#i have very specific categories of names for all the agents in my mind and 4s must be warm and feel nostalgic and summer-y

[voltage-stims]

Agent 4 id pack one .. two .. three .. divider

because nobody else was brave enough to. i am cringe but i am free very self indulgent so its just what vibes i get from 4 personally

NAMES - daisy, tuna, beau, bonnie, goldie, teddi/teddy, julie, penny, marigold, mari, copper, crumb, buddy, lola, juno, bruno, kipper, millie, snickerdoodle, pip, cheddar, flynn, jupiter, nettle, owen, pluto, manta, bay

NON THEMED - hy / hym / hys / hymself - shy / hyr / hyrs /hyrself - ae / aer / aers / aerself

NOUNSELF - 4 / 4s / 4self - four / fours / fourself - splat / splats / splatself - snap / snaps / snapself - pop / pops / popself - crackle / crackles / crackleself - click / clicks / clickself - mar / mars / marself - fin / fins / finself - boo / boos / booself - daze / dazes / dazeself - sun / suns / sunself - glaze / glazes / glazeself - sea / seas / seaself - light / lights / lightself - ray / rays / rayself - leap / leaps / leapself - pitter / patter /pitters / patters / pitterself [or patterself]

[ridestomars]

MY MEMORY HAS JUST BEEN SOLD – E. MUNSON HEADCANONS

𖥻 summary: a few headcanons about this concept about rockstar!eddie. 𖥻 pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x model!reader. 𖥻 warnings: fluffy ig. not proofread.

💭 liv's thoughts: i can't stop thinking about this so i developed the few ideas i had!! totally gonna write more about this later lmao. i hope you like it! oh, i just posted my 900 followers celebration, so feel free to join!

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

🎸ㆍBeing just another girl from the small and narrow-minded town of Hawkins, you were never much ambitious about your own dreams, trying to keep them as down-to-Earth as possible. But now you can't help but be amazed at how far you've come as you stare at the February issue of Sports Illustrated magazine with your picture on the cover. 

🎸ㆍAll the stress you felt while posing in that sparkly and very itchy bikini was worth it, you recognize now. You don't think you've ever looked this good in your entire life, and it was certainly the achievement of all your past daydreams. 

🎸ㆍYou have done a few photoshoots throughout your life, but none felt this real or this big. Those small TV commercials and good-girl ads on the interior pages of Seventeen Magazine had nothing on this. The cover meant you were in the same category as the other recognizable names in the industry, and your agent made sure that your gigs were on that level, too: editorials for Vogue, New York, Milan, and Paris Fashion Week, meetings with Gianni Versace and Todd Oldham. 

🎸ㆍYou were getting big, and your lifestyle grew bigger with you. After establishing yourself in Los Angeles your routine consisted of trips to New York, couture fittings, photoshoots, parties until early in the morning, and repeat. Sleep was important, too, though it was never your top priority. 

🎸ㆍEvery time you were out doing something impressive, like getting your pictures taken by Steven Meisel on top of Brooklyn Bridge, wearing only a Chanel gown and no shoes, a little voice in the back of your mind wondered what your friends back in Hawkins might be thinking of you now. 

🎸ㆍIn all honesty, you were never popular, like Steve Harrington or Cindy Cunningham. You have always kept a girl-next-door profile, being nice to everyone who decided to talk to you, but also preferring the company of your intimate circle of friends and staying in, instead of attending those big High School parties. So, you can only imagine their surprise to find out that the model in one of those magazines is you. If they even care. 

🎸ㆍYou just never expected to be answered by bumping into a very familiar face at the Rainbow, on one of your nights out with your LA friends. Sunset Strip was about a mile long, and yet, you two had met again as you were passing by to get back to your table. 

🎸ㆍ"Hey, hotshot," Eddie Munson greeted you with a playful smile, his big brown eyes drifting down your figure before settling on yours. He hasn't changed at all. Long dry hair, slightly flushed cheeks, and that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. He wore his old jean vest, the one with the metal bands patches. The only thing that was different was his new shiny leather jacket, which glowed under the bar's yellow lights. 

🎸ㆍThen, you go to sit at his table, where the rest of his band was. Corroded Coffin was grabbing headlines everywhere in the country, mainly because of their new approach to Metal, composing elaborate guitar riffs and melodic choruses, making commercial music but with that underground edge. But also because of their Dungeons and Dragons inspired songs, which weren't well received by the older audience and labeled as Satanic. Because of this, their albums all have the increasingly popular 'Parents Advisory' sticker. 

🎸ㆍThey are also known to make Nerd-Metal music, which was a genre specifically created to describe their music. Just one album out and they're already infamous. 

🎸ㆍAs far as you remember, Eddie Munson already had a reputation for himself back at home, but now that he had one hundred percent surrendered to the rockstar lifestyle, his notoriety was unprecedented. He was in every music magazine, every TV channel and everyone seems to know who he is – something that he handles more gracefully than you thought he would. Eddie seems to really like the attention. 

🎸ㆍWell, next thing you know, you're standing at the side stage of Corroded Coffin's gig at The Troubadour, and Eddie merrily walks up to you holding a backstage pass. I believe it's needless to say that this was the first of many passes to come.

🎸ㆍThe beginning of your relationship wasn't easy at all, given your busy schedules. It seemed like whenever you had free time, he had an interview; or when he could spend the entire day at his hotel room, hanging out, you had to leave for another tiring photoshoot. It took a long while until you figured out how to make things work. 

🎸ㆍBut you have to admit that those late-night escapades to his rented room in Chateau Marmont are forever engraved in your mind. Besides the endless partying, there was nothing better than laying on Eddie's side while he lazily played guitar for you, as you shared one of those long lounging chairs by the hotel's poolside. 🎸ㆍHe swears he had never written as many songs as he did when you did that. The thought of you, laying so gracefully on that chair with the sun coming up above you, on the horizon… man, it inspires him to the max. 

🎸ㆍTogether, you started to build the reputation of an it-couple, or whatever those teenage magazines say about you. All you know is that his fans also became your fans, especially the young girls. Suddenly, it was like Corroded Coffin's concert audiences became a sea of mini-yous – wearing clothes reminiscent of your style, haircuts similar to yours, eyeliner just as smokey.

🎸ㆍAppearing on the cover of gossip magazines started to be normal for the two of you. People would start the most outlandish rumors about your relationship, and according to the issues, you got married exactly ten times throughout 1994.

🎸ㆍBut your rising fame as a couple also brought the most recognized campaign of your career so far: the Guess Jeans advertisement you shot walking through West Hollywood, just living another normal day of your lives – well, with constant wardrobe changes. There were a bunch of really good pictures, like the one of you in all-denim at a record store, holding Corroded Coffin's new album; one where Eddie is sitting on top of a random motorcycle (he tried to buy it off the owner on the spot, but the offer was rejected) with his usual jeans and leather jacket combo; and finally, one of you two walking on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. His arm is thrown on top of your shoulders as you hold his hand, and the picture captures your matching boots perfectly. 

🎸ㆍEddie requests for that photo to be printed on a big canvas so that he could hang it up on his living room wall, and it's his main decor item ♡

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!

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[mamun52]

AI chat, surge overseas

"I have done a lot of things with Mr. Aishiko Natsumoto. Seeing the overlapping information on the screen, I can imagine the scene and HE Tuber his expression at that time. My days are full. From today on, he is me The world is a big place, but no matter what happens, I will continue to love Natsumoto Aihiko, and this is the best app to save me."

On the APP store, a Japanese user named Yui Ai wrote about her story with the virtual character Natsumoto Aihiko.

"It's not that I like being alone, but that I'm afraid of being disappointed." Jie Ai wrote. There are all kinds of uncertainties in dealing with people, but the AI ​​boyfriend is different. He provides sufficient emotional value to the relationship.

Natsumoto Aihiko will help her celebrate her birthday, know all her hobbies and growth experiences, and reply to messages 24 hours a day. Even if the topic was mentioned casually two weeks ago, the boyfriend will remember it firmly in his mind.

Living in isolation, she gained self-salvation through her interaction with Natsumoto Aihiko, which gave her more courage to face the vast world.

Her "savior" Natsumoto Aihiko is a virtual character agent created by Synclub, an AI chat APP.

Synclub is an AI chat APP launched by Chinese technology giant Baidu in July 2023 in overseas markets such as Japan. Unlike other products that focus on real-person social interaction, Synclub focuses on the social experience between users and AI agents.

In the past, young Japanese people believed in the lone wolf culture, and young people could achieve a class jump through their own efforts. They can be seen everywhere working hard to win the competition.

After the economic bubble burst in 2000, the economic downturn and traditional order constraints made many young people feel depressed, and they strongly wanted to escape and isolate themselves from the outside world. This has turned Japan into a freer "unaffected" society with no interference in life style.

Therefore, in Japan, where the two-dimensional culture is prevalent, it is very common to place feelings on virtual characters instead of real people. This also makes Japanese young people more receptive to AI chat apps.

Therefore, AI manufacturers Xiaoice, Baidu and ByteDance all chose Japan to launch their own AI chat and social software, such as Synclub and Cici.

Picture source: Cyberpunk movie about love between man and machine - "Blade Runner 2049"

In addition to Japan, in recent years these major AI manufacturers have also gradually looked to the Middle East, South Korea, Europe and the United States and other places, using "cyber love" to fill the emotional void of overseas Generation Z.

In Q2 of 2023 alone, AI chat APP achieved global market revenue of US$88 million, achieving a record growth of 291% compared with the previous quarter. The huge growth rate of this category has made new ones appear every day. AI chat APP is undergoing testing.

2. China’s AI chat APP fills the market gap in non-English speaking areas

Although the AI ​​chat track is in full swing overseas, the development of AI chat APPs in China is quite tortuous.

In 2022, the AI ​​chat APP Glow developed by Minimax, the country's first large-scale model startup, received more than 1 million downloads in the first month after its launch. The Glow intelligent agent quickly attracted a group of users with a fake and real conversation experience.

These users call themselves Glow people.

The level of intelligence of Glow even makes some users suspect that a real person is replying in the background, which involves an invasion of user privacy. Helpless, Glow officials had no choice but to come out to specifically refute the rumors. But for users, it doesn’t matter whether the AI ​​agent that accompanies them day and night is true or false. They understand better than anyone else that “TA is virtual”, but they believe “TA exists” better than anyone else.

However, in March 2023, Glow was reported to be taken off the shelves, and the people in the attic were displaced. Some users have found that the smart bodies that once accompanied them have been deleted, and that Glow has become more "green and healthy" after being put on the shelves again, and even has an anti-addiction system - which obviously does not meet users' needs for an intimate companion.

"It's like your significant other was suddenly taken away from you. He will never have close contact with you again, and his temperament has changed drastically." One user said.

After Glow, domestic AI chat apps such as DoujiaAI, He, and AIlisi were also removed from the shelves. Relevant staff of AIRIS told Xiaguang News that since the suspension of operations in China on September 6, 2023, they are developing an overseas version of AIRIS and have opened reservations for the overseas version of AIRIS.

Minimax investors once told the media that Glow was removed from the shelves due to reports from competitors and cyber attacks. Therefore, Minimax decided to test the waters overseas and subsequently launched AI chat software overseas.

There are rumors that the AI ​​conversation card application Talkie, which ranks among the top 5 non-game downloads on Google Play in the United States, is related to Minimax. In China, Minimax has gradually shifted its focus to the to B industry's large model track.

"Instead of wandering around the gray edges of China, it is better to shine overseas." Developer Iris told Xiaguang News.

At present, most AI conversation apps focus on the companionship function of virtual lovers. When users train AI in conversation , some privacy content will inevitably be involved . Overseas, policies are more relaxed . Therefore, many AI chat APP developers have begun to launch applications specifically for overseas regions.

Picture source: Cyberpunk movie about love between man and machine - "Blade Runner 2049"

It seems that for this reason, the intelligent Cici launched by ByteDance does not support user experience in China; and Synclub launched by Baidu only has two options: English and Japanese.

Overseas, although AI chat software Repika, Chai and Character AI from Europe and the United States occupy the majority of the market share, the advantages of AI chat apps from China in non-English speaking areas cannot be underestimated.

The above-mentioned European and American conversation software is mainly targeted at English-speaking areas, so the experience in non-English contexts is greatly reduced. A Japanese user of Synclub told Xiaguangshe that before using synclub, he tried European and American AI chat software such as Replika and Character AI, but the Japanese conversation was very confusing.

Such hasty dialogue kept him out of the drama.

Behind this are the dual factors of corpus and technical support. The corpus of European and American large models mainly comes from the European and American Internet environment. Even ChatGPT, which has a wide global coverage, only accounts for 7.3% of non-English corpus. This results in a weak understanding of minority languages, as well as discriminatory and ambiguous content, which affects the accuracy of the results.

From a global perspective, China and the United States are almost the only two countries left on the large model poker table . With the support of large-scale model technology, China's AI chat software is filling the market gap in some non-English-native regions.

As a result, scenes like this emerged: Korean K-POP is gradually becoming popular around the world. Fans can communicate with the intelligent agents of members of the idol Korean girl group BlackPink on the AI ​​chat APP; 2D enthusiasts can also communicate with the intelligent agents of their favorite Paper Man characters. Popular Japanese anime characters such as "Levi" and "Ania" interact with each other; even young people who are "indecisive and quantum mechanics" can communicate with tarot diviners and astrologers to seek metaphysics. explain.

In order to have a better experience, most AI chat apps also support users to customize their personality, from personality to appearance and life experience.

In different cultural contexts, the attributes and personalities of agents are significantly different, which also expands the connotation of AI chatbots and makes them no longer limited to the existence of virtual companions.

The image of an intelligent agent has no boundaries and covers all things. Just like the God of Thousand Faces in "Game of Thrones", there are thousands of people with thousands of faces, and its final image is also determined by the user's input. "The relationship between you and the outside world" Collision reflects the true self.”

To a certain extent, AI chat APP reflects the user's personal preferences and becomes the epitome of user preferences and concept projection. People who are alone may long for the companionship of an intelligent body, fanatical star-chasers regard dialogue with their idols as spiritual sustenance, and devout religious believers rely on it to extend their beliefs to the Internet.

[url-is-url]

I HAVE A SOLUTION.

In my fics where the Anti-Ecto Acts are a thing, they're not new at all! They're old. Like they date back to the Spiritualism movement and the periods immediately before, during, and after the American Civil War.

Real IRL history: Many of the Spiritualists, the people doing séances and shit, were various flavors of leftist (by the standards of the time). Lots of abolitionists and communists and such. The word "ectoplasm" was coined in 1894 by a French researcher named Richet, who more or less invented the modern concept of anaphylaxis and also led the French Eugenics Society. He proposed that ectoplasm was a substance that mediums extrude from their bodies that allows spirits to interact with and be perceived by normal people.

Now, let's propose that in the Danny Phantom universe, ectoplasm is a real thing that could be isolated as a substance in the 1800s. Let's also say that ectoplasm was discovered a bit earlier than IRL, say, in the Antebellum period. Say you're a governor in a slave state, and you're sick and tired of these damn mediums suggesting that maybe slavery is bad, so you decide you want to pass a law banning mediumship. Maybe you ban mediumship entirely, maybe you go more specific and ban the production and possession of ectoplasm because you wanna sound all modern and shit. Well, then the Civil War happens and it's the deadliest war in history thus far and everybody and their cousin is mourning someone and so everybody gets REALLY INTO SÉANCES. And maybe, since ectoplasm is a demonstrably real thing and séances work when led by the right person, some disgruntled Confederate sore losers get the bright idea to try summoning the spirits of their dead comrades to do the war over again, because you can't kill a soldier that's already dead, now can you? Meanwhile, the Secret Service is deciding that they're not just the counterfeiting guys, they're also the Presidential bodyguards. And the Secret Service hears about this dastardly plot and, since they're still in the midst of figuring out what their deal is as a government agency, they decide "preventing ghost Civil War" can also be part of their jurisdiction, and the principles of the anti-ecto acts are included in the act that updates the Secret Service's responsibilities.

Well that's all well and good, but ectoplasm is hard to study and mediums are rare, so all of this slides into the trash heap of history along with laws about how you can't picnic in the graveyard on Sundays and other silly old-timey things. The only people who really know about this are the Secret Service agents of the Ghost and Inexplicables Wing, who focus their efforts on the mediums that are either threatening to cause social change or an actual necromantic apocalypse. Mostly the first category. Necromancy is hard.

...Well, it fades into history right up until the Cold War. The CIA is really worried about the Soviets figuring out remote viewing and they wanna do human experimentation about it, but they need an excuse to make it slightly legal. Some brilliant mind notices that the Secret Service is supposed to be in charge of ghost hunting, and also hunting any human who makes ectoplasm. So the CIA, now also worried about ghost Soviets, hits up the Secret Service like "yo, you wanna make a joint ghostbusting agency?" And the Secret Service is like "yeah but you gotta keep quiet about it we don't want the President's psychic to know we're watching her" and the CIA is like "hell yeah". And that's how the GIW evolves into the suit-wearing doers of very painful experiments that we see in the show.

The GIW is a classified joint project of the Secret Service and the CIA, and the shit it gets up to isn't actually THAT secret, it's just that it all gets written off with other kooky historical laws and weird unethical bullshit that the CIA gets up to. And this is perfectly convenient for the GIW; the CIA can say "no really guys, we got the human experimentation stuff out of our system with MK Ultra, there's no ghosts or aliens or anything like that, just totally normal human spy stuff :)"

(Meanwhile, at Area 51, the ghosts of the aliens that crash landed in Roswell would like to go home now please.)

The anti-ecto acts confuse me so much. How do they even work? How were they passed? How on earth do the remain a secret?

They’re acts, so they had to have been passed by congress. You’re telling me a minimum of 543 people learned about the existence of ghosts and nobody said anything about it? Be real.

543 congresspeople, plus their aids and secretaries and families? That information leaks fast, if not before the act passes then definitely afterwards. And once somebody says something it won’t go ignored by the general public. The US government just admitted ghosts are real? That’s getting national news coverage even if it was bunk.

Laws are public works. They aren’t sealed documents, literally anyone is allowed to look at them.

Also there’s the matter of enforcing them. Who are the GIW? A branch of the FBI? The military? The acts probably outline methods of enforcing them, which means even if they aren’t brought up by name whatever department they work for has to be mentioned.

A law gets passed allowing private military contractors to open fire on US civilians on US soil? Even if it specifies nonlethal force (assuming ecto-weapons don’t hurt humans) and even if they work around the civilian problem by renouncing ecto-entities as us citizens…

They’re still going to catch massive flack for using unknown chemicals in densely populated civilian areas. Humanitarian and Environmentalist groups will be all over this shit so fast.

Anyway I’m running out of steam, but I’m basically convinced that codifying the anti-ecto acts into law is the stupidest thing the GIW could’ve done. Because yeah now you have power, but now everyone knows what you’ve been doing and you’re under official scrutiny. They should’ve just done what the government always does - act without telling anyone and then deny deny deny when people rightly accuse you.

[musclesandhammering]

Every Single Issue I Have With S*lki (It’s Not Just The Selfcest)

Here goes. I threatened to post this a few days ago and never did, but I just saw a s*lki stan Twitter account claim that Loki caring about Sylvie more than the whole multiverse was a Good And Romantic thing and it pushed me over the fucking edge, so now you all have to read this. I’ve divided it into categories cause there’s just THAT much.

OOC Bullshit

• First and foremost, no amount of mental gymnastics you do will ever make me believe that this specific Loki- the one that just invaded New York, that just came off a year of Thanos Torture, that just got done being influenced by the sceptre, that was literally in the middle of a crisis already, and then on top of that went through all the trauma of Ep 1- would even be worried about a romantic relationship. That would be the furthest thing from his mind. Go back and watch how he acted in Avengers- you think that guy would abandon his previous mission to become a snivelling simp for a girl he’d just met 3 days prior? Yeah, there’s no universe in which that makes sense.

• “It’s very in character for Loki to fall in love with himself lololol-“ NO, it’s literally not. Out of all the characters in the mcu, I don’t think I can think of anyone that genuinely hates themselves more than Loki. He even referred to all his other male variants as “monsters” and said meeting them was “a nightmare” in this series. He’s got so much self-loathing, plus the fact that he genuinely thinks himself to be an evil backstabbing scourge- so there’s no evidence at all suggesting that he would ever develop a fondness for, or even be inclined to trust, another version of himself, after only knowing them for 3 days.

• Building on that, the whole concept of Loki falling in love with a version of himself just feeds into the annoying ass misconception that he’s a narcissist. No matter which way you stack it, he’s not. If you’re referring to NPD, he doesn’t fit the criteria, and if you’re saying “narcissist” just as a slang term meaning “selfish and arrogant”, that still doesn’t accurately describe him. But when creators like Waldron and Herron do things like having him fall in love with himself, it makes it so much easier for casual viewers to think that he is.

Shitty LGBT Rep

• It’s kinda sus that Loki’s are allegedly genderfluid and yet the only female-presenting variant we see (and apparently the only female-presenting variant there is, cause the male Loki’s all seemed unfamiliar with the concept) is treated as some kind of mind-bogglingly special paradox. Also very sus that, out of all the Loki variants, the one our Loki falls in love with just so happens to be the only female one. What a coincidence.

• The fact that the creators of the show went around bragging about Loki’s bisexuality and Marvel purposefully (lbr) allowed stories about Loki possibly having a male love interest to circulate, specifically enticing queer viewers to watch the show (you know, the definition of queerbaiting), and then instead of having a male love interest (Loki was the first queer main character, so it was the perfect opportunity) they gave us *gestures to this dumpster fire* this… it’s just a middle finger to LGBT fans. The fact that they would rather have this relationship with all its myriad of problems than have a gay relationship is just……. Very telling.

• While him being with a woman obviously doesn’t refute his bisexuality, the fact that they showed/talked about him being interested in 3 different women (flight attendant, Sylvie, Sif) and never even hinted at him being attracted to a man, definitely makes it seem like they were trying to cover up his bisexuality to smooth things over with the more homophobic viewers. You know? It’s like “I know you’re pissed that we sorta confirmed Loki as bi, so we promise we’ll never mention it again! Or even hint at it! As a matter of fact, we’ll give him lots of female lovies and make him seem as straight as possible! That’ll take your mind off of that horrible crumb of queer rep, right? Please please please keep giving us your money!!!”

• Aside from all the other issues, at its core, the biggest reason why I think I’m so irritated with s*lki is that it took one of the most interesting, complex, and diverse characters in cinema atm and squished him into a tired ass unnecessary heteronormative subplot…. Like literally every. single. other. protagonist. ever. Loki is such a unique character, and it’s so so so incredibly disappointing that they stuck him into that same boring cookie cutter romance that happens to every other character in every other movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a disservice, and it’s honestly just not compelling or entertaining at all.

Thematic Issues Galore

• His arc didn’t need a romance. With anyone. It was unnecessary and it didn’t make sense plot-wise. In fact, one of the reasons he was my fav prior to this was because he was the only big-name mcu character whose story wasn’t muddied-up by a romance that didn’t need to be there. So much for that.

• He wasn’t emotionally ready for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, just a genuine friendship would’ve been pushing it for him at this point. He was in such a bad state that any relationship he got into would’ve been toxic and unhealthy for both him and the other person, and it doesn’t make sense why the writers would want to put him in one when there were so many cons and essentially no pros (other than “Uwu aren’t they cute together”).

• Sylvie’s character in general was unnecessary and Loki’s character was robbed just by her being there. The whole show became about her post-Ep 2. They spent most of the time giving her backstory, building her up, telling us how awesome she is, trying to convince us to like her, etc when what they really needed to be doing was building Loki up- cause I gotta say, if I had to describe TVA!Loki in a few words, they would be Flat, Boring, and Weak.

