#anyway. i just had to get this off my chest. TEAM BLITZ SWEEP

[cloudysarts]

"What?! Fuck you, Stolas! You spring this 'feelings' bullshit on me-- are you fucking kidding?! Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich asshole?!"

~i don't support vivziepop or her shows + this art/redesign is from my rewrite~

(unblurred ver under the cut)

[criminally--reid]

sex and booze

god that's such a shit title I'm sorry

""Ay I’m the one who requested the southern reader thing and um since I’m DUMB I neglected to ask if it could be smut?""

I cant find the first part of the ask bcos i suck? but yeh, here's ur fic bb:')

°•○●○•°

Pairing; s7 spencer x fem!reader 

Warnings; drunk?sex, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, (the sex scene is literal TRASH lmao dont mind me)

Word count; 1.4k (1,405)

°•○●○•°

"I'm going up." 

"What- no you're not."

"Watch me." 

And watch you he does. 

He watches the way you drunkenly sway your hips all the way to the small stage at the far side of the bar. He watches as he say your nerves slowly settle in; your palms growing sweaty, and your consistent throat clearing. 

He watches as they soon fade away when the beginning to your favorite country sing comes on. Swiping your clammy hands on your jeans, you grab the microphone, letting the song consume you, and your angelic voice fills the room. To keep the nerves away, you make eye contact with Spencer all the way at the back of the bar. 

It's just you two. Everyone else disappears as you sing to him. The room previously filled with unknown faces and blitzing bodies grows quiet.

Spencer raises his glass in your direction; an unreciprocated toast. 

You shut your eyes as the memories flow through you as the song runs on. All the times you spent with your father, grazing the fields behind your house. Picking daisies with the summer wind sweeping your hair; the sun casting a gentle warmth on your skin. The times you spent with your mother, deweeding the flowerbeds that adorned the front of your house. The last time you saw any of your family this song played. You and your parents were all piled in the front of the truck, warm summer sun engulfing you in a hug, this song playing softly on the radio as the truck bumps and bounces down the rocky dirt road. What you'd give to be back home, down south with your family, away from all the negativity of your job. 

Not that you dont love your job. You were beyond grateful for all the opportunities joining the BAU had given you; you even formed a second family with your teammates. The BAU family just wasn't the same at your own. 

All too soon, the song ends, and you're grown up again. Far away from all the blissful moments fr ok m when you were younger, back to being an adult in ty he heart of DC, drunkenly singing a country song at a karaoke bar. Reality comes flooding back as people applaud and your team goes wild. Oddly enough, Spencer's the quietest. You try to initiate eye contact with him again from your spot so far away from the table, but he averts his eyes, avoiding your gaze. You waltz back to your table and take your seat beside Spencer. 

"What's wrong lover boy?" 

"I- uh- nothing," he gulps. 

"What- did I not do good?" An overly expressive pout falls on your lips. 

"No, no no of course not. You were great! I was just thinking." 

"About what?" 

"About you."

"There's gotta be more than just me bouncin' around in your big brain," you counter with a drunken giggle. 

"Well, true, but a lot of the time it's just you." He looks at you fondly through hooded eyes, admiring your features in the cascading yellow bar light. "But to answer your question, I was thinking about how hot you looked." Your face goes flush as he continues on. "How your jeans look on you. The way you swayed your hips as you sang. All I could think about was how much I want to go home and fuck you."

"Spence, I-" 

"But sadly I can't." 

"Why?" 

"You're drunk, y/n."

"Wha- no I'm not!" You laugh and lightly shove his shoulder. 

"No sober version of you would've gotten up there and done that," he counters. 

"Touchè, Doctor Reid." 

"We can still.." 

"That's like taking advantage of you. Not tonight."

"Come onnn," you drag out in protest, and move your lips to his ear. "I want you, Spencer. You know I do." 

"We can't- you know th-" 

"I'm not getting undrunk any time soon, so the only solution to our pre-dick-ament. Ahahahaah get it? Anyways the only solution is to get you on my level, pretty boy." 

"So an even playing field makes this better?" 

"Exactly." 

His eyebrows sprung up the cute way they always do when he's thinking. "This is such a bad idea." 

He stands up from his seat excusing the both of you from the group. You grab his hand and walk steadfast to the bar. The next hour or so is spent buying spencer drinks. Conversations become slower and less coherent, and the two of you are always pushed up against each other. Most onlookers would think it's cute, but in all actuality you're both keeping each other upright. 

"I think it's time to go," Spencer says from his seat on the bar stool beside you. 

"Yeah, uh I'll go get Hotch." 

You stumble up from your seat and set on a quest to find Hotch. Spencer grabs your hand to get your attention. You look to him and he's pointing back to the tables where you all had originally been sitting. 

Makes sense. 

