#I’m going fuckin’ nuts and have a drawing in the works for this

[golden-buddle]

Here I am- making an entire AU for the Movie just so I can make some more SecurityWaiter content-

To keep from spamming, I’m dropping it under a Read More-

Anyway, in this AU, Vanessa doesn’t exist.

Instead, Evan, Elizabeth, and Michael are William’s kids.

Michael, when he was very young, was removed from the house. There was an, uh, accident, with his Mother, and the CPS took toddler Mike away.

Mike was then adopted out to the Schmidt’s, who changed his last name and raised him as their own.

Evan died young- though unlike in the games, he didn’t die because of the bullies. He was just fascinated by the spring locks, and as little kids are, he got into places he shouldn’t- specifically, the workshop.

He died to Golden Freddy.

William, having lost his wife, his oldest, and now his youngest, snapped.

Blaming Henry Emily, his business partner for his creation’s murder of his son, William got drunk one rainy night and went out.

There, he found his work partner’s daughter, Charlotte, who was locked out of the Pizzaria.

He brought her into the alleyway besides the Pizzaria, and he killed her.

The security puppet, specifically made to keep the children from getting out of the building, then finally got out of its box that the other kids trapped it into, it left the building, and as the rain continued to pour and thunder rolled in the distance, it wrapped itself around Charlotte’s body.

Charlotte was the first, and she went on to possess the Puppet.

Time then passed. After Charlotte died, William noticed that the Puppet’s face was now stained with purple tears, Charlotte’s favorite color, and he figured out that the little girl had possessed the animatronic.

He continued to murder, killing kids one by one. The missing kids incident happened- then another missing kids incident happened, another, another, another.

He got caught a few times, but he was always let go due to the lack of evidence. None the less, the Afton name was not seen highly.

Deciding to move onto higher rate of capturing the kiddies, William made the Funtimes- and subsequently lost his last remaining child to the deathjaws of his creations.

Baby, along with the other Funtimes were locked below William’s house.

Changing his name, William fled Utah and moved to Minnesota.

But, of course, he couldn’t leave his favorite creations behind.

The Puppet, the first, had to go with him.

Along with both of the Springlock suits. Bonnie was his favorite, after all, and he while Baby was vengeful and aggressive, Golden Freddy was nice and placid.

Of course, if he was going to lug all three animatronics with him, he might as well go all the way. He took the other four animatronics, the ones who held 4 of the first 5 children he murdered.

He made sure he still owned the branch of Freddy’s Pizzaria in Minnesota, got rid of the current rundown animatronics still there, and moved in his bunch.

The Puppet grew.. angry at the movement, and much to William’s chagrin, he moved her to the back of the building, in the storage shed, where she would be locked up and far away from the others.

At that, William noticed that the other haunted animatronics were so much more calmer- less aggressive.

Of course, they still murdered, but the killing attempts were no longer pointed towards him.

William was fascinated by that- and thought maybe the reason for that was because of the Puppet’s separation from the others- so he kept her locked there. Forgotten and alone.

Meanwhile, Mike had gained custody of his adopted Little Sister, and was now looking for a job after losing his last.

Meeting up with his Job Coach, Steve Raglin offered him a new job- and the movie began.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Could just be me, but I'm over here thinking of how Tseng would handle the knowledge that his s/o carries multiple hidden weapons on her person due to the overall unsafe fuckery going on around her.

Even before establishing their relationship, he's aware of her hidden weapons, is he cautious? Obviously, but he's understanding, relieved just knowing she's prepared for the worst. Does he know exactly where they are hidden at first? Not really, but he can definitely guess, and it's not until she feels safe enough that she trusts him to know where to look. It's the highest form of love and trust his s/o can offer him. Why? Because she's trusting him and willing to let him protect her while her guard is down.

This answer is….all over the fucking place, sorry LOL

I think I might be the right person to answer this question for personal reasons (srry not srry i love my guns.) I too think about how Tseng would react once he noticed I conceal carry. But I'm also very considerate of the fact that not all people are comfortable with the presence of firearms. I guess I'll explain this from personal experience.

Before establishing a relationship there really should be a discussion on the topic to see how the other feels about it. Not until you can trust him enough at least, but it's a little nuts to go to someone's home without them knowing you're armed, so that discussion would have to happen before the first time you go to his place. If he comes to your place though...you don't have to say shit. He'll be nosey enough to find the gunlocker, hiding spots, ammo, extra magazines, and/or maintenance supplies etc while you're asleep. Sorry, I can't imagine Tseng isn't a snooping ass boy.

Granted, there are more weapons a person can carry other than a gun, this would probably be the only problematic weapon to Tseng. It isn't like you'd be fast or strong enough to outmaneuver him with hand to hand combat. Short range wouldn't work out in most people's favor.

Now having weapons on your person. How would he notice before you tell him? Well, conceal carry isn't the most comfortable thing in the world and a lot of holsters suck and depending on what you're wearing...the outline/bulge ugh. Like, sometimes it's just there LOL. The preferred location is the front of my waistband (faster for me to draw and easiest location to hide it.) Sometimes this limits range of motion, cause fucking hell, tying your shoe for example with a firearm on your front is wildly uncomfortable. Weapon size matters too, full-sized firearms are far harder to hide than compact ones. He’s probably able to tell all the little signs.

So if you've perfected the art of concealing; how else would he know? Well...physical contact probably. You can try to be slick and give him that disrespectful side hug but after a few dates he isn't playing that anymore and pulls you into a fully flushed hug. You also can’t cuddle someone and they NOT notice you got that thang on you. He’s gonna touch all over you eventually and without a doubt you’ll probably want him to.

I think he won’t be bothered at all in fact, I’m sure he wouldn’t even discourage you from carrying. I’ve seen this numerous places and agree with the head canon that Tseng probably does extensive background searches of people he dates. So as long as that’s clean, he isn’t so bothered. Plus he’ll be gone often and without Tseng being around you’ll need to protect yourself as you have been. So knowing that you’re already capable of doing so is a relief to him. He’s going to make sure you’re throughly up to speed with the safety of weapons and would probably help improve your handling. Definitely gives me the vibes that he’d unload your gun, set it down, and ask you to grab it. Just to get a quick glimpse of how you approach holding it. He needs to know you don’t grab it any kind of way and that you certainly don’t treat guns like they’re a fuckin toy.

I do love visualizing when I come home from the day and I’m disarming myself. Dropping my mag and putting my gun in Tseng’s nightstand to assert dominance over these other bitches Rufus. I also take that as the ultimate sign that you’re stuck with me. 😂😂😂my gun??? In someone else’s nightstand???? The fuck, I’d be DAMNED but I’d trust Tseng enough for it.

[serpercival]

Reblog for anyone who missed it + a bonus prequel ficlet that I might roll into a 5+1 at some point in the near future or a longfic in the far future as a treat :3

-

Hawkeye looked at the letter in his hands, the name on the office door, and tried to figure out exactly what the hell was going on.

