, if I hadn’t done that, schnuki,” the man said, the last word spoken in thick German — which explained the accent but not my body warming each time he spoke. Or the way he seemed to actually see me, not just watch me but his eyes… they saw me. “Now, let’s get you up,” he continued and somehow managed to rise up and off me quite elegantly; his long black coat dusted with snow.

He reached out his leather glove covered hand and after a moment of me ogling the man without realising what I was doing I grabbed it and he pulled me up. “Ahh-, bloody hell,” I hissed as my back protested for a bit and snow slid inside my coat, chilling my skin and making me shiver. “Hurt?” “No, no, just-, snow, in my coat,” I said and shivered before brushing off my arms from the white stuff.

I shrugged my entire body to shake myself loose while ha brushed off the arms of his own coat. “Oh, here, let me help.” I reached up and began brushing off the shoulders of his coat and down the front before I noticed what the bloody hell I was doing. My cheeks began to burn as I halted my motion, almost not daring to look up at him, towering a head above me. “I-, umh, I-, sorry,” I stammered out but he merely looked at me.

“We should get off the road. Wouldn’t want another car to come, schnuki,” he said after a moment. I blinked away the snow from my lashes and nodded, unable to get my usually blabbering mouth to function apparently. He was just so different. I couldn’t help but ogle the man a few seconds too long before turning and clumsily climbing over the snow mound on the opposite side of the road to where I had been.

When I looked over my shoulder he simply walked up and over it, as if it were no hindrance to him or the polished Oxford boots he wore. He dressed splendidly, each piece of clothing exuding wealth and quality — unlike my tattered favourite coat and the homemade scarf and mittens I wore. Well, he’s older too so he’s probably had time to get to where he is. I’ll get myself some fancy coat and good shoes eventually too, hopefully, if things work out. Not that I’ll ever leave this godforsaken village. Dad would starve or not have any clean clothes to wear — I don’t even know which he’d hate more. The house would collapse and who would sis blame everything wrong with her life on if I wasn’t there?

“Thoughtful?” the man asked and I shook my head, realising I’d been damn near staring at him while my mind ran rampant. “You appear to think of something, less happy? No?” he asked and I couldn’t help but adore the accent, the way he spoke so differently but with some form of quality, nobody around my little home town spoke like that. Nonetheless, it didn’t help my burning cheeks that he’d caught onto my gloom.

“So, eh, thanks for pushing me-, umh, saving me,” I managed to say in some kind of nearly coherent manner. What is wrong with me? He’s just a man, a pleasant and handsome and cultivated and obviously wealthy one, but still. Ugh, why can’t I talk with him like with any other of the nitwits around here? They don’t call me Blabber Missy for no reason. And look, my mind obviously works just fine, blabbering on. “A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be out in this weather, alone no less.” “Well, dad couldn’t be bothered with string for the gifts and sis just couldn’t be bothered at all. So, yeah, and it was my fault anyway, I was out yesterday but forgot the string. I got everything else, but they didn’t have my favourite caramels left either. So, I guess, apart from the one thing I was gonna get for myself and the string I got everything.”

“Then again, I guess I could have-, oh, sorry, I’m blabbering,” I laughed nervously while avoiding his gaze, moving some snow with the toe of my shoe. But the man chuckled warmly, nearly playfully. “She speaks,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Well, yeah, I talk a lot, sorry, I know it’s annoying.” “Ah, don’t say that, schnuki. You have a sweet voice,” he said and my eyes flew up to his.

“Something the matter?” “Ah, umh, no, just-, just been a while since someone didn’t find me annoying,” I said with a shrug, not really wanting to show him just how long it had been since I hadn’t been shushed, had someone roll their eyes at me, or even been straight up told to ‘shut it, blabber missy’. “But it’s fine, I know I talk a lot, if there’s someone who-, ah, no, never mind. I’ll be going then.” “May I have your name at least? Or is that not something you exchange in England?” “Oh god, I’m sorry, excuse me,” I gasped out while reaching my hand out with haste. “Anna-Louisa Humphrey, but everyone just calls me Lulu.” “Why would anyone shorten such a pretty name to Lulu?” he asked, almost offended by my nickname it seemed. “I suppose they got tired of having to say the entirety of it so often when telling me to be quiet once every third minute when I was little. Lulu is faster to say, easier to say when you’re in a hurry too.” I shrugged, having given up on getting rid of the nickname a long time ago and now not really being bothered by it anymore.

The man took a slightly deeper breath, nearly sighing as he reached his hand out and grasped mine firmly but not too harshly. “Hans Gruber,” he said and the name made perfect sense for him. “It suits you, Mr Gruber.” “You may call me Hans, schnuki. If you so please,” he said with a slight smile framed by that thick beard of his. He was stupidly handsome when he smiled, and silly-handsome when he didn’t. I couldn’t decide which I liked more but my body seemed to go silly over both. At least I wasn’t cold anymore. “Hans, then,” I said and we shook hands. It felt a little strange to get tingly over it now that I knew he had tackled me out of the way and the slight ache in my ribs was from the impact of his body.

“I best be going, it’s getting quite late. Umh, but, thank you again and-, and I’m sorry for being a nuisance and all. I didn’t mean for you to have to get snow all over you to save me. I hope your coat won’t get stains from the road salt,” I rambled out in a rush, feeling like the biggest annoyance to the man ever even if he had not indicated that he felt like that in any way, but they all do. I am a nuisance, an annoying blabbermouth that nobody ever listens to anyway but— “Anna-Louisa,” he said with a slightly harsher voice, interrupting my thoughts, “why would my coat matter more than getting you out of the way of that car?” “It looks like an expensive coat, valuable.” “And you’re not?”

That made me chuckle nervously while getting my hair out of my face, the snowfall turning it wetter by the minute. But he arched a brow at me, as if he demanded me to answer his question. “I best be going,” I simply said as I began to back away, feeling the most horrible ache in my chest while he started to open his mouth, but I continued talking before he had a chance. “It’s late, and you’re getting soggy from the snow, but thank you again, and merry Christmas, Hans,” I said with as wide a smile as I could offer before abruptly turning and bolting away from him — zeroing in my focus on not slipping or falling on my arse while my boots slipped along the sidewalk covered with snow-dusted ice.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: Are we excited to see where this may go? 👀🙈 And don't worry, for all you waiting on the continuation of prompt 8. To Be Alone that's also a Gruber fic, IT'S COMINg, I sjtu needed to make it fit with the prompts and I'm nearly done with it 🥰

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky  @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @snowblossomreads @leah1243 @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2022]

[tetsunabouquet]

9, 12 and 33 for your 50 followers event if that's not too much. 💙

It's not hun!

9 What's your favorite scene in KNB? Hmm, that's actually a bit of a difficult question but I feel like the scene in which Midorima has those tiny flashbacks about his team in the Shutoku vs Rakuzan game, and realizes what they have came to mean to him is very dear to me.

Not just the character development itself, but the stark contrast it paints between him and Akashi too. Akashi and Midorima have a dynamic that really interests me (and I have a few love triangle fics with these two stored). They were amongst the closest friendship pairs in the GOM, had similar enoug backgrounds and lead the Teiko team together as Captain and Vice Captain. Yet their philosophies couldn't be anymore different when it comes to teamwork, even during their Teiko days. Let's not forget, Midorima was the only one out of the GOM who never wanted to participate in things like quotas and betting and after Akashi's personality switch, he was the only GOM who never skipped out and continued training hard. Midorima always thought winning was important, but he believed in neither high pressure, or slacking. Then, after joining Shutoku and being defeated by Kuroko, he basically is the GOM to follow directly into Kuroko and Kagami's footsteps by finding his own 'shadow' in Takao. Meanwhile, Akashi would toss his teammates aside, would put them under high pressure yet allowed them to slack simultaneously. It feels like such an epic showdown of the differences between them as players and the friends they once were. Midorima was defeated, but he stood up to Akashi and made his point. Not a lot of people would have had the balls to do that.

12, Is there any historical event you'd like to witness?

As a history buff, there are plenty I'd like to witness! One high on my list would be the Revolt of the Batavi. I mentioned growing up on the Dutch countryside as a child, and it was actually the province where the revolt took place so it's a very important historical event to our region. (short summary, the Batavi were a Germanic tribe the Roman Empire had basically overtaken in their quest to conquer North Europe. The Batavi had a revolution against them, it failed but the Batavi had birthed an ideology that said, 'if all of our tribes were to stand together we could defeat the Romans'. And sure enough, this was the starting point of the downfall of the Roman Empire as the other tribes had listened to the Batavi). 33, What's the most recurring theme in your dreams? YA worthy plots surrounding other worlds. I often have dreams surrounding cities I've been, but there are entirely different buildings, streets, etc yet my dreams are consistent as if there's really an alternate universe out there were there's a huge theme park behind the central station of Berlin.

Another very frequent thing that happens in my dreams is the end of the world, where I get eaten by a monster or alien at some point. Sometimes, I even dream to the point where everything has been destroyed, I am dead and the world is beginning anew. Like Ragnarok from Norse Mythology.

Just last night, I had another weird ass dream that involved a magical world with pink trees. I suppose my sub-conscious is really invested in world building LMAO

[advnterccs-archive]

❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?

🍦 — favorite ice cream flavor(s)?

🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests?

🎁 — what have you accomplished in the rpc that you’re proud of?

munday asks! || accepting

{ OOC } 1. Damn, my best qualities? Well, I guess I'm very thoughtful(?), I care a lot about those I'm closest to, I'm a real good listener (so i've been told), and I guess I'm a very strong person with a clear-head who tends to always find the best solutions for those who are in need of help.

But that's all I can say xD 'cause I'm blanking

2. Well, for ice cream, I gotta go with the traditional flavors of Vanilla (and any version of Vanilla, including Vanilla Bean and French Vanilla~) but also the more unique flavors, I gotta say cookie dough and birthday cake! They're so good and I usually get it whenever I'm at the store (especially if it's Ben and Jerry's or the other one that has a German name that I can't spell because my brain is mush today xD)

3. If I'm not writing I usually play video games. Currently I'm playing Two Point Hospital (which is somehow a game i play every once a year and around this time too ? it's a coincidence but a fun one tho xD) and also the Sims 4. I also like singing and dancing, but not in like the casual way. I've been dancing since i was 8 and usually I like either coming up with my own choreography or learning other choreographies for songs. I think I have like 5 choreographies learnt because it takes a lot of time and practice for me and usually i can't find the time xD

4. This is a tricky question because I don't think I've accomplished much? Like I'm grateful that I've managed to build a little community of crossovers 'cause the Rick and Morty fandom isn't that big. So I'm always happy whenever other fandoms decide to adopt my Rick and Morty.

And I'm very proud of the fact that my Roleplay Resources blog has gotten a lot of attention too, I've never seen that many notifications and I'm always amazed xD

[valwentinefics]

🖤🖤Can I request possessive Zemo x f reader smut please and they're best friends until zemo notices she's teaching Bucky chess and masturbates to him? but really she beat Zemo at his own game and orchestrated it to fw him so he would shoot his shot

A/N: Thank you for the request, I love writing possessive smut omg. I’m feeling pretty good about this smut, I think I’m starting to get the hang of it even though I gotta start making them longer! Also German nicknames? MWAH, perfect, amazing, spectacular.

Checkmate - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, possessive behavior, what reader does could be considered manipulation, Dom! Zemo Sub! Reader

Translations: Liebling (darling) Du gehörst mir jetzt, mein süßes Mädchen, ganz mir (You are mine now, my sweet girl, all mine)

Word count: 1567

Y/n wasn’t the most confident girl. Sure, she could fight and shoot a gun as good as her other criminal friends, but when it came to shooting her shot with a guy she froze. Especially when that guy was the perfect man in her eyes. Smart, caring, skilled, Baron Helmut Zemo was everything Y/n wanted in a man, especially when it came to looks. However they had been at the friendship stage for years, and Zemo hadn’t made a move. Y/n knew if she wanted to have a chance with him, she would have to take a page from his book.

“And then you move your knight there,” Y/n smiled softly at Bucky as he moved the chess piece to the spot she had pointed at on the board. The warm sunlight drifted through the windows and settled on the two, painting them with a golden hue.

“So I say checkmate now?” Asked Bucky, looking at the pieces. Y/n had to admit he looked amazing as he gazed at the board, a few strands of hair out of place and falling into his face as his icy blue orbs studied the board, his muscles straining the white muscle shirt he had on. 

“Yes James, you say checkmate now.” Y/n giggled at his cluelessness, earning a slight smile from the usually stoic man. Y/n and Bucky had become surprisingly close during their time together, despite her being Zemo’s closest thing to a best friend.

A door opening interrupted the two from looking into each other's eyes, Zemo stepped into the room, a scowl appearing on his face as he noticed the two while heading to the kitchen to make tea. It took everything within Y/n to not stare at the man, to not imagine his hands sliding down her waist, his lips kissing at her neck. She inhaled sharply and turned her attention back to Bucky.

“So what should we play next?” Y/n asked as she looked at the attractive man in front of her, licking her lips as she leaned in to grab a chess piece closer to Bucky, her cleavage fully on display.

“Y/n!” Zemo called, harshly placing down his tea pot. “I need you to carry some things for me.” Bucky looked as if he was going to offer some help, but Y/n placed her hand on his, letting him know silently that she could do it herself.

-

Y/n wished she had accepted Bucky's help. Her whole body felt sore as she entered her room, muscles aching from lifting heavy boxes. She laid down on her bed, naked from the bath she had just come out of. Sinking into the plush mattress she closed her eyes, only to find that sleep wasn’t coming for her after a few minutes of laying down. With a groan Y/n sat up, leaning against the abundant pillows on her bed, when her most genius idea came to mind. Bucky and Sam’s rooms were across the house, so no one but Zemo whose room was right beside hers would hear what she had in store.

Y/n slipped off her panties, rubbing her clit as she began to grow wet, thinking of Zemo as she grew hornier. Imagining his hands grabbing at her chest and ass as he kissed down her stomach to her dripping pussy.  She stuck two fingers in and curled them, letting out a small moan but loud enough for the man in the next room to hear. 