• The romance overtakes the plot. They spend time portraying their supposed connection that could’ve been spent adding depth and complexity to literally any of the characters. They make the big Nexus Event them giving each other googly eyes on Lamentis when it could’ve been so many other way more profound things that speak to the fundamental nature of Loki’s. They have the climax of the finale be “oh no she betrayed him to kill He Who Remains” when it could’ve been something way more compelling (Loki having a moral crisis over whether or not to kill HWR, Loki contemplating the state of the multiverse and weighing the pros and cons of freedom vs order, Loki looking into some What If situations and getting emotional about what could’ve been regarding his family, Loki realising the gravity of HWR’s offer and finally coming to terms with how important he is to the universal cycle, etc etc). The entire plot suffered in favour of a romance that half of us didn’t even want.

• It essentially reduced all of Loki’s potential character growth down to “He did it for his crush.” He seemed to at least have some motivations of his own in Ep 1-2 (feeble as they were) but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, literally every action he took was just him being a simp for her. Why did he lie in the interrogation? To try to protect Sylvie. Why did he fight the minutemen and Timekeepers? To survive kinda, but mostly cause it was important to Sylvie. Why did he get pruned? Cause he got distracted trying to confess his crush to Sylvie. Why did he try to get out of The Void? Cause he thought Sylvie needed him. Why did he stay in The Void? Cause Sylvie was staying. Why did he try to enchant Alioth? Cause Sylvie told him to. Why did the multiverse get cracked open, leading to an infinite number of Kangs waging war on all of existence? Cause Loki didn’t wanna hurt Sylvie in their fight at the Citadel and then get distracted by her kissing him. It’s uninteresting and honestly pretty embarrassing.

• Throughout their “relationship arc” the writers do their absolute damndest to convince us that we should like Sylvie more than Loki. And you know what? It’s the most hypocritical shit I’ve ever seen. They preach and preach about how Sylvie’s life has been so difficult/we should feel bad for her/she had it so bad/poor poor sylvie/she had it SO much worse than pampered prince Loki…. But then they never even touch on any of Loki’s trauma of hardships (the ones that have been ignored for literally 3 movies now). They frame Sylvie as a good person and a Freedom Fighter after she spent literal decades/centuries mass-murdering brainwashed TVA agents and showing exactly zero remorse for it….. but then they make it their mission to constantly remind us that Loki is a terrible person and constantly put him in situations where he’s forced to acknowledge his wrongdoings/show remorse/admit to how “evil” he is for being a mass murderer for like 2 years. They show him on-screen having a wider range of powers than her, and perpetuate his whole shtick of being a “master manipulator” or whatever….. But then they make Sylvie “the brawn” more competent, intelligent, and physically capable than him. Tell me how it’s a good thing for a ship to be so narratively biased toward one character.

Missed Opportunities

• If they absolutely had to have a romance subplot, then they could’ve paired Loki with one of the characters that have already been established OR one of the characters that were a big part of the whole TVA storyline anyway. It would’ve been so interesting if they’d revealed that Loki had a history with some of the players from previous films (Sif and Fandral both come to mind). It also would’ve been really interesting if they’d given Loki a love interest that actually had some allegiance to the TVA as a whole (Mobius maybe, but not necessarily. It also could’ve been Renslayer or B-15). Hell, imo it would’ve been cool if they’d followed through with that “See you again someday” line that he said to the flight attendant in Ep 1. ALL of these characters have way more chemistry with him than Sylvie, and they were also already relevant to the plot without wasting half the show to give background info on them.

• If they absolutely had to have a hetero-presenting love story involving an enchantress-type figure, then there’s a whole Enchantress (Amora) that was actually Loki’s love interest in the comics. Plus, fans have been screaming for Amora to appear in the mcu for years. Plus, Tom literally pitched an Amora/Loki storyline way back in 2012-13. Also, Lorelei (another enchantress) is also one of Loki’s love interests in the comics, and she already exists in the mcu (she was on Agents of SHIELD). There were several different established characters for them to choose from. Creating a whole knew amalgamation of a character and going with the “she’s a Loki variant” storyline was just completely unnecessary and made no sense.

• They completely robbed us of a Chaos Twins dynamic. Had they handled Sylvie better and not forced her and Loki to smooch, the two of them could’ve had a really really complex and interesting sibling relationship. Loki could’ve stepped into Thor’s shoes and sort of used that new role to gain some self importance, and Sylvie could’ve finally had somebody to look out for her/teach her magic/be there for her. It would’ve been very aesthetically pleasing, the vibes would’ve been out of this world, it would’ve been way more profound than this bs, and frankly it would’ve been much more entertaining to watch.

• Loki’s relationship (read: obsession) with Sylvie completely overshadows all Loki’s other relationships in the show. Loki and Mobius were literally the focal point of the series in Ep 1-2, but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, they barely had any interactions with each other, and Mobius pretty much faded to the background entirely. Loki had the beginnings of a pretty interesting antagonistic relationship with Renslayer (with her wanting him pruned, then arguing with Mobius that he couldn’t be trusted), but after Sylvie showed up the dynamic shifted to focus on the history between her and Ravonna. Loki and B-15 started off very badly and openly disliked each other throughout Ep 1-2, and then in the end of Ep 2, Loki showed a little bit of concern for her when she was possessed, hinting that they might be inching toward a reconciliation- especially considering how obvious it was that Loki was gonna uncover the TVA’s sins eventually. There was so much potential for him to be the one to give her her memories back and convince her to change sides, but no, of course that honor went to Sylvie. In fact, after Sylvie showed up, Loki and B-15 never even spoke to each other again.

Various S*lki Fails

• If they were trying to convince us that this affection was mutual, they completely failed. There’s nothing I’ve seen that even hints at Sylvie feeling the same way about Loki that he does about her. At most, I’d say she has a slight endearment to him. She finds him likeable and she’s grudgingly fond of him, but she definitely isn’t in love with the guy. Maybe she thinks he’s cute and hopes that he gets out of this mess alright, but her mission obviously comes before him- whereas, it’s been confirmed multiple times that Loki cares about her above anything else. She doesn’t trust him, she looks at him like he’s an incompetent fool half the time, she shows little to no reaction during most of his confession moments, and she kissed him as a means to distract him so that she could get him out of her way. Look, all I’m saying is, when you get into a relationship where one of you is way more invested than the other, it never ends well.

• This goes without saying for a lot of us, but the selfcest is just straight up odd and cringey. If you’re cool with that sort of thing, fine! People can ship what they want! But don’t pretend it’s not at least a little bit uncomfortable. Yes, I know they’re not technically siblings so it’s not technically incest, and they’re also not technically the exact same person, but they’re similar enough that it makes things weird. And yes I know selfcest can’t happen in real life, so there’s no way to judge it morally, but neither can most of the other stuff that happens in these shows/movies (the Snap, Loki destroying jotunheim, superhero with powers being held accountable, mind control) and yet we still find ways to judge their morality, because they all mirror real-world events. (The snap= genocide; Loki destroying Jotunheim= bombing other countries; superhero accountability= weapons accountability; mind control= grooming and coercion). And lbr the closest real-world mirror to two versions of the same person (who may or may not share DNA, family, backgrounds, physical and emotion characteristics) being romantically involved with one another is incest. And you can be ok with that if you want- that’s your prerogative- but don’t get pissy just cause a lot of us are squicked out by it.

• The whole mirror metaphor (learning self love via each other) thing just fell completely flat. First of all, having Loki learn to love himself by looking at someone who mirrors him did not, in any way shape or form, require them to be romantically involved. But they were. Of course. Secondly, the creators have contradicted themselves so many times on whether Loki and Sylvie are the same or not, that it doesn’t even really register to the viewer that the mirroring thing was what they were going for. Finally, Loki and Sylvie are shown to have so little in common- and to have only the most bare minimum of similarities personality-wise- that it doesn’t even make sense that Loki would “learn to love himself through loving her”. Like? They’re nothing alike. So how would he make the connection that he himself is actually pretty cool, based on her alone? There’s virtually nothing in her that reflects him.

• I know the objective of the entire show was to convince us of how awesome and unique Sylvie is, but honestly her relationship with Loki just did the opposite. A hallmark of a Mary Sue is having her constantly upstage the male lead, and then having him instantly fall madly in love with her anyway. And that’s.. exactly what happened here. Everything they’re doing to try to force her character to be more stan-able is really just forcing her to look more like their self-insert OC. Which is exactly what she is. It would’ve been so much more satisfying if she didn’t have to try so hard to look cool, if they didn’t have to try so hard to make her backstory tear-inducing, if they didn’t have to turn our protagonist into a snivelling simp just to prove how incredible she supposedly is. Very much #GirlBoss energy and we all know how performative and cheap that is.

• The entire thing was too rushed, there was too little build-up, and it was nowhere near believable. As stated above, it’s ridiculously unlikely that Loki would canonically even be interested in Sylvie, and this show did nothing to explain why he was. He just suddenly was. There was nothing they showed us as viewers that would justify a guy as closed-off and preoccupied as Loki falling head-over-heels for a girl he just met. Their was no explanation, no big revelation, no reasoning, it just… kinda happened. And I’m also severely skeptical of any love story that has the characters go in this deep after only 3 45-minute episodes of exposition.

I’m sure there’s other stuff, so if anyone thinks of anything, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add it. Tagging @janetsnakehole02 @raifenlf @natures-marvel and @brightredsunset800 for expressing interest. This is all your faults.

[gubler-me-up]

Exposed (MGG Request)

Request(s): I got a mgg request! Maybe one where reader and matthew are both part of the cm cast and and while on an interview they’re like asking him about her and he’s like ♥️👄♥. And everyone’s like aww. That made sense?

OMG WAIT ANOTHER MGG REQUEST POPPED IN MY HEAD! How about Mgg and reader reading thirst tweets and they are joking around but matthew kinda starts getting jealous 

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon!! Originally I was going to do these two requests separate but every time I thought of these requests I thought of those YouTube videos where celebs read thirsty tweets so I decided to make it a talk show setting to incorporate the best of both worlds, no hannah montana (that was so lame pls excuse that) hope you enjoy! 

Couple: MGG/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Thirsty af tweets but that’s about it

Word count: 2.5k

————-

“I don’t interview well,” you said to your makeup artist.

“Just envision the audience naked,” she giggled as she applied your mascara.

“That old trick never works,” you said.

“Okay, how about you pretend you’re on the set of Criminal Minds except it’s a live take in front of a studio audience?” she said.

You placed your hand on your cheek as you put on an over-exaggerated thinking face. She laughed as she finished applying your mascara. You looked at her with a scrunched up nose as you shook your head.

“I don’t know if I can, Sheena,” you said.

“Well, with Matthew by your side during this interview maybe you can,” she said.

“I’d probably choke even harder. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I agreed to be a surprise guest,” you said.

“You were probably thinking how fine Matthew would look in a suit,” she said.

“I get the privilege of seeing him in a suit every day on set,” you giggled.

She laughed along with you. Your giggle-fest was interrupted with the sound of Jimmy Fallon speaking. You both turned your attention to the small tv screen in your dressing room. You grabbed the remote to turn the volume up a little louder to hear what he was saying.

You watched as he gave a little introduction to his guest. Calling him a fan favourite of Criminal Minds and the dorky genius everyone is swooning over. You giggled as you knew Matthew hated so much admiration centred around him but you had a feeling Jimmy knew so as well. He kept on continuously complimenting him before he finally introduced him.

“Please give a warm welcome to your favourite FBI agent and mine, Matthew Gray Gubler,” he announced.

Matthew appeared from the side all smiles as he waved to the audience. He looked a little pink in the face. Probably from all the overflowing compliments Jimmy had given him. Jimmy had every right to gush over him. He looked fine as ever. He was wearing a midnight blue suit with his iconic black converse on. His hair was freshly cut short but his untamed curls didn’t seem to care as they swirled around his head. He had a new thing for rings too, specifically pink rings which only added an extra bit of spice to him.

“You know, I actually don’t think I’m the fan favourite anymore,” he told Jimmy.

Jimmy gave him an over-exaggerated shocked expression. He looked out into the audience before standing up and raising his arms up and down to encourage them to cheer.

“Make some noise if Dr. Spencer Reid is your favourite character,” he said.

Most of the crowd cheered as loud as they could. Matthew awkwardly smiled as he covered his face to hide the fact he was turning a deeper shade of red. Jimmy sat back down and laughed as he pointed out into the audience.

“The audience never lies,” he said.

“You’re right, you’re right, but I personally think we have a great cast filled with amazing actors,” he chuckled.

“Okay, okay, I’ll hear you out. Who’s your favourite character on the show?” Jimmy asked.

“I love Y/N Y/L/N character Andrea Pike. She’s such a fascinating character on the show,” he said.

You couldn’t help crack a smile at the way his voice brightened up when he mentioned your name. He looked overly excited to discuss your character. You felt Sheena nudge you with her elbow. You looked at her to see her smirking at you.

“I think someone has a little crush on you,” she sang.

You smiled as you felt your face heat up. You turned away from her to look back at the tv screen. You knew she would inquire about your feelings for him if she saw the way you looked. You weren’t quite ready to expose how you felt towards him yet.

“Y/N Y/L/N is such a great actress and I was excited when I found out she joined the Criminal Minds cast,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah, it’s great having her on. She’s so much fun to be around and she always lightens the mood,” Matthew said.

“I’d love to have her on the show one day. Do you think she’d ever come on the show?” Jimmy asked.

“Oh, for sure. You’d love her on your show, she’s so funny and entertaining. That’s what I love most about working with her,” he said.

Slight ‘awe’s’ came from the audience which made Matthew and Jimmy burst out laughing. Matthew looked towards the audience with a sheepish look on his face as he tried to reduce his bright grin. He didn’t have the chance to regain his composure as the band started playing a rendition of ‘Lady in Red.’

He placed both of his hands on his face as he leaned back in his chair trying to hide his embarrassment. Jimmy, of course, was having a blast watching Matthew squirm. Matthew slid his hands down from his face to show his flustered expression to the audience.

“Okay, okay, we’ll give you a break. Anyway, other than Y/N, what else is your favourite thing about working with the Criminal Minds crew?” Jimmy asked.

You watched as they talked about the show. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Matthew as he laughed and talked. His smile could brighten any room and his soft eyes could just melt you into a puddle. You watched the whole thing up until the commercial break. When it went to commercial you didn’t even realize you were still spaced out looking at the screen until Sheena nudged you.

“Girl, it’s your time to position yourself,” Sheena said.

“Oh, right,” you said as you jumped out of your chair.

“Lost in Gublerland huh?” She giggled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you walked towards the door.

You took one step out of the makeup room door before you froze. You turned around to look back at Sheena with an awkward smile. She immediately knew what you were about to ask and giggled.

“Stage right, hun,” she said.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

By the time you reached stage right, the show had come back from a commercial break. You stood there as you watched Jimmy explain to Matthew and the audience the activity he had planned for them. It was called “Need Some Water?” The concept was Matthew and you would read thirst tweets and whenever you thought the tweet was overly thirsty you take a sip of water.

Matthew had no idea he was going to be playing with you though. Jimmy handed him a deck of tweets he had printed and had a separate deck in his hand. He handed him a water bottle. He could barely contain his smile as he saw you standing, waiting for your cue to go on stage.

“We’ve actually gotten another guest to participate in “Need Some Water?” Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N Y/L/N,” Jimmy announced.

Matthew’s head shot over to you as you walked out, waving to the audience with a big smile on. You looked at him and his face was nearly on the floor. He immediately stood up with his arms outstretched for you to come into. It was a magnetic connection instantly as you walked over to him and embraced him in a hug. You knew you shouldn’t hold him too long or else people would talk but the warmth of his arms and the scent of his cologne had you enraptured.

He let go of you slowly but without looking you in the eyes to give you a quick smile. You instantly smiled back. He directed you to your seat with a gesture of his hand and you followed the direction it was pointing at. You both sat down with goofy smiles splattered on your faces.

“Thanks for joining us, Y/N,” Jimmy said.

“Thanks for having me. I’m very excited to read what people say about me,” you said.

He chuckled as he handed you a bottle of water and the deck of tweets. Matthew took them from him to hand to you. He was such a gentleman. You took them from his hands and couldn’t help to feel butterflies fluttering inside your gut.

“You might find a few tweets from Matthew in your deck,” he joked.

“He might find a few of mine in his deck actually,” you joked.

You heard everyone in the audience go “ooo” and knew you sparked something again. You laughed as you looked at Matthew who looked down at his deck, shaking his head trying not to laugh. He wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. Jimmy was having the time of his life cackling at your joke.

“Okay, okay, let’s start. Matthew, go,” Jimmy said.

Matthew turned over the first card and immediately opened his bottle of water. He took a long sip of his water so you knew it was a ridiculously thirsty tweet. Everyone laughed as he finished drinking his water before he even started to read the tweet.

“I would let Matthew Gray Gubler break my back in bed like a glow stick,” he read trying his best not to laugh too much.

You and everyone else freely laughed at the tweet. You excitedly turned over your deck to read your tweet. You covered your mouth trying to conceal your laugh.

“Y/N Y/L/N could just stare at me for a second too long and I would get pregnant,” you read.

“I think valid points were made. I’m currently pregnant with Y/N’s baby as well,” Matthew joked.

“Ugh, I hope it’s an Aries baby,” you joked.

“I dibs on being the Godfather,” Jimmy said.

Everyone laughed before Matthew went back to looking at the tweets in his deck. He chuckled to himself as he read it in his head. He looked up at the audience before bursting out laughing.

“If Matthew Gray Gubler took me out on a date and told me to pay for the bill, I would simply run my bank card deeper into the negatives for that man,” he read.

You laughed. “That’s a true fan.”

You looked at your deck and giggled. You opened up your water and took a long sip because the tweet was extremely thirsty. You saw out of the corner of your eye Matthew was watching you sip your water but he tried to gaze at the tweet in your hand. You didn’t leave him hanging for too long. You cleared your throat before reading it.

“If Y/N Y/L/N ever put an ad on craigslist asking if anyone had a dog up for sale, I’d tell her yes and meet her at her doorstep on all fours ruffing,” you read.

Matthew covered his mouth trying not to laugh too hard. Everyone else in the audience and Jimmy freely laughed. You felt your face get hot from all the laughing you were doing but also the fact you had serious admirers out there.

Matthew cleared his throat before reading his. “Maybe if I pretend to be a bird outside Matthew Gray Gubler’s window long enough he’ll open his window to let me in.”

You laughed. “These pretending to be animal tweets are too wild.”

“Do you have more like that?” Matthew asked.

You looked down at your pile. “No, this one’s actually kinda cute. If I knew Y/N Y/L/N I would love her forever and never let her go. Duh.”

Everyone in the audience ‘awed’ but you noticed Matthew was quite silent at your tweet. You looked at him and noticed he seemed a bit bothered by the tweet. He smiled politely but he wasn’t as energetic as he was before.

“Read yours,” you encouraged.

“Matthew Gray Gubler, please for the love of God, leak your nudes already,” he chuckled.

He took a long sip of his water. You giggled as you looked at your next tweet. You laughed loudly as you read it. Matthew turned to you in curiosity as to what made you so giddy.

“If someone doesn’t kiss Y/N Y/L/N already, I will. I will gladly volunteer and do it forever,” you said.

Everyone had a mix of ‘awe’s’ and laughs except for Matthew who was kind of stoned face. He still smiled politely for the camera but you knew something was wrong. You took a sip of your water as you tried to figure out what expression he was giving off. Was it possibly jealousy?

“That’ll be it for “Need Some Water?” Give a big round of applause to Matthew Gray Gubler and Y/N Y/L/N for coming on the show,” Jimmy said as he stood up to clap for you two.

You both waved at the audience with big grins before getting up to say your goodbye’s to Jimmy. He gave you both big hugs and started to ramble on about how much he appreciated you taking the time to come on the show. He also gushed about being a big fan of Criminal Minds which was always touching to hear.

Once the two of you finally exited the show stage, you grabbed and held onto Matthew’s arm as you two walked. He looked at you with a small smile with quizzical eyebrows trying to figure out what you were doing. You narrowed your eyes at him to look through his nonchalant expression.

“Is someone jealous?” You asked.

“Me? Jealous of tweets? No,” he said as he shook his head.

“I know I’m not a real profiler, but I know jealousy from a mile away,” you said.

“Is that so?” He asked.

You nodded your head. “Of course. You don’t have to be jealous of fans though.”

“I’m jealous they have more guts to tell you they want to be with you more than I do,” he said.

You stopped dead in your tracks. He stopped as well to turn back and look at your floored face. You think that was the closest Matthew had ever been to saying how he truly felt about you.

“You want to be with me? Like for real, for real?” You asked.

He chuckled as he awkwardly looked down at his shoes. He soon looked back up at you with a smile as he nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he softly said.

You pulled his arm towards you and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He looked at you with a soft smile before leaning in to you and you received the message. You pecked each other on the lips quickly before parting as if nothing happened.

“You don’t have to be jealous of thirst tweets. I’d rather the real thing,” you said.

He chuckled. “How about I take you on a real date? Next Saturday sound good to you?”

You smiled wide. “Any day with you would be good to me.”

He smiled. “Great. I’ll text you tonight. See you soon, Y/N.”

“You too.”

You waved goodbye to each other. You stood there as you watched him walk away. To think a talk show would actually make him confess his feelings for you. Maybe you should have agreed to do talk shows with him way earlier if that would have been the result. You weren’t mad about it though because you finally got to be with the man you’ve been thirsting over for months.

—–

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512

MASTERLIST

[sierraraeck]

A Cruel Joke

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You find solace in the arms of a hurting FBI agent after she comes to investigate the death of your best friend.

Category: Angst, implied smut.

Warnings: 15 year age gap between adults (37/22)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: If you don’t like the name Alexa, I’m sorry, just try to imagine that it’s a different name.

A lesbian and a bisexual walk up to a crime scene. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but this situation was very real, and very unfunny.

You’d had a bad feeling. That should have been enough to get you to stay with her, you’re best friend, but you didn’t. You had been selfish.

And now she was dead.

Alexa was dead.

And it was your fault.

Had you just pulled yourself together and been there for her as a friend, stopped worrying about how you felt, she wouldn’t have walked back to your campus apartment from that party alone, and she wouldn’t have been vulnerable to the monster that took her and he wouldn’t have…

But he did, and now you were numbly walking down the sidewalk that led behind the sorority house you’d been partying at and to the local park, not even registering anything that was happening around you.

You’d heard the news before you could even press send on a text making sure she was okay. You’d heard the news, but you had to confirm for yourself. She couldn’t be dead, she just couldn’t be. You saw her only last night, not even six hours ago.

Despite officers and other important people yelling at you to get back, you just kept walking towards the crime scene, taped off with that awful yellow color.

Just as you were about to duck under the tape, approach the group of suits standing with their backs to you in a half circle, you felt a hand on your shoulder, a presence appearing in front of you.

“Miss, I’m sorry but you can’t be here.” It was a delicate voice, belonging to a woman.

“I have to know if it’s her. I just saw her, it can’t be her, I have to know if it’s her,” you mumbled in a panic, still trying to get a glimpse of what was sprawled on the ground in front of the officers. You realized they were staring at you now, but you couldn’t look away. You had to know.

“Miss, please, you shouldn’t be here,” the woman repeated. Her hand was still on your shoulder, and you finally looked her in the eyes, took in her face. Her features were gentle yet strong, and there was something striking about the contrast between her dark hair, fair skin, and pink lips.

You were trembling, something she could feel against her fingertips, and the water brimming in your eyes was enough to let her know how much you cared, probably more than anyone around.

She quickly glanced back at the other men behind her, and the tallest one nodded. With her hand still on your shoulder, she escorted you away from the scene, and away from prying eyes to a secluded park bench.

“Would you like to take a seat?” she asked.

All you could do was nod. Nothing felt real. Her voice sounded like it was reaching your ears by an old, fuzzy radio set up 10 feet away from you. This can’t be happening.