He’d quit his job at Boston General two months ago. The hospital admins wouldn’t let him do his goddamn job, and getting fired for endangering patients by giving them the goddamn treatments they needed would have gotten him blackballed from every hospital on the East Coast.

He got blackballed anyway. Two straight months of applying everywhere he could with his credentials, and nothing had come of it. Nobody had even responded. Not even when he started extending the search to clinics. Fifteen years as Chief of Thoracic Surgery down the drain.

He’d been starting to think about going back to Crabapple Cove, begging the guy who was running his father’s old practice to let him work with him, and dying of boredom six months later.

Then the letter showed up. He had a guaranteed job as Chief of Thoracic Surgery at San Francisco Memorial Hospital, with a fifteen percent raise from his previous salary, as long as he was willing to haul ass and get out there within the week.

He took the job. What the hell else was he going to do?

The thing that had been needling him, though, was that it was from the desk of Dr. Jane T. McIntyre, Chief of Surgery.

She probably didn’t have any relation to who he was thinking of. Trapper hadn’t left a note and had dropped so thoroughly off the face of the planet that even the people who used to work with him at Boston General didn’t know where he’d gone. Quite frankly, he was probably dead. Plenty of people from Korea were; they drank themselves to death over the next fifteen years or jumped into a lake somewhere when they realized they didn’t know how to keep living.

The secretarial desk inside the office was cluttered. The girl working there was young, very blonde, and didn’t acknowledge him until he knocked on the one open patch of wood he could find.

“I’m here to see Dr. McIntyre,” he said, the name catching in his throat. “Hawkeye Pierce?”

The girl hummed in acknowledgement and buzzed the intercom. “You two know each other? She’s been going nuts since you called this morning.”

“Nuts how?”

“I dunno. Pacing. Snapping at people.”

Hawkeye tapped his fingers on the desk. It kept needling at him.

Another couple of minutes and he’d have his answers.

“No, we don’t,” he said, worrying at his lip with his teeth. “I might have known someone related to her, that’s all.”

“Oh. She doesn’t talk with her family.”

The intercom buzzed back.

The secretary waved Hawkeye inside.

McIntyre was leaning back against her desk, long legs godawful attractive even hidden by tailored slacks, chest perfectly highlighted by the waistcoat underneath her suit jacket. Her hair was just above shoulder length, tight silver curls with the tiniest remaining streaks of blonde, framing controlled but flawless makeup, hazel eyes, and an overbite Hawkeye would know anywhere.

Hawk closed the door behind him.

She cocked a hip, drawing his eyes back to her legs. Jesus Christ, those slacks were tight in the thighs. If she was–

If he’d been–

“Trapper,” Hawkeye breathed.

She smiled, lopsided and clever and so wide it barely fit on her face, and tilted her head, examining him in return. “Hiya, Hawk.”

Hawkeye set his briefcase down on the couch. She craned her head to watch him, something terrified in her eyes beneath the friendly smile.

“Do people still call you Trapper?” he asked.

“Only guy who calls me anything else is a fuckin’ weirdo,” she said, spreading her fingers over the wood of her desk. Her nails were clipped short for surgery, but they were neatly manicured, pretty and shiny. “He’ll try to call you Ben.”

“It’s something we’ll work on.”

Trapper watched him, waiting.

“You’ve aged well,” Hawkeye said, making the vaguest gesture towards her that he possibly could. He didn’t want to point at anything too specific.

“Thank you,” she said, the smile growing even wider. “So have you.”

“This old thing? I’ve been letting it do whatever it wants.”

Trapper swallowed, throat bobbing in a way that held Hawkeye’s attention the same way it had all those years ago.

She held out her hand. “Come here, Hawk.”

Hawkeye took a step forward, held his arms open, and collapsed into the hug she offered, squeezing her around the waist so he didn’t touch anything that would make him a total pervert.

“I missed you,” he choked out.

Trapper cupped the back of his head, kissed him on the temple, and squeezed him back so tight it hurt. “I missed you, too.”

Transfem Trapper traphawk PWP for y'all :3 Set in the TJMD era but literally nothing from TJMD comes up except for the fact they're in San Fran, that's just to give you an idea of how old they're meant to be.

“You wanna see somethin’ nifty?” Trapper asked as she sat up. There were only a few toys in the box. Her strap and harness, which she hadn’t gotten the chance to use in ages. A slim vibrator that she needed to replace because one of the prongs on the plug had bent. And the one she wanted to show off… “Is that what I think it is?” Hawkeye asked, picking up the dildo. “Sure is. Little bit’a medical grade silicone, little bit’a plaster, and Big John’s preserved for posterity.”

[slopefruit]

(I love my new bedrooooooom)

home from work and had my little broke bougie shower featuring my santal 33 shampoo sample from gabby and sample of aēsop amazing facial cleanser. popped a eucalyptus shower steamer in, scrubbed down with co mingle by lush, and some bar soap from a local company in Georgia. splashed some aēsop bitter orange toner on my face and slathered myself in brazil nut body butter.

took a little hit of some fruity pebbles opened up the curtains to let the sun stream in and getting cozy.

reading a tree grows in Brooklyn— started it yesterday. It’s good. I love the slice of life from a kid’s perspective in early 20th century New York. Reminds me a bit of the heart is a lonely hunter, which I really savored reading last year and have been wanting something that scratches a similar itch.

got this journal dark green journal from Yoseka Stationary yesterday and I lovvvee it. The binding is gorgeous and the paper is really nice as well. I also bought my first fountain pen and I’m so into it, I don’t wanna go back. Really effortless glide on the page and a super thin line, nice for tiny drawings as well. Im looking for any excuse to scribble in this new notebook while also having my regular perfectionist anxiety about what I put in it. The intention was that this would be a general messy notebook with no rhyme or reason, so I need to let it be that and not be fuckin weird about it lmao.

making my way through the May recs list from the ladies at nymphet alumni pod… starting with the vanity fair Caroline Calloway interview which is just the kind of juicy girl grifter internet drama shit that I want to pig out on. In the last few days I’ve fallen madly and autistically into the world or fragrance and have decided that a history lesson is in order so over to YouTube for my independent research project…..

Where the perfume romance began… sat stoned and sipped my zero proof “aperol spritz” and cracked open these testers I bought on a whim recently… and omg Slumberhouse’s Kiste perfume had me drooling and wetting myself, it’s this rich sticky peachy tobacco smell like a summer night fucking outside by the fire or something. Sexy and juicy and warm with this waxy honey nose and a spicy patchouli note at the bottom. I love looking at the fragrance profiles on Fragrantica.com, the colors that go along with the main accords are really pleasing in the way that they match the colors I experience in the scent— for Kiste it’s those sunset shades, like a ripe peach, plus the warm brown of honey and dry tobacco.

kk Byeeeeeee

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

What make up product do you never use? I rarely wear make up, usually only for like certain occasions but one thing I’ve never used is foundation

Do you ever sit with your legs open? more than I probably should lol it’s the tomboy in me...I’m always in jeans so it’s whatever I don’t care :P

Have you ever been offered drugs on the street? no

What is one place you have been to and hated? Clifton, CO...

