#did I spend too much time to put this together?

[navybrat817]

Back Off, He's Mine

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.

Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.

“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”

“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”

He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”

“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.

His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.

Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”

Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.

You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.

“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.

“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”

Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.

It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.

“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”

She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”

“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.

“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.

Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.

“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”

Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.

“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”

Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.

Defending each other was second nature, always would be.

Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.

“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.

You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”

The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.

“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”

She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”

“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”

You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”

Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”

You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”

An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”

“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”

You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”

“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”

She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.

You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”

It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.

Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”

“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”

She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”

“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.

A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”

You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”

“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.

“You think she’ll back off now?”

“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”

He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”

Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.

They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.

And you couldn't wait for more.

Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gguk-n]

hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️

established relationship, not very angsty, short

My World Champion

Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.

Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.

It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.

Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.

It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.

After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.

That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.

[0mg-bird]

hii! i lovedd 'lover's rock' sososo much and would absolutely love if you'd write more about that reader & spencer's relationship! maybe the way it develops or their dynamic when they are like 100% official? anything'll do but the way you wrote reader is so unbelievably me i was absolutely eating it upp!!! i love you & your writing!

Hiiiii!!! Thank u sm !!! Lover’s Rock got so much love, here’s a part two!

My Spencer Reid requests are open!

Everybody Loves Somebody ~ S. Reid

Part II of Lover’s Rock

Spencer!Reid x Fem!Twee!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, brief smut, reader gets wine drunk with BAU women. Reid being dirty, reader being dirty. Idiots in love, omg so cute, season 6/ 7 Reid is soooooo boyfriend. Morgan thinks Reid’s gone crazy. Um yeah okay enjoy

86% of Americans believe in true love, but only 67% of them say they’ve experienced it. That’s a statistic Spencer told you once.

How lucky you are to be apart of that 67%.

How lucky you are that you didn’t settle, that you waited painfully long for it to feel right, because it feels so right.

Ever since that everything but casual hookup, it was like a stone that was always supposed to be in motion, finally started rolling. Spencer took you to dinner, a nice Italian hole in the wall because you mentioned a love of pasta, then he started to call at the end of the day just to talk, and a second date became of that. It’s like he blinked and all of a sudden you two were spending all of his free time together, watching movies, his hand in yours as you dragged him to record stores.

He seriously thinks that in the moments you’re half dressed in his bed, rambling on and on about something you think is important enough to talk about until you practically pass out, that it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up alone come daybreak.

It never happens though, he wakes and you’re curled into his ribcage like that’s where you belong.

You do, he determines.

So three months of this honeymoon dance, the words ‘I love you’ come out unexpectedly in one of Spencer’s ramblings as the breeze blows in, feeling awfully like the winter that’s coming soon. You were bundled up beside him, hand in his like it always is as he tells you about work and how Morgan is always after him about the ‘scandalous love affair’ he’s having with ‘bar room girl’. Aka you.

“They ask so many questions, it’s unbelievable the lack of privacy I have. You know what he told me?” He had asked, which you answered with “What did he tell you, handsome?” before he continued.

“He seriously asked me if I was keeping my options open just in case you turned out to be crazy, clearly he had to be joking because there are no other options. Not that I would want another option! I wouldn’t, you’re the option I’ll stick with- no not an option just, well, you’re you and I love you so I don’t really care if you turn out crazy. I’d see the signs by now anyway.”

You stopped your stride, looking up at him with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“What?” You question.

“Well I’ve been with you long enough to learn your habits and if you were crazy then-”

“No.” You stop him. “You love me?”

He faces you, realizing he had just said it. But even if he wanted to try and back track, he couldn’t, he’s smiling too wide.

“Yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” You say, watching your words click in his brain and immediately his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning over you as you laugh against his lips. Spencer doesn’t do PDA, or so he thought until he learned that it’s sometimes the only way you’ll understand his feelings and how he can’t put them into words.

You adore the sporadic behavior, getting kissed on sidewalks and trains and movie theater seats and anywhere else he thinks you’re far too beautiful in.

That’s what life has been like for six months together, madly and truly and deeply in love, deeply intimate in every word and touch and action. He goes to work and you’re the thought in the back of his mind as he crakes cases, you teach students and find yourself smiling at any free moment you have to think of when you’re going to see him next.

Now, the team has noticed the shift in their beloved Dr Reid, how he didn’t go out with them like he used to, how he spent a lot more time texting, how he’d casually mention you, but Spencer was a selfish man who wanted you to be something of only his. He shared his whole life with his team and even if they were his family, he took pride in knowing he had an escape they didn’t, which was you.

If the world got too much, you were there with your quirky outfits and strawberry lipstick to stain his cheek. You were his fix. Screw drugs, he had your laugh engraved in his head and that was far better than a needle.

That being said, there were times he was feigning, going through withdrawal all over again when he was gone for too long.

Like now. When he’s been everywhere but where you are for a week and three days just because he had back to back conferences and then fell right into a case.

He was tired and drained and felt a migraine coming on, painfully antisocial as he leaned back in the seat in the jet. Momentarily, he takes a second to breathe, then immediately digs his phone from his pocket and messages you.

He knows that you’re probably just getting home from the school day, that you’re probably sitting down at your desk to grade papers or work out lesson plans. He’s learned your routine in and out, it might be a little stalker-ish if he really thinks about it, so many cases has he worked where the unsub knows where a girl is at 4:30pm.

He’s no unsub, he just loves you enough to know everything about you.

Morgan, nosy like always, notices the way Spencer softly smiles at his phone.

“What are you grinning at, lover boy?” He asks, watching the way Spencer’s expression quickly shifts.

“Nothing.” He states, putting his phone away.

Morgan smirks. “Oh don’t be coy with me, we all know you’re dying to get home to that girl of yours.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, he opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. So he gives into it instead.

“So what if I am?” He questions, making Morgan- and Emily who is now paying attention- laugh.

“Aw, Reid, you’re all twitter-patted.” The dark haired agent says in a sweet tone.

Spencer presses his lips together and looks away.

“He’s not even trying to deny it.” Morgan tries to jab.

Only Spencer just shrugs. “Why would I try to deny it? I’m in love with her.”

The two widen their eyes.

“That’s a big word to use.” Emily hums.

“It’s a big feeling to have.” Spencer states. “You know, I’m used to feeling like I’m slowly going crazy everyday but ever since I met her, I don’t really feel it as intensely. It’s all the chemicals released in my brain I think, the dopamine and oxytocin over powers anxiety. Maybe it’s a placebo effect or something but I’ve never felt better than I do with her, so in short words, she’s cured me.”

For a moment, the two are at a loss for words, staring at their friend. It’s no negative thoughts they have, because they are overjoyed that their nerdy, awkward sidekick has finally found a match.

“I’m happy for you, Reid.” Emily smiles. “Sounds like she’s a good fit.”

Spencer, who could never speak ill about you, nods. “She’s probably the only one out there for me so yeah, she’s a good fit.”

“And you have me to thank for having her.” Morgan smirks. “Without me, you wouldn’t have approached her at the bar, you would’ve sat with your nose in that book and died alone.”

“Wow. Very encouraging.” Spencer says dryly.

“I want to meet her. I’m sure the whole team does.” Emily says, changing the subject.

“What’s that?” JJ adds in.

“Reid’s gonna introduce us to the girl who makes him leave the office at a decent hour.” Emily states before he can protest.

You aren’t going to like this idea, but the team is all talking about it like it’s the biggest news ever. He’d get you to settle and agree somehow, just so Morgan will finally see why he is so infatuated with you.

Besides, Rossi is already planning a night at his mansion for the team just so Spencer can bring you along.

- - - -

You completely lose track of the time as you continue to prepare dinner in his apartment, adding homemade sauce to pasta, cutting up seasoned chicken.

That’s probably why you don’t realize Spencer is home until he’s shutting and locking the door behind him.

He smiles in surprise as he sees you, dancing around his kitchen, hair clipped up in a messy updo, knee socks sliding around the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks, causing you to startle and flip around to face him.

Immediately, you’re joyous.

“Spence! Hi!” You rush to him.

He’s never been greeted so warmly until you, and now he can’t have anything different.

His arms encircle your waist as you clumsily throw your arms around his neck. The first words out of your mouth are ones he had never heard that often before you.

“I missed you.” You say, hugging him tight.

He pressed his nose to your hair, soothed by your citrusy shampoo. “I missed you too. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?”

You pull back only enough to see his face, your hand in his hair. It’s shorter than when you met, but it’s a good look for him.

“I know but I got impatient and figured I could surprise you with dinner. Is that okay? I suppose I could have asked. I used the key you gave me, I figured that the key meant I could stop in but I really should have asked, huh? Sorry, you know I get ahead of myself. Is this a violation of privacy-”

His lips find your rambling ones, immediately shushing you. It’s a warm welcoming feeling, something the both of you have missed terribly. You sink a little more into him, eyes shut in bliss as you slowly mold your lips with his, savoring it, deepening it.