"Hey, Hotch!" You chirp, drumming lightly on his shoulder to get his attention. "Can you, uh, take me and Spence home. I think we've had enough."

"Yeah," he huffs. "I think you have, too. Anyone else ready to go?" 

Garcia, Emily, and JJ all shake their heads 'no', and Hotch says he'll meet them back here. The three of us head out to the SUV, and spend the next twenty minutes getting home in silence. 

"Home sweet home," you say as you begin to bask in the familiar warmth of your home. The smell of your favorite candles burning on the coffee table. Turning to Spencer, you wrap your arms around his neck and place a chaste kiss to his liquor flavored lips. 

"Y/n, we don't have to-" 

"I want to. Besides, were like the same amount of drunk right now. It's fine." You meet his eyes with a smile and a drunken giggle. 

"You're so chaotic." He quickly places his lips back on yours, and your hands fly up to tangle in his hair. Lips meet teeth and tongue as the two of you make your way further into the house; into the living room and o to the couch. 

With spencer beneath you and you on his lap the kiss continues. You begin to move yourself on his thigh causing him to groan. He plants a harsh slap on your ass, and you jump; only for him to grab your hips and pull you back down onto his thigh even harder. 

The two of you remove your clothes rather quickly. Shirts flying, pants being flung, underwear being removed haphazardly. Soon the two of you are start naked, and you're sinking down on Spencer's length. 

"Fuck," he chokes out as you engulf him. "You feel so fucking good." 

"Spence.." You throw your head back in ecstasy, and Spencer leans up, attaching his lips to your neck. He grips your hips as you rock back and forth, faster and faster with each go. 

"Jesus- fuck! I've been needing this all day," Spencer says between gasps and moans. 

"M-me too." 

Your pace over Spencer doesn't slow, and the constant friction between you too is bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You reach your hand in front of you and start to rub quick circles on your sensitive nub. 

 "Spencer, I'm gonna cum," you cry out, feeling that knot in your stomach begin to unravel.

"Gonna cum for me? Hmm? Gonna cum all over my cock?" 

"Yes- God!" 

"Go ahead, baby." On cue, you release around him; your juices flowing all over his lap. You collapse down onto him, heaving and out of breath. "Look at me.. Tongue out." You remove your face from the crook of his neck to look at him, mouth hm open wide and tongue stuck out. "Swallow," he commands after spitting onto your tongue. He then grabs your hips forcing you to move on him again; chasing his own release. Not too long afterwards, he loses his composure and crumbles beneath you as he releases inside you. 

You collapse onto his chest once again, breathing sporadic. "That was.." you begin but then trail off. 

"Yeah. It was." Spencer adds, rubbing your back. 

"Can we stay here like this? I'm exhausted." 

"We gotta get cleaned up," Spencer prompts you up off his lap before getting up himself and grasping your hand. "Let's go take a bath. We smell like sex and booze."

[straane]

Motherworld (Ch.4/?)

Title: Motherworld

Author: strane-stelle

Fandom: Final Fantasy X

Central characters: Tidus

Rating: 12+

Chapters: 4/?  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 5  Chapter 6

Word count: 2172

Summary: “The fayth said it’s pointless to keep dreaming. The dream will disappear, he said. What did he mean?” After a long journey, Tidus finally gets to go home.

Warnings: Ton of OCs; drug references; mild implicit violence and some explicit, also mild

Other comments: credit goes to @shuyiin​ for the idea.(or virtually the star player himself @leviathkand)  

Chapter 4 – Grateful

"Spira? Spira, as in...?"

Spira, as in the most miraculous place Tidus had ever known; and the most wretched. Spira, as in the tranquil waves washing over the smooth, hot sand; the long-fallen towers gazing wearily over the shore. Spira, as in men turning their heads away from the dance and picking up their hammers; children crying over the remains of their homes. Spira, as in pyreflies gathering over the rivers at nightfall.

Spira, as in a single searing tear rippling on the surface before dissolving into the cold, thick water. Spira, as in Yuna.

Spira, as in the truth; the harrowing truth.  

"Spira, as in..." Tidus stuttered. Edge was still holding him by the collar, and a layer of his skin as well; and nobody could quite bring themselves to defend him any more than he could bring himself. Perhaps nobody wanted to. The undercurrents were still swirling wildly from the confrontation; and suddenly felt chilly to the bone, even against Tidus's water-resistant uniform.

"Tidus," Teri ventured to ask, "did you have something to do with... what happened?"

Tidus had no idea how to answer. Did he? Probably.

"...Guys, I don't know what happened, but I--"

Before he could finish, everyone suddenly turned their heads as the waters shifted directions again; in the wake of a swimmer making towards the team with strong, seasoned pulls and pushes. Tidus had barely recognized the distorted underwater image of his agent, before Leo had already separated him from his assailant with a violent smack; followed with another one for good measure; grabbed Tidus by the arm, and dragged him along towards the gate.