“Oh yes Bucky!”

The reaction was almost instant, her door that she purposely left unlocked swung open to reveal Zemo, seething with rage. His face softened when he realized it was just Y/n in the room, dressed in nothing but an old shirt of his that he let her borrow. 

“What were you doing?” Asked the man as he approached with slow careful steps, looking intimidating in a sexy way, even in his robe.

“Nothing Helmut,” replied Y/n, looking up at him innocently. 

His hand grabbed Y/n’s jaw gently, his thumb softly stroking her bottom lip. “Are you sure liebling? Because I thought I heard you moaning another man’s name. Perhaps I was mistaken. Or, you are hiding something from me.” 

Y/n recognized the look of dominance and need in his eyes, one she had seen in many men before him, none of which could even begin to compare to Zemo. Instead of replying Y/n sucked on his thumb, wishing it was his cock inside her mouth instead. Hesitantly Zemo pulled his thumb out of her mouth, giving her a small pat on the cheek.

“I asked you a question, it’s rude not to respond.” He said sternly, his tone making Y/n melt.

“I was touching myself, I moaned James’ name…” Y/n looked away from the man as she felt herself compelled to confess, only for his hand to turn her head back to face him.

“Oh liebling, if you needed a man to fulfill your needs you should have come to me, but unfortunately you had to make things complicated.” Y/n squirmed under his heavy gaze, feeling the wetness pool between her thighs. She rubbed them together to try to get any bit of relief but it was unsuccessful. Zemo let out a small chuckle, his finger running up her thigh to her folds, threatening to push into her wet cunt. “But don’t worry liebling, I’ll make this better. I’ll show you who you belong to.”

His hands swiftly undid his robe before he climbed on top of y/n. His hands slid to the hem of the shirt she wore, pulling it off quickly before attacking her left breast with kisses, his hand kneading the other one with restrained roughness. Y/n moaned at the sensation, her hands grabbing at his hair, pushing his face further into her chest.

Zemo pulled away for a moment before kissing down her chest and stomach slowly, sucking and biting on the unmarked skin to claim it as his own, the spots were bound to turn to hickies by the morning. During this his hand wandered down to her clit, his fingers rubbing the bud of flesh, eliciting whimpering moans from Y/n. All she could think about was his cock and how much she needed all his inches in her. 

Zemo seemed to catch on, leaving one last hickey on her skin before pulling his face away and moving his hand to grasp Y/n’s hip, holding her as he lined up his cock with her entrance, pushing in with a deep, swift, thrust of his hips. Y/n let out a drawn out moan, Zemo lifting up her legs to sit atop his shoulders as he began to slowly thrust in and out. Y/n grew impatient, wishing to be fucked into the mattress. 

“Patience liebling, your body is mine, I’ll do what I want with it at whatever pace I want,” He said sternly as he quickly shoved his cock deep into Y/n’s hole before continuing his torturously slow pace.

“Helmut please please please, I need you to go faster, I need you to ruin me,” Y/n begged, whimpering for a faster pace.A mischievous glint shone in Zemo’s eyes as he readjusted her legs on his shoulders.

“Be careful what you wish for liebling,” he  smirked before roughly shoving himself into Y/n’s tight hole, eliciting a loud moan from her. One hand held Y/n down by her chest as he pounded into her relentlessly, the other rubbed her clit, filling Y/n with inexplicable pleasure, her body would be writhing around if not for Zemo’s strong hand holding her still. 

“Oh, Zemo, fuck!” Y/n moaned, drooling a bit from the pleasure he was bringing her. With her body constantly being pounded into the mattress it was a wonder she was able to get out those words through her unending string of moans.

“You like that huh? You like my cock filling up your holes, stretching out your tight little cunt? Could James make you feel like this?” He growled to Y/n whose whimpering moans filled the room. “You’re mine liebling, all mine. My perfect girl.”

Y/n felt a knot in her lower stomach tighten, knowing her orgasm was near. “Hel-Helmut-” She could hardly get his name out through her moans as she felt herself be fucked into the bed below her, only able to think of how good Zemo was pounding into her.

“Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock liebling.” He commanded, Y/n obeying soon after, letting out a loud moan as she felt her orgasm wash over her, leaving her panting tiredly on the bed as she felt her entire body buzz with pleasure. Zemo pulled out soon after, spilling his warm thick cum onto Y/n’s stomach before wiping it up with an old towel she had discarded in the hamper near the bed. 

Zemo laid beside Y/n, pulling her body into his, being careful to be gentle after how hard he had fucked her. His finger traced the hickeys she had covering her chest and stomach, his warm breath tickling her ear as he muttered into it. 

“Du gehörst mir jetzt, mein süßes Mädchen, ganz mir.”

[wowbright]

Fic: Curb Your Enthusiasm

Tan Hands and Tan Lines Sophisticated Word Challenge 2021: quixotic

Words: ~ 1350 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Kurt’s new companion needs to stop flirting with investigators.

I’m belatedly going through the prompts for The Tan Hands and Tan Lines Summer Event 2021 to flesh out my Mormon!Klaine universe. This one takes place in the first week of their mission, directly after Flirting with Danger.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: ‘Süsse’ means ‘sweetie.’ If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

-------

Other than their conversation with Harmonie and Dolcezza, their afternoon on campus was uneventful. Only two students had been interested in taking the religion survey, and they both turned out to be atheists. The likelihood of anyone showing up to their English group seemed slim. They’d given out a lot of flyers, but Kurt noticed almost as many in the recycling bins as they left campus.

Maybe Harmonie and Dolcezza would show up—they’d ended up touching on some important points despite the flirting.

Yes, Dolcezza continued commenting on Elder Anderson’s looks and his handsome brown eyes and asking him if he was sure he didn’t have relatives from southern Italy, and when he said the closest his ancestry brought him to Italy was Portugal, Dolcezza granted that Portuguese had an even more romantic cadence than Italian.

Even worse, Elder Anderson encouraged all this with his batting eyelashes, his aw shucks facial expressions, and his ridiculous statement that it was hard to imagine any language sounding more romantic than Italian.

But Kurt had managed to wedge in a bit about the plan of salvation during the pauses in Elder Anderson’s flirting with Dolcezza. Harmonie, apparently also sick of the flirting, hooked onto what Kurt offered and asked probing questions. But Kurt hadn’t been able to get either girl to commit to coming to the English group, and they had refused the number of the sister missionaries when Kurt offered it.

“I’ll tell you what,” Dolcezza had said. “If Elder Anderson promises to learn some Portuguese from me, I’ll learn some English from you.”

“That would be fun!” Elder Anderson grinned like a kid who had just been offered to the entire contents of a Toys "R" Us store. Why hadn’t Elder Thompson warned Kurt that his new companion was such an incorrigible flirt?

“Unfortunately, we have to focus on our German,” Kurt said. “But that’s a kind offer.”

“What's the harm in learning a little Portuguese?” Elder Anderson asked later as they made their way from campus to a nearby neighborhood to fill up the rest of the afternoon with tracting.

“Don’t play dumb, elder.”

Elder Anderson looked genuinely offended. “I'm not playing dumb. I honestly don't get it. Elder Thompson and I used to trade lessons all the time. If someone only wanted to hear our message if we'd hear about their church or their weird mystical yoga group, then we'd listen. If the only way to get Dolcezza to our English group is to study a little Portuguese, then why not? When she gets to our group, she might show an interest in the gospel.”

“You really can't see why that would be a problem?”

Elder Anderson, looking full-on bewildered, shook his head.

“Huh. That blinded by her hotness, huh?”

Elder Anderson stopped in his tracks. “Her what?”

“I may be gay, Elder Anderson, but I can still tell a pretty girl when I see one. And both of them were pretty. I mean, I thought Harmonie was prettier, but I guess I just prefer darker coloring and eyebrows that are heavy enough to make a statement—” Kurt realized as he was saying this how attractively dark and expressive Elder Anderson’s eyebrows were, furrowing like two fat caterpillars above his bewildered eyes—ugh, that really should not be attractive—and stopped pursuing that tack. “I’m just saying, ‘If you don't look once, you're not a man. If you look twice, you're not a missionary.’”

“Wow,” Elder Anderson said quietly, his eyes going wide. “I can't believe you just said that. That saying is so homophobic.”

“No, it doesn’t. I haven’t had a single issue with untoward thoughts about women since I came on my mission, and I’m still a man.”

This straight kid thought he could tell Kurt what was homophobic? Uh-uh. It didn't matter how oddly kind and accepting Kurt's new companion was, or that Kurt strongly suspected Elder Anderson truly was less homophobic than Kurt himself. Elder Anderson didn't have to deal with the day to day struggle of having feelings that he couldn't act on. The discrepancy between what Kurt was allowed to feel and what we he was allowed to do made him resent those feelings sometimes. But that wasn't Kurt's fault. It wasn't a character flaw. It didn't make Elder Anderson better than him.

"It's not homophobic when I'm saying it to you," Kurt said. "You're straight. It applies.”

“No, it doesn’t. I haven’t had a single issue with untoward thoughts about women since I came on my mission, and I’m still a man.”

Hmmm. Such things were supposed to be possible, and even promised. Kurt’s priesthood quorum leader had told him that, if he did his work and focused on God, he wouldn’t have a single gay thought on his mission, ha. But Kurt had never actually met a male missionary who claimed to experience such tranquility. “Well, if you weren't having untoward thoughts, why were you flirting with her so hard?”

“Flirting?” Elder Anderson’s eyebrows rose so high, Kurt almost expected them fly off his forehead like dainty brown birds.

Oh boy. Was Elder Anderson really that oblivious? “You didn’t catch the part where she said Portuguese is the sexiest language in the world?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Or the part where she complimented your eyes and asked you to call her ‘Süsse’ instead of Dolcezza? Surely you know ‘Süsse’ is a pet name.”

“Yeah, but … it’s also a literal translation of ‘Dolcezza.’ She was just being polite. In case we had trouble with pronouncing her name in Italian.”

“No, Elder Anderson. She was flirting with you. She wanted you to speak Portuguese because she thinks it sounds sexy. Like she thinks you’re sexy.”

Elder Anderson wrinkled his nose. He looked almost … disgusted? “No. I’m not— That was just— Oh.” His cheeks flushed like ripe peaches. He scratched the back of his neck. He looked down at the ground. “I thought …” He traced an invisible line on the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe. “I did think they were both being a little flirty at first, but then the conversation moved to more neutral topics and I thought … I thought we were just having a friendly conversation?”

Kurt replayed the interaction in his mind. Elder Anderson had shown enthusiasm, but he was always enthusiastic, wasn't he? This was a man who got excited about rain. Who let out a pornographic moan the first time he tried a Bavarian pretzel with butter and said it was the best thing he’s ever tasted—until the next day, when he tried a Schneeball pastry and said that was the best thing. Who, after his first sacrament meeting in Ingolstadt, described virtually every single person he'd met there as his “favorite,” “the best,” “delightful,” or “such a wonderful soul” without the faintest hint of irony or flattery.

Elder Anderson hadn’t stood too close to Dolcezza, or tried to touch her, or complimented her looks or wit or hat. He’d just been … kind.

If Elder Anderson’s kindness was a form of flirtation, then he had flirted way more with Kurt than with Dolcezza. And obviously, he’d never flirted with Kurt. So—

“You were having a friendly conversation, apparently. Dolcezza would like to be more than friends.” Kurt thought about adding that if maybe Elder Anderson could rein his enthusiasm in when talking to investigators, they might not flirt with him so readily.

But that seemed like a quixotic request. Elder Anderson couldn’t stop being Elder Anderson any more than Kurt could stop being Kurt. And why should he? He was lovely, just as he was. It wouldn’t be right to hide his light under a bushel.

“That’s so … embarrassing,” Elder Anderson said. As if he might be able to escape the embarrassment, he resumed walking.

“Embarrassing? That she likes you? That must happen a lot, though.”

Elder Anderson pouted. “I don’t know. I've never been too good at reading girls. Or—young women, in this case.” He took a few more paces forward, Kurt tagging along beside him. “It still weirds me out sometimes that they think of me that way. But I guess some good could come of it. Maybe even without me learning Portuguese, she'll decide to show up to the English group, anyway.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to recruit people with our good looks.”

“You think I have good looks?”

Kurt changed the subject. “There are a couple of inactive members in this neighborhood. The friendly kind, not the hide-behind-the-couch-when-you-knock kind. You want to try them first? Introduce you as the new missionary?”

Elder Anderson clasped his hands together. “You know I love meeting members. Tell me all about them!”

Kurt smiled. Elder Anderson had faults, no doubt, but his enthusiasm wasn’t one of them. It might just be his greatest virtue.

[motownfiction]

i trust you

Usually, Eddie hates it when other people try to gift him with new music. Half the time, it’s stuff he already knows; the other half of the time, it’s stuff he already hates. He always accepts it with a smile on his face, of course. He doesn’t want to seem like a snob. But damn, if he can’t help it. You write enough about the history of music; you develop a healthy sense of snobbery.

“Not pretentiousness,” he explains to Sam as they roam the wide aisles at their favorite record store. “Pretentiousness would mean I was faking, and I am not faking. I don’t even know if I’m capable.”

“Oh, I know you’re not capable,” Sam says. “And you know, you don’t have to tell me what pretentiousness means.”

“Sorry. That would be the snobbery.”

“It’s like that. Always needs the last word.”

Eddie laughs a little. He takes a step back and watches Sam almost waltz down the aisle. They’re in the used rock ‘n’ roll section, which feels both funny and apropos. The manager on duty is playing the R.E.M. record from earlier this year (That’s me in the corner …), but Sam, for reasons perhaps he doesn’t even understand, is humming “Still the One.” Eddie laughs again when he notices. Leave it to Sam to hum a soft rock song from fifteen years ago. Like it makes perfect sense. Like everybody should be doing it. He always has the strangest selections stuck in his head. And God, he’s beautiful for it.