“You being here is perfect, I gave you that key for to use. Thank you for using it.” He says closely as he pulls back, leaning his forehead to yours.

You sigh with a smile. “I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too.”

There’s a very peaceful silence for a moment, filled with your hands on his chest and your lips trailing over his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asks before you press into him again, a little deeper now.

You hum in question against his lips.

“Where are your pants?” He asks, all muttered.

He really wasn’t complaining if you decided a new fashion trend was wandering his apartment in knee socks and funky patterned boy-short underwear.

“Red wine tragedy.” You state, pushing his coat off. “The cork wouldn’t budge, I put a little elbow grease into it but the thing toppled over when it popped and it was like a crime scene. Red stain everywhere.”

He tosses the coat to the arm chair. “That answers my next question as to why you’re wearing my Lacoste shirt.”

“My clothes are in the bathroom sink, had to scrub them down, though I think they can’t be salvaged.” You frown, turning back to the dinner, reaching for your wine glass.

Spencer just stares, watching how domestic it all is. You in his clothes, making dinner.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hungry, yes. Tired, not yet. Are you staying the night?” He asks, coming behind you, kissing the top of your head as he leans to pick at ingredients and snack on them.

“Oh…do you want me to?” You question, trying to be coy like you don’t already know the answer.

“Of course I want you to.” He responds, making you chew your lip.

“Good, because my bag is already in your bedroom so it would’ve been really awkward if you said no.”

Spencer laughs, squeezing your hip in affection before he goes to clean up and get out of his work clothes. He takes a quick shower, warm water rushing over him, but he doesn’t want to be away from you for too long.

He comes out in sweatpants and a graphic shirt you’ve finally returned back to him.

The two of you sit and eat dinner and you listen to every single word he has to say before you explain your day and everything you didn’t cover in the nightly phone calls he made to you while away. It’s sometime after cleaning up, after the two of you washed dishes while bumping hips, that Spencer notices the trickle of things that have made their way amongst his belongings. Some have come over time, like a collection of cd’s, books, scarves you constantly forget to grab on your way out. Some things are new, like the makeup products in the medicine cabinet, your favorite snacks in the fridge.

“Did you move in while I was gone?” He laughs, coming to sit beside you on his couch.

Your legs immediately are tugged into his lap, his hand rubbing your calves.

“What? No.” You state, taking your hair down. “I just came by to collect your mail and put it on the coffee table …and to water your plants.”

Spencer cocks his head, looking at you in question. “I don’t have any plants, lovely.”

He watches your smile grow. “I got you some plants.” You say with a giggle.

That explains the golden pathos on the television stand and the small fiddle leaf fig by the window.

He thinks it’s charming, endearing. He noses your hair line, drawing you closer to him. “I no longer live alone, it seems.” He hums.

“Does that bother you?” You question, leaning your head into the space between his collar and jaw. The perfect you size space.

Spencer is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head and speaks something into existence that he probably should have taken more than a second to think over.

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, I think I want you to move in. Permanently.”

Why should he have to think about it? It’s you, he wants you around 24/7. You could be his home, you could greet him like this always, your perfume could linger around like a friendly ghost.

“Is that a joke? I know you have an odd sense of humor.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

Spencer smiles gently, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “No joke. I want you to be here with me all the time, I’m selfish like that.”

“You aren’t selfish.” You scoff playfully, but your expression quickly turns into one of concern. “But-but are you sure? I’m probably not a good roommate, I can be messy and I sleep weird hours. And I leave wet towels on the floor a lot, and sometimes forget to put the toothpaste away.”

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll pick up the towels and put the toothpaste away.”

You continue to fuss. “But what about all of my things? I have a lot of stuff, you’d have to move things around and you’d get sick of all my shoes in your closet.”

“I don’t have much in my closet as it is, I’m fine with sharing. I’ll get another bookcase for your books.”

“But-”

He cradles your face in his hands. “But I love you and I’d be happy to trip over your heels forever. Now, do you want to move in or not? You can say no.”

You don’t want to say no.

“Your apartment is bigger than mine…and your shower has better water pressure.” You slowly say, cheeks still squished slightly between his palms.

Spencer begins to break out in a grin, but he lets you finish.

“And I could get to work faster…and I like the thought of never having to go back to my apartment for clean clothes.” Then you pause and look back up to his eye. “It would be nice to share something with you besides my entire heart and body and soul.”

How dare you say something so loving and honest, and just sit there like you were always meant to say these sort of words to him. Spencer is going to be love sick his entire life, he has no back bone, he is not a man but your man and this is all he has ever wanted. He starts to nod with starry eyes, slowly bringing his face closer to yours. “So?” He presses.

“So yes, I want to move in!” You say in a gleeful tone, throwing your arms around his neck as you rush a kiss to him.

You can’t help the cheerful laugh that leaves you, it makes it hard to kiss when Spencer is doing the same thing, completely at your will as you nudge him to shift and lay down on the cushions, you falling on top of him.

This is usually how it goes.

Someone makes a small move and then both of you get carried away. Neither of you ever seem to mind. You could spend an hour kissing and doing nothing else, but you haven’t felt the heat of him in ten days and nights, so you’re hungry for the breath in his lungs and the electricity in his fingers.

Spencer’s hands start to wander as you sit on his hips, kissing him slow and deep. They smooth up your thighs, over your underwear and up your back. Your mind is always as good as blank whenever those hands are on you.

“I’m never leaving again.” He declares, trying to work on the buttons of his shirt that you wear.

You sit up to help him. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen, I only ever want to be here.”

You push the fabric off, leaving you in your lacy bra that he thinks is almost too pretty to take off.

Almost.

“Right here? On your couch?” You question sarcastically, fingers in his hair as he sits up to taste the skin of your neck.

“Yes, on my couch, about to show you how much I missed you.” He clarifies.

It’s blissful and exciting, how he ends up between your thighs, giving you relentless pleasure with no indication that he’s ready for you to return the favor. He’d stay like this all night if you wanted, tongue on nerves, fingers drawing out pretty noises from your blushed lips. It’s because it’s as good as breathing, having you reacting the way you do, tasting you in the most intimate way.

“Spence, baby.” You whine, legs threatening to shut.

He’s working you up, pushing you closer to the edge, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. Your hand tightens in his hair, holding him close as you plead for your finish. There’s no need to beg, Spencer would give this to you all day long.

When you do get to that point, it’s throwing you into another existence momentarily. A rather desperate moan frees from your throat, your head digging into the arm of the couch. It makes you feel warm and shaky. You have to blink harshly for your vision to clear.

“I- mmm.” You hum as he comes up to kiss you, it’s sinful the way you taste yourself on his tongue. “I think you’re the most perfect person in the history of persons.”

Spencer chuckles. “I’d correct your grammar but I don’t think your minds working at full speed right now.”

It’s true, everything is slow and fuzzy, yet you still find the urge to ask for more.

“We don’t have to.” He says, wanting to make sure you don’t feel obligated.

You never do, your drive just happens to be something he marvels at. In all actuality, he’s learned that he can match your pace, so it’s always fine. The two of you could spend nights on end falling into each other, either softly or with a hunger.

Tonight is probably one of those nights.

That’s how it seems when he has you in the bedroom after taking you on the sofa.

It’s your shared apartment now, he could probably have you on every available surface. But he has you in his sheets, teeth dragging across his skin, bare and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sex is never just sex with Spencer, even when it feels like it. Like when he comes straight to your apartment after a bad day and you offer yourself as a cure. It’s never just using each other, it’s all feeling and praise and making sure the other is reassured and happy. It’s nerves on fire and constantly stroking those deep, hidden parts of heavy pleasure inside each other that have never been brought to life. There’s borders pushed, you just let it happen because there is no way you’d ever want to say no and deny yourself the feeling of what he does to you. He has you arching with an empty head thrown back against the pillow as your tongue goes lame and you can no longer properly tell him how amazing it feels. Spencer has an idea, given the way you shudder and make the most criminal and attractive sounds he’s going to be replaying in his mind forever.

You learn a lot about care in the moments following bliss. Spencer could be compared to an animal of prey, the way he comforts without question, wipes tears from your face and does anything you ask of him.

“Hey.” He calls softly, leaning up on his side, watching you with your messy hair sprawled on the pillow. “You still with me, angel?”

You hum, head feeling heavy as you turn it to face him. You’re there…most of you is.

You suck on your bottom lip like you always tend to do, not needing words as you nod.

His hand reaches for your cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin. “Overwhelmed?” He asks in an intimate tone, one he only uses with you.

You curl yourself closer to him. “A lot of feelings…I feel a lot.” You jumble, brows furrowed as you try to get power back to your limbs.

He hums, understanding, adjusting to hold you. “It’s the endorphins.” He speaks. “You have a high release of them during sex, then it all comes crashing down post orgasm. Your body’s trying to regulate your dopamine, because you got a thousand milligram shot of it basically, and now the high is coming to an end.”