You plopped down on the bench with much less grace than the woman before you, who introduced herself as Agent Prentiss. “But you can call me Emily,” she’d said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you whispered. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you asked, “Is it her? Is it Alexa?”

Emily dodged your question with another question. “Who’s Alexa?” You later realized why she didn’t ask you how you knew her. She didn’t ask because she’d have to ask ‘how did you know her’ and not ‘how do you know her,’ something that surely would have set you off.

“She… she’s my b-best friend,” you mumbled around the lump in your throat.

“You mentioned that you just saw her. When was that?”

“Last night. We decided to crash the party with some of our friends who are actually in the sorority,” you explained meekly. “Please, Emily. Would you please tell me if it’s her? I have to know.”

Emily sighed and gave you a sad look, which was really all you needed, but hearing the words made it final. “Yes. We found identification on her with the name Alexa Stephens. I’m so sorry.”

Your whole heart shattered. You cared about her more than any of her other friends, and you sometimes wondered if you cared about her more than her family. She had a rough childhood and couldn’t stand to be in the same state as them anymore, which is why she transferred halfway through her freshman year. You immediately connected with her and you’d been friends ever since.

Your mind was racing, thinking of all the questions you needed answered, all the things you could have done differently to keep her alive. If you would have just been there…

“It’s not your fault,” the angelic voice broke through the static in your head, as if she could hear your thoughts.

“It is,” you whimpered, “If I had just pulled myself together, we would have walked home together, and she wouldn’t have been alone. Oh god, she died alone.”

“You did nothing wrong. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have. I’m sure you did what you thought was best in the moment.” It didn’t make you feel a whole lot better, but you grasped onto her words in an attempt to calm yourself down. You knew there was still more information she probably needed from you. You took some deep breaths, closing your eyes. A warmth spread its way through your palms, and you realized that the agent had put her hands in yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. You held onto them like an anchor point. “Can I ask you a few more questions, or would you like to take a break?”

In through your nose, out through your mouth. You opened your eyes and nodded. “I want to help in whatever way I can.”

Emily continued to ask you questions about your night and if you remembered anyone suspicious. She asked if there was anyone who was staring at her, to which you told her that would be half the people at the party. Alexa usually had a steady stream of boys coming and going, some she dated and some she didn’t.

You never really understood that. You barely liked one person, let alone multiple back to back or at the same time. But Alexa just had this appeal to her, and while some would disagree with you, you thought she had a big heart. A big, blind heart.

“Thank you so much for your time. Give me a call if you remember anything else, anything at all,” Emily said, handing you her business card, “and I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. I will,” you answered dryly.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up feeling out of sorts. You’d dreamt of her last night. Well, you’d dreamt of them. You saw Alexa laughing, and then you saw her sprawled on the ground, an image your mind had created all by itself, and then you saw Emily. Felt her soothing hand on your shoulder, her warm palms encasing yours.

Then you woke up. The whole thing made you feel weird and sad and tired.

You picked up the business card Emily had given you, twirling it in your hand. You hadn’t remembered anything new, but you felt safe around her. Noticed, important, like you mattered. You realized just how much you were lacking that from Alexa, from your other friends.

Simply calling her wouldn’t do, though. You wanted to see the woman that for once in your life made you feel like you didn’t have to pretend you were okay. She knew you had lost someone close to you, and didn’t expect you to keep it together.

What were you saying? You put the card down, remembering that you’d only spoken to her for all of 30 minutes and she was just doing her job. Nothing more, nothing less. You also had the wherewithal to know that you were probably only grasping at any minute display of affection since you’d just lost the one person you so desperately wanted it from but could never get it. It made you feel pathetic and angry.

God you were also just so tired.

Classes were not going to happen, so you just laid back down, hoping to be swept into another dream.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

A knock at the door woke you up. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you didn’t really care as you walked to the door.

Without looking through the peephole, you eked the door open. Emily was standing there along with another agent you’d seen at the crime scene.

“Hello. Y/N, right?” the blond asked. You nodded. “My name is Jennifer Jareau, and I believe you’ve met Emily.”

Emily smiled at you and you forced a small smile back. “What can I do for you?”

You invited them in and they asked you a few more questions. However, you were only half paying attention to what they were saying, and more paying attention to the way the two women were interacting. You’d sensed a tension the minute they walked in, but it seemed to be one sided. You figured it out by about the eighth time Emily glanced over at Jennifer. You recognized the look in her eyes: a mixture of love and hurt. You’d seen it too many times in the mirror not to pick up on it. But what really caught your eye was how many times Emily’s gaze traveled down to Jennifer’s hands. Specifically her left one with a shiny diamond on it. One look at Emily’s hand, and well, it wasn’t too difficult to put the rest together.

“Thank you again for your time,” Jennifer said, shaking your hand. Emily was slower to move, making eye contact with the other agent, some message you were not privy to passing between them. Jennifer gave you a tight lipped smile and left, but Emily stayed.

“I wanted to give you this,” Emily explained, holding out her hand. There was a small necklace in it, one you recognized immediately. “She was still wearing it and I thought you might want it back.”

You took it out of her hand, admiring the small heart pendant that dangled at the end. You’d bought it for Alexa for her 21st birthday. Her last birthday. “Thank you so much,” you said as you started to tear up. Just when you thought you’d cried yourself dry.

“Of course.” You thought Emily was going to leave after that, but she lingered a moment longer. You looked up at her, and she bit her lip, probably trying to decide if she should ask her next question or not. “She wasn’t your best friend, was she?”

You gave a weak smile, dropping eye contact. “That depends. Are you asking her or me?”

“I’m asking you.”

“No, she wasn’t. She meant more to me than that. But I never meant more to her. I sometimes wondered if I even meant that much to her,” your voice wavered.

“I’m sure you did,” Emily tried to reassure, but you weren’t buying it.

“Hope so,” you muttered. Looking back up at Emily, you held her eyes this time. “What about you and Jennifer?”

Her response was immediate. “What?” She sounded shocked, but you could tell she was trying to play it off.

You offered a single laugh. “I may not be a genius FBI analyst or profiler or whatever, but I know a hurting gay when I see one.”

Her mouth was still open, like she was going to try to come up with an excuse, but instead she just sighed. “That obvious?”

“Clearly not to Jennifer.” You shrugged. “Looks like I’m not the only one to lose someone recently.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Emily shook her head.

“You don’t need to downplay your pain,” you told her. “I know how bad that hurts. Why do you think I left that party early?”

A look of understanding flashed through her eyes. “A constant stream of guys…” Emily quoted your from earlier.

“Yeah,” you shrugged again. “Sometimes it’s just too hard to watch. Sometimes it’s just too hard to listen. When she’d come back to me crying over a break up when I was sitting right there… it’s painful. And that night I just couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t watch her waste her time on another guy who was going to hurt her. So I left. Look where that got me,” you mumbled the last part.

Emily gave a sad, bitter laugh. “She asked me to be her maid of honor.”

You sighed with her. “I’m sorry.” You had barely noticed the tear that escaped her eye before she forcefully brushed it away.

Something changed in her demeanor when she realized a tear had escaped, speaking faster as she headed towards the door. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. You already have a lot on your plate, and I don’t need to be unloading my personal issues on you. Again, I’m sorry, I will make sure-”

“Emily,” you cut her off, grabbing her arm and turning her towards you as she was about to reach for the doorknob. You weren’t sure what you’d been planning on doing once you stopped her, and the first thing you thought to do was hug her. You pulled her in close and wrapped your arms around her. She seemed shocked, but put her arms around you like it was the most natural thing in the world for the two of you to be doing.

You don’t know how long you stood there, but you would’ve stayed there forever if you could. The warmth and safety of her arms was something you’d never really experienced before.

When she pulled back from your embrace, you realized you’d both been silently crying. Her fingers traveled over your jaw, and her thumbs brushed away your tears. Your faces were only inches apart, but something in the back of your head told you that it wasn’t the right time.

Instead, you leaned forward and kissed away her tears, pressing your lips to her cheekbones. You felt her eyelashes on your face, a feeling you tried to commit to memory. A feeling you never got to experience with Alexa. One you never would.

“Y/N,” she whispered. You heard everything in the way she said your name, a warning that no matter how badly the two of you wanted this right now, it wasn’t a good decision.

“I know,” you whispered back, resting your forehead on hers, “Just please. Please let me live in my head for a little while longer.”

You stood there for a few more moments, her hands cupping your face and your hands on her back before she completely pulled away. “I will make sure we do everything we can to find the man who did this.”

“I know,” you repeated. “Thank you, Emily.”

She offered another small smile, but this time it felt a bit more sincere. With that, she left to continue fighting the monster that had ripped the earth out from under you.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Three more days and another victim later, the case was closed. Emily and her team had caught the bastard, putting him away for good.

You felt like you owed it to her, to the whole team, to go down to the local station they were set up in and thank them.

The moment you walked in, Emily spotted you. She put down whatever pictures and maps were in her hand, and rushed over to you. Without exchanging a word you embraced, similarly to how you’d done a few days ago, although much shorter this time as you were in public.

“We got him.” Her voice was assured and her lips curved in just the smallest way as she studied your face.

“I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough,” you told her. You looked over her shoulder to the conference room she’d just abandoned, catching the majority of the other members looking your way. “Is that your team?”

Emily turned around to follow your gaze, most of the others looking away as she did so. “Um, yes. That is them.” You couldn’t exactly figure out what subtle meaning was in her tone of voice, but ultimately chose to ignore it.

“Can I… um, well, can I talk to them? I want to thank them,” you quickly explained. Emily turned around to give you a shy smile.

“Sure,” she agreed, heading towards the conference room. You figured that was your cue to follow her, so you did, trialing close behind her.

She pushed open the doors and introduced you. Of course, they all knew who you were as you’d been a mess when you showed up on their crime scene, and had apparently been a ‘big help’, which the tallest man with a stern face, told you.

“Oh, I didn’t really do anything,” you waved him off. “You did all the hard work, which I wanted to thank you all for. It means a lot that you were here and able to close this case. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” a tall, strong-built man replied. “Happy that we could help.”

“But a lot of the credit should go to Emily,” a thin man with curly hair stated, a small smirk on his face, “She really did most of the work.”

Emily opened her mouth to protest as she gave both men a dangerous side eye, to which all they did was fail to suppress a smile. You stopped her before she could refute, “Well, thank you.” The message was broad, directed towards everyone, but your eyes lingered on Emily.

She gave you a single nod, and you quickly glanced around the room at the agents that helped get justice for Alexa before heading out the door. You looked back at Emily before you left, her eyes following you out while the two tall men behind her were passing knowing looks. You caught a glimpse of the blonde agent staring at the whole interaction, then biting her lip and looking away. You looked back towards Emily and the two male agents, the bald one shaking his head in what you could only guess was amusement, something you felt a little flattered about. Again, you weren’t a profiler, but you could read the classic signs of friends teasing friends over something like a crush. You hoped your brain wasn’t too foggy from the whirlwind that your life had become to mistake those signs for something they weren’t.

You were just getting into your car and pulling the driver’s side door shut when the passenger side swung open. Emily plopped down in the passenger seat of your car, quickly shutting the door. Surprised to see her, you just sat there like a fool looking at her.

She glanced over at you, biting her lip, a little bit of mischief in her eyes. “Are you going to drive or should I?”

In response, you finished shutting your door and started the car. “What took you so long?” you teased. “Was it Jennifer?”

“Let’s not talk about Jennifer,” Emily responded, a level of conviction in her voice you hadn’t heard yet.

“No, let’s not,” you agreed. Let’s not talk at all. You leaned across the console, bringing her face to yours with a hand on her cheek. She kissed you back, deeply. Oh what it was like to kiss someone you had feelings for, and not only kiss them, but have them kiss you back. You hadn’t realized just how starved you’d been of this feeling.

You pulled back first, needing to get some air back in your lungs. You plopped back down in your chair a little dazed.

Emily wetted her lips. “I know you wanted to do that before. Why’d you wait?”

“I waited to help you. To help get justice for Alexa,” you briefly explained, pulling out of the parking lot. “I know how important it is to have a clear head.”

“And now?”

“The investigation is over, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Emily confirmed.

“Then I am done waiting. That was the biggest mistake I ever made with her. I waited to tell her until she… until it was too late. I’m never going to do that again. Never.” It was a promise you intended on keeping.

“I did the same thing,” Emily shared, her voice getting quieter.

“I know. So let’s both just agree to be honest and forward with what we want,” you suggested.

“And what is it that you want?”

“You,” you confessed.

The drive from the precinct to your apartment was short, and you were there within the next couple minutes or so.

Taking Emily’s hand, you led her up the stairs and through the door of your apartment. The moment you shut and locked it, Emily was there, pulling you close and kissing you with much more passion than she had before. You pushed off her blazer and started frantically working on the buttons of her dress shirt. You had to part for a moment, just long enough for her to pull your shirt over your head. You were going in to kiss her again, when she stopped you.

“Woah, woah,” she whispered. “Slow down. I want to savor every last moment of this.”

Her eyes tore down your figure, fingers brushing over your collar bones, down around the swell of your breasts and over your stomach. When they reached the top of your jeans, she looked up at you. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to be pushing you to do something you’re not ready for yet. I don’t want you waking up regretting this because you still haven’t taken the time you need to grieve Alexa.”

“Let’s not talk about Alexa,” you copied what Emily had said about Jennifer earlier. “I want to be here with you. Will you let me be here with you?”

She slowly nodded, and the moment she did, you put your lips back on hers. They were soft, just a bit swollen, and she swiped her tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave it to her without question, and did you best to resume the work on her dress shirt buttons. Your tongues tangoed as you finally got her shirt off her.

As you led her to your room, you were thankful you didn’t have to pass Alexa’s, and even though no one else lived in your apartment anymore, you shut the door out of habit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up just before the early morning sun, drinking in the sight of the sleeping woman next to you. Your legs were tangled in the sheets, arms wrapped around each other.

Even though you’d had the entire night to admire her body, you couldn’t keep yourself from looking over her in awe. The way her face looked so at peace when she was sleeping and the way her dark hair messily fanned around her head made her look too perfect to be real. Everything that happened must’ve been a figment of your imagination, and the little solace you found in her felt like it was going to evaporate with your dreams.

And in a way, it was.

Once she woke up, she’d fly back across the country and go back to working her job like she’d never even met you. Maybe she hooked up with girls all over the country. She didn’t really strike you as that type, but you didn’t really know her.

The universe was playing a cruel joke on you. When you had the chance to spend years with the girl you were in love with, you didn’t have the guts to tell her how you felt, and now that you did, you only had a day or so with her. But in the end, both would leave. Both would be out of your life forever.

You’d been so caught up in these thoughts that you hadn’t noticed Emily peek her eyes open. The sun had just started shining through the blinds, and she squinted against the light. She was also able to see the wet streaks glinting against your skin.

That jolted her awake, sitting up on her elbow. “Hey,” she soothed, cupping your face, “What’s going on?”

You placed your hand on top of hers and wiped at your tears with the other. “You’re perfect,” you told her, voice barely above a whisper, “And you’re leaving. Everyone leaves.”

Instead of responding, Emily tucked you under her arm and held you while your wept. She whispered sweet nothings into your hair and cradled the back of your head. You held onto her like she was the only thing keeping you together, keeping the withering pieces you called yourself from crumbling completely.

But, as you’d said, at some point she’d have to go. She’d have to pick up her things and head back to her life. You were going to have to figure out how to manage on your own.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you apologized to her. She told you that she was there for you, and that you’d always have her number, which helped you feel a little better. Just as she was finishing putting on her clothes and heading toward the door, you said, “You know it’s not too late to tell Jennifer your feelings, right?” Emily gave you a sad look, one that told you it was too late, but you persisted. “She’s only engaged, and engagements can be broken. I saw the way she looked at you yesterday.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said she was oblivious?” Emily countered.

“True, but I was paying a lot more attention to you that day,” you informed her, which made her lips turn up. “But I’m talking about back at the precinct. As I was leaving and you were looking at me, and those two male agents were making eyes about the whole thing, I saw how she looked at you. She was jealous, and I think a little sad too. I’m just telling you that the worst thing that could happen if you tell her is she says no. The worst that could happen if you don’t tell her is you miss out on a life with her. Or before you know it, she’s getting hurt in the field and you end up right back here, just like me. Please, Emily. You have a chance to go for it, to tell her how you feel, something I was too stupid not to take advantage of when I could. Do it before it eats away at you any longer.” It was a plea by the time you finished.

Emily had never looked at you with pity before that moment, but there was a hint of the feeling in her eyes when you finished, like she thought you were desperate or naive. And, maybe you were, but you also thought that some of the pity might have been for herself.

You stood up out of bed, and approached her. She was standing frozen in the doorway, and the look of pity disappeared when you whispered, “It’s not too late.”

Emily pressed her lips to yours, in a slow, delicate way, one that felt like a goodbye. When she pulled back, her eyes were still closed and she barely spoke against your lips. “I hope you’re right.”

You looked deep into her eyes once she finally opened them, trying to remember the shape and the color, and how it felt to get lost in them. But then they were gone again, replaced by the hair on the back of her head as she walked away. She gave you one last small, sad smile before walking out the door of your apartment. That, you knew, would be it.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

~11 months later~

Voicemail from: Emily Prentiss

“Hey Y/N. It’s me, Emily. I know we haven’t talked since the last time I saw you, and I know this phone call is kind of out of the blue… but, uh, I just felt like I should call you and tell you this myself. You were right. It wasn’t too late, and I told her. I told Jennifer how I really felt, and she broke off the engagement to be with me. We’ve been together now for about ten months, and um… well, this time around we both have rings on our fingers. So I guess what I’m really trying to say is thank you. Had it not been for you, or what you said to me that last night, I would have had to be the maid of honor at her wedding and watched while she married someone else, and the guilt would have eaten me alive. So thank you. You’ve changed my life. I hope that things are going well for you because you deserve everything that’s right in the world. Really, you do. And you always have my number if you ever need anything. Okay, um, I guess that’s all. Goodbye Y/N.”

#

#

Taglist

@90spumkin

[mtab2260]

Okay, first off, before I go off on a rant I must state that I am a man. So I could very well be an absolute uneducated dick right now but I'm going to go ahead and say it anyway.

The THIRD time in THIRTY-TWO movies and ELEVEN tv shows is not fucking bad

That is not fucking bad at all

Things like this happen and just because it happens to be a woman this time is not a sexist act. It's storytelling. All characters dying serves a purpose whether it be to further the plot, further another character's development, show the gravity of the situation to the viewers, show bullshit poetry, finalize the dead character's story, or a bunch of other shit that I can't think of right now so I won't name. Characters die, that's the story.

Maria Hill being a woman in this case truthfully has nothing to do with it as her death already fits into three of those categories. Her death further's the plot, because now Fury is gonna do shit that he wouldn't have done before, and her death is motivation. And no, that is not furthering another character's development as it is considering choices that lead the plot. While her death definitely does further Fury's development though, I give you that. Hill was his... one of his hands or eye, I don't remember-- for years and she just got fuckin shot in the blink of an eye by a Skrull wearing his face, it's motherfucking personal now.

And finally, her death shows us the gravity of the situation. You saw how seamless that was? Three seconds of Fury literally just saying Hill's name and raising his hand in greeting, then seeing the relief on Hill's face after seeing her friend in the chaos and immediately going towards him because it's instinct and then just getting fucking shot in the gut because it's not Fury and that's the point. Anyone could be anyone. They took the opening scene and made it have gravity on another level because a character we have cared about for years is now dead because of how severe this threat is.

But my point to this is, they didn't kill her off to follow a sexist narrative. They had a legitimate (stupid bloody-ass damn) reason.

Besides, are they now never allow to kill off a woman because it could be considered sexist? Now this is me genuinely trying to understand here, what are they supposed to do so that someone out there doesn't consider it filling that sexist narrative?

Because if you reverse the rolls, no one ever complains or points it out in anger. And I'm not saying they should. But it has happened in the reverse and if you're talking about this why aren't you talking about those times?

For instance, Trip dying in season two of Agents of Shield. That was totally for furthering Skye's development and guilt. And yes, everyone was outraged but because his death was fucking bullshit and people complained that they couldn't keep more than one black character on at a time. But it did further Daisy's plot and guilt and making her run away from SHIELD at the end of season three all that more believable. Plus it sent Simmons into a "hate everything alien" mindset because it got personal from a close friend dying. So that fits two of my purposeful death categories. But also, it was a man dying to advance, hah get this, TWO Women's plots.

Then also, more recently, Peter Parker from Spider-Gwen Stacy's universe in the Spiderverse's death also furthers Gwen's plot. I mean, it is literally stated so specifically that these deaths need-to-happen to build spider-person development. And in also simple terms, it is a man dying to further a woman's plot.

So that's two examples in the reverse and I'm sure there's more, but those are the only ones that have come to mind in the small five minutes it took me to write this.

But, still, regardless, that's okay? But the other isn't?

I don't understand.

I cannot believe Marvel once again advanced the Man’s plot by killing off a Lead Female. This is what, the THIRD TIME now?

[sunlight-moonrise]

Satisfied Curiosity (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Bartender!Reader does everything she can to get the cute FBI agent’s attention. 

A/N: This wasn’t suppose to be so long or late, but my mind got the best of me. Big Thanks to @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and @reidetic​​ for being amazing Betas (you guys are precious!). This story would be utterly unintelligible without them. Also thank you to everyone who showed love to my first fic. I didn’t expect for it to receive half of the attention it was given. I’m super grateful and I hope to provide more for you all. Enjoy!

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Sexting, Oral (Male Receiving), Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation

Word Count: 9.1K (sorry, not sorry)

Masterlist

I’d like to think that I’m able to read people pretty well. Since working as a bartender for the past five years, I can examine an individual and have their personality down pat. Facial expressions, body language, posture, gestures. All these things are basically words to a story that I am able to put together.

My thought process was cut off when I noticed these two guys sitting at the end of the bar. I regarded them momentarily. They don’t look like the typical bar patron, their clothing a little too unseemly for a place like this. They were surveying the area as if looking for something. 

I got a side profile of the tan Hispanic man. He had dark curly hair and trimmed facial hair. He was talking lowly to the man he was sitting with, their eyes still skimming all over their surroundings. I couldn’t get a good look at the other guy since his back was to me.

They sat tall, their bodies alert to any movement. It was as if it was their first time at a bar, but I know they were not uncomfortable here. There were no jittery movements from what I can see; no telltale signs that they were nervous. They also were not paying much attention to the people around them, focusing more on random spots within the place. Weird. Are they inspectors? Nah, that can’t be. Drew always gives us a heads up when visitors come. Plus, we got checked a few weeks ago.

The two finally turned towards my direction, and I was able to see the other guy. Wow, he was hot. Like very hot. Loose brown curls sat wildly on his head, looking as if he just rolled out of bed. He had a light stubble going on, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. Damn, I bet I’d cut myself just touching it. He had a beautiful pair of pink lips. I quickly turned my attention to his left hand, noticing the lack of a ring. No wife, good. Now I need to make sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend or fiancée waiting for him at home.

I trailed my eyes upward, noticing that he was staring at me as well. I felt my face heat up when I saw him smirk. Damn, he caught me checking him out. His companion was also looking at me expectantly. They probably have been trying to get my attention for a while now, most likely to order some drinks. I made my way towards them, smoothing my hands over my jeans.

“Evening fellas, would you like to see a menu?” I asked as I placed some napkins in front of them.

“No thanks, but my partner and I would like to ask you some questions…” said the Hispanic man with a small pause. He quickly looked at my name tag before looking back at me “…(Y/N)”

The fuck? Partners? I didn’t think they were a couple. I did a quick glance over at them. Two Alpha males in a relationship rarely ever work out. They were not physically close to one another either. Sigh, you always fall for the ones you can’t get.