Before Sam, Eddie wasn’t sure he could really be in love. Attracted, fine. Infatuated, possibly. He thinks back to his adolescent infatuation with a guitar-playing boy at Holy Cross who had Rob Lowe eyelashes. That was the closest he thought he could ever get to being in love, L-U-V! Thought he was too busy, too nerdy, too smart to have time for anybody. But then, there was Sam. Out of nowhere. Beautiful and out of nowhere. Smarter than Eddie in so many ways (too many ways, sometimes). Impossible to stop talking to. Impossible to stop staring at. In the right light (or darkness), impossible to stop kissing. Sometimes he could smack his old man across the face for being on the outs with Linda for so long. Maybe then he would have met Daniel’s friend Sam sooner. Maybe then he could have known more about love.

Sam turns around and points his finger at Eddie like he’s Harrison Ford in Witness.

“I’m gonna make you a mixtape,” he says.

Eddie chuckles.

“You are?” he asks. “What am I, fifteen? And a girl?”

“Don’t disparage mixtapes. Or fifteen-year-olds. Or girls. All are welcome.”

“If you made me a mixtape, what would you put on it?”

“I would never tell you. That’s the point of the mixtape. The surprise of it all. That you don’t know until it’s in your hands.”

“But you know it’s all gonna be music I already know. We checked out our record collections. With the exception of my Moby Grape and your weird 45 of some German guy narrating Rumplestiltskin, we had almost 100% overlap.”

Sam shakes his head like he’s been sitting on this for a while. Knowing Sam, he probably has. He has all these theories based on clever anecdotes and questions he writes down in the margins of his books. It would kill him to hear it, but Eddie knows he’d make a damn fine doctoral student.

“It’s not the point of the mixtape to introduce the listener to something new,” Sam says. “It’s the point of the mixtape for the listener to know what songs make the mixtaper think of them.”

“Are you trying to convince me that mixtaper is a word?”

“I’m trying to convince you it should be.”

Eddie laughs again. Sam’s too good at that. Even when he wants to buckle down and be serious, there’s just something about him. It’s like if Peter Pan spent every other year in London, or if Tinkerbell was in a better mood all the time. He’s beautiful for it.

“I’m serious,” Sam says, almost digging his shoes into the floor. “I’m gonna make you a mixtape. As soon as I get home. And you’re gonna like it.”

Eddie smiles. If he thought he could get away with kissing Sam in the middle of a music store on a Saturday afternoon, he would. Instead, he makes a note to do it as soon as they get back into the car. He looks at him and lets his smile grow into a grin.

“I trust you,” he says.

It’s incredible, Eddie thinks, to know it’s the truth.

[liquid-luck-00]

Pets

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 17: Pets

Ao3 ~~~ First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

Just got to shout out  @thebookwormfairy because i love your Captian the Retired Police Dog Au and pet_foolery of Pixie and Brutus who were an inspiration for this

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was looking everywhere for Titus and Ace to take them for a walk. Unfortunately for him he couldn't find either of them anywhere. He checked the kitchen, the cave, the living rooms, his room and they weren't there.

As he was passing Mari's room and her sewing room, he heard her sewing machine stop.

"Hey Qamri have you seen" he started as he walked in and he saw them "Titus and Ace" he finished in a huff crossing his arms still holding the the leads.

"They've been here all morning" she gave a small laugh as she secured a new bandana on Ace.

"They always are" he grumbled. "You need your own pet"

As soon as he said it a huge smile was on his face as well as his sister's. Once they made eye contact they raced out of the sewing room Ace and Titus close on their heels.

They ran through the manor looking for their father. They stopped at his study but he wasn't there. They turned around bumping into Drake but none of them said anything. They passed through the gym but to no avail and as they rushed through Todd seemed to eye them.

They went trough the living room but no one was there. So they went down to the cave, where they found him.

"Father/Dad" they called out at the same time.

He turned around from the monitor.

"Yes Wh.." he was cut off by Todd.

"What the hell is going on" Todd yelled "You two tore through the manor and Demon spawn is smiling so this can't be good."

"Wait what is going on" Grayson asked from next to their father.

"I would like to know that as well" Father finally answered.

"Can I get a pet?" Mari asked "I'll be responsible I swear. I already take one of the Kwamii. Please" as she then unleashed her puppy eyes.

"Please Father" he asked as well.

"Of course, only another pet could get that Demon to smile" they heard Todd grumble.

"At least he's asking" Drake seemed to responded.

"Fine" Father relented with a sigh. "But only one and Mari gets to pick them out"

As soon as he said that they heard Jason leave the cave grumbling.

"Yes" Mari cheered running up to father giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before they both ran out of the cave.

He and Mari got to the garage where they saw Jason.

"I'm driving" he responded "I don't trust that Demon here to not come back with just one" he finished as Mari got in the car.

The drive to the shelter was mostly filled with suggestions and debate between what pet she would choose. As well as mumbled grumbles from Jason

Whether it would be dog or a cat. A cat to be a friend with Alfred or a dog of her own.

She also thought of possibly a bird or hamster. Both were rejected on the premise of Alfred.

Then she thought of maybe a rabbit. At this point she just seemed to quiet down and was lost in thought.

As the three exited the car and made their way in Jason's grumbles continued "Maybe it'll be a bunny, their quiet, with floppy ears" Damian just had to chuckle of that.

---

Stepping into the shelter she couldn't believe how many animals were there. She knew that she wanted to find every one of them a home. But she also remembered that Dad said only one pet.

"Do you guys mind if I walk the kennels alone?"

"Go for it" Jason replied almost immediately.

"But "Damian started but Jay-Jay pulled him away before he could argue.

The puppies and kittens were the closest to the entrance. She crouched down and they excitedly went up to her before playing with one another again.

She continued down until the end of the hall way she turned around and that was when she saw him. The name on the information sheet was Sentinel. He was a German Shepard which may have been why he was isolated.

He was curled up on the bed in his kennel, his head down watching her.

She didn't know why but she sat down in the hallway.

"Hi there" she spoke softly smiling. "I'm Marinette" he perked up and seemed to study her before standing up and walking over to the gate.

At this they watched one another before he sat down. She reached towards him and offered to have him smell her hand.

He sniffed her and licked her hand as well.

"How did you do that" she heard a voice behind her. She turned to see her brothers and an employee who was the one who spoke.

"Do what?" she asked for clarification.

"Sentinel here wouldn't let anyone near him and here he is licking your hand."

"Oh" she could only answer.

"Why wouldn't he let anyone near him?' Jason asked worried.

"He was a military dog who lost his handler"

"Why didn't he get a new handler then?" Mari asked.

"We think they tried but he didn't respond to them well. So he was placed here"

She looked back at the dog in-front of her. He seemed sweet and quiet, but also fiercely loyal.

"Do you want to come home with us?" she asked placing her hand just inside the gate. He looked over at Damian and Jason and seemed to size them up.

After which he nudged her hand with his nose and licked her again. Now having her attention he stood up wagging his tail and gave a short bark.

"I believe that means yes" Damian almost seemed to laugh.

The employee went to take him for grooming while we went to fill out the adoption papers. Sentinel looked over at her, to which she nodded, and he left without a hassle. Much to the relief of the employee it seemed.

Afterwards they went to the pet store to get him a few chew toys, collar, lead, and a dog bed. After that they went to the vet to get him chipped and to double check his vaccinations before heading home.

Once at the Manor he seemed to get along well with both Titus and Ace. Alfred, the cat, gave him a lazy glance before returning to a nap. But the entire time he didn't leave her side.

He took a quick liking to Dick and Damian, Dick she's pretty sure it's cause she laughed at something he did. And Damian because he respected Sentinel’s space and possibly a bit of bribery.

He seemed neutral with everyone else.

Except when anyone seems to need or loose something, which he finds faster than you could even ask.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@mochinek0 @justafanwarrior @abrx2002 @ranger-gothamite @fantasiame @moonystars14 @mochegato @bigbeautifulandfullofsugar @maribat-is-lifeblood @iglowinggemma28 @miraculous-ninja @talutah0 @vixen-uchiha @danielslilangel @witchsblackfox @pawsitivelymiraculous @lizziejay @marinettepotterandplagg @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @dast218 @sassakitty @miyla-lokidottir @lilkymilky @tazanna-blythe @tired-butterfly @lozzybowe @smolplantmum @queencommonsense @loopingtangent @chez-pezeater @paintedhope7 @technicallyburninggarden @meme991001 @wannajointhecrabcult @melicmusicmagic @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @fidget-eep @miraculouslydumb @iamablinkmarvelarmy @laurcad123 @hauntedwintersweets @fc-studios @fusser90 @madking-warqueen @buginetye @little-lady-bird @thebooki3h @iamabrownfox @galla02006 @syrencall @gimpedmercy

[orionares]

BTHB: Handcuffed

Psych

@badthingshappenbingo

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the name of the father, my Colt 1911 and the universal hatred of hippies, I will not strangle Spencer with these cuffs….

"Psst...Lassie?"

We will get rescued and then he'll go back to San Francisco with O'Hara….

"Lassito? Can you scratch my back?"

And I will get a reward from the Mayor for self-control…

"Laaaaaasssie, please? Can't reach it- Hey! Do you ever use your cane as a back scratcher?"

"SPENCER!" Lassiter hisses loud enough for the bearded well, hippie guarding the arid decrepit living room to hear. The Police Chief scowls at the blank eyes of the guard and waits for the man to turn back to whatever the hell he'd been doing.

What fresh hell is this- he had told O'Hara that a fishing trip alone with Shawn wasn't going to end well. But then Marlowe had joined with O'Hara's puppy dog eyes and-

"What?" Shawn replies with the irritating casualness one isn't supposed to have while handcuffed back to back.

And also after being kidnapped.

Lassiter lowers his voice down to a loud whisper, "What did I tell you?"

"When Ron and his friends took us from the boat?"

Of course Spencer would figure out their captors name.

"How in God's name do you know that..man's name?" Lassiter asks, already prepared for the idiotic performance sure to follow. In the briefest of moments, Lassiter's heart lifts at the delay in response from Shawn and the beautiful possibility of a semi-mature response.

"'Cause I'm psychic."

Idiot.

Ron lumbers over from his near hour long guard at the door and sneers heavily, "You two needa shut up."

"Kidnapping a Police Chief and a civilian-"

"Psychic," Shawn interrupts because, of course.

Lassiter rolls his eyes and continues glaring at Ron. "Is making things worse. And a hippie like you, destroying this-"

Shawn wiggles in his spot and somehow manages not to irritate Lassiter's injured arm. He dramatically tsks and states," Look, Ron, my good man, as we had tried to tell you while we were on our boat before you swooped in and took us, we are just two men doing manly fishing ...manly...ly."

Lassiter sighs and quickly weighs the pros and cons of persuading Ron to duct tape Shawn's mouth shut. No, they were two men , forced by a pregnant detective and her puppy eyes to "bond".

"Wai, you's kinda young to be a puh-lees chief," Ron says, cocking his head to the right like a German Shepard. Normally, Carlton Lassiter would tear into Ron head to toe for well, everything, but it's the man's current attention that leaves Lassiter well, speechless.

Attention directed solely on Shawn.

Shawn chuckles, not even attempting to stifle down his delight at Ron's comment. "As much as I am delighted at the compliment, alas, I am not the Police Chief in this dynamic duo. No, I am Shawn Spencer, Master and commander of Psychfransico in beautiful San Francisco. This silver haired fox is my idol and Police Chief of Santa Barbara, Carlton Lassiter. "

Ron naively scoffs at Lassiter and chuckles, "You 'ain't a Police Chief. You look like his Daddy."

The squeal of delight from Spencer- is it possible to double the mortification he's already drowning in?

"Stooop," Shawn replies with giddy shyness. "I'd shake your hand , good man, if I could. Speaking of hands, I know you and your merry man of kidnappers-"

"Ya'll went on our land and we can't have that," Ron counters.

Lassiter blinks out of his daze of mortification and snorts at the happy conversing between Ron and Shawn.

How cute.

"Can you two stop sharing your feelings and get back to the fact that you and your little pals kidnapped a Police Chief-"

"And psychic!"

"Spencer, I swear to God-"

"What? Accuracy is important!"

"STOP!!" Ron bellows before staggering back to the counter. The over dramatic fall is one of the many reasons he had taken Lilly to a small gathering of hippies banging drums and reviewed in great details the detrimental behaviors of tree huggers.

A great activity for a four year old, despite Marlowe's eye roll.

"Are you really a Police Chief?" Ron blubbers. Lassiter groans and opens his mouth for another smarmy comment. Unfortunately, the motormouth champion of the West Coast beats him to it.

"He is. One of the best in the west. Just like I am and my psychic skill. Just how I predict that you make that right move and let me and the man who sleeps with two pistols in his bedside go."

It's three- one in the dresser, one under the pillow and one in the ejection slot on the bed frame, Lassiter thinks before the non- irritable side of him sparks a thoughtful observation.

Has Spencer been giving me compliments this whole time?

Ron opens his mouth and gawks momentarily at Lassiter before clumsily turning and lumbering out the door. Shawn sighs louder than necessary and then comments, "He seems nice."

"Do you two want a room to braid each other's hair," Lassiter growls with increasing volume," AND MAKE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS?"

"Gus and I did that last week," Shawn replies calmly," the friendship bracelets, I mean." He leans towards the wall, humming softly, before pressing a small sharp object against Lassiter's wrist. "I was going to just cut us free instead."

Lassiter Scrunches his nose and imagines his Lilly and his Marlowe smiling back at him and how he'd miss them dearly if he would be arrested for strangling Spencer. "You had a sharp object this entire time?"

"No. I found it but didn't want to use it with our main man Ron in the room,” Shawn states. Lassiter can feel Shawn’s hands fidgeting with the handcuffs. The Police Chief lets out a frustrated humph as Shawn continues to work before the glorious sound of a click from the handcuffs.

“Lassie, can I ask you a question?”

"No."

"No, seriously."