You love it when he proves just how smart he is. It’s also insanely hilarious if you think about it, because he was just leaving bruises on your thighs as he pushed deep inside of you over and over, and now he’s explaining the science behind everything he made happen for you. To say the least, you were insanely in love with how much of a nerd he is.

“I feel good though. Not sad or anything…just sensitive.” You breathe out, somehow your voice trembles and squeaks, nudging closer to his skin like you need it pressed to yours or you won’t live.

“What do you need?” He asks in concern, tightening his arms around you like a weighted blanket.

You could cry. You won’t, but you could at the way he’s so caring and gentle. In what life do you do good enough in order to deserve him?

This one.

Shifting to see him face to face, your hand rests on his jaw, your thumb brushing the stubble there, and then traces to his upper lip. You like when he doesn’t shave, it makes him look more mature.

“I just need you.” You tell him, continuing your slow rubbing motions. It’s all you can say because you’re not sure he’ll understand that you have the urge to be wrapped in his skin and bones entirely, like you could just absorb into him and be your happiest.

Spencer knew in all of those years of awkward strike outs and getting ignored, that when the day came when he’d have a you to tell him sweet things and caress gently, he’d have to recognize the feeling. He’d have to be aware that this was a gift and to not be blind to the fact in front of him. The fact being that he has someone to love who loves him back just the same, and now he has to use that fact in every choice moving forward.

‘Honeymoon’ months have come and gone and though the two of you did argue once in a blue moon, things were great and were going to stay great.

He thinks a lot about this as he stares at his book page, leaned back in a chair next to the sill of the tub you reside in. Warm water relaxes you, scented bath soap makes your skin smell fresh.

You’re watching your painted toes pop up from the water, perfectly content with his hand twisting a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I like my bedsheets…they’re soft and broke in.” You say promptly.

“I’ll take my sheets off the bed, you can put yours on.” He tells you.

You turn the hot water dial on and off with your foot quickly. “You’ll let me put my stockings in your sock and underwear drawer?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t laugh at me when I come to bed in nightgowns because I spent way too much money at a 1960’s lingerie store?”

“Did you really do that?” He asks, looking down at you, taking better notice of your hair as he does.

You must have given yourself a trim again, your bang part isn’t straight. You’re always changing your hair on the whim and it’s never perfect, but it always looks great on you.

“I was really bored while you were gone.” You exclaim. “The girls and I went shopping and I somehow ended up with lace teddy’s in four different colors.”

“Which colors?”

“Yellow, pink, blue and purple.”

“I like purple.” He nods.

You smile, then turn over to gaze up at him, arms resting on the edge of the tub. “I love you.”

He looks away from the inked words on the page and to you, resting your cocked head on your folded arms. “I love you too.” He says, leaning down and kissing your temple.

Then he drops the bomb.

“Oh, we’re going over to Rossi’s and you have to meet the team.”

“Now!?” You panic.

“No, no, angel.” He laughs.

- - - -

“My hair.” You fuss.

“You’re beautiful.” Spencer reminds, leading you to the escalator after you get off the metro.

You’ve made every excuse in the book not to go tonight, you’ve worried yourself sick about absolutely nothing.

“Is Rossi really rich?” You ask, wrapping your arm around him as he crowds your space on the moving stairs, hand on your waist, not minding one bit at how you shrink into him as he faces forward.

“Extremely rich, actually. Sometimes I think I should write a book or two and live his lifestyle.” He tries to joke, but you merely groan.

“I should’ve worn different boots, nicer ones.” You sat into his sweater vest.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks.

“These are my nicest boots!” You protest, and Spencer just laughs because he knew that’s exactly what you’d say.

He likes that fact, that he knows you well enough to predict the words from your perfect mouth.

His hand rubs your hip, feeling the thick material of your coat. “Your shoes aren’t going to make them love you, honey, they’re going to love you because you’re you.”

A frown pouts at your red stained lips despite the way you swoon over his sweet words. Spencer is always good at stringing together terms of endearment to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, I’m me, and people tend to not like me for obvious reasons.”

He doesn’t like those words coming from your mouth.

“I like you.” He chimes.

“Yes but you’re weird.”

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend who just put together a brand new bookcase for your things.”

You smile now, still clinging to him as the two of you head up to the night street. You’ll get a cab and you’ll be unsteady all the way to Rossi’s mansion of a home.

“I’m scared.” You squeeze his hand, staring at the iron door knocker.

Spencer squeezes back. “They pick on me, but they won’t pick on you. Besides, if you want to impress Rossi, just say a few things in Italian and tell him about your year abroad.”

“Vuoi fare sesso con me?”

His brows draw. “What’s that mean?”

You bite your smile. “Something I really can’t say to your boss.”

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door.

This is the end. They’ll hate you, you’re sure of it and then Spencer will break up with you because his team will tell him he should ditch you and-

“Reid! You’re finally here!” An older man opens the door, dark hair slicked back, maintained facial hair, gold chain. He quickly ushers the two of you inside.

When his attention is turned to you, he is warm and inviting, introducing himself as David, calling you Italian terms of endearment, leading you to his living room after taking your coat.

The team- more like a family- is all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand and laughing.

You’re thrown into the mix and come to realize you made it all up in your head.

The wine helps.

While the others are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Spencer Reid who doesn’t shake hands is showing signs of PDA, the girls who have been plotting for some time are pulling you away from him.

Spencer watches your eyes widen and he opens his mouth to suggest that maybe it’s not the best idea but Morgan sits him back down.

That’s how you end up in the guest bathroom with a bottle of wine and three women who ask you question and question. And as the four of you get tipsier and tipsier, all nerve is lost.

“We moved in together.” You say after handing the bottle to Penelope.

The three exclaim in surprise.

“He never tells us anything.” JJ frowns, possibly the most lightweight of them all.

Emily, who you learn gets more buzzed off of energy than anything, snickers a bit. “Sorry, I just got the image in my head of Reid sleeping in a twin size bed next to yours.”

The rest of you join her laughter.

“We share a bed.” You state, wondering why you thought these women were going to be monsters.

“Aw does he wear his pajamas and night cap too?” Penelope giggles. “Oh! Oh! Does he snore?”

She proceeds to imitate a very fake yet cute way of snoring.

“No, no. You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. He-he’s very normal, no striped pajamas, no oil lamp-”

“Ha! Oil lamp, that’s a good one.” JJ snorts.

“-just normal night routines, normal sex life, normal-ish sleep schedule.”

The three pause and you don’t even realize what you’ve given them.

“Normal sex life?” Emily questions, leaving you to drink from the bottle in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said normal sex life.” Penelope presses.

“Oh…yeah.” Your cheeks go red.

The three cringe.

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah, there’s no way Reid has a sex life and I don’t.”

“I’m never gonna get this image out of my head.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Spencer is getting a similar interview.

“You love her?” Rossi asks with a proud smile.

“I do.” Spencer nods.

“She’s going to be moving in next.” Hotch jokes, fully being satire.

“No, she’s already done that. I’m going to marry her next.”

The men freeze and their eyes widen.

Their Spencer Reid, the young genius with a funny haircut who was just 24, is sitting here now talking about marriage.

“You’re too young for that, kid.” Rossi states, the others seeming to agree.

Only Spencer has thought of this for countless nights. Sure, he isn’t going to marry you tomorrow but he is going to marry you.

“I’m thirty, that’s a very average time for a man to marry. Besides, why would I push it off? I’m not waiting to be sure if she’s the one, I already know that.” He says like it’s so simple.

There’s no reasoning with him because he already has his reasons. The men realize this and accept it, because who were they to try and damper his mood? Everybody loves somebody, and Spencer finally fits that description.

- - - -

Crash

“I broke your plant.” You frown, stumbling over your feet, clinging onto Spencer as he pulls you through the apartment.

“That’s alright, it was more your plant than mine.” He reassures, trying to get you to the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn’t have left you with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia for that long. Now all three of you were wine drunk. He’s just grateful he only has to take care of you. Emily passed out on Rossi’s couch, Morgan was trying to wrangle Penelope when the two of you left.

“Your friends are nice.” You slur, hair in your face as he flicks on the bathroom light and sits you on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, real nice.” He huffs, pulling your hair up into a bun before going to grab your toothbrush.

“You’re mad?” You frown, mouth opening as he starts to brush your teeth for you.

Spencer looks down at you, one hand holding your chin while the other works the brush back and forth. “No, angel, never at you.” He reassures.

Once that task was tackled and he helps remove your makeup, he supports you all the way to the bedroom where he sits you in the bed and crouches to unzip your boots and pull them off.

Your eyes squeeze shut in hopes to get rid of the blur, and you yelp as he tugs your stockings down too roughly on accident. As your head hits the mattress, you erupt in a fit of giggles. Spencer can only apologize with a smile and kiss your knee.