Have you ever seen a jellyfish? not in person

Do you know who Dylan Moran is? yeah

What’s your favourite kind of soup? alphabet lol no joke

Do you ever put bread in your soup? if it’s tomato soup of course I dip my grilled cheese in it! otherwise no

Would you like me to stop asking questions about soup? lol I don’t mind

Is there anything in the USB key slots in your computer/laptop? no

What advertisements are on your screen at the moment? none

Do you ever get a really itchy nose when you’re unable to scratch it? I mean I can scratch it but it just keeps itching and drives me nuts sometimes lol

Has anyone ever randomly licked your face? not full on lick but like poke with his tongue when kissing my cheek to mess with me lol 

When was the last time you bought a book? Tom Felton’s memoir a few months ago

What question do you hate being asked in surveys? they can get pretty repetitive but I don’t necessarily hate any, it is what it is 

Are you upstairs or downstairs at the minute? it’s a one level house so neither lol

Did anyone ever draw on your face when you were sleeping? no

Have you ever done that to someone else? I’d never do that, I’m not Jigglypuff :P

Have you ever been asked for directions? yeah

If so, did you ever give someone wrong directions? hopefully not, I suck with directions even for myself let alone trying to help someone else!

What’s your favourite brand of chocolate, galaxy, cadburys, or nestle? Nestle since the other two aren’t a thing here lol

Are there any farm animals near you? oh yeah there’s tons of farm land here so lots of people have cattle. closest ones to farm animal around here I’ve seen are goats, sheep, and cows

Are there any lakes near you? a few small ones

Was there ever a time when you felt absolutely terrified? a lot of times actually

If so, why? many reasons, depends on what terrified me at the time

Is there any TV show you watch religiously? Jeopardy, Shark Tank, Hoarders, EVERYTHING on ID (crime shows), Law and Order: SVU, court shows mainly Judge Judy, Bar Rescue, To Catch A Smuggler...just to name ‘a few’ XD

Have you ever been in your local newspaper? one time the first time we moved to CO, I was in 5th grade and our class was in the newspaper for our class pet and I’m reaching toward it to pet it which is the pic they chose for the paper lol it wasn’t front page or anything though

Have you ever called your mother ma or mammy? no

Can you imitate any other accent? yeah Brit and “country” pretty well, I think :P

What is your funniest memory of the 6th contact in your phone? ironically enough that’s my fiance cause I have him listed as ‘Babe’ XD and wayyyy too many to even count or list

Have you ever protested? no

Have you ever participated in a parade? no

Are you going to do anything for Paddy’s day? already passed and couldn’t drink so...sucked

Were you ever chased by an animal? not that I remember

Has anyone ever really insulted you? ha you serious? all my life

Have you ever told an elder to fuck off? not to their face...but I’ve worked a lot of retail so nuff said XD

Do you ever make banana sandwiches? oh my goddddd no but I fuckin love them!

Do you blush easily? ohhh yeah it’s ridiculous lol

Are you single/or taken? taken

Are you happy with that?^ yes

Do you make the first move or do you prefer it the other way around? other way around

What is the most painful thing you’ve experienced? physically I’d say my collarbone being broken, with ovarian cysts bursting and the cramps from that a very tight close second

Do you feel guilty about anything? all the fuckin time

Do you hug someone whenever you see them? my fiance, my dad/stepmom/stepsis when we visit them in NJ

Have you ever been in the accidents and emergency room? I damn near live in the ER...accident wise? yeah, a few bike wrecks growing up and most recently when I totaled my car last year due to a DUI....I should be dead right now, let’s put it that way and I somehow came out with only major whiplash and a few bumps and bruises..

When was the last time you bled? What happened? I won’t state the obvious since I’m a woman XD umm this major basal cell on my hairline that I’m having major surgery on soon to remove with subsequent surgeries for skin grafts given how extensive it’ll be bleeds/pusses all the time even without touching it and rescabs/repeats so...yeah 

Is there anyone you know that gives you the creeps? not that I can think of at the moment

Do you call random objects ‘gay’? no

Have you ever started talking to someone that you thought was someone else? no

When you look behind you what catches your attention the most? the tv tray next to the loveseat (I’m sitting with my back against the armrest and legs stretched out) and the clutter on it :P

[shojimezolovemail]

I’m not sure if your still writing for jackass, but would you be willing to write headcanons for a female cast member who is just as crazy, gross, and funny as them?

A/N: i do still in fact write for jackass! feel free to send requests anytime :3 these are little short sorry! hope you still enjoy, sweetheart

warnings: mentions of things that could be gross (blood + etc), injuries of jackass level, mentions of throwing up and bodily functions

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE

he is absolutely stunned when he first meets you

you definitely make an impression by the willingness to fill in for stunts if needed

and your humor! he is already almost always laughing but he loves your timing in your jokes and things the most

johnny will keep it in mind to test your limits because he really is curious

the first time you do something gross is for sure dog poop related and the fact you don’t immediately puke impresses him

after getting dog poop on you, he is your first victim of who you’re ‘just trying to give a hug’

STEVE-O

if he sees you as a ‘rival’ to his own gross and insane stunts, he’s mad for a little while

but then he realizes he’s being ridiculous and now you have a ‘partner’ for all the gross stuff on set

steve-o’s tackling you the moment you get on the set

not for any other reason besides wanting to see if you’ll catch him

after knocking you directly into concrete and drawing blood, he’s learned to only come barreling at you near grass

you two are like an iconic duo on set too because you two are on the same level of being off your rockers

CHRIS PONTIUS

similar to knoxville, he’s a giggly guy so he loves your humor

definitely thinks you’re one of, if not the funniest on set

he loves watching you do the stunts others who’d never agree to, even if he’s a little jealous

this is a man who also definitely tackles you, just to do it so…be careful with him

since you made a good impression with stunts or pranks, whatever you fall victim to, he’s inviting you to do wild boyz with him and steve-o

if you agree, the crew has their work cut out for them because it’s just you, steve-o and pontius getting into trouble

BAM MARGERA

tries to act unimpressed with your willingness to take him place in stunts he backs out of but, he’s sighing with relief secretly

he takes a little while to warm up to you

once he does though, he’s dragging you around clubs and bars to share your jokes and stories

bam thinks you’re in fact very cool but will he ever admit that to you? probably not

he’s the first to grab a medic whenever you start bleeding or the few times you’ve been seriously injured

you’re smiling through it though because you’re a little impressed with yourself

“did the shot look good?” “oh fuck off, you nearly broke your fuckin’ leg.”