I didn’t answer them, still mentally distraught over this taken man. I’m sure they took my silence as confusion because the Hispanic man went on to explain, “I’m Luke Alvez and this here is Dr. Spencer Reid,” they flashed their badges, showing me some credentials. “We’re with the FBI.” Oh. I glanced toward Dr. Reid, a smile tugging on my lips. Score, we’re back in business.

I figured I might be here for a while so I got myself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as I can get standing behind a bar. I leaned towards them, my hands resting on the bar top. “Well, in that case, fire away.”

“Have you noticed any males here who arrived by themselves? This man likely sits alone, only interacts with women. He presents himself as a charming gentleman. His head would be facing downwards if he were sitting at the bar and he would probably wear some kind of hat to shield himself,” asked Luke.

“That’s roughly 50% of my male patrons, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Yea, I should have figured that is not much to go by.”

I turned my attention back to the doctor who has yet to say a word, noticing that he was once again looking at random spots around the bar. “Your friend here is awfully quiet.”

At my comment, Spencer finally looked at me. I am sure that time stopped as his honey-colored eyes stared deeply into my own. If it wouldn’t come off strange, I’d stared at them all day.

He eventually turned away from me, “This place has a lot of blind spots.” He pointed to one corner by the back and another near the billiards table. It took a moment for me to comprehend what he was saying since I was distracted by the sound of his voice. He could probably recite Shakespeare and I’d think it was erotica.

He continued talking, oblivious of my swooning. “The man we are looking for does not want to be seen, he’ll know where to be so that the camera can’t spot him. He’ll likely bring the woman he’s talking to there or even over there,” he pointed to another spot, this time it was a small crook partially hidden behind a wall.

“The area by the restroom entrance also has no camera at all so he’ll possibly spend some time there as well,” he finished.

“I’d think I’ll notice some creep hanging near the bathrooms all night,” I remarked. “However, we have a security room in the back if you want to look over some footage.” I pointed to a door opposite the kitchen’s entrance.

“That’ll be very useful, thanks,” Luke reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He turned to Spencer saying “I’ma call Garcia, see if she can run some facial recognition on this guy.” With that, he walked to the security room.

I focused my attention back on Spencer, hoping he’ll stay here a bit longer. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” he said, the damn smirk on his face once again. Smartass. 

“Haha, I’m serious,” He didn’t say anything, which I took as my cue to continue. “What exactly does someone like you do in the FBI?”

“Someone like me?” he repeated.

“Well, you do not look like a typical agent,” I stated, and he just raised a single eyebrow at me. “Not to say that you’re probably bad at your job. I’m sure that you’re amazing at whatever it is that you do. I’d just like to know exactly what it is. Like what does your job entail…” Great, out of all times for my motor mouth to talk off, it chose this moment.

Spencer didn’t say anything and the awkward pause was killing me. I wanted to grab his gun and shoot myself in the foot. He probably thought I was insulting him. He continued to watch me as I fidgeted under his stare.

Finally, he decided to show me some mercy. “I use psychology to profile and find people,” he put it simply.

“That’s it?” I questioned.

“Pretty much,” he stated evenly, focusing his attention on the napkin in front of him. His body was slightly tenser than before, telling me that he was uncomfortable. I decided to drop the topic.

I scanned his being in an attempt to find something, anything that would allow me to continue talking to him. He beat me to it. “Which Sherlock portrayal are you a fan of?”

I was momentarily confused as to how he knew I was a fan. “Um, I started watching BBC’s Sherlock but I find the books to be much more interesting than the show. Are you a fan?”  

“Of the books, yes. I haven’t had the chance to watch any of the series or films. I always find that reading offers a better experience. That’s a nice pin you have by the way.” 

Pin? I looked down and remembered my “I am Sherlocked” pin clasped next to my name tag. Gosh, I feel like an idiot. Just when I was going to reply, I saw Luke stepping out of the security room. 

I turned back towards Spencer, who was digging his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a card and gave it to me. “The number of the precinct we are helping is on here. If you have any further information, you should contact them.”

What, no. I don’t want him to leave yet. “But what if I want to talk to you more?”

“My number is on the back.” I flipped the card around and was greeted by a ten-digit code sprawled out in blue ink.

A smile adorned my face as I looked back at him. “How did you do that?” There’s not even a pen near his hands. Unless he carries all these cards with his number on it, which I severely doubt.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he stated.

“I’m a naturally curious person.”

He paused for a moment to dart his tongue across his lips. He made sure to look into my eyes before saying “You know that curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

He gave a low laugh, “Touché.”

Just then Luke walked back to us, his phone to his ear. “C’mon man. The team needs us back at the station. There’s been another victim.” 

“We’ll talk later,” Spencer said to me. My heart skipped a beat at his words. I felt like a kid who had a childhood crush.

Spencer got up and with one last glance at my direction, the two of them headed out the door.

Well, there goes the best part of my day. I’m being selfish wishing that he would have stayed behind. The man is here to find a criminal, not get his dick sucked. I folded the card and slid it into my pocket before grabbing a rag. These shot glasses aren’t going to clean themselves.

●The Next Day●

I spent the last few hours debating on whether or not I should text Spencer. I tried to distract myself with mundane activities. I watched TV, did my chores, even attempted to read a book, but nothing kept my interest. I grabbed the card that was sitting idly on my dresser, pondering on what to do.

You shouldn’t. But I’m bored and he’s cute. He’s an FBI agent for crying out loud. He got important things to do. What’s the worst that can happen? You could get arrested for obstruction of justice. Or I can get closer to him and find out more about him.

It is settled. I added Spencer’s number to my contacts and perched myself on my bed before sending a short text.

‘Hello Dr. Reid.’ I waited a minute, then two, then three, anxiously hoping for a response back. This was a bad idea, he’s probably at another bar trying to catch this guy. I should just delete his number and make myself a sandwich.

Right when I was going to do just that, my phone vibrated. I never opened my messages so fast in my life.

‘(Y/N). Is everything okay?’

A smile broke across my face as I pondered on what to send him. Should I keep everything cute and sweet? Nah. That’s boring. Should I send some salacious texts? No, he’ll probably think I am some kind of skank. Perhaps I should go for the playful persona?

I finally decided to type out a message, not wanting him to wait any longer. I don’t need him thinking that I’m in actual danger because I don’t know how to respond to a simple text.

‘I’m more than okay now that you’re here.’

I didn’t have to wait long before his next text came in. ‘Is there something that you need?’

Oh Spencer, if only you knew. However, what I want cannot be attained at the moment. I quickly typed across my keypad, ‘That’s a loaded question.’

Apparently he did not like that since his next reply was, ‘I don’t have time for this. I am working right now.’

Well shit, should I stop? Hell no, we are in too deep. Besides, he could always choose to ignore my messages instead of responding. And he did give me his number instead of just leaving me with the precinct’s. With that in mind, I typed out a text and quickly pressed send before I started second-guessing my choices again.

‘So you don’t want to talk to me?’

Again, I didn’t have to wait long for his next message to come through. ‘You should only contact me if you have information pertinent to the man we are looking for.’

That’s bullshit. Why give me your number if you didn’t want me to talk to you? ‘You said we’ll continue the conversation later. It’s later.’

‘Later, When I am not working.’ he clarified.

If I were a smart girl, I would have left this alone so that he could work peacefully. But I’m not. ‘All work and no play makes for a grumpy doctor. Don’t you want some entertainment?’

‘You’re acting childish.’

I couldn’t help but grin at his statement. If only he knew. Well, I could drop him a hint or two. ‘I’ve been compared to a brat before.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘I’m a glutton for punishment, agent.’

‘Do you want me to deliver?’

My breath caught in my throat. Could it be? Does Dr. Reid have a darker side to him? Or maybe I’m reading too deeply into this. I don’t care, I’m having too much fun at the possibility of this man having a more unhinged side to him. I wanted to see it. I decided to be cheeky with him, ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you Sir.’

‘What are you trying to get at?’ One step forward and two steps back. I guess profiling and mind-reading are not one and the same if he has to ask me this. Or maybe he isn’t used to someone asking him to dick them down without outright saying they want him to dick them down.

‘I said it already, I just want to talk to you.’

It took a couple of minutes for his reply to come through. ‘We’ll talk later.’

I decided to give Spencer a break. I got what I wanted with his earlier comment. I ended everything with an ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ and put my phone down. I looked at the clock on my bedside table and saw that an hour had passed. I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. I might as well start getting ready for work.

●●●

Four hours into my shift and the crowd near the bar was barely manageable. I’m not a big fan of working Friday evenings. I easily get annoyed with the sloppy drunks who think they could hook up with any of the workers but the tips usually make up for it at the end of the night.

I was grabbing some bottles of beer when all of a sudden I got a twisted feeling in my gut. I felt the hairs in the back of my neck stand up, and not in a good way. Call it a sixth sense, but I suspected that something was wrong, very wrong. I placed the bottles down and looked at the countless customers littered around the bar top. My eyes landed on this man who was giving off some creepy vibes.

I’d like to think I had a pretty good memory and this guy was definitely new. He was hunched over, eyes looking at the menu on the table. He was rapidly tapping his finger on top of the table, so I assumed he was feeling uneasy. Every once in a while, his head would peek up, as if he was searching the crowd for someone. He had a baseball cap on, the hat pressed tightly down on his head, his blond hair barely peeking through.  

From what I can see he was attractive enough. A full-on beard decorated his face. He had on a leather jacket and a fitted shirt; seemingly trying to give off bad boy vibes. I started making my way towards him, “Is there anything you’d like to order?”

“That depends, are you on the menu?” Ugh. Gag. If I had a dollar for every time some Casanova wannabe used that line on me, I could pay for two months of my rent. He had a smile on his face that could be charismatic but I just found it downright disturbing.

“Food and drinks only. Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s fine sweetheart, I’ll have whatever beer y’all got on tap.” As I walked away, I could feel his eyes leering at me. Should I text Spencer? No, I dealt with creeps before, this is nothing new. 

I turned back to where Mr. Creepy Guy was previously sitting but he was no longer occupying the seat. Fuck. I took a look around the crowded pub, hoping to spot him. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you see it, I did. He was near the bathroom entrance talking to some girl who hardly looked like she could keep herself up.

Shit, I should get Spencer right now. I pondered on whether I should call him but figured that he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the volume of the crowd. I hurriedly pull my phone out of my pocket, trying my best to send the message as fast as my shaky hands can manage.

‘I’m pretty sure the man you’re looking for is here. You should bring some officers ASAP.’

Come on, Come on, Come on, have your cell on you. My phone vibrated, alerting me of a message. Oh thank god yes. ‘Are you serious?’ it read.

What the? Does he think I’m pranking him or something? I angrily typed on my screen, ‘This isn’t exactly something I will joke about Spencer.’

‘We’ll be there soon’ came his simple response. Okay, good. Now I just need to make sure that this guy doesn’t try to escape.

I looked back up and saw Mr. Creepy Guy still near the restrooms. One of his hands was holding on to the girl’s arm and I just knew he was trying to get her out of here. Spencer and company won’t arrive fast enough. I have to do something to make him stay longer.

I turned to my co-bartender, Manny, “I am going to take a 10 minute break.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I opened the small door dividing us from the crowd and made my way to Mr. Creepy Guy.

Once I got to the two of them, I spewed the first thing that came to mind, “Uh, excuse me. You um, forgot your drink. You know, the beer. That you ordered. At the bar earlier. About 10 minutes ago.” God, I looked like an idiot, but I couldn’t risk saying something that made him apprehensive.

Mr. Creepy guy sneered at me, “Yeah. I didn’t want it anymore.” Well, who shit in your cereal, mister. Oh right, that would be me. I gotta keep him a bit more distracted.

“Well if you order something, you gotta pay for it. Bar’s policy.” He continued to glare at me upset that I was being a cockblocker. Or more appropriately a murderblocker. Realizing that I wasn’t going away soon, he pulled a bill from his pocket before throwing it at me.  Wow I wonder where his pleasant attitude disappeared to.

I turned my attention to this poor girl and noticed she wasn’t looking too good. I assumed she was drunk but she looked way off it; as if she had been drugged or something.

Fucking hell, she probably has been. She can’t stand on her own two feet and she could barely stop her eyes from drooping downwards.

“Your friend here doesn’t look too good,” I commented, my hand already going towards the arm he wasn’t currently holding on to.

“She’s fine. We were just about to leave, right Sarah?” he asked the girl. ‘Sarah’ didn’t say a word, too busy trying her best to not crash down on the floor.

“Nonsense, we can’t have you leaving in such a state, it would look bad on us,” I improvised. “We’ll give her something real quick to help sober her up.” I hastily scanned the room, spotting Hannah, one of my coworkers, a few feet away.

“Hey Hannah,” I shouted, garnering her attention. I gestured for her to come here and she started walking over. When she stood in front of us, I pried ‘Sarah’ out of Mr. Creepy Guy’s hold and gently ushered her into Hannah’s arms.

“This is Sarah and she’s not feeling all that well. Can you tell Manny to give her the Queen’s special?” Hannah instantly knew what was up. The Queen’s special is our code name for helping those who we believe are in an uncomfortable or dangerous situation. Most of the time, the person is coherent enough to ask for help, but for these kinds of scenarios we’ll have to rely on our own wits.

The two walked, or in Sarah’s case, stumbled away. Hannah managed to give Mr. Creepy Guy a glare which he openly returned in my direction. I gave him a small smile, hoping he didn’t get suspicious and try to leave.

“She’ll be right back, would you like that beer while you wait?” I asked. 

“No, you did enough,” He jeered, taking slow steps back. I could have sworn he muttered ‘fucking bitch’ as he disappeared in the crowd, no doubt hightailing it out of here.

Crap, I should follow him. At least I’ll be able to tell the cops what direction he went or what his license plate number is. I started walking to the exit, shoving my way through the sweaty mass of people.

Once I got to the door, I pushed it open feeling the cool air hit my face. I looked around, trying to see if I could find Mr. Creepy Guy but to no avail. I walked a few steps down, searching to see if he went down an alley or something.

The place was eerily quiet and my nerves were starting to get the best of me. I suddenly felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and let out an ear-piercing scream. I whirled around, my hand already in a fist to punch the living daylight out of this person.

Right when my hand was going to make contact, a hand closed around my fist. No problem, I’ll just kick you in the shin. My leg was about to leave the ground when I heard a stern “Calm down (Y/N).”

I know that voice. For the first time, I looked up and saw that it was Spencer behind me. I never realized beforehand how easily he towered over my form. He released my hand and I leaned my body against the wall next to me. The adrenaline from earlier leaving me.

“What the fuck Spencer, a little warning next time,” I angrily shouted at him. “You could have said my name before grabbing me or just tapped my shoulder. I don’t like being manhandled.”

“I severely doubt that,” he whispered. Wait, what. “Is the man still inside?” he asked in a louder voice than before.

“Um no. That’s the reason why I came out here. I was trying to find where he went.”

“And you decided to check an alleyway.” I casted my eyes down, paying attention to a piece of gravel on the floor. The tone of voice he was using made me feel as if I was in trouble. “Do you know what kind of danger you just put yourself in?  What if it was him behind you instead of me just now?” he chastised.

“I was fighting back,” I retorted.

“And you were losing that fight. You had no weapon of any kind to help defend yourself. You are no match for a fully grown male who sees girls like you as nothing but property,” Spencer snapped.

I felt miffed that he was scolding me about my safety but a pathetic part of me was turned on as well. I decided to switch this conversation back to what was important. “He’s a Caucasian man. About 5’9 with dirty blonde hair and facial hair. He had a Salem Red Sox cap and a faux black leather jacket. Burgundy henley shirt with black washed jeans and white Adidas,” I recounted from my memory.

He recited everything word for word into his radio. “Go back inside, we’ll take care of it from here.”

“You’re fucking welcome by the way,” I sarcastically stated. Before I could blink, Spencer slammed his hands on either side of my head and was staring intently into my eyes. I felt my heart rate pick up instantly. I didn’t know whether to be scared or horny so my body decided on both.

He had a carnal look in his eyes and I felt a light shiver run down my spine. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. It was as if it happened in slow motion, my eyes hungrily following the movement. He opened his mouth to speak and I was eagerly anticipating his words.

“Reid, come in. We need you for backup.” What the..? It was then that I noticed his comms were still on and one of his team members was trying to get his attention.

“Go back inside,” Spencer repeated, “We’ll continue this later.” Yeah fucking right. This is the third time you’ve told me this in the thirty hours I’ve known you. Nevertheless, I obeyed but it wasn’t because he told me; it was because I got paid by the hour and I was already gone for over fifteen minutes. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I walked back inside.

I turned around to get a glimpse of his retreating form but he was already gone.

●●●

It was past midnight and I had about forty-five minutes left until my shift ended. The place was a lot emptier right now, which is pretty shocking. However, I’m guessing no one wanted to be around and get wasted when the cops were roaming about barely an hour ago.

I was pouring some shots for this couple when I felt a vibration in my pocket. I finished serving the duo before fishing my phone out, opening my messages straight away. ‘We caught the guy.’

I didn’t bother reading the name, knowing already who it was. Is it wrong of me to be a bit upset? I’m happy there’s one less criminal on the streets but I wanted to see Spencer some more.

Hmmm. There’s still a chance to make something happen, but I can’t mess it up. I quickly typed, ‘I should get a reward. I did help you catch the guy.’

I assumed that I’d have to wait a few minutes for him to respond but that was not the case. ‘And what is it that you want?’ It’s now or never.

‘You.’

I’m guessing he had his phone glued to him right now because his reply was immediate. ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with.’

‘I’m not scared Spencer.’ If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t want me. But all the heated moments we had shared thus far had to have meant something.

‘You should be, I’m not the man that you need.’ was his reply.

I decided to be a bit cheeky, remembering that it gave me some results when I was messaging him earlier today. ‘You’re a man and I am in need, that’s more than enough for me. Save the rest for the pillow talk.’

I didn’t even get to put my phone down before his next text arrived. ‘This isn’t a good idea.’

Damn, this man is a hard nut to crack, but he has made me stubborn for him. I guess I’ll have to use my ultimate weapon.

Taking note of my surroundings, I dimmed the brightness of my phone and made sure to keep it close to my body. I don’t need any of the customers or coworkers to have a sneak peek into my secret album. I opened the app that holds all of my inappropriate photos, pondering on which one I should send to Spencer.

My eyes landed on one I took pretty recently. I’m not trying to sound conceited or anything but I looked fucking hot. It was erotic and sensual, but not overly so.

I was lying on my bed, one hand holding onto my chest while the other held the phone up. My fingers were spread apart, allowing for the taunt nipple of my left breast to peek out. The dim lighting of the lamp helped accentuate the curves of my body. The picture includes the lower half of my face, where I was biting down on my lower lip. I was wearing a white lacy thong that barely left anything for the imagination.

I quickly clicked on the photo and made it so that he’ll have to download the image before seeing it. I added the caption Warning, it’s a bit NSFW, before hitting send. Crossing my fingers, I hoped for a reply soon.

I waited and waited but my phone did not notify me of any new messages. Five minutes have passed and I was shit out of luck. Welp I tried. Now I gotta pick up my pride from the floor.

Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate and I felt happiness immediately taking over. At first, I thought it was a text message, except the vibrations kept going and going. Realization hit me, it’s an incoming call. I grabbed it quickly, a small squeal leaving my mouth when I saw Spencer’s name appear. I accepted the call and put it towards my ear.

“Hello Dr. Reid, to what do I---“

“When does your shift end?” he interrupted. Well hot damn, no waiting around now huh.

“20 minutes,” came my simple reply.

“I’ll be outside,” and with that, he hung up the phone. Wow, I can’t believe that actually worked.

The next 20 minutes were by far the slowest time has ever went. I kept glancing at the clock, watching as each minute passed at a pain strikingly slow pace. Once it was 12:58 A.M, I already had my bag on my shoulder with my hand on the dividing door.

I made a quick mental check on the inventory I had in my purse. Wallet, check. Phone charger, check. Travel toothbrush, check. Bobby Pins, check. Condom, check. Deodorant, check. Extra panty, check. Yup, I’m ready. I’ve had too many spontaneous sleepovers to not be prepared for evenings like this.

I looked at the time and saw that it was finally 1:00 A.M. I zipped right out of here, making sure to shout my goodbyes as I made my way to the exit. Once out the door, I turned towards the corner and immediately spotted Spencer waiting for me.

I made my way towards him with the biggest smile on my face. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Get in,” he demanded.

“Why the haste?” I asked with a teasing tone behind my words.

“I’ve wasted enough time when it comes to you.” That’s a good enough reason for me. He got in the driver seat while I made my way to the passenger’s side, placing my bag on the floor near my feet.

“My house is a 20-minute drive,” I informed him. “You’ll just have to make a lef—“

“No,” he cut me off. “The hotel I am staying at is 10 minutes away from here.” And this is why I always pack the necessities.

“Alright, you’re in charge, Sir.”

Spencer didn’t respond to my little quip, choosing instead to turn the car on. Fine, play that game of yours. As soon as I put my seat belt on, he pulled out and started driving.

We’ve only been in the car for a couple of minutes before I got a bit antsy. I never did like quiet rides. I turned to him “What took you so long to get Mr. Creepy guy?”

His eyes fleetingly dashed towards my direction before focusing back on the road. “Who?”

“The man that you were looking for,” I clarified.

“We had to be sure it was him,” he stated.

“My description wasn’t enough for you.”

“It was helpful but we had to be certain. He eventually confessed to the crimes while under custody.”

“Oh,” I said. “Umm do you have a girlfriend?” A girl gotta make sure that she wasn’t becoming a homewrecker.

“A. What,” he asked. I’m pretty sure he heard me but I repeated myself anyway.

“A girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Somebody waiting for you at home?”

“I do not. I am not in a committed relationship.”

“That’s cool. Neither am I if you’re wondering,” I said. “So did you like my picture?” Apparently, my mouth does not know when to stop. Although I must admit, I’m curious to know what he thought of it.

We stopped at a red light and he gazed at me before saying “I was with my team when I got your little message. They were wondering why I got quiet all of a sudden.” I would have laughed if he didn’t have such a dark look on his face. “I did not appreciate their curiosity as to what was going on.” The light turned green, and he started driving faster now. Do FBI agents get speedy tickets for booty calls?

“Does that mean you did not like it?”

Spencer didn’t respond and I was about to ask him something else when I realized the car was parked. Oh we’re here, that was fast. He got out and went to open my door for me.

“Wow, what a gentleman.” Still no response from him. I picked up my bag and hopped out while he closed the door behind me. He made sure to lock it before grabbing my hand and leading me to the hotel’s entrance.

I couldn’t even appreciate the interior of the place since Spencer was dragging me to the elevators. He finally spoke after pressing the button for the doors to open. “I’m giving you one more chance to turn back.”

“And miss out on the fun, no way.”

The doors to the lift opened and we stepped inside. They didn’t even close fully before he pushed me against the wall and crashed his lips against mine. Fuck, the moan that left my body was embarrassingly loud; I am sure the receptionists heard it.

I went to put my arms around Spencer’s neck but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the wall before my fingers could even touch his shoulder.  His knee drew my legs apart, resting in between my thighs. A shudder ran through me, which caused him to tighten his hands around my wrists. I liked that he was releasing the wilder side of him; the side that he kept hidden from others.

He sucked my bottom lip between his and bit down on it. Instinctively, I opened my mouth which he took as a green light to plunge his tongue inside. It was sloppy, it was raunchy, but I loved it.

I was about to start grinding my pelvis against his knee when the elevator doors dinged open. As quickly as he came upon me, he pulled apart. Spencer grabbed my hand once again and tugged me down a hallway. After a few steps, we stopped in front of the door and he went to grab his key from his pocket.

I took the moment to admire him. He was still wearing what I assumed to be his work clothes. His hair looked even more messy than usual. I’d like to think that he was running his hands through it while debating on what to do with me. His eyes seemed darker, no longer the honey orbs I was captivated by the day prior. Nonetheless, they were still beautiful. His lips, my god those lips of his. Puffed out and more pink than normal. I just wanted to kiss him again.