“You’re taking my clothes off.” You state the obvious.

“Yes, I am.” He says, sitting you up after he pulls off your skirt to pull your sweater over your head.

“Careful now, I’m a married woman.” You joke, pulling at his sweater vest.

“Oh, are you?” He questions, pushing your hands away. The action draws a childish whine to escape you.

“No, sadly I’m not. I’m a spinster.” You sigh.

“That’s not what that means, lovely.” Spencer laughs.

“Doesn’t matter! Take off your clothes.” You whine and pull at the sweater again.

“Hey, I’m trying to get you ready for bed.” He dodges your advances once more, though it’s hard when you’re begging for a kiss.

Spencer kisses your nose and then goes to the dresser to retrieve a t shirt to slide on you when you’re just down to your underwear.

“I want a real kiss.” You frown, refusing to get in bed until you get it.

Spencer leans to softly peck your lips, once, twice, three times.

“Get in bed, I’ll get you some water.” He says, pulling back and motioning to the pillows.

With an audible humph, you do your best to crawl to your spot and slide into the sheets that came from your old apartment.

Spencer returns quickly with a glass of water, sets it on your bedside table and proceeds to get changed himself, well aware of your gaze.

“Spencer?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“You should make me your wife, I’d be a good one.”

He looks over at you, mostly covered in darkness accept for the light coming in from the window. You look so peaceful, watching him with love, saying the most perfect things.

“I know you would, pretty girl.” He smiles.

You’re satisfied with that answer.

Patting the empty space, you beckon him to your side, wanting to be tangled together. Spencer comes to his side of the mattress, the side closest to the door, and slips under the covers and helps you adjust into him.

Mostly incoherent, you speak. “We could get married, I could change my last name to Reid and we’d be the smartest couple around, you and me.”

Spencer hums, lying on his back as you nuzzle into his chest. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“I won’t ever ask for a divorce either, I wouldn’t even spend all your money.”

“Is that what you think wives do?”

You shrug. “That’s what my dad says about my mom.”

Kissing your head, he beckons you to go to sleep and you could continue this conversation another time.

“…Take your clothes off.” You say, shut eyes and mischievous smile.

“No, go to sleep.”

[thebestsetter]

This is exactly what you both needed after a tough week.

Just you and your boyfriend of two years, Oliver Aiku, spending an afternoon together with no prying eyes, nosy reporters or loud teammates to interfere. Just you and him and him and you, cuddling the day away and talking nonsense with eachother.

You were also talking about something serious tho. Something very serious: your future together.

"And then we can have a dog- no, a cat" you smiled, tracing his nose with one of your hands and booping it

"Why not both?" He grabbed your hand that just messed with his nose and held it firmly, kissing the inner part of your arm and then caressing the part where he laid his lips with his thumb. "I think we'll have space for both at our mansion"

"Sure" you laughed, burying your face in between his neck and shoulder "But I'll only move in with you after marriage"

"What? Why?" He fake-panicked, and then sighed in relief "Good thing I'm planning to put a ring on your finger very soon"

You hid your face deeper, trying (and failling) to hide the blushing mess you just became

"Good." You smiled, kissing his cheek

"Honestly, darling" he began, looking at you with only pure, raw love in his eyes "I can't wait to be able to call you Mrs. Oliver"

You felt like a silly lovesick girl, giggling and all that. You just loved your boyfriend too much, and you also couldn't wait to be called...

Wait.

Hold up.

Hold the fuck up.

"What" you raised your head in disbelief and stared at him dead in the eyes "What did you just say?"

"What's wrong?" He asked, confused "You don't want to get married to me?"

"No!" You shouted, making him pout "No... I mean, it's not that. It's just that... what's your first name?"

"Aiku"

"So your family name is..."

"Oliver??" He asked, confused

But you weren't confused. Oh no no.

You were having the time of your life. You were delighted. In fact, you were so awestruck at the information you just discovered that your instant reaction was laugh.

It started of as a giggle, and then it became a strong, loud roar.

"...I don't get it" Aiku said

"HAHAHAHAHH OLIVER"

You were literally crying. You couldn't explain why, but it was just too funny

After almost 5 minutes just laughing, you felt Aiku pushing you off of him

"Wow. Okay." He said, getting up from the couch "You wounded me."

"W-where are you going?" You said, wiping away some tears

"To the side hoes" he answered with an angry pout on his face "I bet they'd be delighted to be Mrs. Oliver"

"We both know damn well you don't have those after you started dating me..." he raised an eyebrow at that "...right?"

"Believe whatever you want. I'm going away since you hate me and don't want to marry me."

"Hey! Come back!" You also got up, quickly running to him and hugging his back "Babe, I'm kidding. I'd love to be Mrs. Oliver"

"...really?"

"Yes!" He turned around, now facing you with a serious expression "I'd love to be your wife, babe. Even if I have to be known as Mrs. Oliver. I don't mind, as long as I'm with you"

He seemed to ignore the last part, since he smiled hard after you said that.

"Well then, don't mind if I ask you to marry me right now!" he said, hugging you and spinning you around, earning a smile from you

"But our kids are definitely gonna get my surname" you added

"Hey!" He scowled playfully "Take that back right now!"

"Nope"

"Well then... you shall suffer the consequences of your words!"

"Aiku, babe, what are you talking about... don't."

"Watch me." He said, running after you and trying to tickle you

Your laughs echoed through the whole building. Maybe this is what love looked like. Maybe loving someone was making sacrifices for them.

Maybe that's why, 1 year later, you did get the Oliver family surname. And maybe that's why you wore it proudly, even if it was kinda silly: it meant you loved someone, and they loved you back. What's to be ashamed in that?

Your kids really got your family name though. Lucky them!

~ A/N: Random idea. WHY IS HIS NAME AIKU.

Masterlist

[aplaceinme]

For @tommygiving

Tommy parks his truck and turns the engine off. He has been smiling since he woke up this morning, knowing that he is going to spend the entire day with Evan. 

Before getting out of the car, he looks in the rearview mirror and fixes his hair. Evan likes to pull on his curls so Tommy has gotten to wear it a bit longer than he normally would. Once he is satisfied with the way he looks, he turns and just as he is about to open the door, he sees Evan exiting his building and bouncing towards him.

As always, Evan looks amazing, he is wearing a blue sweater that makes his eyes pop, and some black jeans that accentuate his big and strong thighs perfectly. He also seems to be in a hurry, since in no time at all he is opening the passenger side door. 

“Good morning, gorgeous!” Evan greets him, leaning over and giving him a way too short for Tommy’s liking kiss.  

“Good morning, love!” Tommy replies. “I was about to go up… I always go up. Are you that excited to go to the supermarket?” 

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I even have my clipboard, see?” Evan says, waving the clipboard for emphasis. 

Tommy chuckles. “I can see that. Ok then, let’s go!” 

—

“Are you sure you are ok?” Tommy asks for the second time. 

“What? Yes, I’m ok… why? Don’t I look alright?” Evan asks in a slightly hysterical way. “I’m alright!”

Tommy raises one eyebrow in disbelief. “Evan, you have been all fidgety and acting all nervous since… since you got in the truck, actually. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Evan says, not so convincingly. 

“Evan,” Tommy sighs. “Look, you do know that I don’t care about the food or the decorations or anything like that, right? You don’t need to put too much pressure on yourself to try to host the perfect Thanksgiving… it will be perfect no matter what because we are going to be spending it together. And that’s all I want.” 

Evan’s posture relaxes minimally, his eyes go as soft as the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re right, it will be perfect because we will be together.” 

They share a sweet but short kiss, both aware that they are in the middle of a supermarket with lots of people desperately buying all kinds of stuff for Thanksgiving. 

“Should we see if we are lucky enough to find a turkey?” Tommy asks as he intertwines their fingers and starts to move across the aisle. 

“Turkey?” Evan yelps. 

Tommy stops walking and turns to look at him in surprise and confusion. “Yes? I mean… Aren’t we having turkey?” 

Evan ducks his head, rubs at the back of his neck, and starts to drag the tip of his shoes along the ground. 

“Evan?” 

“Well… I was thinking that maybe… just maybe! We could go vegan this time?” Evan asks sheepishly.

“Oh! Uhhh, yeah, sure, ok. We can do that if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah? Awesome! Thank you,” Evan says, beaming. 

If Tommy hadn’t been blinded by Evan’s beautiful smile, and by the way it made his eyes sparkle, he would have noticed that in his enthusiasm Evan had started to walk backwards, right into a display of canned cranberry sauce. As it is, Tommy is too late to fully stop him. He grabs him by the arm and tries to pull him away but by then Evan has already lost his balance and he ends up falling over the cans and pulling Tommy along. 

“Oh my god!” Evan mumbles, on the floor and covered in cranberry sauce. “Ouch.”

In the same position as him, Tommy nods, agreeing, “Yeah… ouch.” 

“Are you guys ok?” One of the supermarket workers asks them, looking down at them. 