RYAN DUNN

ryan’s a man who is not tackling you but, throwing you around set

you’re trying to do a stunt despite being told to heal an injury? over his shoulder you go

he puts you back on the ground laying in the grass and runs away so you can’t attack him

it’s a very beautiful moment of your friendship with him for sure

the amount of times he’s had to drag you off to a medical tent or the staff because of an injury is too many to count

ryan knows you’re just having fun but deep down he gets a little worried, especially if you’re so similar to steve-o

DANGER EHREN

if you made a good first impression on him, he’s letting you participate in any stunts that involve him being hurt because he knows you’re not gonna sneak attack him in the nuts while a tooth gets yanked

you might do that after the stunt ends but never during

it’s always funnier to you if it’s not synced to the stunt or prank he was involved in

ehren’s a little skeptical of your draw to the more gross aspects of the job but, if it keeps him out of it, be his guest

he’s another person who appreciates your humor for what it is

will frequently assure you to retell stories and funny instances because he wants others to see what he sees

DAVE ENGLAND

the fact you’re alright with gross things is enough for you to be good in his books

for the amount that he shits on set, it doesn’t hurt to have another person desensitized to it

he tries to help with your injuries as well as much as he can

“i told you not to jump off that story and what did you do? jump off the story! on a surfboard no less.” “did i look cool?”

dave appreciates your wild side and encourages you to participate in any stunt you feel like you can handle

of course, he’d prefer if you didn’t try to sneak stunts while in recovery from another one but there’s only so much biting from you he can take

[duraraross]

Fed vs New transcription:

Felix: come on, guys. Let’s not draw this out any longer than we have to.

Tucker: sounds good to me! [takes out sword]

Felix: [laughing] oh no, you are NOT— seriously? You’re gonna go with the sword? Oh, no, oh, okay, alright.

Tucker: what’s wrong? Scared?

Felix: oh, this is gonna be fun.

[scene cut]

Felix: for god’s sake, man, loosen up. You gotta get limber.

Tucker: how did you convince kimball to go to the capital?

Felix: Vanessa? Oh, pfft, she was easy! I just made up some story about how you all died heroically. You should’ve seen it, man. I have the performance of a fuckin lifetime!Got all broken up, threw in a few dramatic pauses, and they just ate it up.

Tucker: so how long have you and locus been working together?

Felix: I’m sorry, I thought we were going to be fighting here?

[tucker charges Felix, Felix dodges and hits him. Felix does a bow and says “round one: Felix” like a douchebag]

Tucker: god, you’re a fucking tool.

[scene cut]

Felix: god, I just really want to savor this. Yknow, once the reds and rebels kill each other, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I mean, we’ve been playing these guys for years. How do you just walk away from something like that?

Tucker: what happened to retirement?

Felix: oh, well, yeah, I’ll be filthy stinking rich. But I’m still in my prime! [transcriber’s note: he is in his late 30s] there’s so much more I could do.

Tucker: keep talking, asshole.

Felix: well, the thing about that is, uh… oh, oh ho ho ho, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You know, I just realized I haven’t seen your pals in a while. I wonder if they’re trying to get the jump on me! [turns and shoots a sticky grenade at the main cast behind him]

Simmons: ah! He knows!

Tucker: no!

[tucker charges Felix again and Felix stabs him]

Felix: that’s the last time you try to outsmart me, Captain Tucker.

[scene cut]

Felix: you still don’t get it, do you? The entire reason you sim troopers were allowed to live this long… is because you’re all LOSERS! Control was confident that you’d do more damage to these people than they could ever do to themselves. I mean, a bunch of idiots in charge of an army? Come on, it was a recipe for disaster! Locus and I figured we’d let you rack up the casualty count then kill you after a few weeks. Oh… but then… you did something special. You gave these people hope! And with that came a new level of motivation. To fight harder, to die faster. All with the belief that their sacrifice might actually MEAN something. But you know what? It all means NOTHING! At the end of the day, if I’m stronger than you, and if I’m faster than you, then I can kill you. And that’s better than anything money can buy.

Tucker: I don’t know man, I think I’d rather be rich than a fucking nut job. What do you think, Church?

Church: yeah, this guy’s got no idea what he’s talking about.

Felix: what the… what the fuck is this??

Tucker: oh, this is church. He’s the AI that helps me run my equipment.

Felix: [voice cracking] what equipment??

Tucker: my helmet cam.

[silence]

Tucker: oh ho! Someone just got fucking busted!

[tucker’s video of Felix being evil plays to everyone, and everyone realizes he’s been playing them]

Small Bracket Round 1-27

He's Horrible (❤️ ω ❤️)

Warren Kepler (Wolf359): Fans say: "smug ass bastard man he's so entertaining he's awful and horrible and i want to punch him in the face he's the character ever."

Isaac “Felix” Gates (Red vs Blue): Review: He’s horrible he’s my favorite character he’s a monster he’s never done anything wrong he’s committed war crimes he’s my little Angel he came straight from hell.

Marcus Cutter (Wolf359): Fans say: Worse than Kepler

[vixenpen]

Oooooooh I got a steamy request queen! How about we have Shoto (Hawks, Baku, or Kiri; whoever YOU think should do it) as a well-known maaseur that immediately took interest in us black!readers when we come in his shop and we get a body massage from him. However, his hands are GODLY and he hits all the tender spots and we have to keep ourselves from moaning cuz it feels so good and we don’t want him to be weirded out but he lowkey is getting just as turned on and even touches up our nether bits (like our ass) which escalates to us fucking in the room???? 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Love ya lots queen and keep up writing, your work is amazing!!! 🤎🤎

Working out the kinks (Bakugo x Black! Reader)

(I haven’t finished this yet. So please ignore it 😂 I meant to save it to my drafts and accidentally posted it so I’m working on it bit by bit)

“Just get undressed to the point you’re comfortable with and I’ll be back in a few.”

“Sure. You nodded.”

And with that Katsuki left you in the dim, candlelit room to undress.

Once Katsuki had stepped out of the room, he allowed his mind to run wild. Damn you were fine. All melanated curves, smooth skin, and bright eyes.

While you did your thing in the back, the man headed for the bathroom to stroke himself off to the thought of those beautiful brown curves under his touch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did she have to come in today? No fuckin’ way I’m gonna be able to concentrate.

He thought as he spilled his seed into a tissue and threw it away. Hopefully busting that nut would be enough to keep him from popping another hard on in the room.

Minutes later it Seemed like you had gotten completely naked from the way the white sheet was hugging your beautiful brown body.

Shit, she’s sexy as fuck. I gotta calm down and stay professional.

He thought as he rolled the sheet lower on your hips. He was grateful you were facedown with your eyes closed so you couldn’t see him eye humping that fat ass of yours.

“Let me know if the pressure is too deep, yeah?” He mentioned, warming the scented oil between his large palms.

Little did he know his gruff, deep voice and those words had your pussy clenching.

“Ok.” You hummed too relaxed to speak above a whisper.

Then you felt those big, capable hands pressing out all the tension and strain you’d been feeling for the past few weeks, and had to actively fight back a moan.

Instead a deep sigh rolled out of you as the masseuse kneaded sore and locked muscles.

