#jason you're smarter than this

[pichitinha]

if they pull this jamie shit i'm gonna riot

[rockingthegraveyard]

Babygirl is a disaster and I love him.

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[hanasnx]

“ WHEN THE NIGHT CALLS ” — jason todd.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content ノ p in v ノ objectification ノ possession ノ roofie mention but not in use ノ gun is involved but no gun play ノ bondage ノ size difference ノ name calling: bitch. NOTES: for @xstarkillerx who drove me wild with one single line.

It takes a lot to please the ARKHAM KNIGHT, most will never know what his approval is like. You are of the few that receive it consistently. Sometimes it's even multiple times a night, frequently.

The HQ is full of bustling militia, passing around beer through strobing lights they crafted from old torches. Their leader was reluctant to let them celebrate, and without several external factors he never would've conceded, but you have a way of persuasion. "If you don't let your men cut loose once in a while, you'll overwork them. They're about to roll into Gotham, let them have this." you believe you had said. Apparently, he'd seen reason through his frighteningly iron grip on this project, or he'd seen your tits in his favorite cami. Either way, you pat yourself on the back.

Your visitation to the keg was met with several hungry men staring you down, offering you compliment atop compliment, one even brave enough to clutch his hand over yours on your cup to bring to the mouth of the nozzle for a refill. They're not stupid, they know you're spoken for—at least in some small way. The most clueless ones may be in denial over the fact you have a special relationship with their boss, but for most it's clear to see that the Arkham Knight stakes a strong claim over you. It's reinforced by your honeyed verbal gratitude towards these desperate men that's immediately followed by your loyal sauntering right over to where the Knight sits. Some deflate with a disappointment knowing you're sweet on them only to return to where you belong, others are smarter than that.

You tilt your head at your disinterested lover, slouched and knees spread in some makeshift throne the boys threw together. The mouth of his heavy handgun strokes up and down his thigh as the digital eyes of his mask watch past you as you approach him. Those gloved fingers tap in a graceful line at the armrest, beginning from his pinky to his thumb in a wave. Despite your hard work in coordinating this, he doesn't seem to be having any fun.

Your thumb swipes at the liquid at the corner of your parted lips, sweeping the bottom one to the side, letting it bob back in place. A motion he takes note of, and finally recognizes you're coming his way, visibly adjusting in his seat to afford you some room. You take the invitation, twirling on your heel to seat on his other thigh, the muscle pressed flush against your sex through your little skirt. A protective arm rounds you, resting the weight of his hand on your bare skin, the tip of his finger toying with your skirt hem. "I don't like that you wore this around them." he speaks into your ear, low and digitally grated. You both know the kind of people he's had to hire, and he's not fucking stupid. His men look at you the way dogs look at fresh red meat.

"I figured it would be alright. You know how to break a jaw, remember?" you reply slyly, an impish grin stretching your smile into something near dazzling. You raise your cup to take a swig, but you glance at him confusedly when the tip of his gun intercepts you, guiding the rim away from your mouth and back onto your lap. With furrowed brows, you inspect the foam of the beer, wondering if he'd seen someone slip you something while they were giving you a refill. Would they be that stupid to do it in front of their boss with eyes like a hawk? You don't know, but you set it off to the side just to be sure.

"Don't like that I'm supervising this thing either. We should be tying up the loose ends." he murmurs, tucking you further into his hard armor. The grip on your thigh suggests he wants to do more than tie up loose ends. A familiar thrill shoots up you, centering in your core, that sensational sting of a memory roots there, making sure you remember what it's like to be filled.

"Why? You wanna tie me up or something?" you suggest playfully.

You didn't think he'd take you seriously. His quarters don't have a headboard, but he didn't seem too worried about that. "Oh—Oh! Jay... Jason, fuck..." you sigh, a dense and gooey pleasure between your legs rolling your pretty eyes into the back of your head. The noises of sex fill the room, skin slapping skin, drenched pussy getting fucked loud and proud.

"Yeah? Yeah, pretty girl, you like that?" he replies with a haughty snicker, peeling your tepid hips off the sheet to meet his own. Big hands grasp the flesh of your backside, lifting and yanking you onto his dick as your tits bounce from the motions. "So wet. You were asking for this, struttin' around in that little outfit—" An obscene groan reverberates from his throat at the memory, throwing his head back as his whole body flexes. Your bound hands lay underneath you, rough rope biting into your skin in a most delicious way. "Fuck, baby, push me off if you don't want me to cum all up in this cunt." You mewl pathetically, squirming in his grip only for him to laugh at you. His gorgeous body rolls under your gaze, deliberate and slow, licking your insides with his fat cock. "Yeah, bitch, take it. Take it just like a fucking fleshlight. Let those cucks know you're cuffed."

[warmilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 3

___________________

"Missing: If found dead or alive, please contact the authorities"

Dick feels like he's about to puke, every time he sees that fucking poster, every time it's played in the news

He feels like he failed, not just as Nightwing, but as a brother, he was supposed to be a protector, projecting you as a vigilante and as a hero

Everything keeps replaying in his head, how you were always out of theme in family photos because Damian keeps telling you the wrong one, but no one bothers to tell you the real one

How in a single day, everything you've ever built was abandoned, your room, your school, your friends (he wasn't sure if you had any) (ps: you didn't, Damian wouldn't let it happen)

How no one was there to help

And he saw another poster "bring back dead or alive"

He wasn't sure how he's going to accept if you're actually dead

Because if you're alive, there could be a chance, he'd apologize to you, and he knows you're kind enough to accept it, he'll spend lost time with you, and everything will be fine

But with every minute that passes, it feels like slowly you are pulling away further from him (if it's still possible that you could be pulled further than you are now)

________________________

2 years ago

"How long are you gonna keep disappointing me like this...?" Bruce sighed deeply

He got your report card, funny enough, the only time he sees you is when you do something wrong

And it wasn't like you failed either, it's just that it's lower than what your siblings got, it's lower than his standards

Well sorry you're not Tony Stark level, am I right? Ahaha-

You weren't stupid, you just weren't as smart as your siblings, in your defense you were smarter than them at some other stuff, it's just that it's the stuff your father didn't care about

"Dad are you finally throwing out the anchor?" Damian snickered

You huff at the insult, knowing if you insult him back you'll get in trouble "it's not even that bad-"

Jason furrows his brows "yeah, but it's not good enough, I hope you realize how lucky you are compared to the other kids in Gotham, you should repay it by being outstanding"

"And not to mention as the first born biological child you should uphold yourself to the standards given to you, if you can't do that then stand down" Tim scoffs at you

That comment may or may not be from an insecurity that he isn't Bruce's real kid (despite being more loved than you)

"don't you think you're being too dramatic? I don't even want that stupid company" you grit your teeth

"that stupid company is what keeps a roof over your head, stop being so ungrateful"

Damian's face has that shit-eating grin once again "throw it out the streets maybe then it'll know"

It's always that fucking suggestion that throws you off, every fight, they call you a burden in this house, they want you out

You feel like if it weren't going to be a legal problem Bruce would have done it

"you guys are so full of yourselves, I don't know where you pull the 'i'll fix Gotham' mentality when you can't even fix your own issues" you grab your grades and leave

"You fucking-" you hear Damian say but you ran to your room, to the far corner of the Manor, a guest bedroom (you were kicked out of your master bedroom when Damian came, his reason was "it's too stressful seeing it everyday", so they moved you)

______________________

Present

"Diana...?" Bruce calls

"Diana!, what is it!?" Bruce yells "What do you see?"

Diana looks like she's about to cry, as she examines the footage in front of her

another demigod dead

She thinks, her hands shaking at the sight of another child, like she once was, dying at the hands of those monsters who hunt them down

Does Bruce know? It didn't seem like he did, if he knew- he would have protected the kid right?

Then she sees light, she sees the little kid run into the garden, and meet nymphs, she sees the kid escape

"oh thank the gods..." She whispered

Without saying another word, she left the tower, leaving the others confused, she knew where the kid was

(Name) was safe at camp

_______________________

I just finished an exam and the entire time I was taking it, the edit of "dynamic duo", starring Nightwing and Redhood kept playing in my head

Also this series is gonna have multiple parts, I wanna make things easier for you guys :3 , how do you make a masterlist?

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@bat1212 @vanessa-boo @sweetconnoisseurgardener

[lunaxstrange]

BATFAMILY HEADCANON

The young members (Cass, Steph, Damian, Duke) absolutely refuse to believe that Discowing ever existed. So the conversations go something like this:

Steph: You're telling me that Dick "charms strangers on the street without even trying" Grayson intentionally looked funky while saving the city?

Babs: *shrugs*

Steph: Pfft. Nice one, Babs. I almost believed you.

Damian: Grayson is smarter than your whole family combined.