He'd bang his head against the wall if he could. Lassiter inhales and exhales slowly, knowing full well that Spencer could and would keep this game up if he wanted to. "Fine," he says slowly, "What?"

"How do you be a good father?"

Oh.

Oh.

The pain in the ass, the bane of his existence, the-

The handcuffs click and the cold metal around Lassiter's wrist drop to the ground. "Hold on," Shawn mutters as he continues to fidget with his own cuffs until they also drop to the ground. Shawn turns around and repeats his earlier question, "So yeah, how do you be a good father?"

Turning on the floor to face Shawn would take an awkward, frustrating set of movements so Lassiter stays back to back with Shawn. "Is that why you asked me to go fishing?"

Shawn grunts as he rolls onto his hands and then pushes himself up onto his knees. He shrugs and admits, “Me and my dad aren’t- well, we butt heads. With Jules being eight months pregnant, she figured out that I wanted to talk to you but-”

“Spencer, “ Lassiter hisses, softening his expression at the look in Shawn’s eyes. Is that puppy eyes? “How about this? We get out of here, I shoot some hippies and then I’ll give you six minutes.. and forty five seconds to ask me questions about fatherhood.”

Just as his daughter, Shawn perks up and grins as if just being told about a trip to the ice cream store. He stands and helps lift Lassiter to his feet. “There are six doors- two on the left and four on the right. We went down two flights of stairs with eight steps on each,” Shawn rambles, “and….when we were blindfolded in the back of the jeep, we took three left turns and a right turn from the boat.”

In normal times, especially back in the days when Shawn and Gus were causing chaos in Santa Barbara, Carlton Lassiter would scowl and walk away from the idiotic smile on Shawn’s face with Juliet on his heels. Right now, as he’s aggravated for being kidnapped, hungry and really wishing Marlowe hadn’t talked him into taking one pistol with him instead of his usual three, there is a small part of him that he will never outwardly admit that is a bit impressed and proud of Spencer.

A very, very small part of him. A minute size part of him.

“Ready?” Shawn asks as he pulls Lassiter’s uninjured arm over his shoulder for support.

Lassiter nods, thinking- Ready.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Escaping comes way too easy.

Lassiter isn’t the least surprised to find only two of the six men that had surrounded them on the boat sitting in the room at the top of the stairs. He really isn’t surprised when Shawn manages to sow doubt in Ron’s mind long enough to give Lassiter the chance to grab the closest item and whip it across the room and clock the second man in the back of the head.

After calling for assistance, arresting Ron and his unconscious friend and threatening the two arriving SBPD officers with hell if they even think about saying a word, Lassiter stands in front of a police vehicle, watching Shawn talk animatedly to Juliet O’Hara on the phone. The same small part of him that was impressed by Shawn triggers a faint smile on the Police Chief’s face.

“I’ll be home soon. Yep…..tell Gus that he can breathe…..I love you too….kiss the belly for me. Ok, bye!” Shawn exclaims happily. He pockets his phone and tries to calmly cross the lot to Lassiter. Lassiter can feel the excited energy bouncing off the younger man as he asks quietly, “So…..how can I be a good father to my little girl? Like you are?”

Good lord. Lassiter sighs and replies, “You’ll be fine, Spencer, but ask any question you want.”

“For six minutes and forty five seconds?”

He’ll regret this dearly. “I will open it up to ten minutes-” he holds up a hand as Shawn’s eyes widen with excitement, “-don’t make me regret this.”

[thebookwormfairy]

Captain the Retired Police and His Puppies Part 3

Sorry for not updating this story in a bit, I got distracted. I'll be starting a permit tag list for all my Daminette stories so if you would like to be add, just let me know! On with the story

Masterlist

It had been a couple of day since Tom and Sabine left back to Paris

Ace was still Captain's number one priority

So when his girl told him she was making a quick run to the fabric store for a comission for Fang's human he was a bit worried but stayed behind

He did ask that Titus try to go with her

Titus agreed and ran up to Marinette as she was about to leave

Marinette was having a day to herself

Apparently there was a big emergency at Wayne Enterprise and everybody had to go handle it

If course this was totally fine

And Marinette told them as much

She just planned to work on Jagged's comission

But she ran out of fabric and had to go get more

Marinette tried to get Alfred but couldn't find him

Figuring he went grocery shopping Marinette sent a quick text to Damian letting him know she was going to leave for 1 hour tops

As Marinette was heading to the taxi after checking in on Captain and Ace, she was about to head out when Titus came trotting up to her with his leash in his mouth

Marinette: What is it Titus?

Titus nudge Marinette's leg with the leash still in his mouth

Marinette: Would you like to come with me?

Titus gave an enthusiastic bark

Marinette giggling: Okay. It should be fine. We're just popping into a shop real quick.

Marinette put on Titus' leash and sent another quick text to Damian letting him know she was taking Titus with her

The taxi driver took them to the closest fabric store and dropped them off at the corner

The girl and dog was walking by an alley when they heard talking from inside

A woman's voice with a Brooklyn accent: Is that the girl who was able to take down Eddie.

Another woman's voice: Yeah she's dating Wayne's youngest too.

Marinette watched as Harly Quinn and Posion Ivy stepped out of the alley

Marinette took a step back a Titus stood in front of his human's mate

Harley: Aren't you the cutest? Isnt she the cutest Ivy?

Ivy: Yeah but what are you doing out here? It's not safe right now

Marinette gathering her courage: I was just going to buy some fabric

Ivy: Well you need to get off the street now. Joker is doing one of his big plans right now

Marinette: Oh I'll just leave then.

Harley: No why don't you come with us?

Marinette: Umm

Harley wrapped her arm around Marinette ignoring the dirty look Titus was giving her and started to drag Marinette to her and Ivy's apartment a couple of blocks away

Ivy following along: You sure it's a good idea to kidnap Bruce's youngest kid's girlfriend?

Harley: It's not kidnapping, it's forced temporary adoption.

Marinette remained quiet as the two older women dragged her to a secondary location (a/n: STREET SMARTS)

Marinette could sense that these two didn't mean her any harm

And if worst comes to worst she could transform

Titus followed along keeping close to Marinette ready to protect her if anything went wrong

The group made it back to the apartment on one piece

Marinette was able to see parts of the emergency Harley eas talking about

Some streets they passed were completely destroyed

Marinette wondered if she could use her Miraculous Cure to undo the damage

She'll have to ask Tikki about it later

As Marinette entered the Villians' apartment she spotted a young boy about her age sitting on their couch petting two Hyenas

Harely: Hey Edwin, we're home and we brought a temporary guest

Ivy: Don't say it like that. Edwin this is Marinette we found her close to the situation and brought her here until she can be picked up. Marinette this is Edwin-

Edwin: Edwin, but people also call me Puzzler. I believe you've met my father, the Riddler

Marinette blushing: Oh yeah, sorry about what happened at the club

Edwin grabs Marinette's hand and kisses her knuckles: Please do not apologize for such a brilliant show of cleverness. Father was never meant to go after you, rather your loud mouth classmate. Such a soft look but such a fire within, you are quite the paradox.

Titus growled at this strange biy showing too much affection to his boy's mate

Edwin laughing: Oh and is this your little dog? I thought you had a German Sheperd

Marinette: Oh no this is Ti....How did you know I have a German Sheperd?

Edwin taking a step towards Marinette: After watching your brilliance I had to know more about you so I did some research

Marinette taking a step back: Then you'll also know that this is Titus my BOYFRIEND'S dog

Edwin waving off the mention of Damian: yes yes

Ivy: Make yourself comfortable Marinette, you'll be here for a bit

Marinette sat down on a chair away from the two hyenas and the flirty teenage boy

Marinette gesturing to the hyenas: So what are their names?

Harley sitting between the two animals: Oh I'm so glad you asked. This is Lou and Bud. Their my little babies!

Harley continued to baby talk the twon hyenas as Ivy turned back to Marinette

Ivy: So Marinette you're obviously here to visit the Waynes, how are you liking your time in Gotham

Marinette: Oh it's great! Originally Damian was suppose to come visit me this summer and I was going to come back for winter break, but with Ace pregnant and my dog, Captain's the father, we decided to switch so Captain and I could be her for the birth

Harley: Ace is pregnant!! Oh you'll have to call us when she gives birth!

Marinette laughing: Sure

Marinette and Titus spent 3 hours in that apartment with Ivy, Harley, and Edwin laughing and talking. She surprisingly felt safer with them then she did her old classmates

Marinette was having so much fun she didn't realize her phone had died

But Harley let Marinette know that she sent a message to the Waynes letting them know where Marinette was as soon as they got to the apartment

That did not help the Waynes though

They finally defeated Joker after 5 hours of fighting

Damian was ready to go back to the Manor and cuddle Marinette

So imagine his distress when he couldn't find the girl anywhere in the Manor and checking his phone showed that she left somewhere with Titus 3 hours before

He worry grew when he found a worried Captain pacing in Damian's room, waiting for his girl's return

Damian ran down to the cave where is family minus Bruce who had to deal with some messages were still debriefing

Damian panic: Alfred do you know where Marinette is?

Alfred: I believe she's in her room working on a comission

Damian: She's not! She sent me a text three hours ago saying she and Titus were going to get more fabric, but there's nothing else from her since!

Jason: What?!?! What if she got caught up in the attack?

Tim taking over the computer: I'll seeif I can track her phone to find where she is

After a minute of Typing Tim came up with nothing

Damian: We got to go back out there and find her! There's no telling what type of danger she could be in!

Jason: I'm with Demon Spawn let's go!

Bruce entering the cave: Everybody calm down, I got a message from Harley. She and Ivy found Marinette close to the action and took her back to their apartment. She's completely safe and their not even asking for ransom to get her back we just have to go pick her and Titus up

Damian: Then what are we waiting for?! Let's go get Angel!

Tim: Hold up Damian we need to change out of out costumes first

Damian: You guys do that I'm grabbing the car! And going there by myself!

Bruce: Damian calm down! Marinette's safe, atleast let me get change and go with you just to be safe okay?

Damian groaning in frustration: Fine but hurry up father

They were able to get Marinette back with no problems, but Edwin calling her Paradox in a flirty way As he said goodbye to her

Harley: I'll definitely be contacting you about that outfit you drew, I must have it!

Marinette giggling: Will do Harley!

That night Damian and Captain refused to let Marinette put of their sight to afraid that she'll disappear again

Though Marinette was able to talk to Tikki and she just might be able to help Gotham and fix the damage that has been done, but as Marinette laid cuddled up to Damian with Captain laying on top of her she planned to go out tomorrow night and she what she could do

And maybe find out the truth to where her boyfriend and his family disappeared to at night

@felicityroth @northernbluetongue @mystery-5-5 @sidefrienda @tbehartoo @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @sonif50 @t-nikki10 @dawnwave16 @nach0

[cuddly-dean-baby]

The Winchesters’ Zombie Apocalypse

With a scavenge gone wrong, Dean has to do something he never thought he’d have to do.

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader x Sam Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader (you), Bobby Winchester (child), Garth, Dixon (dog - German Shepherd), Ellen (mentioned), Jo (mentioned), Jack (mentioned) Genre (smut, fluff, angst): Fluff, angst AU: Zombie Apocalypse Words: 2,050

This awesome idea was made by @negans-lucille-tblr  This is my entry for @spnsecretsantaficexchange​ ​  For my Secret Santa person, I have gotten @snapplejaxs​​ I hope you like it

Storming into the cabin, you angrily peel off your bloodied flannel to throw it against the backrest of a seat at the dining table. “Fucking idiots! I told you not to follow me into the store! I fucking had it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Dean. I’m gonna go take a shower, then I’m gonna go out for a walk.” 

Doing as you said, you walk past your husbands and into your shared bedroom to grab a pair of clean clothes and into the bathroom. Your German Shepherd, Dixon, had followed you into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“I feel like one of us should go with her on her walk, just to keep an eye on her.”

“She has Dixon, Sam.”

Nothing is said, silence filling the air except for the faint noise of the shower.

Footsteps are then made on the porch. Small, fast ones coming towards the door before it swings open to show a little boy. “Hey, Bobby,” greeted Sam as he bent down and picked up the four year old. “Papa.”

“Where’s Daddy?” Bobby points at Dean next to them, making the eldest Winchester smile and bump his nose against their son’s. One of his small, chubby hands rests against Dean’s stubbly cheek.

With the three not noticing, you’re leaning against the door frame and smiling at the scenery, wishing that you could snap a picture of them. “Hey, Garth,” your voice had given the Winchester brothers a fright, their eyes on you before looking at your best friend.

“Hey, guys. Thought I’d drop off a little someone.” He points at your son, who’s reaching out to you. “Thank you, Garth.” You take Bobby into your arms from Sam’s.

“Better get back to Bess and the kids, see you later.”

Saying goodbye to him, you turn back ‘round to your husbands. “I’m gonna go take a walk, wanna come? Obviously we’ll leave Bobby here, see if Ellen and Jo can look after him.” You nuzzle your nose against your son’s cheek before blowing a raspberry against it, making him squeal and flail his arms around, his hands now cupping your face.

“Hi, baby.” He starts to rub his nose against yours before stuffing his face against your neck. 

Both my babies, Dean had thought to himself, smiling at his wife and son.

Walking through an abandoned town, Dixon by your side, the brothers are trailing behind you. Dean has been kicking a can since you have entered the town. Then Dixon gets into an attack position, having you three raise your guns.

“Split up.”

“What?” Sam and Dean ask in unison.

“Do it.”

Groans and moans fill the air, rotted bodies shuffled into view. “(Y/N)!” Dean tries to go after you, but Sam grabs his arm to pull him back. They watch you run in front of the herd. It got closer with gunshots going off, the idea of the herd getting you makes Sam scared.

“Come on.” Dean pulls at his arm to have them walk into a store to hide.

Feeling his chest tighten and his breathing quicken, Sam tries to calm himself down. Sometimes Dean was able to help him through his panic attacks, taking longer than you, but you were the one that was able to stop them and comfort and calm the youngest Winchester.