“You’re really tight here, Ms. Y/n. Carry a lot of tension in this area?”

“Yeah~” you moaned.

The sweet sound of it made Katsuki’s dick jump.

“Would you be ok if I went a little deeper with it?” He asked in what was almost a purr. “If not that’s ok.”

“No you can go deeper,” you replied, “I like deep pressure.”

I bet you fuckin’ Do.

The man thought as he slid his hands and his gaze lower, imagining that he was massaging your round ass. He put his all into his hand work. Finally, you couldn’t hold back anymore, a long groan escaped your lips.

The man’s hands paused. He felt his dick stand to attention. At the same time, you tensed completely on the table.

“I-I am so sorry.” You stammered.

A rough laugh met your ears and made you shift. It was such a warm, manly sound.

“Don’t be,” your masseuse replied, “those are the kinds of sounds I like to hear.”

Your breath caught as his big, warm palms moved down to your hips and butt.

“I try to draw those sounds out as much as possible.” He purred. “Moaning and putting you to sleep is the goal.”

Fuck...

You thought. Katsuki laughed.

“I wish.”

“Wh-wait, what? Did I say that out loud.”

The man laughed again. “Sure did.”

“I-I really didn’t mean to. It just...feels so good.”

“Bet it does.” He replied.

“Did you say, I wish?” You replied.

“Hey, you started it.” You heard the smirk in his voice.

“You tilted to look at the massage therapist.” In his plain scrubs you could see his broad chest flexing beneath the thin material. Your eyes ran down his bulging biceps and to the big hands on your hips.

You bit your lip before glancing up at Katsuki.

He licked his own lips back at you.

“You know you’ve got another thirty minutes.”

Your pussy warmed again with want.

“What are you suggesting?” You asked.

He slid the sheet down your hips and grabbed the mounds of your ass in his hands, giving it a massage.

“Let me work on some other kinks, yeah?”

[hansolmates]

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 

You scream. 

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 

“Well… is he at least cute?” 

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 

“Tasteful nudes.” 

“I’m gonna die.” 

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 

Of course, he’s stupid hot. 

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?” 

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 

“You think right.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ??? 

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird. 

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 

You choke on your saliva. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 

“It was.” 

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

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comfy, for your consideration: geraskier tarzan au

oooooooo yessssss 

this is perfect braincell fuel tonight nonie. thank you 🙏

do i think the content of Tarzan is kosher? no. am i gonna miss an opportunity to put my hoey boys in that situation and let my brain run with it? also no. things don't have to be unproblematic to be enjoyed, moving on.

I want Jaskier as Tarzan 👀👀👀 - not what you were expecting, I know, but hear me out.

Jaskier swinging through the trees, lithe and strong and curious, finds Geralt, part time intellectual and big time dubmass, backed into a corner with just his bitch ass notepad and a penknife against a leopard. 

He swoops him off his feet and Geralt blue screens bc ‘holy shit I haven’t been picked up by anyone since God-knows-when and he saved me from the big scary cats I was trying to draw I think imma die’

Geralt is fascinated by the human who doesn't act human -think about it. Geralt is such a fuckin nerd! He would be a perfect Jane! Pretty, optimistic (just work with me here), stubborn, very excited about the possibility of sentient creatures, father figure is also a giant nerd, and repressed as hell

come on, victorian women have nothing on Geralt of Rivia when it comes to pretending not to have feelings/be human

Jaskier as Tarzan!?!?!?!?!? Slim-strong, big curious eyes, no personal space, ridiculous amounts of empathy, did I say curious(?), ridiculously emotionally available, and teaches the other main character how to chill tf out and smell the fucking roses.

That and, to be completely honest, I just really wanna put Joey in a loincloth and set him loose in the jungle. I think it would be great fun and his shoulders are very pretty. 

This also gives us room for the ever beloved Delicate Sensibilities Geralt.

“Oh no! I ripped my shirt! Jaskier will see my rippling muscles and light dusting of chest hair! Whatever shall I do!?”

see also

“No, Lambert you don't understand. He gently held my face between his palms and brushed his thumbs against my cheekbones. Then he stared into my eyes like they held the world. My fiance barely acknowledges my existence! Do you- fuck no I’m not doing that to you it was romantic as hell!”

Jaskier is also feral as fuck when it comes to protecting people he cares about. Like. he may be a dufis in the show, but he has the heart okay? He would absolutely go against fuckin whats-his-nuts-big-gorilla and save his stupid scientist boyfriend.

Holy shit Stregodouche as Clayton.

Geralt wouldn’t even do the final scene with the whole getting on the ship either. He’d sit his ass down with his sketchpad and books in the sand and refuse to move. 

His expedition party would leave and he’d just waltz into the woods to his lover’s arm and they’d bring all his books up to the treehouse and be cute and dumb and pretty together for the rest of their lives. bc fuck the ending of that movie

What I’m really saying is: I want a George of the Jungles style movie with the whole female gaze thing but i want it gay, and i want to get rid of all the toxic shit. 

[spookysmujer]

Chupa, O. Diaz

Summary: A rainy day with Oscar takes an arousing turn.

warnings: fluff, oral s e x 👅 (18+), kinky s h e t 

word count: 1.6K

requested by anon!

A/N: We all know Oscar cannot resist his mujer! Ladies/men, how do you get your mans/women to stay in bed with you? Thank you for requesting, just to give y’all a heads up REQUESTS ARE CLOSED! I hope you like this. Please consider following my blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well as turning on notifs for when I post something new!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @firebenderwolf @spookysnena @princesstiffxoxo @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc @roury66  @kkim120​ (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

(gif credit goes to @merakiaes​ ✨)

If it’s one thing that can automatically align your chakra’s is the soothing sound and smell of rain. It’s opens up the smell of nature and despite living in one of the dirtiest cities in California, you love the rainy days. Especially when it consists of cuddles with Oscar. You love to be entangled with him under the sheets even though he isn’t much of a cuddler.

You’re half on top him with one of your legs over his waist and head resting on top his chest, his shallow breathing adding to your ultra calmness. He initiated the cuddling today probably because he was out late yesterday and wanted to make it up to you. Nothing could ruin right now. But of course, the universe is forever against you, he gets a call. 

“I’ve gotta bounce, mami.” 

He says as he stretches under you. You groan and pout, holding on him. Today is suppose to be all about the two you, you’re determined to make him stay. And you know just how to do it.

Oscar pulls out his phone and is sending out texts to the rest of the Santos to let know the plan’s for today. He’s so focused on his phone that he hasn’t realized you’ve rolled off of him. Now sitting up, you are looking down at him. He never fails to look so good. So yummy.

You’re biting your lip as your eyes rake his body. His upper half is bare and bottom draped with the sheet and underneath he only has a pair boxers on. You look to his bottom half then back up to his face. As you bite your lip at the thought of convincing him to stay, you smile.

The plan is in motion. You crawl off  and stand at the foot of the bed. He’s still in tune with his phone, oblivious to what is about to happen. You pull your hair behind you and tie it into a high ponytail. Quickly, before he can notice or protest, you throw off your tank top and crawl under the sheets. 