Jon: But Kara told me-

Damian: Supergirl should mind her own business.

Jon: You know, she even went on a date with him back when he was Robin! I heard her telling Kon that it was terrible...

Damian: *offended* In case you have not noticed, Jonathan, my brother is with the Princess of Tamaran. I do not think he achieved that by having a suit worse than you.

Cass: *signing* He is definitely trying to mess with you.

Duke: I don't know, man. Tim said he had evidence of the suit till Oracle had him destroy it after he became Robin.

Cass: *signing* Sounds too convenient.

Duke: I guess...

But they want to clear it up just for the sake of their own conscious. They've tried confirming it from Jason but he goes into a spiral of mental trauma (Dick threatened to leak the picture of him crying while watching Lilo and Stitch).

Cass: *signing* Is it true?

Jason: *sighs dramatically* Whenever I try to think too much about my Robin days, *looks at the ceiling* it brings back bad memories.

Cass: *holds his hand* I'm so sorry. That was stupid of me.

Jason: *shocked and feeling bad* Oh no no, I'm fine-

Bruce and Alfred just brush them off. Bruce does it for Dick's sake and Alfred likes to see them fuss about all day discussing the legitimacy of Discowing.

Damian: Father, I must see the record files from Todd's Robin days.

Bruce: Why the sudden interest?

Damian: I wish to, well, help-

Bruce: *well aware what this is about* No.

Alfred: Miss Brown, I have no knowledge of Master Richard's life after he became Nightwing.

Steph: Bullshit. You know everything that goes on in the manor.

Alfred: Evidently, this happened outside the manor. *smiles* If it even happened, that is.

And with Dick not even giving them a chance to bring it up, Discowing becomes a myth all around the heroes. Did he truly exist? We may never know.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Mixed Messages

Written with season 1 Spencer in mind

Summary: The 5 times that you think you might hate Spencer Reid + the 1 time you realize you can't.

Alternatively; You're completely oblivious to your own growing feelings for Spencer that it constantly puts you in harm's way.

This can be seen as a prequel-sequel + sequel (?) to "A Question Unasked," but can be read independently of it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader | cw: slight spoilers for s1e02, s1e04, s1e06, s1e10, and s1e18 | reader gets really mean in the later half lol |slight description of canon-typical violence, slight timeframe switches because it made more sense that way | word count: 8.9k (yowza--)

“It’s something, I know it is.” You mutter to yourself, rubbing the pads of your fingers together in an attempt to gather your thoughts. But you can’t. 

Can’t find it. 

Can’t find that one word.

“What do you call that thing when you–” you snap your fingers at your colleague. Your equal. “I’m sorry– what do you call the urge to do something or behave a certain way?”

This was your second case out on the field with the rest of the BAU since you’ve been recruited, and it had not been easy for you. 

The BAU always seemed like a prestigious unit to be a part of. Only the best of the best ever got to rub elbows up in that department, having been founded by Jason Gideon and David Rossi. 

Two of the most legendary profilers in the world.

And right now you, you haven’t been feeling the best. But Aaron Hotchner seemed to have thought otherwise.

Spencer thinks for a moment, trying to understand what you had just asked him while he stared at the board that still had the team’s ideas on it. 

“Actually, it could be a number of things; urges, cravings, stressors, compulsions–”

“That one! You’re amazing at this, Dr. Reid.” 

After noticing your knack for the more analytical aspects of the job, your mentor, the unit chief himself, had assigned you to work with one Dr. Spencer Reid. Another fresh grad that could not have been any older than you, but certainly seemed way smarter. 

He said that you would work well together.

And you believed him.

You looked at the calendar that had been marked when the fires were started, fully missing how the genius had frozen at your praise, and you frantically reviewed the theory in your head. 

Double-checking, triple-checking, and nodding when you see it’s consistent.

You then hurriedly pulled up the recording of Matthew in his dorm. Hovering so close to the screen, that Spencer had to be equally as close to it, and by extension to you, in order to even try seeing what you were seeing.

 “Do you see it?” You look back at him, and his face is so close, you almost lose your nerve but thankfully, Gideon opens the door to check up on the both of you.

He pauses as if he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be, but carries on anyway.

“Don’t just look at the next move. It’s like chess, think three steps ahead.” He says it mostly to Spencer, you notice, but you also notice how he was slightly bothered by your proximity to his protege. 

He doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re working as a profiler now for a reason.

You move away a little. 

When he leaves, Spencer turns to look at you again and asks what you saw. 

“See this?” You ask as you point to the part where there were two, clearly lit windows on screen and he nods. “There are two fires, right?” He nods again.

“Now look at this,” You show him the part where Matthew gets wet with gasoline, and is eventually set aflame. 

“That was the third fire.”

You see Spencer’s eyes light up at your statement, and you hurriedly scrub back to where the unsub had been trying the door knob. Making sure to zoom in on the handle.

This time, it's the boy-genius that says it. “He turns the knob three times.” He looks at you to confirm his statement, and you nod. Looking into his eyes. 

Something you did out of respect.

“Right, so if we’re not wrong,” you use the pronoun on purpose, “the professor’s office should have something to do with the number three as well.”

He walks with you to the burned office, professor Wallace’s office, and there you collectively discover more of the same number. 

You have all the evidence you need.

***

“Sir Hotchner, we know why the profiles never fit.” It’s you who opens the door first, but Spencer is the one that carefully closes it behind you.

He looks at Gideon. “You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent.” He then sets up the computer that you two had brought and you continue for him.

“So far, the fires that have been set are completely task-oriented.”

Hotch quirks his brows at that. “So once the fires are set, the unsub is done?”

You nod.

“Correct, sir. The reason why the profile never fit is because it contradicts the mold of a classic serial arsonist– his use of fire is the compulsion of a completely different disorder.” “Which is?” Gideon questions.

“An extreme manifestation of OCD– Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.” Spencer answers as he finally found out how to turn the computer on. The two of you exchanging lines in perfect synchronization.

“He does everything in threes. And if I’m right, he’ll have to kill again.”

The four of you discuss the behavioral evidence that had led to this discovery, with Spencer taking the lead as he mentions its possible tie to ‘scrupulosity,’ a type of OCD centering on religious obsession. 

As you continue though, and you know you shouldn’t take it to heart, but the way that Gideon’s constantly questioning your ideas and not Spencer’s was starting to make you feel uneasy. As if you were a bug under his careful scrutiny. 

Or was it the way that you sat?

 Granted, there were only three chairs in the area, so you had absentmindedly sat on the bit of the desk that had been uncluttered. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, and certainly not Spencer, who had cleared the area nearest to him just for you. 

So what…?

Being the non-confrontational kind, but not one to be pushed around, you take a mental departure from the discussion and start thinking about what else could be useful to the case. Bringing something new to the table that’s relevant.

You try to think if there had been anyone that stood out to you. Spencer had mentioned religious obsession, and the call from earlier definitely supported the idea, but you couldn’t single out one theology student that would fit that criteria.

You tried getting up from where you sat. Pacing has always helped you gather your thoughts, but you didn’t even need to take those few steps when you felt the cold sweat run down your back.

And it seemed like Gideon had noticed it. “What is it?”

You turned to slowly face the rest of them. “I think I know who it might be.” You groan as you think about it.

 “And it’s not a he.”  If you thought about this too late and another fire is happening right now– 

—-------

It wasn’t until you were on the flight home that you felt like you could breathe easy again. You didn’t have to be near Gideon anymore, giving you the side eye every time you were the least bit close to his protege.

You could just exist silently while you think about what to write in your report.

It wasn’t Spencer’s fault, nor his mentor’s, you thought as you stared at the somewhat empty file in your hand.

 You’re sure that Reid didn’t mean to take credit for the theory that you had essentially spelled out for him, and you’re also sure that Gideon was just a little uncomfortable with how unprofessional you might’ve seemed. 

Looking all cozied up with his golden boy. That had to be the only reason why he practically ignored you, but congratulated the boy-genius.

You sigh and wonder if you’ll ever get on his good side. Maybe you just needed to work a little harder.

As you nod at your resolve, it's your mentor that takes a seat in front of you.

“Congratulations on your second case.” You’re still a little starstruck, getting to work with him, but you manage out a polite, ‘thank you’ as a response. 

You try to make yourself look busy by rereading the other file that had been completed.

You already made a fool of yourself in front of one of your seniors, you didn't want to mess up in front of him too. Hotch could–

“I meant it, by the way.” 

You look up at him again. Eyes wide in question, and perhaps fear, as you realize you don’t understand what he’s talking about.

“You were focused on that calendar more than any of us, even before we landed in Arizona. You recognized the pattern before you even knew what it meant. And that definitely helped.”

“Oh.” Is all you could say, because what else could you have said?