“D-Dean,” he managed to breathe out. Dean is immediately in front of him, reassuring him that you’re gonna be fine. “I-I can’t b-breathe.”

Dean instructs him to try and slow his breathing. “She’s out there on her own and for all we know she could be dead as it seems like she used all her bullets,” Sam started to ramble and continued to do it before he got cut off by his older brother’s arms wrapping around him and bringing him in for a hug.

“She’ll be okay.”

Hours have passed to have the sky darkened and the brothers had gone to the spot where you had fired your gun. Small dots of blood trailed off in front of them with a piece of your shirt ripped on the ground.

“We gotta go back home.”

Bobby is seated in Sam’s lap, head on his chest and Sam’s arms wrapped around the small body of his son. “Where’s Mama and Dixon?” He looks up at Sam, one eye green and the other hazel.

“Mama and Dixon are still out, they’ll be here soon.” Sam answers, hoping that it’s true and that soon enough, you’ll be home.

Barking towards the cabin, Bobby is the first to swing the door open and run across the porch, down the steps and towards where he heard the barks. His fathers are right behind him.

Bobby starts to pet Dixon, Sam standing with them. Dean had stopped in front of them, trying to find you.

Luckily, no one really had thought much of the barking as they were kinda used to it. But if it was constant and no one was able to stop them, then that’s a sign for something dangerous.

Dean had finally spotted you limping towards the four, himself running to you and bringing your blood-stained body against his, himself not caring about the crimson liquid staining his clothes.

“Mama!” Bobby runs towards you, Sam fast-walking to you to do the same thing Dean had done.

“We were so fucking worried, we were about to have a search party for you, sweetie,” Sam leans his forehead against yours.

“You had a panic attack,” is the first thing you said, despite what Sam just said. “Dean calmed me down.”

Once back inside the cabin, you’re in the bathroom. You’re now staring at your naked form in the mirror, your eyes looking back and forth at the bite on shoulder and one on your hip.

Whines and scratches fill the air. You open the door a bit to let the dog in and shut the door behind him before you settle yourself on the toilet lid. “How am I going to tell them, boy?” You chuckle out sadly, trying to lighten up the moment. Dixon rests his chin on your leg, his brown eyes giving you a soft look. “You look after that little boy, you hear me?” You rub one of his ears between your fingers.

“Time for bed, Mama,” Bobby knocks at the door. “Let’s go, Mama.” Dean’s voice repeats.

Getting changed after covering the wounds, you run your hand through your semi-dried hair and out of the bathroom you are.

Standing in the doorway of the lounge and hallway, your heart is beating faster a bit more and your hands are softly shaking.

“Are you okay, honey?” asks Dean, seeing that you’re nervous about something. “I got bit,” you blurted out. “Let me put Monkey to bed.” Sam picked Bobby up and down the hallway to his room.

“Please say something, baby,” you walk towards Dean. Tears started to prick his eyes, some slipping and dropping onto the floor.

“You’re looking so pale,” he chuckles out with a sob. Smiling and sighing out, your arms slither around his waist, his arms wrapped over your shoulders. Your head rests against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. “I want you to do it. I can’t do it myself, I’ll hesitate. Sam will have a panic attack if he does it, so please,” you look at him with tears brimmed in your eyes, “kill me.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, his eyes closed and tears gently flowing down his cheeks. “Go say goodbye to our baby,” he mumbled against your skin.

Doing so, you gently knock against Bobby’s door before opening it, seeing your other husband and your son sitting on his bed. You kneel in front of him, hands on each side of his legs. Sam intertwines his with your closest hand. 

“Mama is really sick. Daddy is going to take care of me.”

“Are you going to get better?”

Sniffing and wiping your nose with your free hand, you answer, “He’s going to have to kill me, baby. If he doesn’t, then I’m gonna get turned into one of those monsters.”

Bobby jumps into your arms, your body thumping against your butt. “Mama loves you, always.” You lean your cheek against the top of his head, tears flowing down your cheeks.

Small knocks grab your attention, making the three of you look at Dean. You stand up with Bobby clinging to your body.

“I’ve told Ellen, Jo and Jack. They’re gonna tell the people.”

Going out to the lounge, Bobby is still clinging to your body. Sam is trailing behind, tears welled up in his eyes.

Setting Bobby on the ground, his hands are gripped into your shirt. “Bobby,” your voice cracks. His hands loosened and letting go of the fabric, his arms now wrapped around your legs.

“You’re gonna be okay.” You cupped Sam’s face, his tears wetting your hands. He brings your body against his, his head resting against your non-injured shoulder. “Sam.” Feeling something wet against his skin and shirt, he looks to see blood dribbling down the side of your mouth and down your chin.

Pulling his sleeve down, he wipes it away, not caring about the crimson liquid staining it. He then tugs your shirt collar back to see the covered bite mark. Your veins have darkened within under the bandage, the ends of the darkened veins stopping underneath your jawline.

“I’m gonna do this now,” you say softly, Sam pressing a kiss to your forehead. You bend down to peel your son away from your leg to hand him over to Sam, but he quickly wrapped his arms around your neck. “Bobby,” your cracked voice comes out as a soft stern. Sam’s hands grab a hold of Bobby’s waist to have you unclasped his hands.

“Mama!” His small hands reach out to you. His head gets tucked away into Sam’s neck, his big hand covering the child’s head. With a last kiss on the lips of your tall husband and a kiss to your son’s head, you shuffle towards Dean.

“I hope you’re ready, pretty girl, ‘cause I’m not,” Dean chuckles out dryly. Cupping his stubbly cheeks, you give him a kiss on his lips. One of your hands then go down to his gun holster to pull the weapon out and make his fingers curl around the handle.

All four of you have tears flowing down your cheeks. Dixon whines and rubs his head against your leg.

Dean wraps his weapon-free arm around your middle, your head now resting against his shoulder. “I have letters for each of you in my backpack. Read them when I’m buried,” you mumble.

“O-Okay.” Dean manages to get out with a shaky voice. You bring his hand up to your head, the barrel of his gun pressed against your temple. “I’m ready now.”

With his hand now shaking and his finger on the trigger, he presses it harder to release a bullet into your head and body going limp against his body. Blood has scattered across the floor and some on his shoulder.

He falls to the ground to wrap both arms around your body to sob against your shoulder.

Bobby had been struggling against Sam’s hold and been scream-crying since the gunshot went off. “Bobby.” Sam shifts the small boy in his arms to hold him as if he’s holding a rugby ball, tucked in his arm. “No! I want Mama!” Bobby screams into Sam’s chest whilst pushing against it.

Sam sits at the bottom of your grave, playing with some of the dirt as Dean, Bobby and Dixon are running around, Dean chasing his baby boy. 

“Dean and I read your letters a few days after you died. We’re gonna have Bobby read his when he’s a little bit older. Can’t believe it’s already been two months without you.”

“Papa! Come play with us.” Bobby yells at him whilst running and bumping against Sam’s back. He starts to climb Sam like a jungle gym. “I gotta go. Say goodbye to Mama.” Sam stands up, taking one of Bobby’s small hands into his.

“Bye, Mama. I love you.” Bobby waves at your grave before him and Sam walk towards Dean, who has a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).” He mumbles to himself.

[erin-bo-berin]

A Day In The Life

MASTERLIST

This daddy Spencer fic came to be by the thought of me wanting even MORE daddy Spence, so I thought why not write something where it’s just a typical day in his life with his family/the kids/pets? Thus, this was born. Just a heads up, this entire fic is told completely in Spencer’s point of view, just to give the utmost feels, which you should definitely experience in this.

Thank you to @teamkiall for giving me permission to use her real life pupper Hopper in this; he was so fun to write. Thank you to her for some of the phrases I used in this. Also, thank you to everyone who helped me pick which bunny to use as inspiration of Duke for, including: @reidsstudies, @andiebeaword, @lightinthedarkuniverse, @one-sweet-gubler, @nanocoool, @multifandommandy and the anons who all offered their input. I appreciate you all, greatly!

Finally, for a little insight on some of the bunny things I wrote about. For those who don’t know or aren’t as familiar with bunny behavior, I’ve linked a few Instagram posts for y’all to refer to when reading. It really helps when reading if you know what they look like.

Bunny Binky (in slow-mo, usually a lot quicker)

Bunny Flop

Bunny Loaf

Now sit back, relax and enjoy all 10.2k words of daddy Spencer. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 10,283

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Spencer’s eyes opened to not only the bright morning sun, but to a wide awake, hyper, three year old little girl.

“Yes, baby?” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

His little girl Evie—born Evie Laine Reid—was currently jumping up and down on the bed at his feet. She flung herself on top of him and he over exaggerated his reaction, acting like she was the heaviest thing, making her giggle.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“It nawt eawly.”

One glance at the clock and he realized it was after 8:30 a.m. 

“Where’s your mommy?” Spencer asked, looking over at the empty space in bed where his wife, Y/N, usually occupied.

In her place though was their German Shepherd, Hopper. He laid his head next to Spencer’s hand and Spencer smiled, giving him some ear scratches. 

Hopper was a giant teddy bear. At only two years old, he’d had enough trauma in his own life that made Spencer want to adopt him even more than he initially had. The poor canine had been severely mistreated and starved to the point his ribs had been showing when Spencer first laid eyes on him. After telling Y/N about the dog, they both decided to make their home his forever home. Despite having been through such hardships, he was such a happy and loving dog. It’s one of the things that Spencer loved about him most.

Patches of brown and white made up his fur color, although he was mostly brown. His face was a majority brown, a few lighter brown patches surrounding his eyes and an almost gray hued spot just about his nose. His ears were almost bigger than his head and as comical as it was, it made him even cuter than he already was—if that was even possible. He also loved his stuffed ducky, he made sure to take it to bed with him every night.

“I no no. I just wake up,” Evie answered his earlier question.

Hopper woofed softly and nosed Evie making her laugh and hug his neck.

“I wonder where Duke is,” Spencer asked, scanning the room to see if he was on the bedroom floor somewhere.

“Pwobably in fwont of da fwidge waiting for bweakfast,” Evie giggled.

Duke was their sassy, gray, 2 pounds of complete fluff, Netherland Dwarf rabbit. Yes, he had a bunny too. Spencer had never thought about owning a bunny before, until he met Duke. 

He, too, was a rescue, like Hopper. After being abandoned in a park by his previous owner, he was rescued by a shelter who took amazing care of him until Spencer came along and fell in love with him. Now, he was a happy six year old bunny who looked incredibly grumpy on the outside but was actually a sweetheart. His favorite things—other than napping and eating—were hanging out on the back of the couch to “watch” TV with him and Y/N and flop next to them—or Hopper, who happened to be his best friend ever. He loved head pets, bananas and licking Spencer’s slippers. He was a cutie that you just couldn’t help but love.

One of his routine things was speeding to the kitchen every morning if he heard even the slightest indication that someone was up. He would sit in front of the fridge until someone fed him his daily breakfast of mixed leafy greens.

He had pellets twice a day, endless hay to munch on and treats every now and then, yet he acted like they never fed him. It was quite humorous.

Also, if you didn’t get him his breakfast in a timely fashion he made sure to let you know of his displeasure and thump. 

Spencer hadn’t known as much about bunnies when Duke first came home with them and about had heart failure the first time he heard Duke thump. Turns out, thumping was just a bunny quite literally thumping their back feet against the floor, something they did to show their displeasure or when they’re startled or frightened. Most of the time now though, it was just because he wasn’t being fed fast enough. 

Despite his demands, he was an essential part of Spencer’s family, just like Hopper was.

He took a quick glance at his phone to see if he had any missed messages and saw a text from Y/N letting him know that she’d gone to the store. He felt more at ease knowing she was just out running errands. It was always a treat to wake up next to Y/N every morning and he missed it when he wasn’t able to.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you some breakfast,” Spencer said getting out of bed, lifting Evie up in his arms.

His little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She was heavier to carry now a days and didn’t want to be carried as much anyways, so he always took advantage of all the times she let him.

He headed out of the bedroom with her, Hopper right behind him on his heels.

“What would you like to eat, baby?”

“Pincakes,” she said, causing him to laugh.

She still couldn’t say pancakes all that well and it came out sounding more like “pincakes”.

“Let’s go check on your brother and sister, okay? Unless mommy took them shopping with her.”

Spencer set Evie down in front of the nursery and she pushed the door open, running in. He tried to hurry and stop her in case they were still asleep, but they were already awake.

“MOWNIN BABIES!” Evie squealed happily.

Standing in their cribs, already wide awake were their ten month old twins, Aden James—Y/N’s name pick—and Isla Jade, his pick. The girls seemed to favor him more while Aden looked more like Y/N. All three had his curly, light brown hair and hazel eyes though.

“Good morning my sweet little babies,” Spencer cooed to them.

It wasn’t his first time being left with all three kids, five if you counted their fur children. 

Spencer had been a stay at home dad ever since the twins were six months old. He’d loved his job as a profiler in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—still did actually—but after fifteen years in the field he had gotten burned out and burned out badly.

He didn’t technically resign, per se, but with the advisal from Emily Prentiss, his teammate, friend and boss, he decided to take a year long sabbatical. It was a decision that he didn’t take lightly either. He put a lot of thought into it and took his time making the decision. At the end of the day, he missed his family and wanted to spend more time with them. 

Y/N was amazing and always understood his hectic, unreliable schedule and did a great job taking care of Evie, then the twins when they came along, while he was gone so much. But he knew it wasn’t fair to her or to their kids. He wanted to have the time to be with his family, be a good dad and be a good husband.

In the end, he knew work would always be there when he would be ready to return, a promise Emily had made him. For now though, he would often consult on cases his teammates were working on. At most, it only meant a few phone calls and some work time in his study, but never anything to take away from his relationship with his kids and Y/N. In fact, he was enjoying it much more than he ever thought he would.

It was nice, too. Y/N worked from home with a flexible job that allowed her to work whenever she could. As a mother of three, it was incredibly helpful. It also helped to have more family time, as well.