“Peachy,” Tommy mutters.

“I’m so, so sorry! I can’t believe I did this! It was a mistake… I’m so clumsy sometimes,” Evan says apologetically while sitting down slowly. 

“It’s ok. It happens, not that often, but it happens,” Susan, as her name tag reads, says. “Are any of you hurt?”

“No, just embarrassed,” Evan replies. 

“Tomorrow… that’s when we will be feeling it,” Tommy groans, standing up and giving a hand to Evan. 

“Should we clean it up?” Evan asks hesitantly. 

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Susan reassures him. “The facilities are near the bakery section, by the way.” 

They thank Susan and go to the bathroom to wash a little bit of the sauce. 

“This is not going well,” Evan complains. 

“Don’t worry about it… think about it this way, it will be a funny story to tell everyone,” Tommy says, helping Evan with cleaning his lovely curls. 

“No one will know about this, Tommy. No one!” 

Tommy laughs and kisses him on the cheek. “Alright, my lips are sealed. Should we continue with the shopping?”

“Ugh, yes! We don’t really have any other choice,” Evan says, pouting. 

—

Evan starts to get fidgety again once they are back in the truck and driving to his loft. 

“Hey! We’ve got all the ingredients you need, right? It will be great, I know it,” Tommy tries to reassure him, his hand reaching over from the steering wheel and grabbing one of Evan's hands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Evan gives him a barely there smile that is not fooling anybody. 

The nervousness and fidgeting get worse as they approach Evan’s door. He even takes his time opening it, doing it as slowly as possible. As soon as he opens it, though, he pulls Tommy inside and quickly closes and locks the door. 

Completely bewildered by the action, Tommy puts the groceries down. “Evan, what is go- what the hell is that?” 

There, by the loft window, is a cage. A cage with a turkey in it. A very much alive turkey. 

“It’s a turkey,” Evan replies too casually. 

“A tur- a turk… why do you have a turkey?” Tommy asks him, beyond confused. He even pinches his arm, trying to see if he is having a weird dream. Or maybe he got concussed when they fell in the supermarket. 

“So, funny story,” Evan starts. “You see, yesterday, we had a call to this place and this dude had an illegal turkey.” 

Tommy blinks once, twice, but he remains confused. “Ok? That doesn’t explain the turkey in your loft though.” 

“Right… the thing is that the dude was trying to get him to fight, sort of like cockfighting, you know? So, he is quite aggressive.”

“How aggressive?” Tommy asks, taking a step back.

He is suddenly having flashbacks of when they had responded to that call with Maurice… he shivers all over. 

“Quite a lot, unfortunately. That’s why I begged Bobby to let me take him to one of the farm sanctuaries or a center where they rehabilitate animals,” Evan tells him with a bright smile. 

Tommy doesn’t know where to start. “And Bobby just said yes?”

“Well, I had to be really convincing, say that I was afraid that Alex here would end up getting killed, and I might have also said that I was going to take him to a farm yesterday,” Evan says, blushing but shrugging his shoulders. “But I was too tired and today I already had plans with you… so I will take him tomorrow.”

“Ok, so you aren’t actually planning to keep him, then?” Tommy asks, extremely relieved, and ignoring the fact that of course already named the turkey. 

Evan opens his mouth but gets interrupted by Alex gobbling, startling them both.

“Jesus, that’s loud,” Tommy says, resisting the urge to cover his ears. 

“He is, which is why I was hoping that we could keep him in your house? I’m not allowed to have pets here,” Evan asks, looking adorable, peering at him through his eyelashes. 

Sighing in resignation, Tommy nods. One day he will be able to say no to Evan, but today is not that day. 

[elizabethsnuts]

Would you okay to write a little something with baby!Reid wanting to wear matching bows/hair clips with Spencer? 🎀💕

Christmas Bows

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Spencer lets the two of you wear matching bows for your daycare Christmas party.

———

Your daycare was having a little Christmas party before the Christmas break, parents could come along as well and Spencer wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity to spend more time with you. He had taken a day off, apparently, it was just a day of paperwork and case files so he wasn’t missing much.

Spencer was getting you ready, the theme was, of course, Christmas, so you had to wear something festive. He had put you in a green and red dress, the only cute Christmas dress in the baby aisle, the rest were an eye-sore. He carefully tied your tuff of hair up with a red bow, making sure not to pull out your baby hairs.

Your tiny face lit up as you saw yourself in the mirror, wondering who the pretty baby was that was staring back at you. You pointed to the reflection and giggled. “Pretty!”

Spencer chuckled, holding your tiny torso so you were standing on the bathroom counter and getting to see your reflection in the mirror better. “That’s you! You're the pretty baby! You are a very pretty girl.”

You just babbled in response, bobbing down to rummage your tiny hands through the box filled with your hair clips and bows. Spencer was still holding you steady, making sure you weren’t going to fall. You picked up a hair clip with a red bow attached to it, just like the one you were wearing. You held it up to Spencer, showing it to him before sliding it into his hair loosely. “Dada.”

Spencer smiled and looked at you, clearly understanding the want for him to match with you. “Oh, I see! Okay, we’ll match. Daddy has to get festive too.” He fixed the clip in his hair, making sure it clipped to his hair properly and stayed in place.

You smiled at the sight, reaching back into the box and pulling out another bow, this one now green. You slipped it through his hair just like you did the other one, giving your tiny hands a gentle clap.

Spencer was a bit impressed that you were able to know and pick out Christmas-themed hair clips, though he wasn’t surprised, you were his mini-genius after all, just like him. “Oh, a green one with the red! Good job, we’re looking very festive.”

Spencer had got the two of you to your daycare on time for the Christmas party, of course he did, he was never late. One of your daycare teachers had come over to greet both of you. “Hello, Y/N! And hello to you too Mr Reid. Don’t you guys look very Christmasy?” She said with a smile, gesturing to the two of you.

You just gave your teacher a cute little wave, giggling as you saw the bows in Spencer’s hair again. You of course just wanted to show everyone you were matching with your daddy. “Daddy match.”

The teacher chuckled softly, running her hand over your hair, making sure to keep it neat and not move the bows. “I see! You guys are matching! You two look amazing, we love seeing all the Christmas colours don’t we, Y/N?”

You nodded eagerly, touching the red bow in Spencer’s hair. You got very excited about Christmas colours because your class had been learning about them these past couple of weeks. “Daddy, ‘Christmas…”

Spencer smiled, hoisting you a bit higher on his hip so you could touch the clips in his hair. He looked at you softly. “It is Christmas soon! 14 days to be exact, how exciting!” He turned to your teacher. “She picked the colours out herself.”

The teacher's smile widened as she heard that, she knew you were quite an intelligent little girl. “You did? You’re so smart! They definitely go with the festive Christmas theme!”

You had a blast at your Christmas party, mainly because you had your daddy there with you. The two of you made Christmas cookies together, cards and hats as well as Christmas ornaments. Of course, you always kept your matching bows on and showed them off to your little friends, saying that you and Spencer were ‘matchy-matchy’. You loved your dad more than anything in the world, and you were the light of his life. The idea of wearing matching bows didn’t seem awkward but instead was filled with his love for you, and how proud he was that you were his daughter.

[freak-phone]

treated myself to filling out an oc questionnaire today! answers under the cut if you'd like to read a very very long infodump about him.

1- Introduce them!

you know him...

friendly and well-meaning, but often tactless. tendency to provoke others.

tries to act laid back and upbeat most of the time. his default expression is a smile! (truthfully, he's pretty sensitive and moody.)

seemingly compulsive need to get himself into trouble. He's smart, but he acts and speaks before he thinks too often for it to do him much good most of the time. His self confidence and tendency to run his mouth frequently blows up in his face.

2 - What are their mannerisms like?

He's a weird guy. he tries to give the first impression of being laid back, but he's a very naturally restless person. Has an anxious energy about him. I play dnd over discord so this doesn't come across haha but I always picture him fidgeting a lot, he can never quite sit still.

3 - Do they have a signature move or spell?

Bestow Curse my beloved. he has such bad luck it's contagious.

4 - How do they fight? If they use magic, how does it look or feel like?

He's not very much of a fighter, so his spell kit is more focused on utility and crafty, unconventional use of magic. Aside from that, I picked spells based on what would be funniest for a seemingly normal nerdy office worker to have, since that's his backstory. picturing a guy like this holed up in his office practicing Crown Of Madness for fun.

5 - How did they join their party?

Someone from the fae realm 'bought' his life and bodysnatched him, and is currently living his life while he's stuck in their place.

6 - Why are they travelling together?

He & 4 others stuck in the fae realm seemingly as punishment for being bad people have to help each other because they're literally chained to each other <:)

7 - favorite party member?

his new best friend, mikhail the hitman who he's only a little bit scared of. :) (& who belongs to @captainharlock) Valdes initially just strategically allied himself with the scariest person he's currently stuck with out of fear, but now they're besties. have some silly drawings of them

8- role in the party?