A small laugh leaves your mouth. He recognized you for your efforts. Made it known that he saw what you saw, and that what you saw was helpful. 

Without the usual mention of the boy-genius.

It was a moment just for you. 

A moment where you vowed to work harder. Smarter.

And the moment you knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner was the best leader that you could ever have.

“Oh and agent?” Both you and Spencer look back to see your supervisor, but you see that it’s you that he’s singling out. “A private word, if you please.”

You nod without a second thought, despite not knowing what this other meeting could possibly be for. You were just as clueless as you were about the one earlier. 

What you weren’t clueless about was how you felt towards your situation. You had been assigned to work with Spencer so often that you were starting to get sick of it. 

Not a slight to his company at all, on the contrary! You actually enjoyed it! He was a fascinating and accomplished young man that charmed his way into your heart with his little fun facts and references. 

And if that weren’t enough, Morgan hadn’t exactly coined the nickname “pretty boy” just for laughs.

 Dr. Reid lived up to that expectation. 

With his soft brown hair, bright, inquisitive eyes, and how cozy he always seemed in his clothes— how could anyone dislike him? 

No, it was the attention that you were getting that was starting to frustrate you. Or perhaps the wrong kind of attention, would be more appropriate.

Lately, it seemed as if you were only being treated as an extension of Dr. Reid. As if you were always attached at the hip, and that you always knew where he had to be and what it was that he was doing. 

You don’t know where all this came from. Not even a little bit.

All you know is that it was slowly starting to rub you the wrong way, and that you wanted a semi-permanent departure from the situation.

But that didn’t happen because Spencer had just unknowingly shut down your only chance.

You digress, and put your feelings aside for now. You were at work, after all.

“What did you want to discuss with me sir?” 

Hotch makes the effort to clear away his desk for a bit, and places his hands on top of it. Grasping them together as he looks at you with his usual stern expression.

“We’ll be issuing you a gun soon. You’re qualified to own one after having enough hours on the field, and you’ve shown a respectable record, so please keep that in mind.”

Your eyes widen in glee. Those were just a few words, but you couldn’t help how your heart swelled in pride at them.

It wasn’t the gun that you were happy about, it was what it represented.

Being issued a gun by the bureau signified that you were officially part of the team, and that you were deemed a responsible enough member of the organization to be trusted with it.

You should be honored to be given this chance and yet it felt sort of wrong— something didn’t sit right with you.

“Sir, with all due respect, while I’m thankful for the opportunity, I don’t see why I’m being issued a gun when Dr. Reid has still yet to have one.”

He sighs at that, as if he had hoped that you wouldn’t ask, but he tells you anyway. 

“Dr. Reid has failed numerous firearm qualifications and will be retaking his test soon.”

You nod slowly, still not quite seeing the relation between the two scenarios.

He sighs again, but this time, with a small, tight smile. 

“We’ve been thinking that it would instill more confidence in him if you knew your way around a gun. He seems to have a great respect for you, and seeing you have one might help him a bit.”

You smile at that and respond good-naturedly. “Duly noted, sir! I’ll make sure he has the confidence that could rival even Derek Morgan’s.”

He shows you a polite smile and dismisses you promptly. Getting back to his stack as you nod and you make your way to his door.

It shouldn’t bother you, and it doesn’t, you think.

 A job’s a job. 

If it wasn’t going to be you, it was going to be someone else. You just so happened to have been given this particular job due to the presumed rapport you had with one another, and you saw no problem with that.

You trust your boss, and it’s not like you dislike Spencer, so it shouldn’t bother you at all.

And yet it does, ever so slightly, when you see Morgan and Elle, crowding and cooing around him like he was a baby when you make it out of Hotch’s office.

You’re confused at what it is that you’re feeling, but you hear something akin to the word, ‘math.’ What could they be teasing him about now? 

“Is something going on here?” You hope they don’t see how hard you’re trying to keep a straight face. Looking to and fro.

You’re at work now, and you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. 

 "Was just caught trying to add my stack onto pretty boy's plate." Morgan says with his usual chuckle.

You detect a slight hint of something else hidden somewhere in there, probably another inside joke that you weren’t in on, but you can’t bring yourself to pay it any mind. 

So you let out a small, ‘hm’ to let them know that you heard what he said, and you eventually turn your back to them to reach your desk.

You don’t see the way Derek shoots you a knowing look.

And you don’t see the way Spencer looks at you longingly either. Too busy burying yourself in another stack of files, sure to go overtime once again, to drown out the unknown feeling that was welling up inside you. 

Did you hate Spencer Reid?

“Isn’t it amazing he knows what he knows and he’s only twenty-four?” Gideon huffs out and gives Aaron a small smile in response.

“Imagine what he’ll know by fifty.” 

It’s times like these that you remember that he does have the capability to smile. Well of course he’s smiling, his surrogate son looked like he was having the time of his life, blowing out those trick candles. 

Everyone crowded around him.

Everyone but you and the two seniors.

You want this moment to be something that everyone can enjoy, and you know just how much it would sour Gideon’s mood if you were right over there. So you opted to take your place right next to Hotch.

And Hotch seemed to notice that.

“Why aren’t you with the rest of them?”

You really don’t want to answer that right now. Not when the reason is staring right back at you, waiting for your response as well.

“I can see the party just fine from here.” Is what you settle for, and look right at Spencer’s still heaving back to make a point.

Before he could question it any further, he’s called to the other side of the room where a phone call was waiting for him. 

Reid takes the opportunity to excuse himself and take his place by Gideon’s side.

“You having fun?” The elder asks and he nods slowly at that.

“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 

He punctuates each pause with a tight-lipped smile and a snark that is just itching to break free and you can’t help the little chuckle that escapes you. As it happens however, you quickly try to hide it behind a cough and a cover of your mouth.

You’re right next to Gideon, you need to look professional, you think, no matter how cute or ridiculous Spencer might look. 

You quickly try to find Hotch with your eyes to ground yourself. Trying your best to zone out and not pay attention to the conversation happening right beside you, but it’s getting increasingly harder to do that.

“I wonder where the cake was from.” The younger one asks absentmindedly, but you feel the twitch of your fingers at the question. 

Gideon subtly looks over to you, but he doesn’t answer him. Instead asking if he made a wish yet, which quickly changes the trajectory of Spencer’s questions.

You let out a breath of relief, but the moment is short-lived when you see the solemn expression on Hotch’s face.

“Sorry guys. Party’s over.” You put your game face on, and quickly excuse yourself from them to grab your go bag. 

What you didn’t see was that Spencer had failed to notice Gideon’s gaze because he had been looking somewhere else. 

He had been looking at you. Waiting for you to greet him with a happy birthday like the rest of them did.  You were the only one that wasn’t there, after all.

But you had already been looking at Hotch, and that, he notices.

***

The more cases you work for the BAU, the more you realize how much of your work isn't just the investigation anymore. 

You feel it when you still see the victims’ faces when you close your eyes. 

Feel it in the hammer of your chest when you have to face off another degenerate with a gun. 

Feel it in the tenseness of your shoulders when either Spencer, or Gideon, or Hotch, or any of them are looking at you because if they even have the slightest idea that you’re not doing fine, you’ll lose your place on the team.

If you even had one, that is.

It was a strange position you were in. Everyone was expecting you to be boy-genius’ sidekick or something. Having all these ideas of you being someone bigger and stronger than you really were. 

Someone that was smart enough to show him just where to look, but not smart enough for the rest of the local PD to listen to because for some reason, it was more believable when it came out of Dr. Reid’s mouth.

You still remember how Morgan rolled his eyes at you when you corrected him. ‘It’s a ballad, actually. Not a poem.’

What’s worse was that the only person that didn’t seem to have this expectation of you was Spencer himself because he had no idea that any of this was even going on. 

He didn’t ask for this.

He was just doing his job, just like you were.

You’re officially off duty, now that you’re on the flight back to Quantico. So you unfortunately no longer have the excuse to shut away your feelings for the sake of your profession. 

You sigh and figure that maybe a little shut eye could help, but that idea is completely thrown out the window when you hear the soft pads of rubber-soled shoes shuffling on the jet’s carpeted floor.

You look up to see the less than comfortable posture of one Dr. Spencer Reid. Obviously caught between trying to go back to the main space, and just staying near the tail where you were.

Your heart warms at the sight and you invite him over.

You were thankful that he took up on your offer. 

Even under the harsh lights of the craft, you still notice just how soft Spencer looks. Even softer now that he’s donning your gift, and rambling on and on about how cool the color purple was to him. Gesticulating with his hands in a frenzy and you relax for what feels like the first time in months.

If you didn’t work together, you realize, you could’ve been a lot closer. He’s everything that you liked about a guy. He was smart and sensible, with a childlike wonder for anything and everything. 

There was an endless amount of things that he could accomplish, with a brain like that.  