"H-hey, Leo, wait!"

"You don't have the authority!" Edge screeched after them, but only one of them was wearing the required machinery to hear him. Leo, in the midst of all his evident perturbation, even made a mockingly confused gesture upon hearing from Tidus's earphones what must have amounted to distant mutter.  

Nobody gave chase; perhaps nobody wanted to.  

--

A consistent stream of profanities washed over Tidus as he was being towed through the corridors by one rather distressed sports agent. Still unsure as to the benevolent intentions behind the action, Tidus tried to wriggle his arm free, but to no avail – Leo had done some serious swimming in his day. And what was the point of Bern, again?

"Leo, please -- I can explain -- or at least, I think I can --"

"Shut up. Just... shut up."

At long last, Leo stopped when they reached the office segment of the building; at what looked like the most unexciting door in the hallway. He wrestled with some keys for a moment, then got tired, cursed, and kicked the door open; to Tidus's mild amazement. He gestured towards the inside, suddenly in a very devil-may-care fashion, letting go of his protégé, finally; and granting him the choice whether or not to follow him. Besides agitation and fresh indifference, there was something else about his manner – something vulnerable; almost sad. Tidus nodded at his agent knowingly before entering – even though at this point, he doubted whether he truly knew anything at all.

Miraculously, the door was still unbroken enough to close. The air in the room was extremely stuffy, and the furniture was composed of nothing besides a shabby desk, two bookshelves (oddly enough stacked with relevant-looking titles), a moth-eaten carpet with the tacky retro Abes logo, a flickering holographic poster of Jecht, and random pieces of blitz gear and field equipment scattered around. Tidus's two guesses were either a forsaken storeroom or Bern's very current office. 

“We don't have much time," Leo declared, circling the room; back to neurotic and vaguely aggressive. "Hirans'll be here any minute now."

"Wh-- wait a minute-- he's coming?" Tidus spluttered, sidetracking into indignantly wondering why no one ever told him anything. The last he'd seen of the rich buffoon, he'd showed up at a pre-Jecht Memorial Cup charity match, to get Tidus to sign a contract allowing him to sell either action figures or blitzball cards – his memory failed him here, he'd stopped collecting both when the fifth edition of the Jecht Superior series had hit the stores. He'd grudgingly signed, but Nella had not let their 'coach' off the hook so easily – she had pestered him for some game pointers and diet advice, and even opened up about some very imaginary women's troubles. Just thinking about it, Tidus still wanted to howl with laughter – and right now, cry. Cry like he finally had a good enough reason – for a very gloomy thought was looming larger and larger in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, yeah!" Leo barked in reply. "To discuss your future with the team, the entire board are on their way! It was all going fine and dandy with the evaluation until... well, you know." Tidus had never seen Leo so discomposed. It almost looked as though he was bursting out of himself, eyes first. "That happened."

"Listen," Tidus desperately began an explanation he had no idea how to accomplish, "I don't know what's going on, but--"

"I think you do, kid!" Leo fumed, now absolutely livid. Tidus's eyes grew wide at the extreme reaction, but even as he took a step back, he could tell – against his better judgement – that the agent meant no harm. And that – somehow – he was supposed to be here, at this very moment, having this very conversation with him. Even if Leo himself seemed to disagree, "On a side-note, where's your goddamn self-preservation instinct? That blasted press conference, not even trying to stand up for yourself just now... never mind getting kicked off the team, they would've--"

Tidus couldn't quite get the point of changing the subject and cut him short, "Leo, I know you don't wanna hear this, but I think those fiends are connected to Spira."

Tidus was going to try to give another shot at the ‘Spira, as in’ game, until he remembered that he had, in fact, told Leo everything – almost everything – and it was a miracle he had listened. And never in a million years could he have predicted what the man – who had grown oddly calm at his response – would say next.  

"You think... we're all connected to Spira, don't you?"

Tidus froze completely. It was a borderline surreal sight – the way Leo looked as he uttered those words; confident in his assumption, yet confused and scared of his wits. And the words struck him like lightning from a clear sky – unexpected; even absurd, but undeniably powerful. "You said,” Leo impatiently continued, “Spira has its own Zanarkand, one that's been long destroyed. Well... what does that mean for us? Are we... are we long destroyed, too?" 

Tidus could hardly believe what he was hearing, and was sorely out of answers. It was then that the notion; the one skulking in the back of his mind; finally registered: a truly horrifying scenario. He finally did have a good enough reason.

"Leo," Tidus began, a sweeping finger instinctively reaching towards his cheek, although his eyes were only dampening. "What if," he was almost shouting as the first droplet fell, "what if she went to the Farplane, Leo?!"

For some reason, Leo did not seem to require further elaboration.