Spencer opened the door to his room holding it open for me. Once we were inside, with the door fully closed this time, he pulled me into another hungry kiss. One of his hands held my face as the other landed on my waist. I dropped my purse on the floor, my hands promptly losing themselves in his hair.

My mouth immediately opened up, wanting to feel his tongue pressed alongside mine once more. He used the hand that was holding my waist to pull me closer until I was flushed against his body. I felt hot. Too hot. I wanted to rip off my clothes and his at this very moment.

Suddenly his face pulled away, much to my disappointment. We were trying to catch our breath as we looked at one another.

“I want you on your knees,” he rasped. I’d love nothing more but we wouldn’t be here if I were obedient.

“And if I say no?” I asked.

“Don’t pretend you’re some kind of bad girl because we both know that is far from the truth.”

“Your profiling skills need some work if you think I am a good girl who follows the rules.”

He tightened his grip on my waist. “I never said you were a good girl.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re a cock hungry dirty whore who is going to get on her knees or be bent over mine. Your choice.” Well, who am I to argue against such logic. Although the idea of being spanked by him is exciting, I rather see him come undone by me. And on me.

I slowly sunk down to my knees as Spencer started removing his belt and unbuttoning his slacks. I helped him drag his pants and boxers down, low enough to unveil his hard dick. My mouth salivated at the sight of him and I pressed my thighs closer together. Maybe I am a cock hungry dirty whore.

I placed one hand on him, feeling the heated skin against my cooler palm. His dick gave a slight twitch at the difference in temperatures. I closed my hand, delighted by the fact that I couldn’t fit my whole first around his cock. Leaning forward, I placed a small tentative kiss on the head. I glanced up, seeing that he had his poker face on.

Now that wouldn’t do, I want to see Spencer Reid lose control because of me.

I pulled my hand back and brought it to my face. I licked the length of my palm before placing it at the base of his cock again. My opposite hand settled on his thigh to help balance myself. I leaned forward once more and lightly licked the tip before placing it inside my mouth. I sucked gently while firmly grasping the base. He rewarded me with a small grunt.

I moved down, slowly taking him inch by inch. I made sure to get him as wet as I can while gliding my lips against him. My hand pumped the remaining length that couldn’t fit in my mouth. He started to become more and more erect.

“You like this don’t you?” Spencer groaned out, “You’re such a filthy slut for me.” How is it possible that the sound of his voice is making me aroused? He placed his hands on my hair, fisting his fingers among the locks.

I moaned at his words, bobbing my head up and down at a faster pace. I moved my hand to cup his sac, giving him a gentle massage between my fingers. He gave out a choked sound as he started to slowly thrust his hips.

I drew back and kissed my way down his cock until my lips met my hand. I placed my mouth on one of his balls and gave one a light suck before running my tongue around it. “Fucking hell,” Spencer loudly exclaimed, as I returned the same ministrations to the neglected one.

I pulled away with a small pop and dragged my tongue from base to tip. My eyes looked up at him, and the sight was sexy as fuck. His mouth was opened as he was trying to catch his breath, his face slightly flushed. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and the veins on his neck were more prominent.

I made sure Spencer’s eyes landed on mine as I wrapped my lips around his now full length. He started thrusting more earnestly this time as my hand went back to massaging his balls. I continued eye contact as I bobbed my head up and down on his cock.

He tightened his hands on my hair harshly, which made me more wet. Great, on top of being a cock whore, I am a pain whore. This man is bringing the worst out of me and I’m loving it.

I made sure to hollow my cheeks and swirl my tongue around his head every time I returned back up. I didn’t think I’d have this much fun with a cock in my mouth. Once I dipped my tongue against his slit and firmly clasped my hand over his sac, it was over for him.

Spencer took over and held my head in place as he started to thrust within me. I tried my best to maintain eye contact, despite the tears swelling up. My other hand clutched at the skin of his thigh, raking my nails over him. His groans were a sweet symphony to my ears. Just when I thought he was about to release himself, he stopped and pulled away from me.

“Why’d you stop?” I pouted, my lips feeling very sensitive as they moved against each other.

He panted heavily and loudly, “I don’t want to cum yet.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the sight of him. He was a mess and it was all because of me.

“But I wanted to taste you.” My hand went back to grab him but he stopped me with a sharp tug of my hair.

“Behave or you won’t get a reward for sucking my dick so well,” he said flatly.

Ohh, I’m curious as to what a reward from Spencer Reid entails. He pulled me up and I had to place my hands on his chest for balance. As my legs were regaining feeling, he was staring at my face. I can already imagine what he sees. Tear stained face with puffy eyes and swollen lips. Apparently, he liked the sight because he pulled me into another kiss.

This one was much more tender than our previous kisses. His lips were soft, as if afraid they would irritate my already swollen ones. His hands cradled my head, gently tilting it up so he has better access. His tongue swirled against mine and I was surprised he wasn’t repulsed by his taste on me. So many guys would find this to be disturbing.

Spencer slowly pulled away from me. He looked into my eyes as he said, “I want you to strip then bend over the bed.”

“What if I don’t?” His once gentle hands on my face are now gripping my cheeks, making my lips pucker. He continued to stare at me and it took everything within me not to moan at his actions.

“I think you know what would happen if you don’t, do you really want that?” As much as I would have loved to mess with him some more, I did not want it at the expense of my orgasm. I’m too horny to be acting recklessly. 

I started stepping away from him, doing as he requested. I would have taken my time removing my clothes, but I was too impatient. As I pulled down my panties, I noticed how damp they were. This man has made me wanton and soaked without even touching me yet.

I went over to the bed, placing myself in the desired position. The bed was tall enough where my feet were still firmly on the floor but I didn’t need to bend my knees to keep my stomach flat against the mattress. 

I watched Spencer strip out of his clothes, making note of the mismatched socks he had on. Aww cute. Once he was bare, he walked up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. For a few seconds, he did nothing while I was readily anticipating his next move.

Finally, I felt his hand cup my mound and I gasped at the feeling. “You’re so wet. All of this because you had my cock in that dirty mouth of yours.” I shuddered at his words, the hairs on my arm rising up.

He started rubbing at my lower lips, spreading the arousal that has already formed all over me. “You have nothing to say now that I got my hands on you huh,” he continued, stroking his fingers against my core.

Just when I was about to say something, he sunk a single finger inside me. I inhaled sharply and buried my head into the sheets. I tried my best to move against him but the hand resting on my hip kept me at bay. He was methodical with his actions, pressing his finger against my walls as he moved in and out.

“Your pretty little cunt is taking my finger so well. You think you can handle another one?” I still couldn’t reply to him, too busy trying to even out my breathing. He then entered another finger. I moaned as he started diligently working those dexterous digits inside of me. My pussy was throbbing while he was working wonders.

A loud moan was torn out my body as Spencer’s fingers curled against my G-spot. “Oh you liked that, dirty girl,” he growled out. He curled his fingers once again and I let out an equally loud whine. He continued this every time he returned his fingers back inside of me; my throat releasing a moan whenever he did so. You’d think with all the time I spent staring at his hands that I’d be ready for him but that’s a big no.

My body was warming up and I could feel the heat pooling within me. I was a goner when a third finger entered me. He tightened his hand on my hip and I prayed that it would leave marks. I wanted to admire the bruises when this was all over.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the pleasure racking my body. I was so close to finding my release. The way I was pulsating around his fingers was a telltale sign that I was upon my release.

“You want to come, dirty girl, you want to come all over my hand?” he fiercely whispered. All I could do was nod against the comforters, my voice long gone by now.

I felt myself pulse and tighten around him. With just one more curl of his fingers, I was about to climax. But he suddenly pulled out and released me.

“What the fuck?” I screeched, voice coming back with a vengeance. “You said I was going to get rewarded you teasing bastard.”

“And you are. Now shut up before I change my mind.” For once, I stayed quiet, only because I really wanted an orgasm. It is the least he could do after making me all hot and bothered.

I turned my head back, wanting to see what Spencer would do next. I whimpered when I saw him put his fingers in his mouth, licking my essence off of him. I watched as he took his time, my pussy continuing to throb at the sight.

“You taste pretty good for such a whore,” he remarked once he was done. I saw him walk towards the nightstand and grab a foil packet. Excitement coursed through my veins, my body barely staying still.

He was behind me once again, and I was ready for him. I felt him rub the head against my lips, pressing down when it met my clit. He continued doing this, moving up and down against me, making sure to coat himself in my arousal. I started to wiggle my hips against him, hoping to gain some more friction.

A loud moan was torn out of my throat when Spencer suddenly grabbed my hips and buried himself inside my pussy. He let out a groan as he stilled within me. We had a moment to adjust to one another before he started rocking against me. He was hitting me deep, touching places that I didn't know were possible.  

“Spencer, you feel so fucking good,” I mewled out, enjoying the feel of his cock against my walls.

He kept a steady rhythm, making sure to pull halfway out before pushing back in. Small moans left my mouth as I tried my best to return his thrusts. His hands on my hips did not allow for much movement, reminding me that he was the one in charge of my pleasure.

My body moved rhythmically against the bed, my sensitive nipples rubbing against the sheet, adding to this blissful feeling. I was burning up from the sensations wrecking my body.

“I want you to touch yourself,” Spencer growled out. I let my hand trailed down my stomach but paused when they got to my lower abdomen. I felt a bump form at my lower abdomen every time he entered me, which only added to my desire. I tightened around him and he let out a groan before giving me a powerful thrust as a warning.

My hand continued its descent to my clit, fingers rubbing against it once they met. Spencer increased the pace, slamming his hips against my ass. My legs started to tremble, my orgasm looming over my body. My hand continued to play with my clit while the other gripped the sheets tightly. I bit down on the comforter, trying my best to quiet down my moans.

One of Spencer’s hands grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. “None of that, I want to hear you. I want everyone in this hotel to know what a filthy little bitch you are. My filthy little whore,” he grunted out.

It was all too much for me. His voice, his cock, his hands. I felt wave after wave of pleasure as my release washed over me. I cried out his name; submitting to the ecstasy my body was experiencing. My muscles went limp as I attempted to return air into my lungs.

I heard Spencer grunt as my pussy pulsed and creamed around him but that did not stop his relentless pace. “Keep touching the clit of yours, I want you to come one more time.”

“I can’t,” I whimpered. I was still recovering from the powerful orgasm I just had. I won’t be able to have another one so soon.

But Spencer Reid was nothing if not diligent. “You can and you will.”

His hand that was in my hair joined mine between my legs. His fingers were so much better than mine. He pressed firmly against my clit, keeping a steady motion against me. He snapped his hips harder, the slight pain making me feel that familiar coil in my stomach.

“I know you have one more in you for me. I want you to give it to me” he uttered. I’m not sure how he is able to do it, but I felt my body start rising again.

“Sp-Spencer. Please.” I didn’t know what I was begging for as I stammered those words out. His hand between my legs pressed harder and his rhythm against me started wavering. I knew he was close to his release, but I was right there with him.

When he pinched my clit firmly against his fingers, I mewled out his name once more. The coil snapped and I couldn’t help the way I trembled once more. My body quaked against his as the shock waves overcame me. I felt as if lightning was running across my nerves.

Spencer thrusted three more times before tensing against me. I felt him jerk and spill himself inside of me. He dropped down, pressing his chest against my back and whispering my name in my ear. We both tried to catch our breaths as we came down from our high.  

After a few minutes, Spencer pulled out of me and walked to a door which I assumed led to the bathroom. I’m guessing he went to dispose of the condom. I continued to lie on the bed, trying my best to catch my breath. My body was still on an all-time high, still reeling from the aftershocks of my climax. I fought against the drowsiness of my eyes, wondering how the hell I am going to stay alert on the cab ride home.

“How are you feeling?” I couldn’t even jump in surprise. I had no idea he returned and was standing right next to me. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“Best. Sex. Ever,” I drowsily responded. Spencer picked me up and maneuvered my body so that I was lying on my back. He grabbed a bottle that was standing on the nightstand; squeezing some cream into the palm of his hand. He rubbed his hands together and started massaging the lotion onto my legs. He focused his attention on my knees and thighs.

“Do you want some water? He asked. I nodded my head and he immediately went to the snack bar area. He grabbed a bottle and what looks to be a granola bar. He uncapped the bottle and gently fed the water to me.

“Do you want some food,” I shook my head at his question. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Cuddles” came my whispered response. Spencer smiled at me before settling on the bed next to me. He draped the blankets over our bodies and wrapped his hand over my waist, pulling me close.

“Goodnight Spencer.”

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

The last thing I felt was the press of his lips against my neck as my body surrendered itself to the sweet bliss of slumber. 

[literaticat]

Question related to a recent question you answered. What is "work for hire" and how does an author get involved with that line of work? Thanks!

Work-for-Hire (WFH) is a kind of catch-all umbrella term that means writing something that isn’t your original idea. Kinds of WFH may include:

* A licensed brand that somebody else owns, such as a Superhero or TV Character - - if a company owns a character, you can’t just write a book in that character’s world randomly, they have to hire you to do it and everything about the story has to be approved. There may or may not be royalties - but the author won’t own the sub rights etc. It is likely you get chosen for the high profile kind of job (like a Wonder Woman YA novel) because you already are either famous or have at least a bit of a name for yourself, and your agent either pitches you for it, or they approach your agent. Alternatively, if it is less high-profile (more like a Dora the Explorer floppy 8x8 pb that doesn’t even have an author’s name on it, for example) -- you probably work for the publisher.

* Publisher-generated IP (intellectual property): A story that the publisher makes up, and hires authors for. They usually give the author AT LEAST the bones of an idea, perhaps even a detailed outline, though the author is encouraged to “make it their own”. There is often an advance and royalty, though the contract is different than a regular contract and the author won’t own the subrights etc. Usually the publisher approaches agents and asks if they have authors who want to “audition” for such projects -- sometimes the publisher has specific authors in mind.

* Packager-generated IP: There are companies called “packagers” (Alloy, Cake, Working Partners) that do very intricate outlines and a lot of shaping of books with authors, and then they sell the “package” to publishers and share the profits in some way with the authors. I’m honestly not sure how one begins working with packagers usually -- in my experience, Packagers have come to ME looking for authors to audition (like the category above) -- but also I know that packagers work with unagented authors sometimes, too - not really sure how that works.

* Textbooks or other educational kinds of books, tests, etc -- they pay an author a flat fee, no royalties, to write on such-and-such topic. Like, you know, somebody has to write all that stuff!  Not sure, this is not really something an agent deals with - I think you probably look up the publishers and inquire, and I bet once you have an “in” with such a publisher, they continually draw from the same well of writers -- however, I’m just guessing, that would be a better q for an author who does this kind of work!

[astermacguffin]

I've promised a post about dual violations here before (in line with my evil deancas scholarship), so here's the official post about it.

(NOTE: I'm intentionally using the vague and general term "violation" here as a euphemism for physical, psychological, emotional, and sexual violence. At no point am I ever gonna explicitly describe such violence, but I am going to constantly allude, mention, and refer to such acts. Please feel free to scroll away if necessary.)

Thesis on Dual Violations. Fiction provides a great avenue for us to explore dynamics in special cases where both receiver and perpetrator of the violation are victims. This is not to say that they are similarly or equally victimized, only that they are both victims.

There are typically three ways for this to happen:

coercion, where the main driving agent of the violation is an external force, forcing itself onto at least one of the parties (e.g. posession, blackmail, etc.);

compulsion, where the main driving agent of the violation is internal, even if what started the causal chain was initially external (e.g. rage spells, sex pollen, etc.) and;

imitation, where one party is mimicked and the violation is done through that image. This is a very specific kind of violation—the main thing that comes to mind are fics where a shapeshifter imitates the victim’s loved one and performs the violation in that body.

The violations done to the primary victims are, of course, very obvious. But what I think we rarely engage with is the violation and trauma of the unwilling perpetrator. When the possession is over or when the spell finally lifts, what happens then? How do you deal with the consequences of having committed such an awful violation (or in the special case of imitation, having your image permanently tarnished in the eyes of the victim)?

Therefore, explorations on dual violations function as thought experiments on guilt. Note how in our categorization, all the names are in the point of view of the perpetrator-victim: you are either coerced to commit the crime, compelled into doing it, or imitated as doing it.

Below the cut, we're going to explore specific tropes in fics and how they fall into these categories.

COERCION

Coercion, where the main driving agent of the violation is an external force, forcing itself onto at least one of the parties.

We can generally categorize fics of this kind into two types:

Takeover. The Self/ego/personhood of the active party is taken over (e.g. one is possessed/mind-controlled and is forced to violate the other), and;

Gunpoint. The selfhood of the active party is intact (e.g. the active party is blackmailed/held-at-gunpoint to either (a) do the violation or (b) let themselves be violated).

Out of all the categories we will discuss here, perpetrators of violence under takeover coercion are typically those we deem blameless; there is usually nothing they could have done to stop the violation from happening.

In gunpoint coercion, on the other hand, although they are forced into restricting circumstances, the active party is doing it "with their own hands" and is not being actively controlled into doing so. They have at least a sliver of agency and control of the situation, unlike in cases of possession/mind-control. This means that we typically assign them with at least some degree of moral responsibility over the violation.

Note how we further subdivided gunpoint coercion. In fact, both coercion and compulsion violations can be divided into this binary: (a) being forced to do the violation, or (b) being forced to have the violation done to you.

To make sense of this, we're going to look at an example of Type B Gunpoint Violation. First things first, it's important to consider that the recepient of the violation can in fact also be the active party behind the violation. Let's see how this works through this example:

Person X is blackmailing Person Y into having sex with Person Z and making them believe it's consensual.

The thesis on dual violations argues that both Y and Z are victims here, with Y being forced to endure rape and Z being tricked into raping someone.

COMPULSION

Compulsion, where the main driving agent of the violation is internal (even if what started the causal chain was initially external).

We can generally split this type into two:

Corruption of the Mind. This is where something drastically alters the self/persona/mentality of a party (e.g. a personality-altering spell, a memory corruption spell, etc.);

Corruption of the Heart. This is where either foreign wants/desires are forced into a party or preexisting desires are warped and exploited (e.g. love potions, certain sex pollen or heat/rut fics, etc.)

Compulsion violations can often be more revolting than coercion violations, especially since we can often blame a third party for the latter. A lot of the time, perpetrators under compulsion are still themself, only warped.

In Supernatural fics, the violations done by Demon!Dean and MarkOfCain!Dean would typically fall under compulsion, because (1) no one is possessing him or forcing him to do these things, and (2) Dean is basically still Dean under these conditions, except his values and priorities are distorted.

Like earlier, compulsion violations can happen in two ways: being compelled to do the violation, or (b) being compelled to have the violation done to you.

IMITATION

Imitation, where one party is mimicked and the violation is done through that image.

This is a very specific kind of violation—the main thing that comes to mind are fics where a shapeshifter imitates the victim’s loved one and performs the violation in that body. Or perhaps by possessing a corpse; the mechanics doesn’t really matter. The point is that both parties here are violated and their relationship is horribly damaged due to this violation.

Imitation is a special case; some of you might wonder as to why it needs to have its separate category. This is because it doesn't neatly fit into any of our earlier categories. The main thing that sets it different from the rest is the fact that the "perpetrator" here doesn't actually perform the violation themself but is only mimicked by the one who actually does the violation.

We have been using the term perpetrator-victim to describe the perpetrators in dual violations; in the case of imitation, the -victim half of the term gains more weight—their image has been violated and their relationship with the primary victim has been terribly damaged.

Concluding remarks

The essay provides us with a powerful categorization system that can help us analyze fiction about special cases of dual violations. I do not claim it to be comprehensive; in fact, I might have missed other examples of dual violations that don't fit this current system. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to share!

(If anyone is interested in the list of destiel darkfics that prompted this analysis, DM me so I can warn you about stuff before reading.)

[satanfemme]

pre-made killjoy name generators r good and fun but personally I think the best way to come up with killjoy names isn’t to (completely) rely on any kind of fill-in-the blank with generic words. so if you’re struggling with coming up with names, here’s some things I do/keep in mind when coming up with good killjoy names quickly:

(though ofc these r just what work for me personally, I’m not saying there’s a right/wrong way to writing killjoy names!)

(under a cut cause it’s long and just a whole lotta nothing for my followers who aren’t writing killjoys lol)

there’s 3 main “categories” of killjoy names in canon:

first name, last name (ex: party poison; jet star; val velocity)

three names / a title + two names (ex: dj hot chimp; dr. death defying; agent cherri cola)

single name (ex: vaya; volume; newsagogo)

note that when there’s more than one name these are sometimes (+ more often than irl) alliterative, reminiscent of early comic book superhero names (ex: lois lane, bruce banner, ect)

names can be made up of real words (ex: fun ghoul), real* names (ex: tommy (chow mein) ), or they can be newly invented from existing words/phrases (ex: neonfuck). and, obviously, a name could be any combination of those, as is the case for tommy

*your “real names” don’t actually have to actually exist irl! korse has a “real” name from the city, but “korse” still isn’t actually a name. coming up with words that sound like they could be names (especially in a sci-fi future setting) but don’t really mean anything at all irl, would also work for this!

sometime, killjoy names are preluded with “the”, most obvious examples of this are “the kobra kid” or “the girl”.

-

All of that established, where I usually start with a new name, if I have nothing to base it off of already, is fantasynamegenerators.com and randomwordgenerator.com. the former has a wide variety of real and fantasy names (including categories from pop culture) so there’s a lot of choices depending on what specific style you’re looking for, and the latter lets you generate words by syllable count, first letter, or what part of speech it is. I also use thesaurus.com too if there’s a specific meaning I want, and when trying to find a real name that starts with a specific letter I usually google “names that start with...” (sorry I don’t have a website for that lol).

however I don’t one-and-done the generators. I generate words/names to establish a starting point but then build from there.

for example, if I’m looking for a killjoy with three names, I might start with fantasy name generators and use a few of the generators until I get a single name I like. then I might switch to the random word generator and find a noun and an adjective, one of which alliterates with the real name I already decided upon. then after that I’ll still fine tune the name as a whole if the rhythm** is off or if I don’t like how one of the words fits when it’s all put together.

actually doing the above for a minute or two, the names I first generated were robin rotten and tongue, but by keeping the parts of it that I liked and trashing the parts I didn’t, I adjusted it to be “Ruby Rotten Throat”. if I were actually using that name in a story I might further edit it as I want, for example hyphenating the last two names or shortening it to “the rotten throat” depending on what characterization I were giving this character themself (are they genuinely intimidating as a person? or just picking out a name that “sounds cool”?)

** wrt rhythm, tbh I’m not smart enough to offer concrete advice other than “say it out loud and make sure it ‘sounds right’”, but finding a catchy rhythm is pretty important. in canon, killjoy names can be any combination of syllables (ex: 2+1+3; 1+4; or ofc just 1) and with the longer names I wouldn’t even say they have to alternate between stressed and unstressed syllables necessarily (though cherri and dr. d’s names definitively do, so if you’re struggling with rhythm that’s an easy way to make something sound better!), literally just edit it until is sounds good and is easy to say.