The nice/most selfless/most worried about others' wellbeing one, I guess? Which is saying incredibly little because they're all pretty bad people.

9- personal goal on their journey?

To get control of his life back, after spending years throwing it away in a self-destructive spiral. reality check via being trapped in fae purgatory torture world

10/11 - What do they believe in? Do they follow their heart, mind or instincts?

I nerf him being smart by making him incredibly swayed by his feelings, plus being very poorly emotionally regulated lol. His heart will always win in the end, and it's usually a bad thing.

12 - How much of their true self do they show to others?

Tough question! He's very evasive about his true feelings and keeps the 'real him' under many layers of pretend, but he just isn't very subtle and always telegraphs what he's really thinking if you know how to look for it. the homie whose carefree smile betrays a profound sadness and deep internal unrest etc

13 - What is one thing your character has lied about?

He didn't exactly lie about working for a crime syndicate, but he sure didn't bring it up willingly.

14 - Does your character feel powerful?

He knows he's a powerful wizard, even moreso with becoming a genasi, but power isn't something he thinks about a lot. Especially with his genasi abilities; he feels more at odds with them than really in control of them.

15 - Does your character feel important or like a nobody?

The funny thing about him is he does have such… main character shit going on (genius betrayed by shady branch of the government, got magic powers in a freak near-death incident, etc) but he feels like such a loser deep down and has such stupid, near-sighted priorities that most of that usually doesn't matter. He's not putting his intellect or freaky powers to good use. He's gotta go gamble and make his life worse. He pisses me off so bad

16 - What is love like for your character?

Seriously though, he is a huge romantic at heart, and even with non-romantic love is a very affectionate person. He's very nearly a great partner... but he's got a bad habit of sabotaging relationships when he gets too comfortable in them.

17 - What is hate like for your character?

he has a surprising mean streak, but it's usually defensive, with people he feels he's been hurt by first. (even if the opposite is true in reality.) He'll ruminate and hold a grudge forever. GET WELL SOON.

18 - Could your character become evil?

Maybe not entirely evil. He's pretty easily manipulated and has already been roped into a lot of bad lifestyle decisions because they're fun or personally fulfilling to him, but he's got a very strong moral compass (and sense of guilt) under it all. He believes in doing the right thing. Or at least the least bad thing.

19 - Does your character believe in fate?

He largely lives his life ruled by a belief in it. If he convinces himself everything bad that happens to him is part of some bigger picture, he worries about it less.

20 - Do they thrive in chaos or order?

He's a chaotic person by nature. Some structure evens him out, but too much of it becomes stifling.

21 - How do they calm themselves down when angry or nervous?

Valdes does not know how to stress manage. Like, at all. There's been an occasion where he's used the spell Sleep on himself to get himself to stop freaking out.

22 - What would they be like if nothing bad ever happened to them?

Not himself. Not much happier.

23 - Who hurt your character the most?

24 - Who loves/loved your character the most?

Somebody loved him so much that he nearly ruined both of their lives about it.

25 - Who do they love the most?

He's closest to his sister.

26 - What is a lie your character tells themselves?

27 - is there something your character would give their life for?

He's mister 'disguising chronic suicidal tendencies as selflessness and a martyr complex'. his friends have had to make him promise not to get himself killed/kill himself like twice already. He sees himself as disposible, and it's almost more of a self important thing than a self deprecating one. He's convinced there will be the perfect circumstances for him to throw himself on the blade in a way that will save everybody and be a net positive, instead of the unfortunate truth that he'd be hurting the people he cares about.

28 - how does your character feel about death?

Again, chronically suicidal. Being the way he is now as the result of a botched attempt has definitely complicated his feelings on it, though.

29 - What do you wish for them right now?

SIGH. I JUST DON'T KNOW.

30 - What would a happily ever after be for your character?

That's a secret :). I will say though I've gotten pretty attached to the idea of him getting into teaching when/if he gets his head on straight.

[ferg0s]

Completely out of left field from what I usually post…

But can you imagine being a nanny for the Wayne Family. Bruce hiring you as a way to integrate Damien into being a normal child - but you just think it’s because he’s a busy single dad who wants someone to look after his kid - and spending your time in the manor trying not to die every-time you find out there’s more rooms. Even though you lied on your resume and had your friends pretend to be your references, you get the job and you want to do the best you can bacsuse it’s either this or working retail. Most of your time is helping Damien with homework, listening to him tell you the most effective ways to skin a human without killing them or running around after him as he seems to glide across the room with ninja like agility because he doesn’t want to do the mandatory 1 hour reading he had to do for English class.

You chalk him up to be a quirky kid with quirky interests. God knows you were into some weird things when you were young. (🫵🏼 looking at you yes, you)

You see his other kids come in and out, often coming over for Alfreds cooking. You keep a low profile, saying hello and having small talk occasionally- when you’re not running around after Damien - and they know your presence. You can sense the familt dynamic is a likes strained, but you’re hell bent on being a professional nanny so you keep your head low and enjoy that you get triple the minimum wage for Gotham.

But it seems like who ever enters the manor is cursed with the Wayne family secret. Maybe it was fate that your stomach started to act up just as you were getting ready to leave - and thank god you had found a secluded powder room in the end of the west wing that you claimed as your own - because you spent an ungodly amount of time there that night. You figured you’d apologize to Alfred or Mr.Wayne for staying to late if they caught you at the manor so late - blaming the Joker positioning the water supply for your stomach being upset, which was true to be fair - and you tried your hardest to move towards the front door without making a sound.

As you pass the double doors for the dining room, you begin to hear bickering coning from the other side. You loved job way too much to be fired for snooping on the Waynes, so you ignore it and keep walking until you see what’s happening inside from the small crack of the door being open. Your eyes landing on the sight of the Batman. His back Atleast.

You knew it was wrong - but god you needed answers. You wondered if the conspiracies were true, that Bruce Wayne secretly sponsored Batman and his gang. But as you peer inside, you realize that it wasn’t. You put two and two together when you saw the entirely of Gothams crime fighting heros standing in the living room, going over how they fumbled the two face lead. Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin… the puzzle pieces started to connect in your head.

You quietly exited the manor without saying a word. And what did you do after that? Nothing. You acted as if you saw nothing. You weighed your options. You could keep quiet and pretend like nothing happened, keep your job and enjoy the dental plan that came with it. Or you could blab about it on the news and be crucified by the Bruce Wayne Stans for suggesting such a thing.

The scariest thing in Gotham wasn’t the villains, it was the Bruce Wayne Stans. Every Gothamite knew that.

But it seemed like the more you wanted to ignore the problem the more you got caught up in the web. From walking into Jason cleaning his Red Hood mask in the dinning room, staring at him, turning around and walking out without saying a word to ignoring when Damien casually dropped the tidbit of information about how he was mad at his father because he was grounded from being in the batcave unsupervised.

It all came to a head on a random Wednesday evening when you weee getting water form the kitchen. “How long have you known?” You hear Alfred ask As he polishes the silverware. You tried to play dumb, asking if it was about Damien sneaking in ice cream after bed time - but he quickly cuts you off. “About a month now,” you confess. He nods, putting the polished fork back into the cabinet and picking up another one. “I cannot say that I am pleased to hear that-“ Alfred signs. “But I presume you’re more than capable of saying within the limits of your employment agreement-“ he asks as he looks up at you.

You did sign a NDA saying you wouldn’t leak information to the press.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” You reply as you turn around to the sink to rinse the glass you had used.

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Alfred smiles.

[unhingedangstaddict]

super late Fuck It Friday post (it's technically saturday now but who cares!) I was tagged by @quintessenceofdust88 and @typicalopposite n This is from the upcoming chapter of All Of You, All Of Me (Intertwined) my bucktommy mpreg fic

“It- it did help, last night when you said you just needed some time that you weren’t leaving leaving. But I- I’m scared all the time that you’re gonna leave, Tommy. And a promise a month ago and telling me you aren’t going to one time isn’t enough. I- I need more.” Tears started sliding down Evan’s cheeks. “I can’t live like this, Tommy. I can’t spend everyday afraid that you’re going to just up and leave again and take my daughter with you. I need you to do something, say something, give me something to believe.”

“Evan,” Tommy didn’t even know what to say. He’d been scared from the start that he’d mess things up again. He knew their communication skills needed work, and they hadn’t been putting in much work yet. Tommy had been failing to keep promises he made when they got back together, and while he wasn’t solely to blame, he hadn’t been taking enough blame to begin with, and this was on him.

“And part of me hates that I’m even saying any of this,” Evan continued, not giving Tommy the chance to speak. “Part of me feels like I should just be grateful to have you back and I should just take what I can get where I can get it. But we agreed our communication needs work, and so this is me communicating what I need. Because we can’t keep going the way we’re going, and I want us to work. I want to have a family. A real family. Not two people who fucked each other and happened to end up having a kid, but a couple that loves each other and respects each other and their child who grows up in a house full of love.”