"They told me... we were all just dreams. The fayth said... it's pointless to keep dreaming. The dream will disappear, they said. But the thing is..." No amount of wiping could help him at this point. "It was supposed to be me! I was supposed to disappear! I was going to go to the Farplane, I should... I should be nothing but a bundle of pyreflies by now!"

Leo was silent.

"And of course, I knew," Tidus went on, choking at every breath, "that you... my, my team... everyone here... that all of you guys-- the rest of the city-- that it would all fade as well, I knew! They told me my father... my mother, everyone; that we were all just dreams. That we would all disappear. Should I have... should I have been more sorry, should I have pitied you all more? Maybe... maybe I was too busy pitying myself, and this is how they punish me. By taking-- instead of--"  

Drying his face, hands and chest on the top of his uniform, Tidus momentarily pulled himself together. "But-- why-- how-- since when have you believed me about Spira, anyway? What if... what if that was all smoke and mirrors just now, what if I'm... y'know... using?"

"You're not," Leo shook his head, "if you were, I'd know."

"What do you mean, you'd--"

"'Cause I was!" Leo snapped back, suddenly shouting again. "And old Niel took the blame! Said he was gonna retire anyway, blah blah, I was young and I had so much promise, that dense old fart! He almost killed himself with that stunt, 'cause it 'had to look real'! I didn't even make it to the game where he 'got caught', I was so... blitzed! And kid, I can tell you're just going through the motions, but you're-- believe me, if you were pulling what I was, I'd know!"

Tidus stared at him, wide-mouthed. But it added up. Even if it forever changed his perception of Leo; the former pro-blitzer who'd abruptly quit a steady career, citing a ‘desire to pursue other interests’.

"I think Bern believes you too, you know," Leo continued. "He followed you to your house the other day, after you tried to ditch him. And he saw... it, too. Of course, he thought it was just a--- but he told me, and I thought it was just a--" Leo made a long pause, and Tidus studied him; this new bizarre version of a person he thought he'd known annoyingly well. Leo held up his both hands in concentration as he stared into nothingness and spoke, "...Sometimes, I can feel it. It's like gravity. Like I'm... like we're being pulled. Not pulled down... but up. Pulled up... into existence."

Tidus had always felt it. He could still feel it.

"And I feel," Leo added, with a sudden sense of finality, "grateful."

He raised his eyes and they exchanged somber looks. And that's when, with a strident echo; the door hit the wall once more and they both jumped.

"See? I told you."

Apparently, someone had given chase; and had some impressive tracking skills, too. It was, of course, Edge; and Arret, by the looks of it – the self-righteous senior player had always had the somewhat impressionable goalkeeper under his thumb. The three other pursuers; Frion, Riona, and Leno; were standing in the back, still seemingly making up their minds about whom they were pursuing (but certainly doing their share in blocking the exit). Teri wasn't with the group.

"Where's... where's Teri?" Tidus demanded as he observed the fact, fearing the worst for a second.

"Seems to think Nella died of natural causes," Edge replied nonchalantly, with the air of a fearless justice-campaigning hero, "and who cares?"

"Died?" Tidus echoed, fearing a new kind of worst. But judging by Edge's dismissive reaction, he was just being metaphorical – or speculative. Leo tried to extend a protective arm in front of Tidus as he stepped forward from the back, but Tidus wouldn't let him. For the first time since his return, he felt far better-equipped to handle a situation than one of his babysitters.

"We just want to know what happened to Nella," Edge pleaded with him with faux civility. Tidus surveyed him for a moment. Something told him that asking whether he felt a "pull" or introducing the concept of the Farplane were not good negotiation strategies.

Suddenly something jumped out to him. It was the blitzball that Edge was carrying on one arm and hiding partially behind his back. Tidus had never seen anything like it – in this life. But he had in another. The ball had spikes on it.

"Edge... where did you get that blitzball?"

"Oh, this?" He spun the lethal instrument on his finger. "Found it in the changing room."

Tidus narrowed his eyes in disbelief. First fiends – and now objects from the other side?

“Relax," Edge scoffed. "I'll just be holding onto this until the police get here. Oh, and I sent Hirans away, hope you don't mind."  

Tidus was starting to think perhaps Hirans was no longer a corporeal part of this world, either; what with his track record of showing up. He was also starting to get tired of this conversation. Perceiving something in his peripheral vision, Tidus quickly peered to his side and made an even quicker decision: it was time to go. He gave a slight shrug as he shot Edge an apologetic glance.

Arret seemed to notice he was up to something, and opened his mouth, but too late. With one well-timed acrobatic motion, Tidus brought his hands to the floor, kicked his legs over his body and flung himself sideways across the room and right past Leo's ineffectual safeguarding attempts; sticking a perfect landing on the desired spot, before diving headfirst for two retired pieces of crossbar on the floor, and tossing one into Leo's very reactive arms.

"A gift from me! I hope you know how to use it!"