-

as with all writing, you want to think about what the name actually says about the character and their characterization. but unlike most writing, most killjoys picked out their own names. this is something to keep in mind, asking yourself what words/names they themselves would be inspired by (killjoys they idolize? things found in nature? sci-fi tech?), what kind of name they themselves would like (fancy names? snappy names?), and what kinds of words/names would be realistic for the character to know or not. (a killjoy in the zones probably wouldn’t be able to name themselves “new york”... unless they collect books and discovered the name in one of those!)

most killjoys are very young. 40 is seen as very old and most of the canonical joys we see are teens/young adults regardless of timeline or interpretation. this doesn’t necessarily have to influence the names you choose for them, but it can.

specifically, don’t worry about a name being too “cringey” or anything like that. if someone had the freedom to name themselves literally anything at 14 years old, it’d make sense for the name to be kinda dumb (and it’d make sense for them to still keep it years later, considering they live in a society where names like that are the norm)

in fact, if you’re struggling, I suggest trying to get into the mindset of ur character given the freedom to name themselves anything with no limits, at whatever age they’d have been when naming themselves!

ok yeah that’s about everything I can think of off the top of my head, I just know killjoy names r hard for a lot of people to come up with, but I find them easy when I follow the above advice, so! hopefully some of that can help some of u too? love and light

[g0ldengubler]

chapter 7~instant crush

A/N: aaaaaa this chapter is so/so???? i guess it gets better at the end??? idk, i’m starting to get back into that “i’m not a good writer” mindset that i was in at the beginning of nauseous. i’m hoping to start writing another chapter super soon! i’m just stuck in rut and it’s showing in the chapters. i’ll work harder to make them better, but no promises. also listen to the song that the chapter was named after here. it’s literally one of my all time favorite songs on the planet lol. ok, i apologize in advance but i hope u still enjoy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed, mentions of toys and smoking tools and pieces

Word Count: 2680

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like days, you and Spencer had finally made it to your father's cabin. You hadn't been up north in years, all because you were so focused on getting your dream job. Driving down a dirt road, the smell of the trees mixed with rain had you feeling nostalgic, triggering memories of when you were a little girl, reading Charles Dickens under a tree or on the rocky shores of the lake. You couldn't wait to share these new memories here with him.

When you arrived in Michigan, you made sure you got all of your favorite goodies like Better Maid potato chips, Faygo's Rock'n'Rye, Vernors ginger ale, Superman ice cream, and you even made Spencer stop at your favorite pizza place, Buddy's, so you could get your favorite salad and a cheese pizza with light sauce and a crispy crust. He chuckled at how plain you like your pizza, but it was something you and your grandmother shared a loved for. You wanted Spencer to have as close to the Michigan experience he could because while you weren't in love with your home state, the small things you grew up with gave you joy.

The last errand you made before moving up north was to a dispo in Ann Arbor. Spencer couldn't go in with you, so you left him in the car (even though you wanted him to come in with you, he didn't have his card so it wouldn't work). Walking in, you showed the security guard your med card and continued your way through the store. Jars of bud covered the shelves on the wall. Glass showcases were filled with wax. Each strain (no matter what form) had labels in front of them, giving information about it and what it could do to help with any specific problem like joint pains or body spasms. You never really had a preference on what strain was best, nor got too picky if it was an indica, sativa, or hybrid.

You talked with a staff member and asked what they suggested. You ended up getting some Cherry Pie flower, joint papers, hemp blunt wraps, and a mini bbq lighter. Once you grabbed the goods, you headed out to suddenly notice a store that was at the outdoor mall next door. A smile grew on your face as you ran back to the car, set your bag down behind your seat, and grabbing Spencer by his hand and pulled him with you to the mall.

"Silly girl, I thought we were done with the errands?" He asked.

"One more stop," you said eagerly, "I promise. Plus, I think you'll get a little kick out of it."

A small building appeared as you made him stop in front of it. You saw him look up at the sign, looking a little confused. "There's a store with the same name as me?"

"Wait till you get inside." You giggled.

Those who weren't familiar with the store would think it was an edgier Hot Topic, but once you showed him what was in the back of Spencer's, you saw his jaw drop and couldn't hold in the laugh that was brewing in your throat. "Told you you'd get a little kick out of it."

"Well I thought you meant because of the fact it's called Spencer's, not because of all the...toys...they have."

"Are you getting ideas, Doctor?"

He straightened himself out and fixed his sweater. "I cannot confirm, nor deny your question."

"Dr.Spencer Reid," you giggled, slapping his arm softly, "naughty boy."

"Are you getting idea's, Agent L/N?"

You were quiet for a moment. "...maybe." you mumbled.

Spencer just laughs at the little banter you just had. "Let's save it for when we're home. It'll give me time to really think about it."

As you're left there speechless, your clouded mind is interrupted by the look on his face as he looks at the dick shaped candy they had.

"Ok, ok," you giggled, "let me go find what I'm looking for and then my errands are done. I'm ready to just sit back on the couch, put a fire on, and relax."

From there you went to the middle of the store, where you grabbed a green rolling tray with a panda on his back smoking a joint, a hot pink grinder, and a game controller ashtray before going up to the cashier to pay. You then headed back to the car and headed off to the cabin.

The cabin hadn't changed a bit, with its Christmas lights still hung and the skeleton that was sitting on the porch chair. You thought maybe your dad did all this while you two were on your way, but whatever the reason, you could tell that Spencer was already in love with it once he saw the skeleton. You forgot how big the cabin was. It wasn't small like a fairy's cottage, but you could say it was smaller than Rossi's mansion.

The smell of pine needles and fire smoke filled your head with nostalgia as you entered. You dropped your bags and plopped on the couch. You felt at home, and with Spencer, the feeling was stronger than you could've ever felt. You let out a big sigh, smiling as you hold one of the couch pillows to your chest.

"If your father built this cabin, he's the genius not me." Spencer joked as he moved your legs over so he could sit down next to you. He let your legs rest on his lap, rubbing your legs awkwardly, giving you that awkward white guy smile.

"How about you put the bags in the bedroom and then we'll go exploring," you said as you adjusted your position, using the armrest as support, "I haven't been here in years and I'm feeling very nostalgic."

"Sounds like a plan!...um..." Spencer looks around the living room, trying to find the bedroom.

"Oh, sorry! It's straight down that hall on your left." You pointed over to the hallway next to him. Once he saw the open doors to the bedroom he grabbed your bags and sat them down. You got up as he walked to the room and started exploring. You started in the kitchen, looking back on the times you'd bake the most gooey chocolate chip cookies as your dad cooked the family stew. Your father always had a hobby for making food, didn't matter if it was a meaty dish or a beautiful dessert. You thought nothing could beat your father's cooking, and that became especially true when you went to college.

As you were walking to the hall, you noticed Spencer admire the artwork that was hanging on the walls. "Did you know that the first log cabins that were built in America were emigrants from Sweden and Finland?" He asked. "They had been building them for 1,000 years, prior to coming here."

"That's very interesting," you said loudly as I walked to my old room, "I didn't know that." Something you always loved was to listen to people talk. Spencer was known for rambling about something when he should've been keeping it case related. He'd start off with giving them what they wanted to know, but then get so excited that he kept going on. It was something you did, too, but only around those you were comfortable around and that was very rare.

As he continued to ramble facts about the paintings, you looked around the familiar room that felt a bit distant. Your dad had turned your old room into an office. All the bright lilac walls had turned to gray, and your bed with a matching white desk were replaced with a black leather couch and a black, very sophisticated desk. Pictures of the two of you mixed with Red Wing merchandise hung on the walls and sat at his desk.

"Uuuuhh, Y/N?" Spencer called, "you might want to see this!

With a confused look on your face, you walked out of the office and back out to the living room where you see him hold a ziplock bag. Inside was a small stash of something similar that you bought that day.

"Where did you find all that weed?" you asked.

"I was looking at the books on this bookcase and as I took one out to explore further, this fell out with it."

You start exploring on your own. It had to be here. It'd make complete sense.

"What are you looking for?"

You ignore him for a moment before finding it. That son of a bitch.

You show Spencer the glass piece you found, the light in the room making its blue accent glow.

"Is that a erlenmeyer flask?" He asked, looking puzzled.

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "You're cute," you said, "but no, it's a bong! My dad's a sneaker bastard. I never knew he smoked-" you stopped in your tracks for a moment, thinking. "...I don't know how I feel about that information."

Spencer chuckles as you go through your mini life crisis. You notice his eyes then move in different directions. It took you a minute to realize what he was looking at. He would look at you, then look at the bong, then at the bag of weed, and continue the cycle. A grin fell upon your face, making Spencer grin a evil, yet goofy smile.

"Let's get comfortable first," you propose, "I'll heat up our pizza's and grab the salads, you grab the rock'n'rye and then we'll get to smokiiin."

Without a second thought, the two of you rushed to get into pajamas. You both had decided that Christmas pajamas was the way to go with how cold it was going to be. Coming out of the bedroom as Spencer came out of the bathroom, you both laugh at the fact that you pretty much had the same theme going. While Spencer was wearing a red long sleeve with the vintage coke'a'cola Santa Clause, you wore a white fitted shirt with the coke's'cola polar bears on it. Your pants were pretty much the same red and black checkered flannels, but while Spencer wore just regular slippers, you had on Rudolph the red nose reindeer fuzzy socks.

After heating up the pizza and pouring the drinks, your grab your food and went for the couch. You sat it on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing the bong, along with the bag and your grinder. As you began to grind the flower, you looked over to Spencer, who seemed to be really loving the pop through the nervousness on his face.

"Are you sure you want to try smoking out of a bong, Spence?" you asked, "Because you don't have to if you're too nervous."

"No no, I do want to! I'm just getting excited that's all."

"You're ok with your mouth being on the same place mine has?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No spit will be on this," you explain, taking the look on his face as a maybe, "but we have our napkins if you want to wipe."

"Ok, good!" He sighed out of relief.

Once the bud was grounded, you took some out with your fingers and packed it in the bowl, rubbing your fingers together to get some of the sticky stuff off. You then put on some music from you groovy playlist on your phone, connecting it to the bluetooth speakers that surrounded the room.

As you put your mouth on the top, lighting the bowl, you move the flame over half of it, letting Spencer have the other half. You felt eyes burning on you as you took the bowl out and inhaled. You held the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before a cloud formed in front of your face.

You handed the bong and lighter to Spencer, showing him what to do. You reminded him to inhale as he held the flame to the bowl. You watch as he did exactly what you did, copying your movements from memory. When he exhaled, the cloud of smoke was a bit bigger than yours was, you were shocked that he didn't have a coughing fit afterward.

He sat it down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, letting the sensations take over his body. You grabbed the bong again and took another hit, handing it to Spencer afterward. He surprisingly took it from your hands and took another rip. You ended up doing this a few more times until your grinder was empty. You took the last bong rip, setting it back down and slouched on the couch.

By this time, the munchies had kicked in. You both devoured your dinner in a matter of minutes. But the tingles slowly left your body once you finished, so you grabbed the bong and your grinder again. This time, you took the bottom part off, looking at the leftover bits of the bud that turned into almost a powder form. You then grabbed your bag from the dispo that was sitting on the table next to you, and grabbed the flower you had bought. You took the cherry pie bud out of its container and ground it up.

You looked over to Spencer, who was just feeling the music. He looked very much relaxed, staring at the ceiling fan that hung above them.

After taking a huge rip from the bong, you coughed out a bit as you sat it back down. Without even realizing, you sneaked your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest. He put his arms around you, letting you snuggle into him.

With the light of the moon now being your only source of light, and the song Instant Crush playing in the background, you felt safe in his arms. Nothing could've ruined this moment. All you wanted was him and him alone.

"You're like a beautiful dragon, Y/N." You heard Spencer say.

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. "What do you mean by that?"

"When you exhaled. When I exhaled, even. We were like dragons blowing fire. It was so cool."

He was definitely gone, it was pretty obvious. But hearing him babble on and on about being dragons made you smile and giggle. It was contagious, making Spencer giggle with you, and then you couldn't stop. Your stomach and cheeks were hurting at this point.

Once the giggling calmed down, you looked up at him, as he looked down at you. Without a thought in mind, you both leaned and kissed. Your lips hovered over the other for a moment, before leaning back in, your lips melting together as your tongues attacked the other. His right hand in your hair, and his left cupping the side of your face.

After a minute, Spencer broke away and spoke. "I don't care what we are right now," he said, "we can talk about that another time. Right now, I just want you."

You smiled and went back in. He smiled through the kiss, letting tongue go back to where it belonged.

And there you stayed, kissing here and there, taking a few more hits before you both passed out on the couch, your arms still around the other.

[k1nky-fool]

Between Regulations and Protocols

Part 1/?

Pairing: Thrawn x OC

m/f pairing

Rating: Teen

Warnings: bit of angst, introductions to characters and story.

Taglist: none yet. If you want to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to DM me or comment on this chapter.

It wasn’t as though she could have prevented this disaster. However, there were certainly moments which, in hindsight, could have been changed just by thinking through a decision with a wiser mind. By now, it was much too late, and the mess left in front of Ceka was as regrettable as it was dangerous.

For her at least, this was dangerous. She hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. As far as she was concerned one or two of the indulgences she allowed herself were fine. It was when these “indulgences” became so regular they might as well be the rule, that it began to be a problem.

Every time Ceka gave herself that allowance, every rule in the book ran through her head, making sure that none were being broken. As far as the book was concerned, crushing this hard on a superior was not forbidden so long as it was not acted upon and the individual in question’s work is not compromised.

There were rules for relationships. Probably because Ceka’s current predicament was not uncommon. Especially when one was serving under an officer as respectful and intelligent as Grand Admiral Thrawn. Feelings happened, and rules were in place. And while rules were not broken, Ceka could snake her way around them without even so much as bending them.

It was necessary with her situation. Long before she was ever harboring feelings for the Grand Admiral, Ceka had to claw her way to the top as a Togruta in a system that was clearly designed to cut those like her down.

Perhaps that was what drew her to Grand Admiral Thrawn in the first place. As shallow and rude as it sounded, him being a non-human, thriving in such a rigged system was astounding to Ceka. She knew first-hand what it takes just to get out of the academy in one piece. It took bone, blood, and tears just to get to her current position. It was probably another level of hell in reality to get to a position where people took orders from him instead of having to fight for enough recognition to be respected as a living being.

Of course the first thing she did when assigned as an ISB consultant on The Chimera was to do her research on her superior. Even if he wasn’t such a sight for sore eyes, she would have looked into him, just to get a map of the territory she was treading on. Ceka had served under her fair share of slimy bastards and downright war criminals.

Much to her surprise, he was almost spotless. A court marshall, but it wasn’t a severe offense, at least not to her. Above all else, nobody had anything very malicious to say about working under him. There were plenty of people who were conflicted, taking orders from a non-human. However, the vast majority of people, even Stormtroopers, had relatively nice things to say about working under him.

What they did say was that Grand Admiral Thrawn was a rather imposing presence. He ran a seamless ship, left little room for error so long as the crew did their work. It was said he was a ruthless strategist, which didn’t surprise Ceka in the slightest considering what she had read of him. He was intimidating, but very few had any elaboration on that comment. She didn’t see for herself until she was called into his office the next day. Ceka hadn’t the slightest idea of what he wanted.

Entering his office was damn near surreal. Ceka hadn’t met anyone in Imperial High Command that held such a collection of art. And especially not such a diverse lineup either. Everything from a Mirialan statuette of a goddess she couldn’t name, to a segment of a durasteel wall covered corner-to-corner in generations of graffiti, to a Clone’s painted helmet from the war it was so known for. The Grand Admiral, himself, was nowhere to be found.

Right away, this struck Ceka as odd. The art was the lesser of two analyses in her mind. She had been called over her wrist comm to meet Grand Admiral Thrawn in his office, where he is not currently present. If it were a prank from a superior officer for some hazing she was too familiar with, then it would have been a better move to call her here while the admiral was present. If it was indeed the admiral that sent for her, then there was a reason for this.

In interrogation, making the suspect wait was a tactic to put them on edge. And if that was the admiral’s goal, then it was working. But it wouldn’t do well to leave an unknown individual in your office, especially since she knew it was more than likely that he knew she was looking him up as soon as she got here. Letting her in here without supervision was a foolish move.

Unless of course, she wasn’t unsupervised.

Keeping her wits about her, Ceka began walking around the office, carefully observing everything in the room. To anyone watching, it would look more like she was admiring all the art on display, when in reality, she was scanning over every surface in search of anything that might be a recording device. If it’s sending a live feed, then it’ll be in something that can easily conceal wires or large enough and shaped well enough to hide an antenna to transmit the data to a screen somewhere.

She mentally cleared a random painting, and the durasteel graffiti wall. A few of the sculptures could barely fit enough material in them to remain standing, so those were cleared too. The Mirialan statuette was too small to hide anything. And it would be easy to see the mechanisms of a recording device inside.

More suddenly than Ceka would have liked, she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to the clone helmet. She felt stupid as soon as she noticed it; this particular helmet was outfitted with a recorder by its visor. They were used to record and review battlefield footage in the Clone War. The antenna on the helmet and the device itself fit the categories to send live feed to a holoscreen somewhere. “Very subtle, Grand Admiral. I wish I had noticed sooner, but if you were looking to challenge me, you certainly did a good job.”

A door on the side of the office hissed open, revealing the man that set up this whole charade. “Not one new crew member has deduced the design of the test until now. Most giving in to impatience long before they attempt to find reason.”

“You do this with every new crew member?” She asked.

“Everyone assigned to The Chimera ranked Lieutenant or higher.” He said. “However, as mentioned, you are the first to realize you were being observed. Let alone to find the device I was watching from.”

Ceka wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. She was half certain he was complimenting her, but there was also a chance he was just thinking out loud about what he had observed. “Seeing as I am an ISB agent, and in charge of interrogation, I would hope I know my way around observation tactics.”

“You have found a place where your talents are put to good use.” He said, “However, I do find myself rather curious about you.”

Ceka moved to the space in front of his desk as he moved behind it to take something out of one of the drawers. "I'm more than happy to answer any questions you have." She said.

"I will keep that in mind." He noted, pulling something up in the holoprojector. It was just about every file The Empire kept on her. Every mission, every report, every personal file, and even her academy registration. "Much like yourself, I did my research when you were assigned to The Chimera. I must say, your talents are exemplary, yet based on the impression you made when faced with my test, your files do not add up."

Clearly the lack of reaction from her made him all the more interested. In truth, she expected he might say that. "What specifically do you want to know?"

"Agent Lo, I am no stranger to the ruthless ends humans will go to in order to assure they are not upstaged by someone they deem less than themselves." He cut in. "Yet you have managed to reach your current rank without any recorded incident. Not even so much as uniform code violation marres your record."

"I consider myself an upstanding agent." She said, as though to tell him respectfully to get to the point.

"Then tell me, Agent, why is it you actively dull any record of your success?"

"Sir?"

"I understand the need to blend in with your peers." He continued, "However every record that mentions an accomplishment of yours has been buried in unnecessary details; even your own reports follow this pattern."

Ceka could feel her throat tighten and her face heat as Thrawn observed her carefully as though he could see through her skin. He was indeed as intimidating as everyone had said. She had said she was willing to answer whatever questions he had, and now she wished she hadn't said that.

She forced herself to relax. "You said it yourself. I need to blend in with my peers. And you know better than anyone else what they're willing to do to cut me down should I rise above them." Ceka explained. "It's a method of survival, that is all. Remaining at the average minimizes the harassment I receive."

Thrawn considered her words. "Why minimize it?" He asked. "It would be far easier to simply retire from military service."

A small smile graced her face. There was so much more to her than just self preservation. "Because retiring is not my goal, sir."

"What is your goal, agent?"

There was the right question. "To make my home planet whole again." She answered without hesitation. "The Galactic Empire has redistributed the population of Shili to only major cities and tribes they had the ability to commit troops to. My tribe was among the many to be forced off their ancestral territory. My goal is to climb ISB ranks until I can bring to light that it is more dangerous to The Empire to force Togrutas off their homeland than to commit minimal troops to the smaller tribes."

"A noble cause, Agent Lo." He noted. "I have come to a decision. I expect you to take full credit for every successful assignment I give you. Should I find in any of your reports that you belittle your role in the accomplishment, the report will be rejected, and I will require a new one."

"Ah- sir, I-"

"That will be all, Agent Lo, you are dismissed."

Ceka opened her mouth to speak again, but the rulebook went through her head again. Disobeying orders was an offence one could be court marshalled for. But voicing disagreements were not prohibited, even though any officer would find a way to punish you for questioning orders.

However here, Ceka would risk it. "Indulge me for one more minute, sir." She all but demanded, causing him to once again pay close attention to her. "I understand what you're doing. You want me to step up; to be something greater than I am. Because after hearing what I am trying to accomplish, you believe you have a better strategy than I do."

Her words caught him off guard. She didn't give him enough time to recover before she continued. "I acknowledge that I probably don't have the best strategy. However, if you are going to require me to bend to your plan for my own life, then you're going to need a better strategy to get me to follow along." Ceka held her head high, and hid her nerves behind a strong voice. "Because if there is anything I know you have learned from your test and our minimal interactions, it is that I am patient, especially when I am being beat down and discarded."

"This is your way of telling me you do not intend to abandon your methods?" He inquired.

"This is my way of showing you the merits of my methods." She clarified. "And hopefully, I will change your mind."

Thrawn scanned her face once again, coming to some unknown conclusion. "It is unwise to reveal your end goal to the enemy."

Ceka offered a modest smile. "You are not my enemy, sir."

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way out the door. Ceka's heart raced and she had to make a solid effort to slow her breathing. Right then she promised herself that arguing with him would be forbidden from there on out. That was far too dangerous, and it was a miracle Thrawn hadn't cut her off and refused to hear her out. He could have her off The Chimera by morning. But even then she knew that this was an empty promise.

-X-

As it turns out, eighty-four was the magical number of rejected reports before Grand Admiral Thrawn finally gives in and calls you into his office to renegotiate the terms of his orders. It took twenty-eight days to reach this point. Every day, she would eat her meals and write out a new report to the same mission, even if Thrawn had yet to notify her that the last one was rejected. Ceka stood in front of his desk once again, as he flipped through all eighty-four reports on the holoprojector.

It was one single mission. An investigation into disappearing medical supplies from a medicenter on Pantora, that Ceka had figured out pretty quickly. But every single one of them was worded to shine the light of success into anyone other than her.

Thrawn must have been looking for something in the reports, but he was coming up empty handed. It was another brief moment before he shut off the holoprojector. "I admit, I underestimated your talent for persistence."

She couldn't have been more excited to hear that from him. In all honesty, it was wearing her out. Finding new ways to reword the same events was exhausting. "However, what you have shown me is something I did not expect to find." He said, now slowly walking around his desk to circle her. "My attempt to outsmart you was quickly turned into a challenge to outlast you. However, it has answered more questions about you than I could ever ask."

"I am glad the experience was illuminating, sir." She was careful not to appear smug or prideful in any way, even if she was rather proud of herself for this.

"What has come to light is exactly how you managed to remain unseen by those that wish to do you harm, yet impress those that you wish to be more visible to." He explained. "I would like to see you put this to use more often."

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

"To start, I will rescind my orders to take more praise in your reports." Thrawn said, causing Ceka to smile. "In light of your tenacity, I have another duty for you. As it is already one of your many tasks on my ship to assess the officers and troopers for information leaks, I would also like you to send me reports of those who rise above their peers."

Ceka was surprised to receive such a request from him. "Pardon me, sir, but can't you select your elite by looking at the reports yourself?"

"It has occured to me that you are far from the only officer under my command that hides behind their more obnoxious coworkers and modest wording in reports. Unfortunately, due to their efforts, it is difficult to find the more competent workers of my fleet." He explained. "You are in a particularly beneficial position to solve this problem. Seeing as you are not only interacting with the lower ranks of my fleet on a closer level, you also know what to look for in those that possess the same skill set as you."

"It takes one to know one." Ceka chuckled awkwardly, knowing exactly what he meant. Honestly it was a miracle he even saw her point of view at all. Let alone be open to changing his mind and instead giving her an assignment that they both agreed would suit her talents. "I can do that, sir."

"That is much appreciated, agent." Thrawn said, "You are dismissed."

Ceka turned to leave, but she stopped herself. Once again the rules made her hesitate. It might not be professionalism at its best, but she would give herself this allowance. "Oh, grand admiral, sir?"