And he was only twenty-four.

He was just like you, so why weren’t you closer? You ask yourself this as you sigh out, but you immediately find your answer in the form of his and your mentor looking right back at you. Whispering amongst themselves and occasionally shaking their heads. 

Looking just like they had earlier when you had brought in Spencer’s cake before the rest of BAU had showed up for duty. 

You know that there’s no way Reid can see them. Not when his back is quite literally turned to them, so you opt to ignore it. Maybe it was all in your head.

And maybe working with him so often wasn’t so bad. 

After all, how could you hate Spencer Reid when he’s this happy from just a scarf?

You see the scarf again, soon enough. 

Maybe a little too soon.

The BAU had received an urgent call to McAllister, Virginia to investigate the supposed work of a satanic cult. Two bodies that had sustained identical blunt-force trauma to the head were recovered, one skeleton and one fresh, but the team was debating the involvement of the cult in the case.

“You're saying that there's no such thing as devil worship?” Elle asks with disbelief, but is quickly answered by Gideon.

“Not at all. But most of the satanism that we've seen is juveniles damaging property, desecrating churches, cemeteries,” He shrugs a little as he pauses.

“Besides,” you add. “Satanists, removed from religious stigma, are just ethical hedonists. They reject the perceived oppression of the Christian community by building their own, and indulging in more worldly pleasures. They’re not inherently violent.”

The elder nods at that, and you feel a bit proud of yourself in that moment.

“And to my knowledge, there has never been a proven case of a satanic ritual killing in the United States.”

“Well, maybe there is now.”

***

The scene is certainly interesting.

Gideon, Reid, JJ, and you were curious about the state of the older body, so you had made your way down the steep slope to check up on it. You get acquainted with the local sheriff while you’re there too and he explains that they found the body when they were doing their own investigation.

 Just seventy-five feet away from where they found Adam.

“It's a man. The male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped, as opposed to oval.” Spencer announces as he prods at the body’s clothes with a stick, but he is immediately distracted by another element.

“Melted wax?”

“Candle wax?” JJ asks as she leans forward a bit to see it too. Spencer agrees.

“Candles are used in rituals.”

“They’re also used on birthday cakes.” Gideon is no longer interested in the scene and looks for something else that could be nearby. 

You, however, notice something different about the body. You were expecting it to look different.

If you were blitzed from behind, gravity tells you that you should fall forward. Chest on the ground.

But this skeleton’s chest was facing up. 

“Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual.”

You nod, seemingly not paying attention, but you add on to that. Much to Spencer's delight.

“Yeah, they thought that evil spirits lurked around the days of major changes so they lit candles for every year that had passed. Anway, sir, do you happen to have a good picture of Adam’s dead body?”

The sheriff narrows his eyes at the two of you, then looks at JJ who only shakes her head with a smile. 

“What kind of kids did you bring out here?” 

***

You’re surprised it took you this long to actually feel like you needed a gun. 

Hotch, as always, had paired you and Spencer together.

 Again. 

But this time, it was to go out on the field.

You had been left behind with him to continue searching the Jenson’s house. To look for anything that could concretely point to the group being responsible if the case ever went to court, but you and Reid found nothing.

And it was expected that you would find nothing. You and him had agreed that it was just far too convenient if you did, but then that kid— Cory— He asked you two to check the abandoned house farther up. 

A house that you’re pretty sure not even his father knew about.

And that’s when you got the idea. It was dark, law enforcers weren’t nearby, and you were trying to trace the tracks of an unsub that lived in an area only locals wouldn’t get lost in. You had every right to feel nervous. 

Especially when you had that sinking feeling that the unsub was the one guiding you right where he wanted you to be.

So when he led you to a house that had the goth kids’ insignia written in bright, red paint, you knew that you had to play along. 

But you also knew that whatever may or may not have been up there, the team wouldn’t want Spencer to see.

You didn’t want him to see.

So you look back at him, and nod. Giving him a look that told him that you would check the house alone, that you had a plan, and that he should stay exactly where he was until you gave him the okay clear.

By the time you got back down, he knew you saw it. 

You saw the girl, and you knew you had to get Spencer out of here.

Fast.

“Was she in there?” Cory grabbed you by the shoulder, and you could only gulp.

You had to think quickly, but you were also still so shocked to see her in– whatever state it was that you saw.

And then this kid was just pretending like he didn't know jackshit about it.

“She was in there.” Was all you could breathe out, vacantly looking past the kid that eventually let you go.

 You instinctively reach for your phone, speed dialing Hotch, but the service was so bad up here that it wouldn’t even go through. You had to clear the area, in case this goes haywire.

With no other choice, you said what you thought could get him out of there.

“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.

“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 

“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.” Looking dead into his eyes, he still doesn’t relent.

You need to calm yourself down. The more he thinks you’re not okay, the more difficult it’s going to be to convince him to leave.

He whispers your name as if it’ll persuade you. Grasping your shoulders like Cory did, albeit more gently.

“Right now, you’re experiencing an acute stress response, also known as the fight-or-flight response. It would be much safer for all of us to–” “Do as you’re told.” 

He freezes, but he’s still looking right at you. Eyes shaking in what you assume to be fear or worry, but he eventually nods and leaves. Constantly looking over his shoulder at you and he trips a little because of it.

You make sure that he’s out of sight before turning back to the football-genius. 

 You saw the gun he wasn’t so subtly concealing in his pants, and there was no way you were going to risk him hurting anyone else. You included.

You position yourself right in front of the house. If he makes a break for it and runs in there, it’ll be game over for just one cop and one manic robber. So you try to keep the open forest his only escape route.

That’s when you start cornering him. 

Telling him that you knew what the profile said about the killer and how it all seemed too good to be true. How the crime had to have been done by someone who was just as smart and connected as him.

How it could have only been done by him.

What you failed to take into account however was how Spencer would have definitely come back to check on you and report his findings.

Your heart drops as he stumbles into the fray.

Which is why you’re here right now.

Gun drawn at the kid, with his own resting right on your friend’s head. 

“She shouldn't have gotten mixed up in all this, it was his run! I didn’t mean to hurt her, but make no mistake– I will shoot your boy right now.”

You raise your hands and drop your gun in surrender. Scared of what he might do to him if you don’t.

—-

You hear Aaron Hotchner shout for you as he approaches uphill and you sigh. 

You’re fully expecting to hear a lecture, but not the look of deep impatience that graces your supervisor’s face.

 “Agent, I hope you understood what just happened.”

You shrink under his gaze, but he doesn’t let up. “Your actions during this operation put both you, and Reid, in serious danger.”

“Sir, but we handled it. I even made extra sure to evacuate Dr. Reid from the premises, I just wasn’t expecting him to come back and–”

“But that doesn't change the fact that he had a gun on Reid mere moments before you took him down. You were antagonizing him and while you may have been successful in apprehending him, what you did also put Reid at risk.”

This was unfair. 

He was talking like you hadn’t had the same gun pointed at you too. 

Like he hadn't made an effort to shoot at you.

There was nothing you could’ve said that could stop him, and you acted as fast as you could but you knew Hotch wouldn’t listen to any of it.

So you stayed quiet. Nodding along in understanding as he gave you a rundown of everything that you could’ve done better, and anything that you could’ve said differently.

Things that, he said, you could’ve done better while trying to keep yourself calm. 

Tring to keep yourself calm after discovering a dead body, and being threatened by someone that had your friend at gunpoint.

What’s worse is that not even a moment after Hotch left you to talk to the rest of the team, Morgan came and it looked like he had his fair share of complaints too.

“Sir Derek Morgan, I understand that you might be mad–” “Oh, so you know I’m mad?” You curse and groan out childishly, you know that, but you just really wanted to leave now. 

“Kid, I get that he jumped you, but you can’t just go rogue and expect everyone else to know what you’re doing.” 

You scoff.

“I didn’t go ‘rogue,’ I sent out Spencer to get backup so I could handle him myself. He would’ve been out of the line of fire. I did that to protect him–”

“No. You did that to play hero.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Splitting up and acting on your own like that wasn’t heroic. It was reckless. Do you know how much sleep he’s losing right now and how much more he’s going to lose just when all of this hits?”

You shake your head humorlessly. Why is it always about him?

 You’re not responsible for knowing anything and everything about him, you’ve barely known each other for a year. Why is it suddenly part of your job description to be boy-genius' caretaker?

“He’s been having nightmares,” he says your name with a weight in it.

“Don’t give him any more reasons to stay up at night.”

And he just leaves you right there. Going up to the very guy you were talking about, who was being checked by the only medic the county had on standby. Probing to see if he was alright. 

And he seemed like it. If the way his face lit up at Morgan’s embrace or the way that he smiled when JJ congratulated him was anything to go by. 