Oscar finally takes notice to the movement below him. Just as he moves his phone from his view, he sees your figure moving under the sheets on him. “What are you doing, hm?”

You palm him through his boxer and feel him stiffen under you as settle between his legs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“I told you I gotta bounce.”

You only hum and you squeeze more in between his legs and grab his boxers to pull down. Despite his protests to stop, you pull them down enough to take out his semi-hard cock. Your eyes glistening as you stroke him along his shaft.

His body begins to relax under you the more your hand moves up and down on him. He throws his phone to the side and moves his hands to rest under the back of his head, closing his eyes to enjoy getting this BJ.

You move up enough to get your face directly in front of his cock, watching his pre-cum spills out and down onto his sack. You’re not gonna lie, your mouth begins to water at thought of him coming undone in your mouth. You love to give him blowjobs, the way his body shudders gets you off alone.

Oscar wiggles his hips forwards when he doesn’t feel you getting to work, you smile and take him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his throbbing tip, a low moan escaping from. Nothing like focusing on the tip when it comes to sucking him off. You move him further into your mouth til you feel him hit the back of your throat.

If it’s one thing that Oscar absolute loves is hearing you gag on his cock. You always thought it was a funny kink that guys have. Mostly because they believe their dicks are so bomb you’re choking on them but they are quick to forget that a lot of girls also choke on their toothbrushes when cleaning their tongues.

You shake your head and hold him in the back of your throat, feeling the reflex kick in. A gag sounds and he hums in happiness, “Choke on that dick, nena.” 

Bobbing your head up and down, Oscar finally opens his eyes and peers downward, taking one hand to push the sheet off him. You peer up at him and pull your mouth off him. You pucker your lips and turn your head to the side, letting his cock slide through your pouted lips. He loves your lips.

Your tongue licks the underside of his length, up and down til you reach his scrotum, you hold his hard member to the side and take his entire sack into your mouth, maneuvering it in one after the other. Oscar’s mouth forms an O and his eyebrows crease, “Hm, take my dick into your pretty little mouth. The whole thing.”

As your told, you move his dick into your mouth and play with his tip before taking his entire length, encasing it in your saliva to his hilt and his tip now resting in your throat. Once it gets there Oscar removes his hand from behind his head, placing both on top your head. 

He begins to buck his hips, throat fucking you and moaning nicely adding to your arousal. You have your hands holding onto his thighs as the feeling of his cock begins to overwhelming you. “Ah, fuck. Your tight throat feels so fuckin’ good, mami.”

Oscar grabs your ponytail and pulls you off his cock. You’re gasping for air as saliva drips down your chin and onto him. You lick your top lip and Oscar groans, nodding you to move off him, “Lay on your back.”

You smile and roll onto you back, pushing off your sleep shorts and rubbing your arousal around your cunt. Excited to feel is cock deep inside of you. Oscar climbs ontop you and kneels above your torso.

“I wanna fuck your tits. I wanna cum on them then I’m gonna fuck you.” You bite your lip and feel yourself throbbing more. You nod and bring your hands to squeeze your boobs together. Oscar grabs you by your throat and you instinctively open your mouth, he spits it in making you nearly cum. You spit the mixture of his and your own saliva into your cleavage. 

His cock slides through from the bottom on your pressed breasts and pokes out at the top. He moans and slides in back out but back in just as quick, his pace beginning to pick up now. Oscar leans forward and lets his hands rest on the sides of your head on the bed.

Now at a steady pace, you tip your head down and stick out your tongue, the tip of his dick just hitting it. Your flick your tongue up and down, adding to the nut he’s about to bust, you keep doing so when you hear the change in his breathing. You keep your mouth open as his hips being to falter and his seed is spurting on your chest and partially in your mouth.

You’re a squirming, horny mess under him.

He sits back and you let go of your boobs. He has sweat covering him and trying to catch his breath too. You pick up some of his cum with your finger and suck on it. He watches you and climbs off, you know he’s gonna get tired so you quickly straddle him.

“Eh, mamas, give me a sec.” He lays his arms out as you disregard his words and sit in his softening cock. He can feel your arousal saturating him. Oscar’s hands goes to your hips and you rub your hot cunt on him, his cock starting to stiffen quickly again. 

You’re grinding on his now, his dick sliding through your folds. His hard member rubbing against your sensitive clit and drawing your close to a release, “I love how your cock fits through my folds, baby. You make me cum so fast, fuck, I’m gonna cum already.”

He digs his fingers deeper into your skin, aiding to your rolling hips and when the orgasm hits you, Oscar reaches behind you to line his dick with your entrance, sliding in with ease.

The feeling overwhelming you, he grins, “No break for me, none for you, lil traviesa.” Your whine as you take him completely, though still shaking from your first release. He lets his arms fall back on the bed, letting you take the reigns.

Oscar closes his eyes as your squeeze him like a vice. You’re lifting your hips and falling back down on his cock, hands planted on his chest. You lean back and expose your swollen bud, biting your lip and giving him a look he cannot resist.

He moves his hand to in between you, taking his thumb to rub your clit. The way he does so and how you are moving up and down, your release is close and you both know it.

“You gonna fuckin’ cum, I can feel it. Cum on my cock, mami.” As his wish is your bodies command, a fire spreads throughout you and you are shuddering, hunching over ontop him. Oscar grunts and cums inside of you, the feeling so nice and fulfilling.

As you lay ontop him, he runs his hands down your back and moves his hips to slip out of you.

“I still have to bounce.”

All Oscar gets is a soft snore from you. He laughs as you love to give him shit for being such a guy and getting so tired after sex but here you are. He only kisses your forehead and basks in the glory of the rainy day.

[hekatekun]

The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be. 

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else. 

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development. 

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.

[itsthe-grim-reaper]

ODE TO DEATH

Name: Teddy!

Alias: Grim, Grimmy, Anubis

Age: 19

Pronouns: any that you see me as, they/them, he/him, she/her

Sexuality: yes. I write for girl x girl, boy x boy, girl x boy, you name it

Visit my mutuals’ pages as well! (I’ll be adding on as I go too! Kisses)

@haikyutiehoe writes nsfw and sfw, and is very descript. I would go to her for both thirsts and fics! She posts almost every day :)

@puptarou They write multifandom! JJK, Tokyo Revengers, Haikyu…I would recommend them for their angst and nsfw, as well as sfw.

@143-cupid augh..please check out both their Haikyu and their Obey Me! fics. Please. You won’t regret it, the length is just right and the wording is superb.

@seijohfucker doesnt write often but DAMN is it GOOD …live for it. I rp with them on the side and it’s amazing so, they’re building up!

@hajimeskitten mmm..nsfw writings are..mmm..tasty. So fuckin tasty. Requests are promptly taken care of and I respect it.