He’d become quite the super dad. Taking care of three kids three and under wasn’t easy by any means, but he’d had plenty of practice lately. He also had a newfound respect for Y/N, doing this all on her own. But for now, he knew he could handle the three of them while she was out grocery shopping.

“I bet you guys are hungry,” Spencer said, picking up Aden first as his crib was the closest to the door.

He picked up Isla in the other arm, trying to step around Hopper who was always people’s shadow. He rarely never followed a person somewhere and had to always know what was going on. With the kids and Hopper in tow, it looked like he had his own little tourist group.

Isla babbled, trying to reach down and touch Hopper’s head and he licked her hand happily. He and Duke both loved the kids as much as they loved them.

“Lead the way ladybug,” he told Evie, following her out of the nursery and down the stairs.

True to her prediction, Duke sat in front of the refrigerator door, as if waiting for the refrigerator god to open it up and sprinkle out some parsley and spinach leaves for him.

“Morning, Duke,” Spencer chuckled.

The tiny eared, grumpy faced bunny stared him from the place he sat, looking like he was judging him for sleeping in late. He most likely was.

“Just let me get the kiddos situated and I’ll feed you guys,” he told his furry friends.

Spencer sat Aden and Isla in their high chairs and sat Evie on her favorite stool at the counter. Hopper was the more patient of the two, so Spencer went to the fridge first. The second it opened, Duke started hopping around his feet in excitement, standing on hind legs to see if he could help himself to a breakfast buffet.

Combining a salad of spinach, romaine, parsley and cilantro, he sat the plate in front of an excited Duke and went about fetching Hopper’s food. It wasn’t even a full minute before he heard Duke chowing down on his breakfast, his munching quite audible.

Spencer filled Hopper’s bowl with his allotted amount of dog food and refilled his water bowl, giving him a pat on the back as he enjoyed his food.

Before starting the pancakes, he poured some puff cereal on each twins’ tray to let them eat while he cooked. To be twins, it was amazing to see how they differed—other than being fraternal twins. 

Aden loved the strawberry flavored puffs, which Isla hated. She much preferred the sweet potato or the banana ones. 

Aden was definitely more laid back and calm whereas his sister was loud and boisterous, something she definitely inherited from her older sister. On the other hand, Aden loved to be more independent and Isla loved just cuddling and staying close to him or Y/N.

“Daddy can I have chocowate chip pancakes?” Evie asked.

He had grabbed her a juice box from the fridge in the process of getting everyone, humans and animals alike, settled. She now sat, happily sipping on it.

“Is there anything better?” he grinned.

“Nope,” she shook her head emphatically.

He’d gotten the batter mixed up and was about to pour it on the sizzling griddle when he heard Evie calling him again.

“Mhm?” he answered, without looking.

“Isla twyin to put a puff in Aden’s ear.”

Spencer spun around just in time to see Aden pulling on Isla’s hair. Apparently he pulled hard enough to cause her to break into tears.

Things like this were just mild considering most days were even more hectic than this.

“Hey, hey. We don’t pull hair,” he scolded Aden, giving him a toy to play with.

He picked up a puff, putting it to Isla’s lips and she calmed down, eating it. They were still just grumpy from waking up and hungry, not actually upset.

“No putting puffs in your brother’s ear either, Isla,” he told her.

She grinned real big like she was proud of herself. He smiled. It was hard to be mad at any of these cute little faces.

Half an hour later after serving Isla and Aden their plain, torn into bite size pancakes, fixing Evie her chocolate chip pancake—with banana slices for a smile and chocolate chip eyes—and dealing with a ecstatic Duke who smelled the banana the instant Spencer unpeeled it, he had finally got to sit down with his own breakfast. He grabbed one more slice of banana, feeding it to Duke before stroking his head.

“That’s all you’re getting, little guy,” he chuckled.

He’d just taken a bite when the back door opened. Isla kicked her legs happily and Aden squealed as they spotted mommy first.

“Mommy!” Evie squealed, “Daddy made pancakes!”

Y/N walked in with her hands filled with grocery bags. Spencer shot up, immediately moving to help her.

“Hey baby,” he smiled, kissing her lips as he took most of the bags.

“Hey,” she smiled, setting down the bags she had left in her hands, “I thought I smelled pancakes before I walked in.”

“Chocowate chip too!” Evie piped in.

“Some of daddy’s best pancakes huh, Evie Bear?” Y/N smiled, kissing her cheek as she passed by her.

“Hey there, twinkies,” she said, calling the twins their popular nickname.

She smoothed a hand over each head of hair and kissed the top of both. Isla kept on happily eating and Aden handed her a bit of uneaten pancake which she took from him, eating.

“Thank you Aden,” she chuckled, “Good pancakes, Spence.”

“Want a plate?” he asked.

“Yes, but sit and eat. I’ll get them. You deserve a break for staying here with them,” she said, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take the rugrats with you,” he commented, taking another bite of his breakfast.

“I would’ve, but it’s so much easier to grocery shop when there aren’t three extra sets of hands reaching out of the shopping cart to grab everything.”

“Touché.”

It wasn’t easy shopping alone with three kids. He attempted it once and it was a disaster. Now, either Y/N went alone or they tackled it both together with the kids, as a team.

She fixed her plate and sat next to Spencer at the island, pulling Aden’s and Isla’s high chairs closer to her. Spencer pulled her into his side and kissed her head, just enjoying having her near him along with their kids.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Spencer asked.

“Well I do need to get a little work done and clean some and take care of our little circus troop here,” she chuckled, motioning to the kids.

As if to prove her point, Aden started screaming when he dropped his sippy cup. Without even missing a beat between bites, she leaned down and picked it up, handing it back to him.

“How about I keep them entertained and watch them so you can get some work done,” he offered.

“Spence, you don’t have to do that. Aren’t you needed for a conference call with the team later?” she asked.

“Yes, but I can easily pop on Netflix for the kids and just step into the kitchen. Easy as pie.”

“Whatever you say, super dad,” she smiled, “But thank you. I owe you.”

“I’ll add it to your tab,” he winked.

He could think of a few things he’d like to ask for.

•

After breakfast, his little tribe moved from the kitchen to the living room.

He set Evie up with some toys, a coloring book and colored pencils while he changed the diapers.

“Ew stinky!” Evie complained, putting a hand over her nose.

Spencer laughed, amused at his toddler. Of course, being through this twice—now with double the diapers—he was pretty used to the smell. He was pretty sure dirty diapers were worse than things he’d smelled as an FBI Agent though.

“I know, Princess, but unlike you they’re not big enough to use the potty, so me and mommy have to change their diapers.”

“Cause dey too tiny dey would fall in.”

She said it was such a straight face that it was hard for Spencer not to laugh. The minds of children always amazed him, how they put things together, how they understood things, how they saw things. It provided endless amusement, especially with Evie.

“That and they aren’t a big girl and boy like you’re a big girl.”

She smiled big before going back to coloring. Hopper laid curled up next to her. Duke, finished with his breakfast, was zooming around the room, binkying.

Aden and Isla giggled and babbled watching the hyper bunny as they tried to reach for him as they impatiently laid and wriggled while getting their diaper changed.

Eventually after tiring himself out, he flopped near Aden, who reached out to touch him.

“Be gentle,” Spencer cautioned.

It was something they’d been raising Evie to do, both with Duke and Hopper. Evie was getting better about it, but still could be a little rough. They made sure that Aden and Isla would be raised the same.

Spencer took hold of his son’s hand, helping him gently stroke Duke’s head. In return, Duke gave Aden’s hand a little kiss, licking it. 

Finally finished with diaper changes, he set them on the floor to play. They were crawling everywhere by this stage, staying active and wanting to be held less and less. It was bittersweet to Spencer because the period of infancy was so short lived. Although, secretly he hoped to have another kid or two, maybe a few more. Although that was a conversation with Y/N to save for another day.

In addition to crawling, they were in the pulling up stage. They’d figured out how to grab onto things and pull themselves up. They also liked to try and knock things off tables, like it was a game.

Which is what they were currently doing.

They stood side by side, holding onto the coffee table for balance and knocking off magazines.

“Guys, no no,” Spencer said, picking the magazines up and putting them out of their reach.

He knew better than to try and put them back on the coffee table. They’d knock them off repeatedly until they were bored of it, which wouldn’t be for quite a while.

They dropped to the floor, back to crawling around and getting into things they probably shouldn’t. Aden remained happy with one of his toys and chewed on it, while Isla babbled as she crawled.

“Da da da da.”

“That’s my name,” he chuckled, trying to tidy up the messy living room just a bit.

Living with three kids often meant toys scattered all over the place. He figured trying to straighten up would save Y/N from having to do too much of it later.

“Stop it! You wuining it!”

He looked over to see Isla pushing more of Evie’s crayons on the floor, giggling like she was proud of herself. Evie on the other hand, was furious and near tears.

“Iwa stop!” she shouted.

“Isla, come here baby.”

He picked up his youngest daughter, pouring out some blocks for her to play with and setting her in front of them. He turned back to Evie who was crying now.

“Daddy she WUIN it.”

“I know, I’m sorry sweetie, come here.”

He held out his arms and she fell into them, crying out of frustration and anger.

“Iwa meanie.”

“Baby girl,” he soothed, picking her up and setting her on his lap so she could face him, “She didn’t do it on purpose.”

Evie sniffled, but didn’t say anything.

“She and Aden are only babies, Evie bug. They still don’t completely realize that they’re doing something wrong or upsetting you, they think it’s a game. In her tiny mind she probably thought she was playing with you. Besides, I can help you pick up your crayons and put them back the way you want them. Alright?”

She nodded a bit.

“Are you still mad at Isla?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Good, I’m glad,” Spencer kissed her head, “You’re a wonderful big sister.”

“I am?”

Evie looked up into Spencer’s face, her tears now drying on her cheeks and excitement in her eyes.

“The best,” he emphasized, “How about since you’ve been such a great big sister lately, we bake some cupcakes when they take a nap later? And maybe we can play tea party if you’d like.”

Evie was now grinning big and nodded, clearly thrilled about the idea.

“There’s that pretty smile,” Spencer grinned, chucking her under the chin, “Will you go give your sissy a hug then?”

“Otay.”

She wiggled down out of Spencer’s lap and went over to Isla, who was tossing blocks around in an attempt to play with them. 

Evie put her arms around Isla’s tiny body and hugged her, kissing her cheek.

“Love you, Iwa.”

Spencer smiled, his heart warming at the scene.

“That’s my sweet girls.”

•

It was amazing. Spencer had turned his back for a second and he’d already lost track of one of his kids.

“Did you see where Aden went, Evie?” Spencer asked, after rushing back from the kitchen with no luck.

“Nope.”

She hadn’t even looked away from the tv, so he was certain she hadn’t seen where he’d gone. 

He couldn’t have gotten far, but it was truly incredible how fast these tots were when they were on the move.

“Aden? Where are you buddy?”

“Looking for this little duckling?”

Spencer whirled around, seeing Y/N walking in, Aden in her arms, chewing on the toy in his hands.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed, relieved, “Where was he?”

“He came crawling into your study,” she chuckled.

“I’m so sorry, babe. I swear I turned my back for a minute and he was gone.”

“Believe me I know; sneaky little things aren’t they? Don’t worry, I needed the baby break anyway.”

She tickled his cheek slightly making him grin.

“Have you gotten much work done?” Spencer asked, sitting down on the couch, pulling Y/N down with him.

“Yeah. I can finish up later anyway.”

“Daddy, can we bake now?” Evie asked with hopeful eyes.

“Baking?” Y/N raised a brow.

“I told her when the twins went down for a nap, me and her could make something special. Maybe we can even make it a surprise for you,” Spencer grinned secretively, “How about it Eves?”

“Yes!”

She was up and racing to the kitchen in a flash. Spencer had stood, ready to follow her.

“Don’t worry, I can take these two in the study with me until their nap time,” she chuckled, “Just don’t make a mess!” she called after him.

“Never.”

•

Okay, so, the kitchen was a bit of a mess.

“Daddy, I cwacked da egg!”

“You sure did. High five!”

Spencer held up his hand and her small one high fived him as she grinned big.

Evie had picked out a funfetti cake mix for her choice of cupcakes and was currently helping crack the eggs into the mix.

There was some dry cake mix spilled on the counter. Empty egg shells were scattered on it as well in the midst of the chaos of the cupcake ingredients, baking cups, electric mixer and pan.

“Okay, this is the last egg. Think you can crack it?”

“Yesh,” she nodded, taking the egg carefully, a serious look on her face.

She tapped it gently against the bowl and cracked it open like a pro. Spencer couldn’t be more proud.

It was moments like this that made him less sad about her no longer being a baby. At this age he and Y/N could do more things with her that they couldn’t when she was a baby, like this. It was always fun to include her in little tasks nowadays. It made him excited to be able to incorporate Aden and Isla when they got older.

“Now I’ll mix it up with the electric mixer. Stand back, okay?”

She nodded again, stepping a bit further away on her little stool, hands holding onto the edge of the counter as he mixed the cake batter together.

“You think that looks good enough?” he asked, letting her see into the bowl.

“Mhm.”

“Alright. Daddy’s going to pour them into the pan and then bake them.”

“Then we eat dem?”

“No, they have to cool and then we get to frost them.”

Her face fell, disappointed.

“But how about while they bake and cool we have a tea party? You can go set it up while I get these in the oven and I’ll be right there.”

“Alwight!”

She hopped off her stool and dashed out of the kitchen faster than the cartoon roadrunner, making him laugh. What a character she was.

Keeping to his word, he got the cupcakes in the oven and headed up to Evie’s room.

“Otay daddy, you wear dis.”

Evie handed him a silver toy tiara and a pink feather boa.

“You be my guest.”

“Sounds good,” he grinned, putting the items on and waiting for further instructions.

“Otay you can’t sit ‘til I say so.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She put out some of her toy, plastic food on the tea party plates and pretended to fix some tea.

“Tea sewved,” she grinned.