Or the way that Hotch patted his back to soothe him.

 Or the way that Elle seemed to be intently listening to what he was saying–

He’s not your responsibility, so why the hell should you care?

God, it just wasn't fair.

And you know that. You know that he didn’t ask for any of this to happen, and that you should be happy that he’s fine–

But you can’t bring yourself to look at him for any longer. Not when he goes to look at you with that tight-lipped smile and raised brows that makes him look like he can’t do anything without you.

Not when it’s starting to look like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Not when it starts to feel like he’s doing this on purpose.

You’re starting to hate Spencer Reid.

After Morgan knocks some sense into the camera man that had been spying on the pair, Elle is the one that gives you his camera and makes her way to Spencer first. You know exactly what should be on that film, but you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

That maybe if you didn’t look at it any closer, you wouldn’t see anything that could make you hate him more than you already do.

That he had been behaving and just being the good, perfect boy that Gideon and Hotch, and everyone else, seemed to rave on and on about.

But you didn’t even need a proper light to see just what was on it.

And you made sure he knew exactly what he had done.

“I– I fell in–”

“Doctor Spencer Reid!” Seeing you walking towards him with an anger he had never seen directed towards anyone before made him freeze where he stood. Cowering under your gaze.

“What in the fuck was going on inside you goddamn head, huh?” Elle had already left by then to talk to the camera guy with Morgan just a few feet away to leave you two to it. 

She knew what was going to happen, and she was going to let it. It needed to.

“It was an accident, I swear! She pulled me in and I—” He tried to reason, but you were having none out of it.

“And you what? Decided that then and there was the right place to eat her face off? Might I remind you that you are still on duty and this behavior is completely unacceptable!”

 If this had been you, this is exactly what you would’ve been lectured about.

But Spencer feels his brows knitting together and he shakes his head in confusion.

“You’re-- not jealous about me kissing Lila?”

“You think I’m what?!” 

You cannot believe the gall of this man. 

Cannot comprehend how oblivious he seems to the severity of the situation. 

And for what, because some hot blonde just happened to give him the slightest bit of attention? That since the rest of the team wasn’t around, he could go ahead and play house with some model and waste all his training on the field for nothing? 

You shake your head incredulously at the thought. 

“I don't know just what the hell is going on in that fuckass head of yours, Doctor, but that little bone-headed stunt that you just pulled? Could’ve cost you your life and hers.” 

Spencer tried to quell your anger. Tried to apologize, but you just kept going. Seemingly growing more and more frustrated at his feeble attempts.

 “I couldn’t give less of a shit who you do and don’t kiss in your spare time, Mr. 187. But let me remind you of something in case that brain of yours got all scrambled from exchanging extracellular fluids with Miss Archer,” 

No longer caring for his aversion for germs, because he certainly stopped caring about that earlier today, you brought your index and middle finger up to rest dead center on his forehead.

He closed his eyes and whimpered at your touch.

“You are still being pursued by a psychotic killer who is going around, shooting people in the head. We’re lucky that the guy in the bushes was just some sorry voyeur doing his goddamn job, but if it had been anyone else, you would’ve been fucking–!” 

Spencer feels the contact get ripped away from him suddenly, and he instinctively chases after it. 

The realization of how insane that must’ve been however, makes him open his eyes. 

He sees Morgan pulling you into his chest as he strides towards Lila’s house. He sees you struggle against the hold, but as his friend keeps shushing you and repeating your name from inside, you eventually calm down and relax. Disappearing into his form as Derek’s back now faces him and he can’t see you anymore.

The boy-genius feels his heart clench at the sight. A feeling not so dissimilar to what he felt when the blonde first started kissing him. 

He didn’t know what to do then. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but some small, sick part of him just wanted your attention on him so badly that he was willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

He had been waiting for so long–

But as he recalls how you were seething at him, how even though he had your eyes right where he wanted them to be, all he could feel was the heavy cloak of shame burdening him. Weighing on his form like the weight of his wet, pool bacteria-infected clothes.

And something tells him that no amount of bathing or scrubbing would ever rid him of it. 

He doesn’t even notice the rest of the team coming back to apprehend the trespasser until Elle picks up the roll of film that you had dropped when you were dragged away. Holding it out for him to take. 

He extends his hand out of instinct, but he crushes it soon after he recognizes what’s on it.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Is all that she says as she leaves him frozen there too. 

***

Meanwhile, you were still in Derek’s arms. Crying like some young little fragile thing and you hated it. 

You didn’t even know why you were crying anymore because even you knew that breaking a code of conduct was nothing to shed a few tears over.

“Come on, sweet girl, talk to me.” Morgan coos as he continues to hug you, which makes you sob all the harder. Embarrassed that an authority figure just saw you lose your shit on the job, so you shake your head no.

He’s probably going to tell Hotch and you’re going to get transferred out–

“We can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

But somehow those exact words had you spilling your heart out on to him. Doing so in such a frantic state as if this was a one-time opportunity that you were never going to be granted ever again.

So much so that all your insecurities came out of your mouth in word vomit.

How you tried so hard to do everything right. How you fought tooth and nail just to make it onto the team. 

How even though you were just as young as Reid, everyone else seemed to dote on him more. 

How everyone expected you to know just as much, if not more, than him so that he wouldn’t feel so out of place, and how every time that you didn’t, everyone only seemed to care because you had put him in danger.

How none of your efforts were ever noticed because they would either be overshadowed by Spencer’s, or brushed aside because it was not enough to make up for something that could’ve gotten him hurt.

And most of all, how bad you felt because none of it was his fault, and you knew you were being unfair to him.

And Morgan listened to all of it. Listening and occasionally apologizing when he knew that he had been guilty of one or two of those transgressions.

Patting your back and giving you all the comfort that he could before he knew you had to refocus on the case.

When you see Spencer again, his eyes remain low and you can’t bring yourself to apologize in that instant because you were still on duty and work had to be done.

No matter how sorry and how pathetic you felt, it had to wait.

What you don’t see is how his gaze lingers on his friend’s hand. Absent-mindedly moving up and down your arm in, what he understands to be, a protective manner. 

—————

He was being a distraction. A liability. To the case, or to Lila, or to you, you’re not sure anymore, but you needed him out. So you did exactly what you were hired at the BAU to do.

You’ve always thought the art piece on Lila’s wall was bizarre. And now that you’re looking at it again with a much clearer mind, you finally see why.

You had asked for everyone in the room to take the wall apart, after gaining Lila’s approval, and you all pieced together the final clue.

 A mural depicting the birth of the star that is now Lila Archer. 

After Spencer points out that the man in the mural was his ex-classmate, Parker Dunley, the team sees no further reason to question his involvement and makes the preparations to leave. 

Yet something is gnawing at you, telling you that this can’t be it. 

And at this point? No one is going to listen to a theory you have because nobody listens to you once Spencer says anything.

So you suggest the next best thing.

“Excuse me?” Your unit chief raises his eyebrows at your suggestion, but you can tell that it’s mostly a formality.

“Sir, with all due respect, it is in our best interest to relieve Dr. Reid of his position as Miss Archer’s bodyguard. He is now a potential target, and he knows Parker Dunley best among all of you. He would be most useful to the investigation if he joined the others.”

Spencer makes no attempt to contest, wanting nothing more than to just get this over with and talk to you when it’s all done, and Lila doesn’t say anything either. Just wanting the ‘traitor’ to leave her house and never come back.

Hotch senses this and sighs. He looks over to Gideon, who looks like he couldn’t care any less, and then back to you. 

“Alright then. You’re switching places with Reid. We’ll let you know if anything happens.”

He then discusses with the others that he’ll be joining JJ at the local PD while Morgan, Elle, Reid, and Gideon will be closing in on Dunley.

So that left you alone with Lila, which was going a lot easier than you had expected it to.

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. If I knew you were a thing, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to kiss him.”

She seemed so guilty as she said it and you just shook your head, but you noted the use of the term, “try.”

“Oh Miss Archer, please don’t apologize. He's not my boyfriend. I was just really upset that he could’ve gotten you hurt when he was supposed to be protecting you.” 

You move to stand a little closer to her, still keeping a fair amount of distance so you wouldn’t crowd her. 

"Besides, I think he's more into you than you think."

Under more normal circumstances, you supposed that they could work. Spencer most likely only hesitated because he was holding on to some semblance of professionalism he could maintain with the beautiful woman.

In another life, maybe this would've panned out differently.

“I saw the way he looked at you, you know?” Now that interests you and you tilt your head at her. 

“Like he hated me?” 

Her laugh was empty as she shook her head. “You’re just like him.” Is all she said.

But before you could ask any further, a call had interrupted you. 

You looked at the caller ID and saw that it was the very guy you were talking about. ‘Dr. Reid,’ it read.  The sight makes you sigh.