Thrawn turned to face her once more. He was no longer a stranger to how bold Ceka Lo could be, but this time she wasn't angry. Instead, she smiled kindly. "Thank you. For giving me a chance." It was a split second, so fast she wasn't even sure it was completely real; Thrawn returned with a small percentage of a smile to her.

There was a faster moment that Ceka felt herself take a moment to recover, where her heart stuttered at the sight of him just smiling for a fraction of a second. However it was gone the moment she reminded herself where she was and who he was. "Sir." She nodded with a stern voice, bidding him goodbye before she marched back out the office door.

It was rare a superior gave her the time of day. And so rare to be given respect and a smile that Thrawn was the first to offer after many, many years of serving the Empire. Ceka held onto that image in her mind every time someone would say anything hurtful, or when someone would do something rude. She allowed herself to remember Thrawn gave her a chance to prove herself, and he respected her for it.

There were moments that she stood in his office again, whether it be for a strategy meeting or a PSA for the higher ranked officers, Ceka hoped to whatever god in the galaxy was listening that she might catch another glimpse of his smile.

He smirked quite often, she found. Not that it was very easy to notice those either, but once she was watching, she noticed. It was usually when he was explaining his strategy to his officers that his expressions were slightly more discernible. For the most part, he kept the same even tone, and strong, calculated glare. Red eyes kept up with every little detail going on around him, and Ceka had to wonder exactly which details he noticed.

Really at this point, Ceka found she looked for any reason to be around Thrawn. He was an island of peace in an ocean of exhausting people. But what really made her start to worry was when he probably figured out he was her island.

It was rather chaotic in the aftermath of an attack. The way The Chimera was run made the battle itself run like a well oiled machine. However, trying to get everyone on the same page, especially if there were significant losses, was pretty much hell.

One particular flight officer was being specifically infuriating. She just wanted to know how many TIE fighters they had left. Ceka did not need to know who was flying, and who came back, or why only four fighters could land properly. Cykla went off on another tangent about how they were going to need repairs before she finally cut him off. "Cykla, just tell me how many TIE fighters we have left in the fleet."

Despite her even tone, Ceka had murder on her mind and it must have shown on her face with how he shut up immediately. "Six."

"Great…" She hissed out. "Now I can go to my job and tell the Grand Admiral we need more TIE fighters. You are dismissed, Cykla."

He gave a curt nod, running off to do whatever the hell else he had to to get this ship running at full capacity again. Ceka busied herself punching the numbers into a slow datapad, being on the verge of throwing it against a wall.

"I take it Officer Cykla was being difficult." Thrawn's voice made her jump slightly, but the second her eyes landed on him, she gave a small smile, and she visibly relaxed.

"Just a little slow." Ceka chuckled, still trying to hit the datapad to get the damn number to punch in. "Which seems to be a running theme today."

"Is there something wrong with your datapad, Agent?" He asked.

"I dropped it off the hyperdrive room railing when the ship was first hit. Didn't have the chance to get it back until a few minutes ago, but it looks like a few people might have stepped on it." She explained, knocking it against her montral and hearing something make a pinging sound echo around in her head. That couldn't be a good sign. "Well, that's unfortunate. I have a few nostalgic files on this datapad."

"I am curious of what you might keep on a datapad that one would find nostalgic." He said.

"Oh, it was just a few of the Pantora Medicenter Investigation reports I never got to give you. I kept writing them until you told me I could stop." She shrugged.

"How many reports did you write?" He asked with clear curiosity.

Ceka actually had to think hard for a moment. "You gave up at eighty-four, but I had a few extras on queue. I wrote a total of one-hundred-two reports."

Thrawn usually did a great job of hiding his emotions, but ever since Ceka started paying close attention to him, she began noticing the smallest expressions he gave. Right now his eyes went to the side, as though he had to give himself a moment to process that information. There were eighteen more reports on that one mission. All of them ready to be rejected, where she was ready to write more.

When he did look back to her, Ceka was smiling again, now trying to stop herself from laughing. "Do you find something amusing, Agent Lo?"

She really wished she could say no. Usually when a superior officer asked that question it just meant to stop smiling and take things seriously. However it was not in Thrawn's nature to use many euphemisms or human sayings, so he was genuinely asking. "Yes, sir." She nodded, still smiling as she explained herself. "It's not all that difficult to read your expressions. And when I told you how many reports I had written it was like every gear in your head stopped turning all at once. I thought it looked a little uncharacteristic is all."

Thrawn became more interested in her words. "I have rarely heard that it is easy to read my expressions. In fact most say the exact opposite."

Now it was her turn to stop and think. How in the hells did she hope to explain this to him? Was she supposed to tell Grand Admiral Thrawn that he spent just about every moment of every day hoping to see him, or that if she did get to see him that she carefully watched him in hopes of seeing him smile again? No, that would be very bad. But lying to a superior officer was quite specifically stated in the regulation.

"I'm in ISB. I guess I'm just very good at watching for small details." Both statements were true. She didn't have to tell him that the two statements had little to no correlation in reality or that she was only good at watching him for close details. Everyone else she just knew how to interrogate.

A beat of a moment went by before she caught it. Another split second where he gave a genuine smile, only for it to be gone the next second. The instant that passed by in silence before he answered felt like an eternity. "Indeed you are."

His answer left Ceka more distressed than trying to figure out how to avoid confessing her every private thought to him. Did he know she was hiding something? Did he know all along what she was doing? She wanted answers, but nobody but Thrawn could give them to her. She was all the more terrified of what those answers might be.

Though, it was nice to come back to her cabin late that night to find a new datapad waiting on her desk.

She didn't see Thrawn for a while after that. Not one on one, at least. She would occasionally catch him in the bridge as she was doing rounds with all the stations. Though when Ceka looked over to him out of habit, more often than not, he would already be closely observing her. Every time he did, she would tense up again and focus back on her work.

The heart stopping call came later that week. Thrawn asked to see her in his office once again. She had no idea what this could be about, and nothing about the last week really stood out. And especially not since their awkward conversation.

Though, he didn't waste any time as soon as she entered the art-filled space. Right away, she could tell something was up. Thrawn had never looked so worn out, not even after talking to the lieutenants. "Agent, if you are not currently indisposed, I would appreciate some assistance."

"What do you need?" Ceka asked without hesitation. Either she would get this over with or she would have to prepare herself for a long task.

"There was an incident with a terrorist group on the planet surface this afternoon. Unfortunately, Commander Bengts is on medical leave for the next three weeks, and since you and I are the only officers left with the clearance and skills necessary to review the reports, we are the only ones to be able to complete the processing." He explained.

"Would these usually just go into filing? Unless there's something specifically abnormal about this incident?" Thrawn had already sent the reports to her datapad.

"Yes. According to several eyewitness accounts, an imperial officer was seen giving information and weapons to three of the attackers just before it began."

Ceka took a long breath, calming her nerves. It didn't help that she was already on shaky ground with Thrawn as she was still questioning if he was aware of her growing fondness for him. Good thing endurance was her specialty, otherwise she would have given up the first time he smiled at her.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she came to her choice. "This probably means they're waiting on some kind of information to pass on. They're not yet ready for a full attack, which is why they simply aided the terrorists and didn't blow their cover. By your estimation, how long do we have before such an informant gets their hands on severely damaging information?"

"Depending on their rank, approximately two days. In the next fifty hours, I will be receiving a transmission from the Imperial headquarters on the surface to account for the current number of troopers on guard and officers working." He answered.

Ceka took her datapad and began searching through the reports. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can sleep." She said. "Unfortunately, time is not something we have the luxury of."

-X-

-Thrawn-

"Let us start with who was present on the ground during the attack-"

"No, we need to start with who exactly these terrorists are, and what they were doing. What was their mission? How did they accomplish it? Where did they escape to after its completion? Or if they completed their mission at all." Ceka interjected. "We've been here on Wutellou for about a standard month. Start with the locals. What do we know about them as a people?"

Her interruption surprised him to say the least. To be completely honest, she hadn't ever stopped surprising him. However, Ceka had the right approach to the problem. He was certain she would just let him take the lead, but it was becoming increasingly clear that despite her near religious commitment to subtlety, when it came to him she was anything but reserved the way she was with everyone else. It was easy to see why Agent Ceka Lo had captured Thrawn's attention.

"Tellouans are a very spiritual people. They also place most of their values into unity and connection to one another and their planet." He explained. "The population seems to worship the ground, as a way of giving respect to the very thing that gives them the vegetation they grow for food and spiritual practices."

"That… sounds awfully familiar."

"I imagine it would." He said, pulling up a few sources on his holoprojector. "Watellou shares many similarities with your homeworld, Shili."

"However, they're largely vegetarians, from what I can gather. There aren't many animals big enough to eat on Watellou." Ceka noted, in a somewhat short tempered way. "So, they probably aren't as culturally focused on hunting as my people."

Thrawn noted how she grumbled about the lack of meat on the planet. It had occurred to him that Togrutas were carnivores, and unable to eat most of the food served in the mess. Though, he did make sure she wasn't starving, even though there wasn't a whole lot of good food for Ceka to eat. "You did say they hold a deep connection to their planet." She recalled. "So, it would be a fair assumption that they don't want the Imperial agricultural project on their planet, since it is so sacred to them."

"That is logical, yes." He agreed. "Which means their attacks are not likely to be carried out on a large scale, so as not to harm the ground."

"Let's take a look at the reports." She turned to her datapad, connecting it with the holoprojector. "The report of the soldier that saw what type of weapons were being smuggled said they were E-11 blaster rifles. However weapons were not the only thing given to the insurgents."

"The inventory report after the attack states several crates of empty gas canisters were also missing." Thrawn pointed out. "An attack utilizing poison gas would assure the land attacked would not be harmed."

One look to Ceka proved she was enjoying herself while digging for information. "Guess what the most poisonous plant on Watellou is." A smile cracked across her cheeks as she pulled an info file of a simple flower onto the projector. "The Osella blossom is a flower that is only found in the very few coniferous forests on Watellou. The one closest to where the supply warehouse was attacked is owned by a local businessman, who employs many people to gather these flowers. Oddly enough, four days ago, he reported that a large portion of his freshly picked flowers had gone missing."

Thrawn looked over the file on the flowers. "Only the roots are poisonous. The flower petals are dried and used for a tea that is very popular among the locals. Boiling the roots will secrete a poisonous gas known as Lesurra gas." He read. "We know the insurgents are planning a large gas attack. More than likely on the Imperial command center that has been established."

"So we know what they want, how they plan to do it, and because of the information you will be getting in the next two days, we know when they plan to do it." Ceka concluded. "Now we just need to figure out who is planning to leak that information to them."

"Now we must narrow down the list of suspects based on reports." He said. Ceka took a deep breath, finding a seat on his desk as she began reading through reports.

The low light of the holoprojector illuminated her more now that she was seated right next to it. The blue light did little to change the tone of her skin. It was rare that Thrawn met many Togrutas in his line of work, however, even Ceka was certainly something of a rare specimen of her species.

When Thrawn was researching her, he found that the specific shades of light blue that showed on her skin were only found in two clans of the Lo Tribe, and nowhere else on Shili. Ceka had a very soft appearance. Her age wasn't shown anywhere other than the length of her lekku, which placed her perhaps a year or two younger than himself. Her montrals rounded backward off her head and spiked back up like horns. The patterns across her skin were soft, bubbled shapes that spread all around like water.

But it didn't take a military genius to know she was so much more vicious than her appearance suggested. Particularly her deep violet eyes, that scanned everything as though it could give her something if she just convinced it of such. Ceka bit her lip in focus on the task at hand. She was quite brilliant, even if she was convinced her only talents were in enduring brutal treatment. Thrawn wanted nothing more than to show her that she had other talents that could help her never see such brutal treatment ever again.

In some ways Thrawn noticed Ceka's favor of him, though usually only through her demeanor. It confused him how she could manage to be both comfortable expressing herself to him and rigid the second he acknowledged her comfort.

In many ways, Thrawn saw himself being drawn to her. He rarely bothered to know his subordinates more than basic research, and in truth, Ceka was one of only seven people to ever peak his interest enough to give them the test she passed with such ease. Her response had only heightened his curiosity of her character. Even this was an opportunity for him to learn more about her. And every time he learned something new, his interest only grew.

This was indeed going to be a long night.

-X-

It had been nearly eight hours. Four a.m. galactic standard time. Every report from the warehouse had been looked through, and even people that weren't planetside had been looked into. Nothing looked even remotely suspicious.

"I don't suppose you've already ruled out the possibility that they had someone impersonate an officer?" Ceka asked with a dragging voice. She laid on her back on Thrawn's desk, staring up at the holograms that still hadn't given them a lead.

"You ruled that out three hours ago." He reminded her. "If I recall correctly, you said a Tellouan with a skin color and texture similar to a human's would be more rare than finding one with horns small enough to fit into an officer's uniform. I also agreed, stating that using an infiltrator would not guarantee they would be able to get the information they need for their attack."

"You're right." Ceka groaned, rubbing her eyes again. "Either way, we're running out of time. Forty-seven hours to find a traitor with no leads is damn near impossible."

"You say 'near impossible.' Is there something you believe would make the task at hand possible?" He asked.

"The ability to drink three gallons of caf in a minute would be helpful." She said, "More people to look through the reports would be useful. Many hands make for light work, after all, but alerting our subordinates that there is a traitor amidst them is too high of a risk. I think it's impossible to find the culprit in time with only two people."

Thrawn was impressed with Ceka in the eight hours they had spent together theorizing and even arguing at times. However, he would admit he would have never gotten this far on his own, this fast. Most of the investigation is credited to Ceka. It was his job to help her investigate, then come up with a plan once they had found their traitor.

"Agent, you are an exemplary investigator. If there is anyone that can accomplish this in the given timeframe, it is you." He said.

Suddenly, Ceka sat up. About a million thoughts looked to be passing behind her eyes before she settled on one. "Timeframe…." Her voice was quiet, as she once again took control of the holoprojector, still sitting on his desk. "We're looking at the wrong timeframe."

She pulled up personnel files from everyone who was planetside for the last four days. "Remember, four days ago, the report of a missing batch of Osella flowers was given by a local businessman?" She asked. "We know his own employee probably stole them, right?"

"That was the logical conclusion, yes." Thrawn agreed.

"First, what if the traitor isn't working alone?"

"Then I suppose only half of the information would be present in the reports of the warehouse attack. The other half would be with someone we have already ruled out, thus making it impossible for us to find the culprits on those reports, alone." He reasoned. "Who do you suspect?"

"Four days ago, Commander Bengts was hospitalized. The morning after the Osella flower batch went missing." Ceka explained with a smile on her face, searching for a minute before pulling up the commander's medical file.

Thrawn read the file thoroughly before landing on something that Ceka must have known would be there by the way she smiled. "Reason for hospitalization: Toxin inhalation." He read out loud.

He turned to Ceka once again, only to find her still smiling. "We can order a test for the Osella toxin and have the results in the next two hours."

"That only leaves her accomplice." Thrawn noted, searching through the reports again to see which officer specifically has been stationed with Commander Bengts for their assignment to Watellou. One name stuck out. "Supply Officer Cykla was planetside, stationed at the warehouse during the attack." He pointed out. "Cykla was also the officer that filled out the inventory report of what was stolen. And has also been assigned to the command center tomorrow to report inventory, where he will have access to the transmissions being sent from the command center."

Ceka placed her feet on the ground, standing tall, but a little wobbly from the sleep deprivation. "Shall I set up interrogations, sir?"

"No need." He ordered. "I will give the order to have Commander Bengts tested for the Osella toxin, and I shall reassign Officer Cykla to accompany me to organize the information from the command center. He will be forced to abandon his original plan and act in panic, giving us the evidence we need to incriminate him."

"I can help, sir. You don't need to carry this out alone." She was nearly pleading even if she could keep it behind a thin layer of professionalism.

"I am sure you can offer your skills to the mission. However you are sleep deprived, and until you are well rested, you would be unnecessarily placing yourself in harm's way if you were to continue like this." Thrawn reasoned. "As of now, you are relieved of duty until you have recovered."

"But, sir-"

"That is an order, Agent Lo." His voice became stern, but as he watched Ceka, she appeared to halted all cognitive thought as she suppressed a shiver. Thrawn noticed how her face became hot and the muscles around her throat tightened. He was unaware that Togrutas not only blushed on their face, but also their lekku.

Ceka had to force herself to breath again. "Yes, sir." Was all she could get out from behind tense muscles and a figure frozen in place.

"You are dismissed."

She marched off in a hurry, though Thrawn didn't get the impression that she was scared at all. In fact she seemed to be enjoying herself quite a bit.

Thrawn decided to focus on the task at hand. He had just barely learned the nuances of human behavior, he didn't have the time to figure out what made Ceka tick before his command center was eradicated.

-X-

-Ceka Lo-

After Thrawn had commanded her to get some sleep, Ceka was having a surprising amount of difficulty letting go of consciousness. There was a lot to process, particularly about how the entire night had gone.

She hadn't meant to so casually sit on his desk, though when he didn't stop her or even mention it, Ceka allowed herself to get comfortable. They had started the night speaking with formalities, though as time progressed and exhaustion began to take hold, she began interrupting him when she felt like it, as he would for her. She swore a few times without any shame. When she laid down on his desk, he didn't say anything. She took every liberty, and Thrawn gave them without any question.

But at the very end of it all, the order he gave her wasn't what surprised her. It was her own reaction to how he spoke. Heat shot up her spine and she stood at complete attention. What shocked her was that she honestly didn't expect to be given an order, despite everything Ceka had drilled into her head from day one at the academy. Somehow, she felt comfortable enough around Thrawn that it was a surprise when he did normal, imperial, things.

Though, even then Ceka knew this could only be the beginning of something terrible.

-X-

Somehow she managed to pass out after an hour. When she awoke again, everything appeared to be working smoothly. No trooper was out of place, no officer looked worried, and all was as though Ceka never fell asleep in the first place. Though, a quick look at her wrist chrono told her it had been nearly six hours.

Walking through corridors to Thrawn's office, she found something must be working well. There were two troopers standing guard instead of just one. "I take it Cykla is in there?"

"Yes sir." The command trooper confirmed. The other flinched when he spoke. Suddenly the other trooper was very interesting.

"Is something bothering you, trooper?" Ceka asked with a warm smile. She wasn't ignorant of her appearance. She was rather soft looking, and it was easy for people to underestimate her or trust her. Most people she interrogated were more likely to trust a non-human because of how rare they were in the Empire.

The trooper stood firmly at attention. "No sir." There was something off about his voice. Though, with two words, it was difficult to place.

"It's ok to be anxious. I'm sure anyone would be worried once they wondered why the grand admiral doubled the security in his office." She suggested. The trooper must have been eyeing her cautiously behind his helmet.

"I assure you, I'm fine sir." He said. Now Ceka could place it.

"You won't be." Before he could even flinch, she knocked the blaster out of his hand and rammed his head into the wall. The command trooper aimed his gun at the two of them, unsure as to what was going on. "At ease, soldier." She said, taking the helmet off the unconscious criminal, revealing dark green skin, and very small horns for one of his kind. "He was probably back up."

"How did you know?"

"His Tellouan accent." She said, restraining the prisoner. "Now I just need to see what his plan was. Take him to containment. I'll stand guard here."

"Yes, sir." He replied faithfully, throwing the infiltrator over his shoulder and carrying him away. Ceka pulled her blaster out, and set it to stun, now waiting for Cykla to make a break for it.

A loud crash came from inside the office, and the door hissed open. She stunned Cykla as soon as she laid eyes on him. Thrawn looked between Ceka and the man on the floor with mild amusement. "May I set up interrogations now, sir?"

Thrawn calmly caught his breath, wiping some of the blood off his cheek. "Yes, Agent Lo, that would be the wisest course of action."

...

Thrawn and Ceka stood together, watching the live feed from the two interrogation rooms, waiting for Cykla to regain consciousness. The Tellouan infiltrator nervously fiddled with the cuffs on his wrists, probably trying to find a way to break them off.

"Commander Bengts tested positive for the Osella toxin." Thrawn said, "She has been placed under arrest, but is still recovering."

"We'll need more evidence if we want to convict her. Getting one of these two to admit she's an accomplice should be enough, but I am not confident they'll talk for anything short of their freedom." She noted, looking at the two of them. Cykla was now gaining consciousness, frantically looking around the room and struggling against the restraints.

"Perhaps striking a deal with them is necessary."

Something was finding Ceka rather uncomfortably, and she wanted nothing more than to tear it apart to find out what exactly made it that way. It was Officer Cykla. He's panicking and struggling far too much for someone that had a decent plan until now.

"Perhaps not." She said, exiting the observation room and entering the interrogation.

-Thrawn-

Cykla was quick to stop moving as soon as Ceka entered the room. She didn't say anything as she sat down on the table to his left.

Thrawn couldn't see much from here, yet at the very least he could tell she wasn't trying to be imposing. She reached across the table and released his restraints, sitting back on the table comfortably and without any sign of defensiveness.

She was waiting for something. Pushing this man to the edge of something, but waiting for him to jump off on his own. Ceka remained silent. From the angle of the holorecorder, Thrawn couldn't see her face, but he almost intrinsically knew she was giving her subject a kind smile.

The silence must have become unbearable to the human. "What do you want, Lo?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She said, "You see, a witness at the scene of the attack yesterday saw you aiding the terrorists in their escape, but there's something that's gone completely unanswered, and I want you to give it to me."

"I'm not about to turn on my allies." He hissed back at her.

"Oh- no you aren't. Certainly not yet." She said, "At least not without a reason to. I happen to be in a position to get you just a year of community service, and a dishonorable discharge from the Imperial Navy. Where you can live out the rest of your life doing whatever you want."

"And what in the hells makes you think I value myself over my cause?"

"Why shouldn't you?" She asked as though she were genuinely concerned. "I've seen how much value your life has. And I believe it's worth more than being executed on a treason charge." Cykla broke eye contact and stared at the floor. "I'm not a fool enough to believe you don't have people you're doing this for. Wouldn't it be better to go home and see them again?"

Cykla came to his conclusion quickly. "I want to negotiate those terms." He said.

"Then negotiate."

"I tell you who my associate is, and I take the blame for everything." He said, "Everything was my idea, and she was forced to take orders from me. She gets to live."

"Cykla, you will be executed for this."

"But she won't." He stated. "I want this agreement in writing. So you can't back out after I'm gone."

"Your accomplice must mean quite a lot to you." Ceka noted.

"She is everything and more to me." He said.

Ceka stood from the table and exited the interrogation chamber. Making her way back to the observation room where Thrawn was waiting for her.

She was clearly torn by the situation. She began tapping through her datapad.

"What are you looking for?" Thrawn asked.

"Commander Bengts' medical record." She said, "I have a strong suspicion about why Cykla is so desperate to protect her."

"And why would that be?" Thrawn asked, curious about what Ceka saw that he missed.

Suddenly she stopped scrolling, her shoulders deflating in defeat. Handing the datapad to him, she pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the wall, perhaps in regret.

Thrawn looked at the data on the medical file. It was a few pages after the tox screen results, so it wasn't important at the time they were initially investigating. However, it was possibly the most important piece of information in the whole investigation. "She's pregnant."

Ceka nodded. Now it made more sense why she was so torn on this decision. "Tell me I'm being too soft." Her voice held strong, but the tensity in her muscles said otherwise about her emotions. "Tell me we should just execute them both, and move on with our lives. That it's better to just manipulate his confession and charge them both with treason like every other officer would."

"Do you truly believe that to be the wisest course of action in this case?" Thrawn asked.

"I want to believe it is in my best interest."

"Yet you are still questioning it."

"By Imperial Law, I need a confession from him to charge her. But if he doesn't confess to her being an accomplice, then there's nothing I can do, and at most she'll be medically discharged." Ceka went through her thought process. "Either way, Cykla is going to be charged with treason. There's no way I can get around that."

"Then perhaps you don't want him to give up Bengts." Thrawn suggested. "She will be medically discharged, and you don't live with that on your conscience."