It was impossible for him to sit in the tiny chairs, so he sat on the floor next to the table. He picked up the tea cup, pinky out and all.

“May I drink?” he asked, politely.

“Yesh, you may,” she grinned, reaching her cup over to clink it with his.

He took a pretend sip and gave her a grin.

“Excellent tea, my dear.”

They continued playing for a while longer until she started getting sleepy. Spencer knew it was past her nap time.

He was laying her down in her bed when Y/N found him an hour later. Poor thing had been quite literally falling asleep in the middle of the tea party.

“Now that’s a nice look,” she giggled.

He looked at her, confused for a moment before he realized he still had the boa and tiara on. He grinned, pulling them off and laying them down in her room before pulling her door closed as he walked out.

“I took your cupcakes out of the oven half an hour ago,” she said.

“Dammit I forgot about them! Well that just ruined the surprise.”

“I’ll act surprised then when you present them to me,” she grinned, “I thought we could frost them while the kiddos are napping.”

“Twinkies are already down for their nap?” he asked.

“Yup. They wore themselves out crawling after Duke.”

“That poor bunny,” he chuckled.

“Hey it keeps him fit. I think Hopper was thrilled it wasn’t him for once.”

Once they were in the kitchen, Spencer wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him.

“Who knew the house could be so quiet?” he smirked, kissing her nose.

“It is a breath of fresh air,” she smiled.

“How about instead of frosting the cupcakes we frost something else?” he grinned, “I mean I already have my own knife.”

She burst out laughing, causing him to laugh as well.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Spence, you’re supposed to be a genius. I’m sure you can come up with a better euphemism for sex than that.”

“I was just rolling with it,” he grinned, pulling her close to kiss her temple, “How about it though?”

She sighed, sounding defeated.

“You know I’d love to, but I need to groom Duke after we finish these cupcakes. It’s shedding season, you know.”

She frowned, seemingly upset to let him down.

“It’s okay baby,” he smiled, hugging her, “Come on. We’ve got cupcakes to decorate.”

•

They were halfway through with the cupcakes when Spencer’s phone rang.

“Hey, Luke. What’s up?”

“Hey Reid, you busy?”

“Not really, just frosting Y/N’s cupcakes.”

There was a pause.

“Is that some sort of euphemism for sex? Cause I can call back later.”

Spencer couldn’t help it, he barked out a laugh. 

“No, I mean we’re just decorating some cupcakes.”

Y/N gave him a quizzical look and he gave her a lopsided grin, mentally reminding himself to share that with her later. She’d think it’s hilarious.

“Oh good cause we need your genius insight, Reid,” Luke said.

“Sure, one sec.”

He lowered the phone to his shoulder.

“The team needs me to consult on a current case, I’m sorry, do you mind?”

“Go,” she shooed him, “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he murmured, pecking her lips.

“Don’t I know it?” she smirked, turning back to the sugary explosion on the counter as he walked towards his study.

“Okay, what’s up?” Spencer asked, as he settled into the desk chair.

“Alright. So we have three murders in Seattle…”

•

By the time Spencer had finished bouncing around ideas with the team, it was after 1 pm. 

Walking into the kitchen, he saw all three kids had woken from their naps and was just finishing up their lunches of grilled cheese—bite sized grilled cheese pieces for Aden and Isla though.

Spencer stole one of Evie’s chips as he passed her.

“Hey! Dat nawt vewy nice!” she frowned.

His lips turned up in a smile as he apologized and kissed her head.

“How’d it go? Were you able to help any?” Y/N asked.

She held up a bite of grilled cheese to Aden’s mouth to get him to eat. He seemed to have more interest in playing with his food than actually eating it though.

“Help wiff what?” Evie asked, ever as curious as a typical toddler was.

“Daddy got a call from your aunties and uncles at the BAU. They needed his help with a case,” Y/N explained.

“And you didn’t let me talk to dem?” she pouted, “I miss auntie JJ and auntie Penewope. Auntie Emawee, Uncle Dave and evwyone else I can’t tink of.”

She had actually sat there and counted off all of the names on each finger, amusing Spencer to no end. He knew he was a bit biased, but she was the cutest.

“You were still napping, baby, I’m sorry,” he said, “Next time I’ll make sure you get to talk to them.”

That seemed to appease her and she went back to eating her lunch.

Oh the joys of being a child with no concerns in the world.

-

After lunch, Spencer took the kids outside and they were soon joined by Y/N, Hopper and Duke. It was such a beautiful day that they had to take advantage of it.

Duke was set up in a good sized space to run and explore, but with a collapsible fence around him, just to keep him safe and from running away. Y/N was still hesitant to take it away just yet, even though so far he did great at staying near them when outside. He loved it, nibbling on the grass and flopping in it. He clearly was living his best life.

Hopper just about sprinted out the door when Y/N let him out. He, too, loved the backyard. He had about worn paths in the grass because he loved his specific running routine. He barked happily as he sped around.

Evie immediately ran to their playground and started climbing the “rock wall” portion of it. Not surprising to Spencer though; from the moment she could stand she had climbed into and over stuff as a baby, practically always giving him and Y/N heart failure.

“You two want to go down the slide?” he asked, carrying the twins toward the play set.

Aden started fussing, reaching for Y/N.

“Ma ma! Ma ma!”

“I will take that as a no,” Spencer said, handing him over to Y/N.

“He’s been fussy since they woke up. I think he’s cutting another tooth,” she frowned.

“Aww, my poor little man. No wonder he doesn’t want to play.”

Spencer rubbed his back as Aden laid his head on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Growing teeth isn’t fun, is it buddy?”

Y/N smiled, cuddling him close.

“Go on and play with the girls, me and Aden will chill on the patio and cuddle.”

“So do you want to slide, Isla?”

She responded in baby talk, babbling away.

“Is that so? Tell me more.”

She continued to babble as he set her at the top of the slide, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back to keep her safe.

“I’d like to see you get on the slide, Spence!” Y/N called from the patio, laughing.

He shook his head.

“Never again!” he hollered back.

He once tried getting on the slide of this same play set with Evie in his lap, when she was younger. It was a disaster to the point that Y/N about had to call the fire department to get him unstuck...after she spent ten minutes laughing.

He’d learned his lesson from that.

Isla squealed as he slowly slid her down the slide. He picked her up, holding her in the air above him.

“You did it, baby!”

She squealed with laughter, grinning big. When he brought her back down, she held onto him trying to give him a kiss with her mouth wide open.

“Thank you; you’re extremely sweet, Isla,” Spencer cooed.

“Daddy, watch me!”

Spencer looked over and watched as Evie slide down the slide on her belly.

“Careful, Princess.”

“I am! Did you see me?”

“I did,” he said, “I’m impressed.”

She ran over to the swings next. The amount of energy this child had was outstanding. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d had this much energy.

“Push me pwease?”

“Okay, honey.”

He put Isla in the baby swing, which she happened to love and buckled her in, starting to swing her a bit as he pushed Evie.

The peals of laughter that met his ears filled his heart with joy. He watched the wind blowing his little girls’ curls as they both swung, happy as could be. 

His eyes panned out over the yard; Hopper still running around, Duke munching on some grass and his wife rocking his little boy on a rocking chair on the patio.

It was moments like this that he treasured the most.

•

They spent nearly all afternoon outside, although the twins and fur children had meandered inside after an hour or so both hot and worn out.

Spencer stayed outside though spending time with Evie. He always tried his hardest to make sure she knew how much he and Y/N loved her.

After the twins were born, life became more hectic and she entered a new permanent part of life where she’d have to share her parents. He made extra efforts in spending some time alone with her, Y/N did too, just so she wouldn’t feel left out or any less important than her younger siblings.

He spent time jumping on the trampoline with her, watching her do tricks. He then pushed her on the swing until his arms hurt, but it was totally worth it to see the glee on her face. 

They laid in the grass, listening to birds chirp and looked at clouds. She claimed to see one cloud in the shape of the doughnut and he pointed out one he thought looked like a penguin.

They were both hot and sweaty after staying outdoors for so long, so he turned on the sprinklers and let her run through them. Of course, Hopper ended up joining them, sprinting like he had springs attached to his paws as he jumped through the spraying water.

Spencer couldn’t resist joining in, chasing after Evie. The water felt cool and refreshing on flushed, hot and sweaty skin.

“I’m gonna catch you!” he teasingly called.

She squealed, trying to run faster through the water.

“No you nawt daddy!”

He reached down and picked her up, swinging her around. He wished he could keep his babies this small forever.

By the time they were tired of playing in the sprinklers, their clothes were soaked through.

“Mommy’s gonna kill me for letting you get so soaked,” he chuckled.

“No she nawt. She love you. When a mommy love a daddy dey hug. She just hug you.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Come on munchkin, I bet mommy is wondering what happened to us.”

He walked behind her as she sprinted into the house. He was surprised to see it was nearly 5 o’clock.

“You two must’ve had fun,” Y/N chuckled, eyeing their clothes.

“That we did. Where’s thing 1 and thing 2?”

She pointed to the pack and play in the corner of the kitchen where the two were happily playing with one another.

“Thought I’d stick them in there so I could keep an eye on them while I started their dinner,” she said.

“Let me go change Evie and get some dry clothes for myself and I can help,” he offered.

“I’ve got it covered. I’m making chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese for them since it will soon be bath and b-e-d time.”

He nodded understandingly. They’d been having trouble getting Evie to bed lately. She always wanted to play when it was time for bed, so they’d gotten a routine down. Dinner, bath, story time and cuddle and then time for lights out. So far, it had been working.

“Do me a favor and turn on the tv please? I promised Evie she could watch cartoons before dinner.”

“Sure thing,” Spencer agreed.

He gave her a side hug on his way past her and maybe a slap on the ass too.

“Spencer!” she shrieked, exasperated.

He just laughed, sending her a wink over his shoulder.

-

He settled in with Evie on the couch and the twins playing on the floor. He held Aden up, helping him practice walking as Evie watched cartoons.

“There ya go buddy! You guys will get this in no time.”

Spencer sat him back on his bottom and Aden turned around, fussing, trying to climb in his lap. Even in his lap, he started crying.

“Brudder too loud,” Evie frowned.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. He doesn’t feel good.”

Spencer rubbed his back, rocking him a bit, desperately trying to calm his son. He clung to Spencer’s shirt, crying at the top of his lungs, moving his face back and forth from the inability to get comfortable.

Spencer frowned, standing, bouncing him a bit. Y/N came into the living room a moment later, a small tube in her hand.

“He won’t stop crying, no matter what I’ve tried,” Spencer frowned, hurting for his own miserable child.

“I got some teething gel. Let me see your finger.”

He held his finger out and she squeezed some of the clear gel on his finger. Opening Aden’s mouth just enough, he rubbed it gently on the sensitive gums.

He went to pull his finger back but Aden kept a hold of it, gnawing on it.

“Good luck getting that finger back,” Y/N smirked, “I’ve had that happen way too many times.”

So that’s how he sat until Y/N had finished the kids’ dinner; next to Evie, Aden in his lap and his finger in Aden’s mouth. Luckily, Isla seemed occupied enough and didn’t feel the need to be clingy. It was like they’d switched personalities for the day.

“Evie, go wash your hands for dinner please,” Spencer told her.

She obeyed, heading off to her bathroom. In the last year, she’d really gotten to enjoy washing her hands. She thought of it as making her a big girl, which it did. She had a stool in front of her bathroom counter that she’d stand on, get some soap out of the fish decorated soap dispenser and wash her hands, proud to be able to do this big girl task now.

She came into the kitchen just as he was helping Y/N get the little ones into their high chairs.

“My hands all cwean!” she announced, holding them out as to prove her point.

“Good job, pumpkin,” Y/N said, giving her a kiss as she lifted her to set her on the island stool.

“What for dinna?” she asked, trying to peek at the fixed plates on the counter.

“Your favorite, chicken nuggets and mac and cheese,” Y/N smiled, setting her kid plate in front of her and a fork.

Evie’s eyes lit up and she immediately dug in.

“I snuck some broccoli in it for the twins,” she told Spencer, not worried if Evie heard.

They must have been blessed with an easy first child because Evie was always good with eating her vegetables and she loved when mommy fixed her veggie mac, as she called it. Y/N had tried multiple different vegetables in it from spinach to broccoli and even kale once, with positive results. Spencer was definitely impressed.

But where it was easy with Evie, it had been a bit more challenging with Aden and Isla. Aden was more open to trying new things, but didn’t seem to like as many veggies as Evie had at that age. Isla, on the other hand, flat out refused.

So Y/N had resorted to sneaking some veggies in with their food. Sometimes it was in their macaroni and cheese other times it was mixed in with sauces, easy things they could eat. It had been a struggle, but they seemed to finally start liking the flavor.

The sight of food caused a ruckus with the two as they babbled and shrieked, ready to eat. Y/N sat the small bowls in front of them, along with the cut up chicken nuggets spread on their tray. Hands immediately dug in the nuggets and they tried to feed themselves with their spoons. 

The twins eating was always an interesting time. One baby eating was messy enough; times that by two and it was even worse. Thankfully, bath time was after dinner.

Spencer had had his back turned as he fed Duke and Hopper their dinners and when he turned around he swore his two youngest were already covered in mac and cheese.

“Two seconds into dinner and they’re already covered in cheese sauce,” he shook his head, amazed.

“It’s your turn to do baths tonight too, big boy,” she chuckled, patting his chest as she walked by to put something in the dishwasher.

On her way back, he pulled her back to him, hugging her from behind. She didn’t complain though. He loved all the stolen hugs and kisses they shared even during the most chaotic of days.

He tipped her face up to his and kissed her gently, wishing he could convey just how much love and appreciation he felt for her in the simple, soft kiss. 

“Ew daddyyy,” Evie whined, covering her eyes, “I twyna eat!”

He pulled away from Y/N and they both laughed, both amused by their toddler’s outburst.

“Listen to her, she sounds like a teenager already,” Spencer said.

“Just wait ten more years when she actually is,” Y/N commented.