@akaashisbabygirl I LOVE both Vivi’s style and the layout of her writing. I have stowed away a lot in my grim reads tag because I enjoy it. Sfw or NSFW, she never fails to disappoint. (Think she just hit a milestone too!)

@somecravings does dark content and my partner in crime when it comes to my fic I’m working on. I probably don’t even have to say the name either. But yeah! I know that she writes for Haikyu!!

@solarchuu Tee. We are enemies to lovers trope and I won’t move from that . Peeboy

@iwaamane AAHHHHHHHH SO SUPPORTIVE!! FUCKIN ADORABLE!! WRITING?? CHEFS KISS!! I LOVE YOU

@nocturniicus (@toykawaa) I met you through itsy bitsy and I don’t regret it. I love your thirsts and your quips as well as your writing and drawing styles ! Check them out for that Bokuto content please mmm

@wtf-vickyy VICKS VAPOR RUB !!! Love her writing and one of the reasons I got into it was her encouragement. Check her out pretty please

@sunatooru MUAH KISSES !!! Haikyuu writing is too fuckin notch! So so caring and encouraging as well and I’m thankful to have her as one of my mutuals !!

@semisgroupie Dee!! So fucking sweet and her writing for Haikyuu is amazing! Please go look !! One of my guilty pleasures!

@geronimowrites MOTIVATES ME !! Also like please check em out writing sends me . (Don’t @ me I have some stowed away to look at)

@fvckme-sir // @fvcks-back P! SWEET PEA! so so good . So sweet and kind and writing makes me wanna nut everywhere

@bimbokutos PUP !!! we talk all the time and I hope you’re well! IM GLAD WE TALK SO MUCH!! The times you do write I look forward to <3

[honorable-wanderings]

Word of Honor - Episode 2 Part 2 - Mirror Lake has more Fire than expected

In an interesting twist of fate Zhou Zishu decides to take the nice munchkin up on his offer to crash at his place for a while.

Thumbs up my dood

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Now the fuck are these guys?

Oh cool. Thanks.

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See? Children chants are creepy! Always!

But especially when driven by plort! (plort was a typo but I’m Keeping it.)

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Finally people treating our man with common decency and respect! Who knew he just needed a fancy bookmark?

Oop. Nevermind

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I have discovered the joys of fucking with people and I’m never going back again

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A fuck this guy again. I’m assuming we’re not supposed to like him? But I don’t like him either way. He has no...  je ne sais quoi

He boring. Basic. Bland.

It ain’t good.

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Oh and also you know how you wanted us to keep tabs on Zhou ZiShu? Oh well um.. it’s going great! Great! Yeah... except for... we can’t find him.

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Well if this ain’t a whole ass mood?

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Midnight already? Time for the pain pins to poke me painfully!

This sure is a weird version of Cinderella

gross

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Okay okay so normally the 7 torture nails block your chi? I’m understanding? So you can no longer do martial arts. And he would rather die than lose all his martial arts so he put the nails in slowly so that he could still have SOME of his martial arts. But the point of the nails is still that he wants to die and feels he deserves to be punished as well? Right? So having his martial arts helps mediate the pain which lessons the punishment

and if it weren’t for the punishment aspect couldn’t he have just like... faked the nails? Or would they have been able to tell? I mean this is all dramatic and all but where are your motivations Zhou ZiShu?

work with me here

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Hey?! That’s not sunlight?!?

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Love me a good silhouette shot

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And suddenly everything is on fire???

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Rude

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After watching like 4 people get killed in front of him and a lot of fire and ransacking our protragonists finally thinks perhaps he should get himself involved.

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How is everything a fucking boomerang???

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Pffffff I love it

Tunk thunk

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In another interesting development, the boat man from before is important?????

Also our boy is doing his best with that hat

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Okay I know he’s like a master of disguise and all but like he doesn’t seem to be doing much to actually... hide? Still love his wiggly sword style

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Um take the kid and fucking run maybe????

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*stalks you from a not very inconspicuous distance*

Didja miss me?

No

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Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go

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Fuck I hate being disarmed.

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This place looks strangely similar to the woodshed...

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The fuck are you?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

Yes I would. That’s why I asked

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There’s just nothing quite like a near death experience to bring people together.

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Take this kid and run!

But sir, you don’t seem to understand! I am the Best Boy! I simply cannot just leave you to die.

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Don’t worry kid! You can’t get in trouble anymore! Your dad is fuckin dead! Surely that’ll bring you some comfort!

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Random Local Boatman is surprisingly honorable and happens to be in debt to the father of the kid who was nice to you that morning.

Life sure is weird.

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He doing him best

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Though it is absolutely understandable, he reacts to being touched by that paper the way I react to walking into a spider web.

-------

Gramps is a badass

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I do have to say these guys do seem to be much better trained than the usual evil henchmen. And you have to appreciate their aesthetic.

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Seriously!! The best boy!!!!!

This man has helped in a little bit exactly once to repay him for his own kindness an this little teenager is willing to just die for him without hesitation.

Like no, son, the two old men are doing this so that YOU live. You have it backwards.

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Surpriiiiise I’m stalking you too!

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Oh no the henchmen are falling into the drawing things out to emotionally torture their prey thing. Don’t y’all know that giving the protagonist time to recover and/or study your moves is how you die? Did you even GO to henchman school?

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ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Just.. omg. The noise he made. “Dwaaah!!!”

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Okay kid I know you’re young and under a lot of stress and never really got into the whole martial arts training thing but grandpa is doing better than you literally laying down and covered in cuts. Just sayin

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Aw nuts

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*ding*

Please take your protagonist out of the oven as cooktime has been completed.

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The fighting editing style seems to be a weird splice of nice crisp slowmotion view of the action and spliced together jump cuts and zooms that make for an odd kinda hard to follow combination. But at least I guess they tend to end on ‘cool pose x”

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“Hey, Beggar! You’re good at martial arts. Somehow this surprises me even though I already knew that???”

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Unexpected trust fall ends better than anticipated

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Das gaee

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He’s bendin’ over backwards for you!!

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Unexpected but definitely varied emotional investments on the fact that Gramps is dying.

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Look at him being all humble.

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Ooh he could be in a medical drama. That is the perfect like sad close your eyes and head shake no I’m sorry he’s not gonna make it. Bravo.

Very delicate.

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“Don’t fuckin’ touch me”

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I’m guilt tripping you into a found family and you’re gonna like it punk

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Sick dude, whats your name? Shit no one’s asked me that before somehow I’m not ready..

Uh.uh... Zhou Xu.

Nailed it.

“Zhou Xu? Naw that doesn’t sound right.”

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May you learn from this never to underestimate, rob, and otherwise harass your local old boat man for you never know when he may force you through guilt and honor into taking on a ward and a quest under penalty of being haunted by his old ass ghost forever

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Uncle Li has died and most of the group is much more upset about it than they would have anticipated that morning.

Poor ChenLing is having a rough day.

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RIP Uncle Li. So much for living a carefree couple of years lying drunk in the sun.