“Evan, I want that too.” Tommy insisted. “And I- look I know I’ve not been working nearly as hard as I should be on working on the things I said I would when we got back together. I’m not proud of it- it kills me to hear how much pain you’ve been in, and it makes me sick to realize I didn’t notice you were in pain sooner. And I- I don’t know how to fix it, but I promise I do want to fix it and I will do anything and everything I can.” Tommy felt tears stinging his eyes. “Just- just tell me how to fix it, Evan, tell me how to fix us.” Tommy pleaded as tears slid down his cheeks.

“I don’t know how.” Evan shook his head as tears continued flowing freely.

not tagging anyone because it's an ungodly hour and friday is most certainly over

[bullet-prooflove]

11. sometimes my past life still has a hold on me

for Sam Carver please?

Tagging: @kmc1989@mckinleysbones@wnbweasley@saturnsdevilz@star017

Companion piece to:

The Evidence Locker - Sam realises his feelings for you might be reciprocated.

Scars - Sam thinks his emotional scars are too much for you.

Playing For Keeps - Sam regrets what he said about your first night together.

Sometimes you run into someone from your past life, the one before you escaped your father and his gambling addiction. You were twelve years old when he had you take over his pool games because he was too drunk to hold a cue, you learned quickly how to hustle because the prize he was betting wasn’t cash anymore, it was private time with you.

Sam discovers this one night when the two of you are playing in your favourite hall and an older man puts a twenty on the table, claiming the next game. Normally you have no problem taking some asshole’s money but the look on your face in that moment, it makes his blood run cold because it’s the same one he used to have when his parents told him they were leaving him with his brother.

Instead of responding to the challenge, you toss the cue on the table, pick up your stuff and walk out without a word. It takes him almost a block to catch up with you and when he does you’re shaking in a way that he understands has nothing to do with the declining temperature.

“Tell me.” He implores because he can’t stand the sight of you suffering.

“If I tell you it’s going to change things, you’re going to look at me and see something else and I don’t want that.” You tell him, your voice breaking a little as you tuck your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket.

“It won’t.” He tells you resolutely, cupping your face between his hands. “When I told you about my brother, did it change the way you loved me?”

“No.” You say softly as his nose rubbing lightly over yours.

“Then trust me when I say the same.” He whispers and you know he means it.

You tell him everything when you get home, about your father, his friends, the reason you’re frighteningly good at pool. It was a way for you to put food on the table, pay the rent. And losing, it came at a cost, one you hate to think about.

“That man tonight, he was one of them?” He asks you, his thumb tracing soothing circles over that delicate little spot behind your ear, the one that calms you.

“He was my first.” You say quietly. “Twenty dollars was the going rate.”

Twenty dollars for your dignity, it makes Sam want to murder someone.

He goes back to the poolhall the following night while you’re on shift. That man, the one from your past, he’s standing there by that pool table laughing as if nothing ever happened, as if he didn’t abuse a twelve year old girl. Sam spends the evening sitting at the bar, drinking club soda, waiting for the moment he slips out for a smoke and when he does…

He does what exactly what someone should have done for you all those years ago. He beats the shit out of him and he makes it clear that if he ever sees that bastard in your orbit again then he’ll finish the job.

When you get home that night, he doesn’t try to hide his split knuckles, he wants you to know what he did, that he took care of your problem. He wants you to know your safe.

“Thank you.” You say softly because in that moment you realise there’s a little bit of justice in the world. “You don’t understand what it means…”

You choke up a little then and Sam, he draws you close, cradling you against him.

“I do.” He whispers against your hairline. “Trust me I do.”

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kaoskuantico]

I criticize the Caitvi's writing because they already had the precedent, while it's still a huge step forward, they're not the first, second or third wlw ship. I expected better.

Korrasami had everything against it, gay marriage wasn't even legal in all the states in the USA back then, and Nickelodeon made the show go from tv to online. And not only that, but they could only represent it with holding hands.

If we analyze it from today's standards, of course it's bland. But let's not forget the context. It was a HUGE deal, a milestone that gave us other wlw ships.

I suggest looking at this reaction compilation:

Korrasami holds a very special place for me, it was the very first couple I ever shipped, and I did it in the first episode of Book (season) 3, when they were just hanging out as friends and spending time together.

I acknowledge it isn't the best -although at my own selfish and personal level it is- but I won't let people forget where we come from. I criticize Caitvi because I expected much more, not because I hate the ship. And I'm glad it has become another milestone for future lesbian relationships on media. If we don't take the context inside the plot into account, the sex scene is a huge step forward.

And I won't let other people criticize Avatar either or just tlok, the context is important too. I understand Season 2 of Arcane had just a few writers, and they did what they could. But Nickelodeon only allowed Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko the first season in the beginning, that's why it seems so different from its predecessor, who had the three seasons planned from the beginning.

Context, people, context. Let's not put down a wlw relationship to praise another, we don't have many ships to have that privilege. Don't forget your roots.

Me, when someone dares to tell me that Korrasami is better than Caitvi :

Or even at the same level, while this ship of tlok is (sorry to the fans) super poorly written :

Seriously, this ship is one of the worst queer relationships I've seen in fiction with Chaggie from Hazbin Hotel ! And I'm not difficult though.

Korrasami is a bad ship, and I don't understand its popularity. Already it's a bad ship which is part of a bad show...

I guess it's because it was still pretty rare for real representation in a children's show at the time, but still. Objectivity as you grow up please ?

[mitamicah]

Random idea I got when I posted some of the käärijätober drawings to Instagram- here's a list of songs to listen to fitting each prompt I made in the challenge x'D (most will probably be Käärijä songs since ... you know x'D)

There may be some I am blanking on so feel free to suggest songs :3

Crazy (x) => It's Crazy It's Party by Käärijä (feat. Tommy Cash)

Party (x) => Cha Cha Cha by Käärijä

Tiny (x) => ???

Loud (x) => Viulunkieli by Käärijä

Warm (x) => You'll Be In My Heart by Glen Close & Phil Collins

Story (x) => I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift

Soft (x) => Paidaton Riehuja by Käärijä*

Doubt (x) => Menestyt Yksilo by Käärijä

Idolize (x) => Boyfriend by Justin Bieber** OR I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill

Headbang (x) => Fantastista by Käärijä (feat. KähinaPate)

Alienate (x) => In The End by Linkin Park***

Aggressive (x) => Huhhahhei by Käärijä****

Smile (x) =>Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars*****

Attention (x) => ???

Silly (x) => Huhhahhei by Käärijä****

Hurt (x) => Decode by Paramore******

Exhausted (x) => Morgan by Käärijä

Distance (x) => Take Me To Church by Hozier*******

Surprise (x) => ???

Excited (x) => Rock Rock (Daun Lou Remix) by Käärijä********

Together (x) => Happy Birthday OR We're All In This Together from High School Musical

Sleepy (x) => Välikoulema by Käärijä

Vacation (x) => He's a Pirate by Klaus Beidet (aka the Pirates of Carribean theme) *********

Jumpy (x) => Under the Sign of Winx (aka the Winx Club theme song)

Hug (x) => ???

Celebration (x) => Punainen Marli by Käärijä

Honest (x) => Kovis by Käärijä **********

Lonely (x) => Lonely by Akon

Lightning (x) => Pokemon Theme Song

Danger (x) => Toxic by Brittney Spears

Family (x) => Welcome by Phil Collins

Notes under the line

*I know it doesn't fit that well but at least he's shirtless x'D

** I mean it is their song after all x'D

*** I was between In The End and Numb but since Jere had used the prior himself in a story I thought it would fit the best - also yes half the reason I chose Linkin Park was that Jere used it in his story so I know he'd approve x'D

**** I know HHH is here twice but since both are directly inspired by the song I couldn't NOT do it :'D

***** Mostly for the 'When you Smile, the Whole World stops and stares for a while' line :'D

****** This is the first song I think about when thinking Twilight and you know ... Jere is a vampire x'D plus he made Bojan watch the movie so that's that x'D

******* Again I was a bit at a loss since I knew I wanted something church music but not what - find it a bit silly to put Take Me to Church here then since it is very queer and actually also a diss of religion xD

******** I cannot get Jere chasing Frank out of my brain so this song it is x'D

********* Had we had the Intro that Allu plays at the concerts this would be it for me but instead I'll go for Rock Rock since that is another one where I remember him happy spinning :'D

********** I'm sorry but him talking about 'It Grow' gives me Kovis vibes x'D

[sapphicautistic]

my partner's family is 100% how i'm going to get covid

[impossible-rat-babies]

okay gamers I think we’re back in the pits bc I fell asleep putting together a DT timeline for eyrie and estinien

[orleans-jester]

There’s nothing slow about cold water. Not the way that it gets into your skin, into your pores. Not the way that if so much as a drop gets into your system, it feels like your esophagus and lungs are being attacked with a thousand stinging knives. It’s not refreshing like a cold shower or a dip in the pool. It’s pure pain. It was fight or flight when you couldn’t do either because you were too fucking cold to move, your muscles growing stiff, freezing.