“Evie Bear, are you gonna be my little girl forever?” he asked.

She shot him a grin big enough to compete with his own toothy smile.

“Always.”

•

Bath time almost always followed dinner in the Reid household. 

Before the twins, it was easy just to bathe Evie and get her ready for bed. Now, it was three times the baths and three times the pajamas.

They tackled it as a team, though. They’d switch off between bath duty and pajama duty. Tonight, Spencer would bathe the kids while Y/N got pajamas ready, fixed the twins’ bedtime bottles and most likely tried to clean the kitchen in between.

He’d left Evie in his and Y/N’s bed to play on her kid iPad—way better than those actual iPads if you asked him—to keep her entertained while he gave Aden and Isla a bath. Their bedtime was obviously a little earlier than Evie’s so they were the logical first bath of the night.

All three of his children were fish. They loved water, so bath time was always a hit.

They both sat in the water, splashing and talking to one another in their own little baby language. They played with their toys: little bath alphabet and numbers, colorful boats, a rubber ducky, even little toy cups.

Spencer washed their hair as they played happily.

Aden baby talked, handing him a cup.

“Is this for me? Did you make me a drink?”

He pretended to drink it, handing the cup back to him.

“That was very good, little man.”

Aden smiled, reaching for another toy, putting it in his mouth to chew on. Spencer took the moment of stillness to carefully rinse the baby shampoo out of his hair. His baby soft curls hung in wet, wavy tendrils, similar to Spencer’s own hair when it was wet.

He repeated the same process with Isla as she was content to play with the boats, pushing them around in the soapy water.

“You two are like little ducks aren’t you? You could stay in here until you’re wrinkled and pruny and still wouldn’t get out,” he said.

They look up at him, serious looks on their faces.

“You wanna know a secret? You may be little ducks but you’re my baby ducks,” he smiled, leaning over to give each one of them kisses.

They were too busy playing to really care, but Spencer didn’t mind. One day, they wouldn’t want kisses all the time like they did now and he would cherish every second he could, of this part of his life.

The typical babbling ensued, including the normal da da’s.

“Da da da da,” one would start, encouraging the other to join in like it was a battle who could say it more.

“Daddy loves his babies,” Spencer smiled.

He finished rinsing the soap off their bodies, giving their faces one last wipe over with the washcloth—much to their dismay—and lifted them from the tub, laying them on the towel by his side.

He wrapped them tight in the towel, keeping them warm and carried them to Y/N to get ready for bed.

-

Bath time with a toddler was definitely a different experience than bath time with infants.

Evie was a little chatterbox. Something she got from him, undoubtedly. He always enjoyed when he had bath duty, it was special time with his little ducklings.

Evie had a few bath toys that were especially for her since they were a bit too old for the twins at this point. She loved her bath crayons and creating masterpieces on the bathtub walls. She also had a little toy that made bubbles. It was endearing to see her face light up when Spencer made the bubbles appear.

“Daddy, look at dis,” she pointed to her latest drawing.

“I see. What did you draw?”

“Dat Hopper,” she pointed to one blob of red.

“And dat Duke.”

Duke was a blue blob.

“I love it,” he chuckled, “I think they would too.”

“Can we pwactice da afabet?” she asked.

Evie’s bath time recently had become a sort of learning time to practice her letters and numbers. It had started with Spencer writing a letter or two on the side of the tub with her bath crayon and letting her name it. It had become so fun for her she ended up asking to do it more often now.

“Sure, sweetie.”

He took a green crayon and wrote the letter “A” on the wall in front of her.

“Do you know what this letter is?”

“A!”

Next to it, he wrote a “B”.

“B,” Evie said, confidently.

Another letter was written next to it.

“C.”

They did this throughout the whole alphabet, until the wall was covered with letters. She’d only stumbled on a few, but she was getting better all the time. The swell of pride he felt in his chest was never ending as he constantly discovered just how smart his babies were growing up to be.

“Let’s try something a bit different, okay?”

“Otay.”

He took a different color—red this time—and wrote her name. Using the crayon as a pointer, he pointed to the “E”.

“Do you know which letter this is?”

“Dats E!” 

“That’s right. What about this one?” he asked, moving the crayon to the next letter.

“Um,” she paused, taking a little longer on this one, “V.”

“Correct,” he smiled, “And this next one?”

“I.”

“And then we have this final one. I’m sure you know this by now,” he grinned.

“Dat E again!”

“Yes, that’s right! Do you know what that spells?”

“No,” she shook her head.

He didn’t expect her to, but it was all part of his little lesson.

“That is your name. E-v-i-e. Evie,” he smiled, “You just spelled your name.”

She smiled brightly, then looked like she was thinking about something.

“Daddy? Why I named Evie?”

“Well,” he said, returning to rinsing her long hair, “Your mommy wanted to name you Evangeline at first.”

Evie scrunched her nose up at that, making him snicker. She really did look just like him when she did that.

“I know, I didn’t like that name much either,” Spencer said, “But she really wanted to name her first daughter that because it was her grandmother’s name and she was really close to her before she passed away. I thought that was a sweet gesture to honor her in that way, so I tried to compromise with her.”

“What’s compwomise?” she asked.

“It’s where two people both get what they want by deciding on something that they both like. For example like your name. Mommy liked Evangeline and I didn’t. A common nickname for it is Evie and we both liked that name so we settled on that. We both chose a name we loved for you and mommy got to honor her grandma that way.”

“Oh,” she nodded, seemingly deep in thought, processing what he had just said, “I like Evie betta anyway.”

“So do I, my little Evie bear. Now come on, let’s get you out of this bath before mommy thinks you were washed down the drain.”

•

It was probably half an hour after their bedtime and all three kids were still awake, in their jammies on mommy and daddy’s bed. 

Spencer figured he’d let them stay up a little later so Y/N could finish her housework. Bedtime was also another team effort, at least when it came to Aden and Isla. It was hard to hold two babies with bottles—even though they could now hold their own bottles— and a book at the same time, even for the most experienced parents. So one of them would hold one twin, the other would have the other and read them both a bedtime story. It was a system that had been working well for them, so they stuck to it. 

Also, he kinda hoped the later bedtime would slip by Y/N’s attention unnoticed. No such luck, though.

Needless to say though, she was a bit exasperated to find them still up almost thirty minutes later than normal.

“Spencer Reid, I swear to God if my children don’t go to sleep, I won’t have sex with you until they move out of the house.”

Thankfully, Evie seemed too preoccupied with her iPad to notice Y/N’s statement. All they needed was her repeating that.

“Sorry, babe. I thought I’d let you catch up on your housework before we tucked them in.”

“You should’ve come get me, I didn’t even know it had gotten so late,” she said apologetically, “Besides they need their sleep so their brains can grow to be as big as yours.”

“Actually, the brain doesn’t grow. It stays the same size from the moment you’re born. As you learn, your brain makes new neuron connections.”

She chuckled, walking over to pick up Isla off the bed.

“You know what I meant, brainiac,” she teased, “I got their bottles in the nursery so if you can grab Aden and a book, we can get them to bed.”

He nodded, picking up Aden.

“You stay there and play on your iPad, okay baby girl?” Y/N said, “We’ll be back to tuck you in after we get the babies down.”

“Otay mommy.”

Spencer got situated in one of the two rocking chairs in the nursery, Y/N settling in beside him. Bottles were in the twins’ mouths and the twins were each nestled in a set of arms as Spencer opened the book of the night, Bedtime For Baby Star.

He was familiar with this story. His best friend JJ had given them a copy when he and Y/N first got pregnant with Evie. It was a story she’d read many times to her sons Michael and Henry. He and Y/N had read it many times to Evie—and still did—and now they read it to their twins. It was as if this adorable little story had been passed down through many bedtimes of many different kids.

“Once there was a baby star,” Spencer began, gently rocking in the chair.

“He lived up near the sun. And every night at bedtime, that baby star wanted to have some fun. He would shine and shine and fall and shoot and twinkle, oh, so bright.”

Isla cooed as she ate, eyes locked on Spencer and his voice. Aden looked around, but would turn his sight back to Spencer every little bit to make sure he was still there.

“And he said “Mommy, I’ll run away if you make me say good night.”,” Spencer read.

Isla’s feet shuffled back and forth against Y/N’s lap as she ate. Usually, they didn’t fall asleep during a nighttime story, but Spencer loved the routine of it and being able to have some bonding time, so it soon became a nightly thing for him and Y/N.

Aden pulled back from his bottle, taking a break from eating and looking around the room. Spencer glanced down to check on him before continuing reading, seeing Aden put the bottle back in his mouth on his own.

“And then his mommy kissed him on his sparkly nose and said, “No matter where you go, no matter where you are, no matter how big you grow, and even if you stray far, I’ll love you forever, ‘cause you’ll always be my baby star.” The end.”

Spencer closed the book quietly, setting it aside and dimming the lights. This, too, they had found worked best when getting the babies to sleep. They usually sat and rocked them in the dimmed nursery as they finished their bottles and fell asleep.

Looking down at Aden, he could tell that the little guy wasn’t far off from sleep.

As they both sat and rocked the babes quietly, he reached over with his spare hand to the rocking chair Y/N was in. He took her hand and held it in his the entire time until their two youngest were sound asleep.

•

“Why don’t you go order us some dinner and I’ll get Evie to sleep,” Spencer suggested after they’d tiptoed out of the nursery.

“It’s been a long day and I know you probably don’t feel like cooking a separate dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll go order us a pizza. The usual?” she asked.

“Pepperoni, yes please,” he grinned, kissing her cheek.

“Tell her night and an “I love you” from me,” she called as she headed down the stairs.

Evie was exactly where they’d left her earlier. She was still sitting against their pillows, playing her game.

“Come on rugrat,” he grinned, picking her up off the bed, “Let’s go choose a story to read.”

He carried her down the hall towards her room, setting her down once they were inside. He took her toy iPad and set it aside with her other toys as she kneeled in front of her book corner, deciding on a book.

“Find anything yet, Eves?”

“Yesh,” she pulled one out, walking back to her bed and climbing onto it then holding out the book for him to see.

“Five Little Bunnies?” he asked, taking it when she nodded.

“No,” she took it back, “I read to you daddy.”

He smiled, pulling her into his lap.

“You gonna read to me tonight then?”

“Yesh,” she nodded, her drying, loose curls shaking with her movement.

She opened the book to the first page.

“Once upon time dere five widdle bunnies.”

She turned the page and continued.

“Da fiwst widdle bunny liked to hop and play outside.”

Spencer’s brows raised, surprised that she wasn’t actually making something up, but quoting the book. He knew she wasn’t actually reading, but it still pleased him enough to know that she’d memorized the book to be able to read it to him. He held her close, resting his chin on her head as she continued “reading” to him.

“Da fifth widdle bunny didn’t want to be weft out of all da fun and hopped off to join all his fwends. De end.”

She closed the book, craning her neck to see Spencer.

“You nawt asleep are you daddy?”

“No baby,” he chuckled, picking her up and setting her against her pillows.

“Did you remember the entire story so you could read it to me?” he asked.

She slid under the covers and he pulled them up over her as she nodded excitedly.

“Did you wike it?” 

The hopeful excitement in her eyes just about melted his heart. He had loved kids for as long as he could remember, but there was nothing sweeter than your own children.

“I loved it.”

He handed her the stuffed animal koala—named Pookie—that she always slept with and she cuddled him in her arms. Spencer smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, making sure the covers were high enough so she wouldn’t get too chilly.

“Next time though, it’s my turn to read to you,” he laughed.

“Otay,” she smiled.

“Mommy says goodnight and she loves you,” Spencer said, turning on her nightlight for her, “Goodnight Evie, I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy.”

As Spencer turned off the lights, the last thing he saw was Evie turn on her side and close her eyes, heading quickly into a peaceful slumber.

•

“I’ve never been so happy to see food. Or the couch,” Spencer said, flopping onto the couch, a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand.

Hopper was curled up on the couch, his head partially laying on Spencer’s leg, fast asleep. Duke loafed next to Y/N’s legs, relaxing, himself. They acted so tired, they made it seem like they had been the ones doing the parenting all day.

“Duke I hardly recognize you after your grooming,” Spencer chuckled, reaching over her lap to run his free hand over the soft fur.

“I swear he lost half a pound in fur alone,” Y/N commented.

It was just past 8 pm and the two of them finally were able to sit down to rest and eat their dinner. 

“I tried one of your cupcakes,” Y/N said after finishing her final piece of pizza, “They’re great.”

“Oh really? When did you do that?”

“Around lunch. It technically was my lunch.”

“Our rugrats sure keep us on the move, don’t they?” Spencer grinned.

“And to think you want more,” Y/N half groaned.

“I do,” he said seriously, “But not right now. One day. When they’re a little older.”

“Good because right now I’m too tired to even think about sex.”

“You and me both,” Spencer sighed, wrapping his arm around her. 

“How do parents manage to do this and have a sex life?” she mumbled causing him to snort.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they take it one day at a time. Besides, I have plenty of time to show you just how much I love and appreciate you in that way, when we aren’t so tired.”

There was obviously more to their marriage than just the sexual part of it. Just making time for each other like this, even when it was at the end of the day, was more than enough. They were a team. They’d do marriage, parenthood and life together. It was all he needed right now.

Some day, they would find a balance. But right now, life was still hectic and intimacy wasn’t always guaranteed. One great thing though was that intimacy came in all forms.

This time right now, was an example. It was a private, cozy and relaxing atmosphere for just the two of them to spend some time together. 

“I’ll be there,” she smiled, laying her head against his chest.

“So will I.”

Spencer was tired, but he was also extremely happy,

They turned on the tv for a little while, not paying much attention to the show that was on since they both could hardly keep their eyes open. They dozed like that for a little while, arms wrapped around one another. 

They knew one twin or the other would likely wake up at least a time or two during the night, but right now even catching a few winks was better than none.

They’d make it to bed eventually, where they’d fall into a deep sleep next to one another, preparing for a new day when they’d do this all over again.

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