It looks like even now you can’t escape your responsibilities Zhou Xu.

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Group of hereto-unknown men arrive in poor time to stop the bonfire

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“What’s wrong?” Um... maybe... fire??

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I say again, thank you for labeling the people I’m supposed to remember.

Also, why did y’all have to wait for orders before checking out the fuckin boats?

Y’all dumb.

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Hey, Wen KeXing, Not trying to throw off your groove or anything but maybe a funeral isn’t the best time for flirting? Perhaps? Maybe?

I know you don’t have an ‘off’ switch but maybe a pause button?

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“are you done?”

“Never.”

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It deadass took y’all this long to introduce yourself? You’ve been stalking him all this time and you never thought to go “btw my name Wen KeXing? Comment t’appelles tu?” Come on man

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Our best boy is having his not best day. D:

Don’t worry. Your new family will stalk/care for you.

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“A-Xiang! Make some food!” “No shit Sherlock I already did.” “My ideas are the best. :D”

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Eat your food!

Eat your food!

Eat your food!!

Eat your FOOD!!!

EAT YOUR FOOD!!!!

WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EAT YOUR GODDAMN FOOD?

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“Oh my GOD we get it you can fucking read! Oh my god.”

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If I prove I can read too will you pass me a damn pancake?

Fuck yeah.

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GOD DAMN IT SOMEONE EAT FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK

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Um excuse you this group only has room for one little bitch and it ain’t fuckin you, you hear me little girl?

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I am very sorry. Thank you for saving my life. I would like to re-assert my status as “best boy”.

HEY WHAT THE FUCK????

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Wen KeXing: 👀

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Please increase your friendship level before asking personal questions.

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Nya Nya you were useless when your home was burned to the ground and your family was killed waaaaah how pathetic are you!!

Can you fucking not?

My B.

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BEST BOY INJURED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

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Our Man Zhou ZiShu respects bodily autonomy!

Do not touch my fuckin’ boy or I will fight you!

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And we end the episode with Wen KeXing being horny on main!

Sir, keep it together. There are children present.

[queenofallhobos]

DAISYPOOL Chapter 1: Here there be backstory

Summary:

“Just read the story, fuckers.”

“Be nice Wade!”

“Fine! PLEASE read the story, fuckers.”

“There is  a LOT of cursing... and some sexual situations. You’ve been warned.”

"Are you kidding me Wade?! Wilma?!" I yelled when I picked up my new ID. "What's wrong with my ACTUAL name?" I demanded whirling on him. "I did use your actual name, see?" He said pointing to my new middle name. "Yeah, I see that. Why isn't it in the right place?" "You're a Wilson now, you needed a name that started with a W. It's the rule." He supplied with a shrug. "You know how these things work, Peter Parker, Jessica Jones..." "Tony Stark, Steve Rogers... it isn't a rule. Besides when have YOU ever been one to follow the rules? There are also a ton of W names you could have used! Willa for instance." "Willa is from another fic." Wade shrugged again and patted my shoulder. "Now nut up and shut up, Wilma. Time to reveal your tragic backstory to the readers." "Really? This is the beginning to my story?" I deadpanned glaring around the room as if I would be able to see my invisible audience. "It's a fanfic, the readers aren't here for you so it starts when things get interesting. You told me you saw my movie, why do I have to explain this to you?" Wade sighed giving me a disappointed look. "Whatever, how does this work? Do I just tell them what's going on and how I know you're not just a crazy person?" "It's your story, you do you boo boo." Yet before I was able to open my mouth the microwave beeped and Wade jumped to his feet to pull out a bag of buttered popcorn. "When the hell did you start making popcorn?! Ugh, nevermind." I shrugged and took a breath trying to figure out where to start. "Well... It all started when I was born" I begin. "Jesus, God Almighty, Wil. We want to entice our readers not info dump on them. Have I taught you NOTHING?" Wade exclaims. "How the hell am I supposed to tell them everything without telling them, WADE?" "You show them shit head. Cue flash back." "That's more your thing, I don't know how to-"

The apartment around me fades into the interior of my old chevy aveo, the one I drove before all this mess starts. "Oh... this is weird." I yelp, taking a peek at my old face with all it's acne scars and laugh lines. "Damn Wil, check out those tits!" Wade said poking at my old DDD's "Focus Wade, cause shits abou-" I was cut off at the sudden impact of my car into the trailer of the semi I had been behind on the freeway. "I knew I hadn't seen brake lights." I huffed. "Shut up, this is the good part." Of course he thinks this is the good part, there he is blowing up Francis's lab and attempting to save me only to be attacked by fuckin' Francis. "That was when you gave me your powers." I pointed out to when I had grabbed Wade's hand for comfort before he was thrown across the room. "They already know all this, we don't need to watch the whole thing." Time seemed to be on 2x speed as we watched Wade and I emerge from the ashes, naked and confused. A training montage so I could help Wade get his revenge on Francis, along with some bonding time where he took on the role of my big brother. Our first adventure to see Xavier to learn about my powers, which trust me was not as exciting as it sounds. Xavier is cool in his own way but I am POSITIVE Patrick Stewart is a million times better. This part I really will just info dump on you, trust me it's much more interesting than the lecture I got that day. Essentially we found my power is the ability to mimic another mutants power indefinitely. I do it by touching the palm of the other mutant with my own palm, and while it may sound like I'm some sort of OP character it isn't that straight forward. I don't know how to control the abilities and they're a watered down version of the mutants I got them from. The day I met the Professor I managed to shake hands with Logan and Iceman before Xavier put a stop to it.

"That good enough? They know how your movie ends, my presence didn't change anything since I wasn't there that day." I asked Wade who had started dozing on the couch, mouth wide open with popcorn stuck to his tongue. "WADE! Ugh nevermind." I grumbled, then with another paranoid glance around the room decided it was time for a walk to clear my head. I hadn't been expecting my 'story' to start today, hell I was convinced Wade was full of shit when he told me I would probably become the character of a fanfic. Don't think about it too hard, it'll give you a headache... trust me. My feet led me toward the Sanctum, my guilty pleasure place. I'd waited until I was sure Stephen Strange was the Sorcerer Supreme before beginning to mess with things. Just little things, freezing the bottom of the steps in the middle of summer with the weak ice powers I'd learned to control, ordering a ton of pizzas to be delivered there, making up a fake party and spreading a bunch of invitations using the sanctum for the address. I'd managed to sneak a few bags of dog poo I'd lit on fire, they just used magic to extinguish it but it was still hilarious to me. Mostly it was just stupid juvenile kind of pranks and I was slightly surprised I hadn't been caught by Stephen or Wong, but I will admit I was more concerned about Wade finding out I'd been causing trouble and leaving him out of it. I had just crossed the street when a couple of giggling girls bumped into me, drawing me from thoughts. I was just about to chew them out when I caught the end of their conversation. "-that we met Thor!" The one shrieked.

Chapter 2

I will try to update once a week, so check back next Friday, or let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist.

@evening-starlight