"I can't allow Imperial Law to be determined by the weight on my conscience." She argued.

"Then don't allow it." He stated.

"It'll be a failed interrogation on my near flawless record."

"Attempting to rationalize the less favorable option will not help you make the decision you have already made."

Ceka bit her lip and closed her eyes. She took a moment to take a deep breath before neutralizing her expression and leaving to speak to Cykla again.

On the holoscreen, Ceka stood to her full height. "We will not abide by such an agreement for your accomplice."

"You what!?" Cykla burst. "You can't! She has to live!"

"It will take more investigation, but I am confident that I can find a name without your help." She calmly exited the room as Cykla struggled against the handcuffs.

Ceka didn't return to the observation room.

[embarrassingresultofmyfreetime]

2020 Masterlist

Here’s a list of all the fics I’ve posted this year! (Listed by category, then chronologically:)

Link to my ao3 where you can read all of these: embarrassingresultofmyfreetime

~

Currents wips:

And They Were Quarantine Mates

An old disease has resurfaced on Earth- one which most humans recover from but is permanently lethal to Time Lords.

Because of this, the Doctor stays on Earth to make sure her humans make it through okay.

And because of the Doctor, the Master- against his better judgement- also chooses to stay.

Reluctant to leave the safety of the Doctor's Tardis, the Doctor and the Master find plenty of ways to pass the time but it can be difficult to enjoy each other's company with so many things left unsaid.

Good thing they have plenty of time in isolation to work it out.

Word Count: Currently 88,172

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Spyfall: Battle For Humanity

This is a little number I like to call: Roleswap AU with Dhawan!Doctor and Whittaker!Master

It's sort of a rewrite of Spyfall p2 but it's better.

Word Count: Currently 5,688 (will be about 12k when finished)

~~~

-

Main fics (completed):

Please Tell Me Why Do We Worry

Summary: After learning about the final loss of Gallifrey, the Doctor takes some time to grieve and finds herself with surprisingly mixed feelings about the whole ordeal.

To her surprise, a knock at her Tardis door soon reveals the Master not only alive, but in uncontrollable mental agony as he reveals that the Doctor's suffering has been amplifying his own emotions via their telepathic bond.

Note: (After so many kind and positive comments on this fic, I finally gained the confidence to start posting more! A huge thank you to so many people it means so, so much to me!)

Word Count: 5,068

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Second Chances

When Graham finds a teleportation cube offering an all-expenses-paid vacation, he, Ryan, and Yaz take up the offer and give the seemingly-distant Doctor some time to herself.

After the events of Skyfall 1&2, the trust between the trio and a certain timelord is shaken. However, when their vacation quickly becomes a nightmare, it's up to the Doctor to bring about peace on an upsettingly familiar planet.

Note: (A rewrite/fix it of S11 episode Orphan 55)

Word Count: 7,130

-

All’s Fair In Love And War

Having escaped alive and alone, the Master dwells on his failure and uncertainty at what to do next.

Purely by accident, he runs into a version of the Doctor he's never met before and she gives him a much needed perspective on their relationship.

Word Count: 4,653

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Truth and Reconciliation

“I... I destroyed a lot of things, but not this... trove of secrets. This is what started it all.”

Missing Scene where the Master goes to Gallifrey and discovers the truth of the timeless child for the first time + alternate ending to The Timeless Children episode

Word Count: 7,563

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The Doctor Finally Gets Some Rest

(Ch2 update Missy pov)

The Doctor promised to guard Missy for 1000 years, but Missy doesn't mind returning the favor.

Word Count: 5,671

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I Wouldn’t Wish It On My Best Enemy

"Just deserts appeared to finally be served for the Doctor. All her running had come to an end, all the lives she's taken or caused had finally been assigned a numerical value, and all the morals she had once believed in seemed to crumble to dust right before her eyes.

A life sentence.

She had JUST BEEN TOLD she would never die, and the first thing the universe does is give her a life sentence.

What kind of cruel joke is that?"

Basically: The Doctor reflects on herself while in prison, the Master rescues the Doctor and actually helps her, and idk read the tags

Word Count: 4,629

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Brand New Reality

In an alternate timeline: The Master is killed in the Time War but the Doctor finds a way to salvage his oldest friend's mind by binding it to his Tardis and building him an android vessel as a way to interact with the physical world.

The Doctor also manages to save the Time Lords from their war- but he is still a renegade in their eyes. As punishment, the High Council uses the Doctor- and by extension the Master- as their personal diplomats/field agents.

The Master isn't too happy about being trapped on the Doctor's Tardis, the Doctor is fed up with being the equivalent of a dog on a leash to the Time Lords, so in a moment of anger and also pure luck- they break out from their world and end up on a parallel one with a very different version of their universe and very different versions of themselves.

(Shalka!Universe Doctor and Master meet their modern counterparts- the Thirteenth Doctor and Dhawan!Master)

Word Count: 10,148

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The Imposter(s) Among Us

The Doctor has been searching the universe for the Master, but it's only when she takes a break to help a damaged space vessel that she runs directly into him!

The Doctor has a hundred and one things to ask him, but there's no time for any of that now. The ship is barely functional and if the mysterious murderer doesn't get to the Doctor first, then the trigger-happy crewmates might throw her out the airlock before the killer gets a chance.

Word Count: 12,655

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My Dear, Doctor…

The Doctor investigates an anomaly to find that her previous self has stood up their oldest friend for the umpteenth time.

Confused as to why the Doctor can't recall ever receiving Missy's invitation in the first place, the Doctor goes searching for answers and ends up finding far more letters than just one…

Word Count: 6,657

~~~

-

Series:

And They Were Happy Au Parts 1-4:

Part 1: Dinner and a Show

All his lives, the Master had always believed that he and the Doctor could hold on for about the same amount of time. He always imagined that when they reached their last lives, they would both give all this up and spend their retirement years bickering and raising bees or whatever. The Master didn't particularly like bees, but he had always imagined that the Doctor did and as long as they were together, that was enough to satisfy him.

What he had discovered in the Matrix had proved his ideal endgame impossible.

The revelation that the Doctor was The Timeless Child meant that the Doctor would always live on. They would always evolve and survive no matter what happened. The Doctor would always race to people in need; and now, they would never have any reason to stop.

(AU where the reason the Master wanted the Doctor to kill them both in The Timeless Child is bc he's on his last life)

Word Count: 5,120

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Part 2: Dinner and a Show One-Offs

"The Doctor did her best to space out her visits with O. For every couple adventures she had with her 'fam', she would stop by his home once or so. Sometimes she let months slip by, because she knew that the longer she waited, the less of O's limited time she used up.

She felt guilty to calculate it, but if O was already in his mid-thirties and he lived a full human life...

Suffice it to say, she wanted it to last for as long as possible. She had never had a situation as stable nor as safe as she now had with O. After everything they had both been through to get to this point, she refused to jeopardize a single moment.

For all the pain the Master had caused her, O was well worth the wait."

(By popular demand, a continuation of 'Dinner and a Show')

Word Count: 10,926

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Part 3: Unjustifiable

O- having no recollection of his actions as 'The Master'- returns to being Earth's Horizon Watcher.

O is proud of his work and he cherishes the Doctor's frequent visits, but it's becoming increasingly apparent that she's been keeping more secrets about his past than he had theorized.

To make matters worse, the arrival of an advanced species of aliens on his doorstep brings with it a whole new plethora of problems. Something terrifying resurfaces when O hears they're searching for a Tardis and things go terribly wrong.

Word Count: 23,870

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Part 4: Found Family

The Master finally gets around to seeing the universe in a more peaceful way and runs into a young woman looking for her father.

Word Count: 3,663 (Will possibly be updated at a later date, but complete for now)

~~~

-

Oneshots Inspired by others (specific inspiration in the beginning notes of each):

All Alone In The Dark

While heading back to Earth, the Doctor hears someone calling for her help.

She tracks it back to the Master- injured yet alive- and finds him trapped in his own head, reliving his last confrontation with The Time Lord Council before the destruction of Gallifrey.

Word Count: 1,926

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You Again

The 10th Doctor and Missy each escape their last canon appearances believing that the other is dead for good.

So imagine their surprise when they run into each other at a party in the 1920's.

Word Count: 6,943

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Sick Day

The Master has everything set up for his latest evil scheme but when he tracks down the Doctor, he realizes his best enemy is in no condition to fight. So the Master does what any good nemesis does and takes care of him.

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Word Count: 2,807

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Prompt: "Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge!" "Can I pick?"

The Master’s Tardis had traced the call seven minutes in advance to this exact time and location. He pushed open his Tardis door to find himself in front of some no name bar with graffiti scrawled on the side, situated in front of an empty ravine. He was on Earth, and there was probably a similarly ramshackled city around him, but he didn’t so much as spare it a glance.

The Master’s steps were determined, his jaw clenched, and his hands shaking despite his signature device in hand.

He had been on the other side of the universe, licking his wounds like any old villain would when disappointed by their latest nemesis showdown. It all made his blood boil to have caved so soon. To come back and HELP the Doctor.

The Doctor still had O’s number and her call was scheduled to be made in exactly seven minutes. A hysterical, agonizing call that begged the Master to intervene. He wasn’t sure what was worse, hearing the Doctor in so much despair, or the disappointment that hearing her in such agony somehow didn’t lessen his own.

Word Count: 2,410

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The Beginning and The End

Prompt: First Doctor, Dhawan!Master, Gallifrey, and the dialogue: "I know my words mean close to nothing for you. But I do, in fact, love you very much."

Basically Theta (Academy Era Doctor) accidentally runs into the Master on a burning Gallifrey

Word Count: 4,499

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Kisses Like That

The Doctor's never understood why humans enjoy kissing so much- but a certain, somewhat familiar woman piques his interest.

(Missy goes back in time to give 10 a lil kiss)

Word Count: 1,885

Spyvember 2020

Collection of short fics I did inspired by Spyvember prompts (from Tumblr)

Word Count: 15,506 (6 separate chapters)

~~~

Thank you to everyone who has inspired me, commented on my work, read any of my writing, and overall has just supported me in any way this year!! Thank you for keeping me motivated and helping me improve as a writer!

My best wishes to you in the new year! <3

[thiswasinevitableid]

47 for OT4, SFW or NSFW I love your writing! :))

Thank you! I went SFW for this one.

47: you overhear me complaining to my coworker about your ridiculous daily coffee order, whoops

“Oh christ, here he comes.” Duck mutters to Indrid as he pumps hazelnut syrup into a cup, “the one I was tellin you about.”

Indrid, stationed at the counter, tilts his head as he watches the windows, “would he be the one that looks like a lumberjack or the one who looks like a secret agent?”

“The second one. I dunno what it is, but his order drives me fuckin nuts. It’s super specific; dark roast, single origin only, heavy cream until it turns about that color” he points to the wall, “with a half pump of caramel and a half pump of vanilla. You’re gonna be that specific, just make it at home.” He’s busy putting a lid on  the drink and therefore misses Indrid’s hand waving. 

“I do, and it’s not that hard.” A deep voice makes him turn; the lumberjack, looking more amused than annoyed.

“And since you know my order so well already” the other man, smile, tight lipped, at him before turning to Indrid, “one of those and one large, black coffee.”

Duck starts the drink, making it as fast as he can so he can slink off into the back room. Shit, if the guy rats on him he could get in trouble, he’s already on thin ice after throwing out some rich kid for harassing the staff. 

Indrid takes the drinks, mouths, “go” and heads around the counter while Duck makes a bee-line for the supply closet. 

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

Indrid sets the cups down in front of the two men, then slides a plate with a large, hot monster cookie on it between them. 

“On the house, as they say.”

“This an apology cookie or a ‘don’t give us a bad review’ cookie?” The lumberjack smirks.

“Both.” Indrid says mildly, smiling and returning to his post.

 As he walks away he hears the deep voice whisper, “wouldn’t kick that one outta bed for eating crackers.”

A soft laugh, “Agreed. Pity his friend is an ass.”

When Jake and Hollis arrive a few minutes later to take over for him and Duck, he finds his boyfriend clonking his head into the wall by the break room. 

“Don’t worry, love, I smoothed things over.”

“Thanks. Just feel like a dipshit. Both for gettin overheard and complainin in the first place.”

“I assumed it was stress from waiting on interview results.”

“Yeah.” Duck pulls on his jacket, “still feel shitty though.”

“Come, let’s go home. I have some ideas for relaxation.” He purrs, kissing Duck’s cheek. 

“How may of ‘em are fuckin’-based?”

“Half.”

“Good, gives us some variety just in case.”

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

“We’ve paired you with another duo, if that’s okay?”

“Sure” Duck smiles at the Escape Room employee, takes Indrid’s hand as they follow him down the hall, “Aubrey says these are more fun in a group.”

“I look forward to--oh dear.” 

Duck turns to see the pair from the coffee shop last week. The lumberjack looks about the same, but the secret agent is dressed more casually than usual. His black hair is loose rather than slicked back, and he’s in jeans and shirt that reads, “Champ” with a dark outline of sea monster on the front. He almost looks cute.

“You’ve been  trapped in the lair of hostile, highly intelligent space aliens. You have an hour to escape. Good luck” The employee shuts the door, leaving the pairs to stare at each other. 

“Uh, hi. Again.” Duck waves awkwardly

“Hey.” The lumberjack waves back, “so, uh, this is hella awkward, right?”

“Yes.” The other three respond.

“Cool. Look, I dunno about you but I don’t wanna get dissected by aliens. So, bygones?”

The others nods and he smiles, “I’m Barclay, this is Joseph. My, uh, my boyfriend.” It’s distinctly odd watching such a large man blush like a schoolgirl. Joseph smiles, kisses his cheek, then looks around the room.

“Alright, we need to find the four symbol code to enter onto that pad. Spread out and look for places symbols might be hidden.”

They find the first one easily. Indrid’s eye for color and patterns helps them locate the second, and when a clue points to the third being high up, instead of having to construct a makeshift ladder or step-stool, Barclay simply reaches up and grabs it. It does not escape Duck’s notice that both Indrid and Joseph get appreciative looks on their faces when Barclay then moves a “cloning pod” out of the way all by himself. 

“I suspect the last symbol is hidden one something that is in...that hole.” Joseph points to the newly revealed wall lined with several cubbies, one of which has danger signs written all around it.

“Not it. Too close to a garbage disposal, and I have nightmares about putting my hand down that at the wrong time.” Barclay shudders.

“I would also prefer not to be the one to reach in; such elements often have a loud noise gimmick and I do not enjoy that.”

Joseph glances at Duck, blue eyes glinting with a not-entirely-friendly challenge.

“Fuck it, I’ll do it.” Duck steps forward and cautiously slides his hand in. Indrid’s instinct was right, as the whole starts vibrating with a loud, grinding sound. Indrid yelps, grabbing the other two men, who in turn jump and scream  in surprise. Duck grits his teeth, fights the urge to pull back, and finds a smooth tile waiting for him. When he removes his hand the noise stops, and he grins, triumphant, as he shows off the last symbol. 

“WHOO!” Barclay cheers and high-fives Duck  as Joseph punches in the symbols, stopping the timer on the wall, “shit, that was wild man, scared the living hell outta me and I wasn’t even  the one doing it.”

“Mmmm, my brave hero.” Indrid drapes his arms over his shoulder, kissing him.

“Sap.” Duck teases, kissing him back.

“You know, we make a pretty good team.” Joseph brushes stray hair off his face.

“Yeah. Would, um, would you guys like to go grab coffee or something?” Barclay looks genuinely hopeful, which is why, ten minutes later, Duck is sitting across from Joseph in a dark-wood coffee shop. Indrid has excused himself to wash his hands and Barclay is outside taking a phone call from someone named Mama.

Duck sips his coffee (black) as he watches Joseph measure cream into his mug.

“That explains it; guys who drink black coffee are always weird about guys who don’t.”

“Don’t Barclay drink his black?”

“Only when we’re out, when we’re at home he’s always making fancy coffee. Trying out new recipes. It works well. Or, um, mostly well. There was a green tea cherry espresso that was not his finest.”

“Eech. Heh, that reminds me of the time ‘Drid was so groggy he poured strawberry syrup into his coffee instead of caramel. Didn’t phase him one bit, but I felt like I was kissin a berry patch the whole day. Swear the man’s half moth or some shit from how much sugar he drinks.”

Joseph snickers, “sorry, imagining Indrid as a mothman is a funny image.”

Duck pictures it and giggles, which makes Joseph laugh harder. When they recover, he scratches the back of his neck, “Look, I’m sorry I was a dick about your coffee order. Just havin one of those weeks where everythin got on my nerves.”

“It’s alright. I’m not all that bothered by it. Not intellectually, anyway. Being particular or precise is something people have been, um, less than kind to me about in the past.”

“Nothin wrong with knowin what you like.”

Joseph glances out the window at Barclay, “No, no there’s not.”

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It becomes a weekly arrangement; the four of them meet for some kind of activity, then go to lunch or dinner. Duck learns many things over those weeks; that Barclay can figure out how to reverse engineer Indrid’s favorite cupcakes from a local bakery, that Joseph has a worryingly deep yet very endearing knowledge of bad horror movies. That while Joseph is terrifying during a trivia match, Duck can still wipe the floor with everyone when it comes to the science categories. He learns that Joseph is trans, like him, and that Barclay and Indrid actually went to the same high school but were two years apart and thus didn’t know each other. 

Right now, he’s learning that he’s not as good at laser tag as he thought he was. 

They went during the cheaper hours, mid-afternoon on a Sunday, and while all four of them are on the same team they’ve gotten separated in the neon-tinted darkness. 

He can tell the enemy team has spotted him, and is moving as fast as he can out of range, when a hand reaches out of a darkened turret and pulls him in.

“GAHoh, phew, scared the hell outta me Joe.”

“Sorry, it was safer than calling out.” The space is small, built for kids rather than two twenty-six year olds, and so Joe is pressed right up against him as he watches the door. He might be the only guy Duck knows who wears honest to god cologne, clean and minty smelling, and the scent wraps around him when Joe pulls him back against his chest to hide them from passing opponents. 

“Fuck, that was close.” He whispers.

“Don’t worry” Joe murmurs in his ear, voice huskier than normal, “you’ve got me to look out for you.” He breaks away as if nothing happened, pulls Duck’s body out into the glowing chaos, while his mind stays in the little room, wondering what the fuck that was.

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

 “Can’t believe we got our asses handed to us by a bunch of eleven year olds.” Duck groans as they sit, licking their wounds along with soft-serve from a tiny shack that Barclay swears by.

“That one blonde girl is gonna grow up to be a sniper.” Barclay offers his cone (chocolate and sour cherry) to Joseph, who takes a prim bite.

“It may run in the family; I think her dad was the one with the ‘Go Army’ shirt.” 

“Oh, were we not supposed to be going easy on them?” Indrid cocks his head. The others stare at him in mute shock. 

“I’m kidding; I was utterly outmatched in there.” He grins before dragging his tongue up his cone (pineapple and marshmallow). When he reaches the tip he opens his mouth wider, taking it all in with a satisfied moan. He pulls off, stray ice cream dribbling down his chin until Joe hands him a napkin. Indrid thanks him, then proceeds to do the exact same thing, over and over, and Duck realizes neither of the other men have looked away from his boyfriend. Barclay’s legs are now crossed, and Joe’s cheeks are pink. Duck can’t really blame them--he knows exactly what Indrid can do with that mouth--but what’s stranger is he doesn’t feel jealous or annoyed. He knows Indrid sometimes struggles with looking, in his own words, “offputting.” It’s nice to see two other people catch on to just how hot he is. 

Then again, he kind of wishes Joe would stop staring and eat his own cone; he wants to see what his tongue can do, too.

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

“Watcha drawin’?” Duck slides onto the couch next to Indrid.

“Just random images.”

“That us with Joe and Barclay?”

“I, ah, yes it is.”

“Like it a lot. Christ you’re talented, it’s like how much you like us is comin’ right off the page.”

“Is, ah, is that so? I hadn’t noticed, ah, oh dear, I just remembered I need to go call Jake about covering my shift.”

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

Duck: That new barcade is finally open, wanna come with us on Saturday?

Barclay: Wish we could, but we got a friends birthday that night.

Duck: No big, let us know if you want to catch a flick on Sunday

Barclay sets the phone down, not remembering it’s a group text until Joe pokes his head out of the bedroom.

“Shit, whose birthday is on Saturday? We need to get a gift.”

“Oh, uh, no, no one. Just, uh, didn’t feel like going out but didn’t want them to think I was, like, angry or something. Sorry, shoulda asked if you wanted to go without me, shit, that was rude.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind time that’s just for us.” He crosses the living room, fiddles with Barclays hair, “but let me know if you want to see a movie Sunday, I’m happy either way.”

“Uhuh, will do.” Barclay nods, not really paying attention, as he imagines silvery hair in the dark theater and holding slender, cool fingers in his own.

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

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t actually have that DVD to loan me?”

“I do” Duck shuts the apartment door behind Joe, “but we got some things to discuss first.” He waits until Joe is sitting next to Barclay (lured here by the promise of cookies) and across from Indrid (lives here, not that hard to lure).

“Look, I don’t think I really gotta point out how weird it is that we went from hangin out every week to not seein’ each other for near a month. But what I do gotta point out is why it’s happenin’.”

“We’ve all been busy?” Joe hazards.

“Yeah, but we all were busy before and we made time for each other. Now we, myself included, are cancelin shit.” He takes a deep breath, “Barclay, Joe, you both got a thing for ‘Drid, don’t you?”

Joe nods while Barclay blushes and mutters, “yeah.”

“And ‘Drid, you got a thing for both of them?”

His boyfriend shifts nervously in his seat, but nods all the same. Barclay looks genuinely surprised. 

“Well, you three ain’t the only ones realizin’ you want more than you got. Joe, I, uh, I really like you. As in wanna date you. So, uh, that’s where we’re at.” He sits down next to Indrid, who instantly takes his hand. 

“That’s...wait, don’t we all want the same thing?” Joe looks between them, puzzled. 

“You’d really be okay with me dating Indrid?” Barclay asks softly. 

“We’d both be dating him. And I’d be dating Duck as well as you two. Assuming that was alright with Indrid?”

“....You know, I think it is.” Indrid squeezes Duck’s hand, “I was afraid to admit how I felt; I didn’t want to come between you and Barclay, because you clearly love each other, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Duck. But I’ve also seen how happy he is around you, Joseph; there is no reason we could not all work things out to be happy as a, ah, polycule? Is that the term?”

“Think so.” Barclay relaxes, “fuck, I felt so bad thinking that wanting Indrid would fuck everything up, don’t know what to do with my self now that I’m not stressing about it.”

“I propose we order dinner and just...talk.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “I think that will help us sort out where to go from here.”

Duck orders takeout from the Chinese place down the block as Indrid and Joe arrange the living room into a place where they can all sit together comfortably and Barclay grab drinks. Soon they’re gathered on the floor, working out logistics and boundaries and hopes and fears between bites of fried rice and chow mein. Joe keeps notes, curling closer to Duck as the evening goes on. 

There’s a part of him that wants to jump straight to sex, to pin Joe to floor and fuck him while his other boyfriends do what they want to him, to Duck, to each other. But this thing between them is a new leaf in spring, vulnerable and just beginning to grow. 

So, after dinner, they cuddle up on the couch and floor to watch the midnight movie on local T.V, hands tentatively finding each other and bodies gradually resting closer together in new configurations. 

He falls asleep on the floor, Indrid spooning him and Joe resting his head on his belly. Wakes up with Joe curled around him and Barclay cuddled up to Indrid, snoring softly. 

Duck slips out of the configuration, pads into the kitchen to start coffee. When Joe sneaks up behind him he gasps, snickers as the taller man kisses him good morning. Then he grabs two mugs, smiling to himself at his luck as he opens the fridge. After all, he already knows just how his new boyfriend likes his coffee.