You know him well enough that he would never call you for work, and that this must have been for something personal. 

‘Stay professional,’ you told yourself, so you drop the call.

If it had really been important, someone else would call you.

As soon as you move to put your phone down however, it rang again. You checked it and fair enough, this time it was from Derek Morgan. 

You bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 

There’s shouting from his end that worries you, but you nod with a hum and end the call. 

You turned back to Lila and asked her very hurriedly if she knew anyone by that name, and her reaction tells you everything. 

You try to tell her that she’s the unsub and just while she’s still confused at your sudden change in demeanor, her phone rings. 

She shows you that it’s ‘Mags’, her friend, and you immediately try to calm her down and ask her to keep her friend on the phone. Expressing softly, but with great urgency, that it is imperative they keep her on the line.

Just as Lila answers, you immediately dial Garcia. “Oracle of Quantico, speak if you deign to hear the truth.”

“Miss Garcia, I need an emergency trace to a cell phone from Lila Archer’s phone.” 

You hear her gasp a little, reasonably concerned that you had been speaking so softly. A stark contrast to your usually strong and sure voice, but she steels her own and lets you know that she’s on it. 

You recite to her Lila’s phone number, having memorized it from her manager, and you instinctively look back at her to see her still pacing on the phone. 

You try to smile warmly, mentally patting her on the back for her efforts, and she nods back in response. Somewhat thankful for yours. 

As you wait, you suddenly remember Spencer’s phone call from earlier. Was this why he called?

Fuck, what if he wondered off and had been calling for backup but you just dropped the phone on him?

Maggie could be anywhere. It would be no surprise to you if she had actually gone back to find Dunley to eradicate any leads that could trace back to her. What if she was–

You’re quick to tune back into your own call however when you hear Penelope halt her typing and call out your name. 

“Is Lila’s address 6028 Pike Street?”

You don’t like where this is going. “Yeah.”

“She’s calling from inside the house.”  You sigh, in relief? In fear?

 “I’m sending you backup right now, please be safe, my love.” She says with a tremor in her voice and you drop the call immediately. Catching the attention of the blonde in front of you.

“Lila–” but then you hear a shout and a thud from another room and you shake your head. You didn’t need to ask how she got in the house because that wasn’t important anymore. 

The profile was. And the profile said that it was an erotomanic killer. 

You could work with that. 

—----

It didn’t take long for you to find Maggie. Well, you'd laugh if you could, because it was more like she found you. 

On the other end of her gun. 

With Lila in her arms.

There was no way that you could stall for however long it would take for the rest of your team to get here, so your best shot at surviving this was to talk her out of it.

“Maggie, put the gun down–”

“Don’t call me Maggie, you don’t know me.” She spit out, venom in her voice as she tried ushering Lila out with her.

“I know what it’s like.”

 You don’t know what the fuck you were saying, but you were panicking. It wasn’t your first time being held at gunpoint, it had happened so often that Hotch even claimed you were always begging for it.

But this was different. None of the right words were coming to you. 

You had to think of a way to deal with this, fast, and you didn’t know how to make it believable enough.

“No you don’t, little girl. Don’t pretend like you do.”

“But I do!” You put your gun down in a panic and held your hands up in surrender.

“I know what it’s like to l-” your mouth went dry. “To love someone– someone that doesn’t love you back.” 

You seriously don’t know what the fuck you’re saying. 

Maggie laughs at what you say though.

“Well it sucks to be you, but my baby loves me. Isn’t that right?” She makes a show of tucking Lila’s hair behind her ear, but even through her fear, she denies her friend. 

“I don’t, Mags.” Maggie’s jaw tightens at that.

“Yes you do, I know you do– Don’t act like you don’t, you stupid, ungrateful–” you cut her off. 

“She doesn’t, Miss Lowe. And I know you know that.” She shakes her head, but still keeps her gun on Lila.

You push a little harder. “I know because I know what it’s like to love someone. To meet your match.” You approach her just a little.

She shifts the gun to you now, but you continue to push. 

“I know what it feels like to get tunnel vision. Where nothing matters, not even yourself, as long as it makes her happy. Keeps her safe. ” 

You look her in the eye, and you can tell that it’s not enough. You need to switch gears, but you can’t think of anything else to do.

“And– And I know what it’s like–to feel everything so strongly—so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening until it just is.”

You realize it now. It was all you

It was never about the teasing of your teammates, never about the expectation that Hotch or Gideon had.  

You never hated Spencer. You just wanted to belong. You just wanted to be treated like how he was. 

The realization makes your eyes water.

You didn’t even notice it, but as more and more words fall free from your mouth, all you can think about is him.

 About how you’re sorry. About how you never meant to hurt him. About how he doesn’t deserve your frustrations and that everything you did was just for him.

About how you could never hate anyone as loveable as him. 

You shake the thought away. Hands still up high.

Maggie’s eyes narrow, her finger twitching on the trigger. “You think you can understand me, huh? Talk your way out?”

You shake your head. “No, but I think I can reach you,” 

You take a step forward.

“I thought I hated him, Maggie. I thought he was doing it all on purpose. Kept thinking, ‘we were so similar.’ So why was it that being smart was special, and made everyone treasure him, but not me? And I think, maybe–”

You take another.  

“Maybe I was just scared. Scared that I wasn’t good enough. That I would always be overshadowed.”

Maggie’s grip on the gun tightens. “So what? You think that makes us the same?”

“No,” you say softly, taking another careful step forward.

 “But I do think that you’re the type of person that’s willing to do anything, no matter how desperate, to be seen.”

Maggie’s expression wavers, but the gun remains steady. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” you insist. “I know that hurting Lila won’t fill that void. It won’t give you what you’re looking for.”

Maggie’s hand trembles. “I would never hurt her--”

“Yes, you will. You will because you’re a danger to her, but that can change. You don’t have to hurt anyone anymore.”

Maggie’s face contorted with rage. 

“Shut up! You don’t know anything!”

When Maggie goes to shoot at you, you tackle the gun out of her hand. Wrestling her to the ground as you did.

 You look behind you and tell Lila to hurry and grab your gun from off the floor and leave, and she does just that.

 Not even sparing you, nor her ‘friend,’ a glance as she makes her escape to where you hope your team now was.

From outside, the team sees Lila holding a gun like a bomb in her hands, and running into the arms of Spencer Reid. The others that were still in their car quickly try to get out. To understand the situation, but then a single gunshot is heard from inside the house.

The rest of the team rushes in. 

Due to the results of my poll, there will be a part two! One where it's all from Spencer's point of view + the aftermath of this case lol

Please let me know what you think of this one though!! Or any ideas you might want to see in the second part, or literally anything at all--

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[sanguineterrain]

Femjay you say 👀 how about the classic "you're alive?!" confrontation with a sprinkle of pining

sprinkle of pining you say-oh dear! i've dumped the whole bag in! along with a jar of erotic violence! whoopsies...

female!jason todd x afab!reader. violence, angy jay, reader being held down, crying, reunion. remember that girl best friend you had highkey lesbian tension with? yeah.

****

It's her eyes you recognize first, oddly enough, through her cracked helmet. You shouldn't recognize her at all, with how everything about her has changed. Even the way she looks at you is different. You've never seen Jay Todd so ferocious.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" she screams.

It's true, you weren't. You stumbled across your dead best friend by accident, found her hissing and vicious with a shattered helmet and a smoking gun. Four dead men surround her.

"Get out."

All you can do is stare. She's alive. She's back. She's yours.

"Jay..."

Okay, you lied. This wasn't an accident. This was fate that you played a hand in. This was what was bound to happen after Jay got too close, let herself get seen. You've had an itch for months, eyes on your back. You're a civilian now, sure, but you loved a bat once.

She pries off her helmet and your breath hitches. God, she's beautiful.

"What is wrong with you? You could've fuckin' gotten shot."

Your legs start moving. Your arms part. You expect the feel of a soft cape between your fingers, black curls to tickle your chin due to a height difference you never let her forget.

Jay drops her gun, grabs your wrists, and knocks the wind out of you in a graceful takedown. You can't even be mad.

"You're alive," you choke out.

When she was Robin, you had a slim chance of physically overtaking her. Now, double in size and muscle, Jay keeps you pushed to the ground with no chance of getting free. Her hands hold you by your wrists, body hovering close so you can't move much.

Her eyes are wild. A mix of blue and green. More green than you remember. Her irises have swallowed her pupils and her curls are knotted and frizzy. You feel inexplicably hunted.

"How dare you?" she spits. "How fuckin' dare you come here?"

"Jay," you say softly, unable to keep your eyes fixed on one part of her. You're afraid to blink and make her disappear.

"I could've shot you," she says. "You could be dead right now."

"You're a good shot."

You mean it as a compliment. Jay only seems to get angrier.