Figaro literally only had the strength to get that Leo line out before everything else was taken from them. They weren’t able to help scramble onto the land with Willem and Nelly’s help, just laying on the ground, soaking wet, taking heaving breaths that hurt with each new inhale. That feeling when you have some very minty gum and then breathe in cold air? That times a thousand. With KNIVES.

And yet, not once throughout this adventure, did they ever think ‘Man, I wish I didn’t agree to this.’ Not once did they fault Willem for bringing them to this crazy other place with the cold and the weird fairies and Cap’n Hook and Peter Pan. This was better than a movie. This was like Pan’s Labyrinth with Targaryen hair! Even shivering, even with skin reddened from the cold, and teeth chattering, and blue lips, they didn’t regret a diddly damn thing.

They were muttering to themselves though. “Okay, what horror movie nuh - knowledge do I have th-that can help?” They said, stumbling on frozen feet to get towards the more stable land while Willem was calling for his aunt. “The Thing - keep up on blood tests. F-Frozen - know y-your ski-lift hours, and don’t jump down d-dozens of f-feet expecting to land on your f-feet, and don’t fall asleep w-with your skin on cold metal. D-damnit, that’s not helping. Uhh - Th-The Shining, Hedge Mazes in the Winter are never a g-good idea. Dead Snow - always b-be prepared f-for Nazi zombies. Jack Frost - don’t bathe in melted snowmen..”

As they walked to find the sun and some firewood, Figaro’s toes definitely feeling the cold, not even realizing how numb they were until they started to painfully warm up. They didn’t know which was worse. The freezing or the warming. So they more waddled, trying to keep their toes from touching the ground with each step. With red-tinged fingers, they undid their coat too. They didn’t have to take Clopin’s survival class at the Magisterium to know wet clothes were a hinderance.

They just let the coat and pack fall onto the ground for now, leaving it behind. Wasn’t like they couldn’t raid some outdoors store in Feral for another one. Fire though - fire. “Damn, why did I sp-spend all my t-time learning cu-curses rather than f-fire.”

They exhaled warm air into their hands, rubbing them together, wishing they were Ellie right about now. That would come in handy. Actually - for the first time, they felt a little bad for not being more of a help in this whole thing, other than emotional support. But that was quickly pushed to the backburner. Self-pity was not Figaro’s style. Then they started to strip down even more. They didn’t see their body as a sexual object, so stripping down was almost the same as just a guy taking his shirt off. They left their Trailer Park Boys briefs on, though.

“Iorek - will be damn p-proud of us, I think,” They said, looking to Will, their short hair pressed to their face. “And well-jelly that we did it with s-such grace.”

They clung close to Willem though, almost appearing needy, just because they needed that damn body heat. Still cold but slowly thawing as everything around them did as well. As Spring sprung.

“D-Don’t be,” Figaro said. “We’re the motha-fuckin champions. Look what we did. Mostly you b-but I’ll take some credit.” They bent down and ran their fingers through the grass, wet but still growing. The flowers. They plucked one and put it behind Willem’s ear so it created a bright splash of color against his dark, wet hair. “And we always have the d-door still. If we need it.”

“I’m lie - B minus percent sure that I’m going to lose a toe or two, but I thi-think I’m warming up.” The shivering wasn’t so bad as they found a patch of sunlight. It was helping, little by little.

Only Figaro could pull off a quip like that. Hook’s hair indeed. But they weren’t wrong. Willem thought to himself he did have good hair, didn’t he? He ran his hands through it as he thought about it. Maybe he’d thank the ol’ man for this hair someday.

“I do have pretty good hair, don’t I?”

But the world got away from him too fast before he could think on it long. The ice and snow were melting from everywhere. Before they knew it, they were sloshing down a pixie white water river. This was so not the plan, not the plan at all.

If this adventure had been fun at all this part wasn’t. Drudging through the blizzard was one thing, but getting submerged in ice water was not it. So not it. Maybe he managed to get to shore after all that, but now they were chattering and as they looked at poor Figaro Willem felt guilty for the first time for bringing them along. The suffer together motto was really pushing them to the test now.

“I’m sorry Smalls. But don’t worry. You may be Leo, but I’m not Rose. I’m your DaFriend.” He growled. “I’ll never let go.” He pulled as hard as he could flittering his slopped over wings that were drenched.

Luckily, Nelly could fly in the wet cold like a boss bitch. Her wings weren’t real being a doll. She flew on happy thoughts and pixie dust alone. Nelly grabbed the back of Willem and they both pulled. Three big heave hoes later and Figaro was pulled to land.

Willem quickly helped them take more steps back from the water line before it gave way again. He wanted to make sure they were all on stable land.

He didn’t know what to do or how to even dry off. Everything was wet from his whole body, his clothes, his pack, to all of the surrounding forest as snow kept melting around them.

He hugged onto Smalls just thankful to be alive at first. Then it dawned on him he didn’t know where Periwinkle was. He started to look around and call out.

“Peri! Aunt Peri!”

His teeth and lips were chattering as he called out with a frantic look on his face afraid, she’d gone under.

Nelly would point way down the now raging river. Willem was holding Figaro and himself as he squinted as hard as he could.

“It’s her. Way down there. She made it. She’s climbing out of the river.”

Relief washed over him, but they were still stuck with the pressing problem of hypothermia like this.

“Come on Smalls. We gotta, I don’t know. Get out where the sun is blazing down on us.”

That was all he could manage to think of at first.

“Build a fire if we can find anything dry. Nelly, go look. And-and… and check on Peri.”

Nelly buzzed off like a little bee on a mission for something dry to help while Willem looked up tried to help figure out the best place for them to dry out themselves in the sun.

“It is pretty bright. It’s weird how I can feel the heat of it and still feel this cold at the same time.”

The ground where there was snow would look like puddles of muck like swamp the ground was so wet. It would look like a flood was draining. He pulled his cold soppy shirt off in some attempt to warm up not having it against his skin as they waited for Nelly when things started to keep changing rapidly.

“Uh… Sm-m-malls?”

The snow wasn’t just melting. The flowers were growing. It was like spring was springing. It was more than just the sun was shining.

The Nevers were coming back to life.

He started to smile despite everything. “Maybe we should do jumping jacks? Keep moving?” No matter how much it hurt. No matter how fast the sun or Pan’s wake up was making things happen.

“Or maybe a polar bear plunge never hurt anybody?” He was trying to look at it from a different angle. “What would Iorek say?” His shoulders were still shivering though.

Back in Pixie Hollow all the pixies were getting excited. They hadn’t been informed yet of Willem’s plan. All they knew was Wild Will and those traitors stole Pan right from the Hollow, their blue dust, and even heard Hook was back which made Will seem all the guiltier. They were all in a terrible depression over it deciding how to proceed when out of nowhere here they were all out dancing in the middle celebrating the weather. Could it be? Oh! Could it be?

Rumors were flying that Pan somehow escaped and was coming to save them all. There never seemed to be a proper rumor for how he awoke when after all this time no one could figure out how to wake him from his endless sleep. Like the dwarves with the Snow White the pixies dwelled on the site of the missing glass coffin like a memorial to the worst tragedy ever to befall Pixie Hollow. Wild Will’s face, the son of Captain Hook and even Figaro’s was in the mind everyone as enemy number one.

What was happening with Pan and Hook? Battling their way out of the labyrinth. The moment he awoke he was up to his old tricks and calling Hook a codfish. Hook was no lost boy. He’d have made his way out and the pair were swashbuckling sword fighting… er hook and wooden knife fighting their way through the Nevers. Pan was trying to get back to his boys and Hook was trying to kill Pan while signaling to the crew back on the Jolly Roger.

While the pixies were celebrating the weather and Willem was just thankful, he and Smalls were alive and that his plan was working, he’d saved the Hollow, Hook was getting word to Pirate Cove that Wild Will was a traitor. Everything he’d worked for in the magic door at Funky Town was being torn apart for the Nevers, the pixie’s safety, his mother’s home that Tink abandoned herself, and for Delta’s alliance with the pixies in Feral. As Willem watched the flowers grow and even though he was smiling that this phase of the plan had really worked, the chill that was down to his bones felt more real than ever as the reality of what this was going to damage crept up in his heart.

Where were his happy thoughts going to be now?

It was the first time in all this that pirate admitted to Smalls, “I’m a little scar- worried.” He’d been terrified of his father all his life all while he was his right hand, but he knew he might have just crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed again.

“We can fix this. There’s always a next plan.” He nodded as if to reassure himself of being able to handle whatever came after this. “We did the right thing. You okay?” He asked as he kept watching for Nelly to come back.

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.