"I have to be. I'm the only one keeping myself alive," she says. You make a weak noise in your throat.

"I should've looked for you," you say.

She scoffs. "Don't say stupid shit. You're smarter than that."

"I should've," you insist. "I should've found you. I felt you."

"Yeah? Feel how I could tear you apart? It comes so easy now, you have no idea. 'M fuckin' soaked with blood."

You stay silent. Jay's eyes flash. She leans in, breath hot on your ear.

"Are you scared?" she asks like she knows the answer.

But she doesn't.

Your legs part further so she can kneel comfortably. You shake your head.

Jay snarls. "You should be. I've killed people. I'll keep killing."

"It's okay," you say. "You're angry. It's okay to be angry. I don't blame you. No one does."

"Stop talking like that!" she yells, tears in her eyes. "Stop talking like we're friends. We aren't friends. You don't know me!"

"But I do," you say, limp beneath her, like a lamb caught in a wolf's bite. "Jay, I do."

"No, you don't," she snaps. Her voice is mocking, brittle. "You know your fancy publishing job in a big shiny office, away from this shithole, and-and fuckin' Paul from Marketing who brings you banana pancakes from the diner."

Your breath comes out in a careful exhale. "You've been keeping tabs on me. How long have you been back?"

Jay's mouth quivers as she bares her teeth. "I took you to that diner. It was mine first."

"It never stopped being yours," you say quietly.

"You—" Jay growls in frustration. Her hands squeeze your wrists. "This isn't how it's s'posed to go. Hate me, hate me. I'm a monster."

"You're not."

"You're fuckin' deluded," she says, eyes glassy with tears. "Fuckin'—sleep so heavy, like I can't slip in and smother you. No one would know. Make tea in your-your robe, don't even pull the curtains shut. I can see you. Anyone can."

"I missed you, Jay," you say, a heart-shaped lump in your throat.

"And so what?" she asks, tears falling down her cheeks. "So fuckin' what if you missed me? You kept living."

You try to pull your hand free, and to your surprise, you do. Jay lets you slip out of her grip. You use your free hand to hold her scarred cheek, wipe her tears with your thumb.

Jay is perfectly still for several moments. Then she wraps two big hands around your ribs, pulls your shoulders forward like nothing, and rests her cheek on your chest. She shakes into your skin, kneeling between your legs.

You hug her head, smell her new-old smell, and let her curls tickle your chin once again.

[tonixe]

"Only for you"

n.o.t.e.s - BRO, HE IS SO FINE, also altered timeline not cannon to the movie.

w.a.r.n -📓 Nsfw, dub-con, penetration, p in the v, fingering, bathroom sex, and protected sex.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - 🔪 Jason Dean x Fem!reader

w.c. - 🎬1.7k

Y/N..

The savior of the Westerburg

You were the rival girl of Heathers, especially Heather Chandler. You were prettier, smarter and better dressed her not to mention the better attitude

It was a slap on the face for Heather, you shared 2 classes, and every time you walked past her, you can see her turn red just like her ribbon. You held your tray with whatever they served at lunch, the lunch ladies were nice to you, due to your good attitude and smile. You manage to get something much better than the school served.

Walking by Heather's table, where they sat near the jocks as they start catcalling you. You walked to the back of the cafeteria, where Martha's 'dump truck' was sitting, you did get some eyes from the whole cafeteria.

"Can I sit here?" you asked as you flashed her your signature smile.

The cafeteria went silent, as you heard whispering. Martha was shocked by what you said, she looked around to see if you were playing a cruel joke on her.

"No jokes, just friendship" You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cocking your head to the side.

"U-um, s-sure!" she said quietly.

You sat down, and as you started eating your lunch, "Why sit in the back of the cafeteria, you don't get to see the action" you said, looking up from your tray.

"Nobody likes me, so I just resort here" she muttered. "I get it" you responded, biting into the sandwich.

You looked up, trying to find something amusing to take about with your new acquaintance, your eyes landing on a black-haired guy, sitting conveniently in the back as well. Wearing a trench coat over his clothes oddly enough.

As you brushed your fingers together on your tray, get rid of the crumbs off your fingers. "So who's the hot kid there" You pointed at him, winking at him too.

He waved to you.

"That's Jason Dean, he's been here for 5 months, not much new" she responded as ate her lunch.

"Gosh, how was I ignoring a hottie," you said

"He used to date, Veronica Sawyer" she piqued, "Oh really, I guess he's single right now," you declared, you got up from your chair leaving your lunch behind, walking towards the suspicious hottie.

"I guess you're the infamous Jason Dean" You place your hand on the table, cocking your body to the side.

"-And what do I owe you, wonder girl" he responded with a smile.

"More than what you think, if I could join you in what you doing," you asked him, butterflies were swimming in your stomach, you never really had this moment before even with the jocks that try to pin you to your locker.

"I should have brought you a throne" he teased, he combs his hair back with his fingers.

You laughed at the comment, putting your face in and your palms. Dipping your head towards Jason. "Are you single currently?" you whispered, you glanced back to see the Heathers and Veronica looking at you and JD.

"No, not currently you asking?" he responded, his eyes checking you out.

"Yea, how about a little date at Kekes" you proposed, "A cutie like you, should already have a girlfriend and maybe have a chance with getting laid with me" you whispered, a Cheshire cat smile spreading on your lips.

"Oh, who knew wonder girl was so dirty" he gave you a smirk. "Truly, I am" You fluttered your lashes at him.

"Never knew," he whispered.

"So..what you have next period, Jason"?" you prompt, your head on your palm, pointing at him with your manicured nail.

"Math, how about you" he leaned back to the wall, he brushed his hair back, crossing his arm with a playful look.

"Same, maybe we're in the same class" you chirped.

The bell ranged, motioning for the next period.

"Welp, hopefully, you can come to our date," you took some paper and wrote your number down on it, passing it to him.

"See you later" You gave him a wave, walking out of the cafeteria for your next class; you purposely swayed your hips when you were walking out, wanting him to look at your ass.

You were leaning to the side of the diner, blowing puffs from your cigarette. Placing the cigarette between your lips. Crossing your arms as your leg supports your balance.

You weren't surprised to see Jason or JD walking up to the diner; you blew the smoke out from your lips. Leaning off the wall, finishing off your cigarette.

Walking towards him, "I guess you really did take the bait" You flashed him a smile. "I mean, how could I not with the wonder women of our school," he answered, putting his hand on his chin, cocking his head to you.

"Especially with the offer," he said as he walked into the diner; you followed, "I said you had a chance," you asserted. "Besides, you're cute," you murmured.

"I'm what?" he teased, holding the door.

"Just buy me a coke, jackass" You walked inside the diner. "Yes, princess," he walked into the diner.

After you guys get situated at your table, you want to make this date last forever in his mind; maybe he was one of those guys that got obsessive. A waitress passed by as you looked at the menu, rubbing your foot over his leg up to his thigh. You shot him a sly smile, "I'll get a rusty burger with fries" you said, giving her a grin.

"I'll just get a Diet Coke" he answered, looking straight out at you, as you rubbed your foot closer to his groin. "Your not hungry?" you piqued, biting your lip.

"Nope," he answered; he popped the p. "Why not" You rubbed his leg more, looking through your eyelashes, fluttering your eyes. "Just not hungry when you here," he winked at you.

"You're a sly dog, you know that." you blinked, prompting your hand on your palm.

"Wanna do something fun, Y/N?" he gave you a smug grin at you, "What do you mean?" his idea peeped your interest, "Something that sped up the process, why sit here and wait when he can do something fun" he grins.

He got up from his seat, grabbing your hand from the booth as you followed him to the bathroom. "What are you doing" you questioned, "Something fun" he opened the door, pulling you inside.

Before he pinned you to one of the stalls' doors, " You're really that needy," you bit your lip. "After pulling that stunt with me under the table," he panted, his forehead bumping into yours.

You felt his boner on your pelvis and his breath on your cheek, making you feel yourself becoming wet. You hated how he made you aroused, it was supposed to game for you to win, but he was slowly winning you over. You felt him grabbing your chin, "Don't get shy on me now, wonder girl," he snapped at you; he snuck his fingers down to your thigh, dangerously under your skirt.

His hand inches away from your panties, and you felt your breathing becoming heavier by the second. "Wanna live up to what you said earlier" he whispered in your ear, slowly sliding his fingers into your cunt.

Your pants becoming heavier, feeling his finger pumping into you. "Eager aren't you" he whispered.

Moans escaped your lips as you felt your nipples becoming hard in your bra. "Gosh, I would never know someone like you would enjoy this" he pumped his fingers into you faster, plunging them.

You clasp your hands to your mouth, hiding your moans. "Don't be like that; I wanna hear you; I want this whole fucking diner to hear you," he whispered, thrusting his finger into you.

"Haah-" you moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy, "God, your pussy is tightening around my fingers." he mocked, taking his fingers out of you.

He licked his finger in front of your red face, you panted "Why" you muttered throwing your head to the side pissed off.

"So I can enjoy you all to myself," you turned your head back, seeing him holding up a condom. "Your seriously going to fuck me in a bathroom," you muttered, your cheeks stained red.

"Yea," he responded; you heard him unzipping his pants, you glanced to see his dick, and you were shocked at how big it was, making you wetter by the second.

"Turn around," he demanded

You obeyed, turning around and placing your hands on the stall as you felt him lining into your wetness. Your nipples were hardened against your bra, moaning against the friction.

You were startled as you felt him thrust into you; it was painful, tears building up on your lash line, biting your lip. His dick was splitting, you open, and you enjoyed every minute.

Thrusting inside you, feeling him in places you didn't even know existed. "Haah," you moaned, and you arched your back. You felt his hand on your chest, pulling up your shirt and bra in one motion.

His rough hands groped your chest, playing with your sensitive nipples. "F-fuck...Jason," you groaned out. He grabbed your jaw, forcing you into a heavy kiss.

His tongue dances with yours, exploring your mouth. You withdraw from the kiss for oxygen as you pant out. His thrust getting sloppier inside. "We should make quick" He lifted you by your waist, his dick still inside you, "Jason wait-" You were cut off by his dick going into you farther; you moaned loudly.

"J-Jason, im close," you panted, "God, me too" he thrust into you a few more times before you cummed on his dick; he thrust into you a few times from spilling into the condom. Some of the cum in the condom dripped onto the floor, and he placed you on the stall wall. You panted out; your face was still red.

You glanced back at Jason, zipping himself up and throwing out the condom. "Fuck you," you muttered, juices dripping down your leg.

"Your moans said the opposite," he whispered; he put your panties into his trench coat pocket.

You were too tired to argue, and sweat was glistening on your body. "I'll be outside, waiting, wonder girl" he slapped your ass, leaving you in the bathroom.

"Bastard," you muttered, dropping onto the bathroom floor, your legs giving up.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

In modern cowboy jason / sw!reader we trust🙏. Can we see more of them pretty please 🥰🥺 (hope you're doing good )

"Scarlet around?" Jason asked leaning on the hostess stand.

The girl- and she was a girl. Hardly 18 if he had to guess, looked up at him and smiled. Her smile was trembling. "She's supposed to be. No one's seen her in a couple days but Dino swears he heard from her last night."

"Thanks, sugar," Jason said frowning. This was a problem. A big problem. He didn't know much about you but he did know you had bills to pay. And that you were smarter than people thought you were. You saw shit. You knew shit. And now, not three days after he talked to you, you were missing.

Or at least not at work. Which was problematic. Because how the fuck else was he supposed to find you. Or- jesus christ. What if- He didn't want to think about that. About your crime scene photos. They were bad enough when it was young women he didn't know.

He pulled out his phone and punched buttons as he shouldered the door open, "Bruce, Scarlet hasn't been at the club in two days. We better get looking."

"Jason-"

"I have a couple ideas where to start," he said, "Places where it would cost some fucking coin for her to live."

[fcthots]

Hi! I m glad to see your inbox open again, last week I started having a Jason Todd brainrot (thanks to Pinterest for this) and when I type Jason Todd x reader on Tumblr your blog was one of the first ones I found (and the one whose most fics I spent the weekend reading 😅). Thank you so much for feeding my hiperfixation, you are talented and portrait Jason amazingly on your fics.

So now that your request are open, could you do a Jason x fem!reader with the prompt "Here! Take my jacket/coat". I love leather jackets and I would love to try Jackson's 😍

Btw, I am planning on showing on your inbox every once on a while. Could I ask for an anon emoji too, pretty please 🫶🏼?

Hey anon, good to have you

dealer's choice for emoji? bc then ur getting 🪽bc I think its cool

You swear you're gonna freeze to death. You and Jason ditched the gala not even 45 minutes after getting there. You booked it outside and argued on where you should sit like a married couple. The argument slowly derailed from there.

You tuck your arms closer around yourself. Your dress didn't exactly have a lot of fabric to keep you warm. "I realize now is a bad time to mention this, but I'm cold."

Jason looks at you like a cat that is thinking about how it's smarter than you. "I told you to bring a jacket."

"What jacket would match a gown, Jason? Huh? None! None is the correct answer!" You whisper shout, but your words have no real heat to them.

He crosses his arms. "Well maybe you shouldn't have worn such a skimpy dress!" You can see he's fighting off a smile from his own sarcasm.

"YOU PICKED OUT THE FUCKING DRESS!" You play along, but your voice trails off in a laugh.

He laughs when you laugh. "UGH. Fine. I guess you can have my jacket." He says it with faux annoyance and he's altogether stopped trying to suppress his smile.

After he dramatically shrugs off his jacket, he helps to slip it onto your shoulders, unable to suppress being a gentleman even for your fake fight.

Once it's snug on you, he takes a step back, eyes trailing over your form, looking at the dress he chose for you in his color (you lost a bet, but the dress was actually very nice and looked very good on you) and his jacket slipped over your shoulders.

After staring into your soul for a full minute, he finally opens his mouth. "New plan." You quirk an eyebrow before he continues. "We make a run for the manor and you take all of your clothes off."

You blink for a moment, processing his unexpected words. You nod. "Good plan. Slight issue: I am in heels."

"Princesses get carried. Let's go."

[zer0wzs]

𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙡

wherein jason becomes the rockstar's gf jason todd x gn!rockstar!reader wc: 1432

AN :: there is an mcr and a fob reference here and both keep staring at me like a sore thumb

For a split second, your mind wanders off. Suddenly, you’re thinking about how you didn’t have a clue as to how Jason puts up with you.

Between the late-night practices and you cooping yourself in the studio all day, You feel like you don’t give him enough of your time. Somehow, though, he pushes through, and he makes it work. He meets you halfway. He said he wouldn’t trade you and your dreams for the world. 

He’s funny. You love him.

Your mind snaps back to where you once were—on the stage. You feel a ringing in your head as you feel heat radiating off your body. The colorful lights blind you. Your shoulders hurt like hell from the weight of the guitar, and you feel winded as your lack of breath control and the previous song had knocked all the air out of you.

Despite all your qualms, though, you love doing this. The adrenaline courses through your blood and comes a rush you find for almost every night. 

“Alright! You guys having fun so far?” The crowd cheers, buzzing with energy and alcohol in their veins. 

You skim over through the faces in front of you. Some are ones you’ve seen before. They tend to attend your sets regularly, but many, though, were faces you didn’t recognize. 

Most of all, however, you see Jason with a friend by his side, quickly catching your brief gaze on him. He stands right beside the platform of the tiny performing venue. He gives you a nod with a straight face. 

You feel a surge of excitement just from his gaze on you, and you feel that energy course through your blood.

“Keep that energy up! We’re not finished just yet!” 

As your bandmates adjust their effects, retune their instruments, and do one last mixing of sound for your closer, you regain your sense of clarity amongst the smell of booze that lingers throughout the venue. You shortly shot Jason a smile and a nod before readjusting your mic and redirecting your focus to the crowd.

“Now, before we sign off, I wanna thank you all for seeing us tonight. I really hope you guys enjoyed our set.” The crowd quiets down, almost dead. You take it as a sign to get it going again. “But come on now—let’s get this on!”

You breathe in once, breathe once out. It’s the first time you’re debuting this song. You rehearsed for this, but you doubt it's enough. You're scared you’ll blank out in the middle of the song, then fill it with random riffs. You’re scared you’ll sing the demo version and forget your final. You’re scared you might just not do the song any justice.

It’s the final song of the final night of your tour. You were not in the mood to mess this up.

Yet you pause for a moment. How much more in love could you be? Because suddenly, your thoughts are filled with him to calm yourself.

You catch him in the corner of your eyes once more, and you faintly hear a ‘Woo!’ from his direction.

Hell, this final song is about him.

He’s heard it, but he has no idea that you’re playing it tonight.

“Do you want to live forever?” You ask the crowd as the instruments start to set themselves up. “Sing this with me then.”

The song gradually swells, with the drums and bass starting out the song, looping the intro for a few rounds before the guitars join in. You harmonize with the main melody of the song, making up riffs as you go.

You feel yourself building the song, getting into the zone, and even doing a call and response because why the hell not? 

Before you let the performance take over, you quickly slip in a “This one’s for him. Hi, Jay.” You look in his direction and wave.

He’s awestruck, enchanted.

You see him quickly follow your gaze and smile. You seem to have caught him off-guard. You’re sure he’s picked up on the instruments and the vocals. He’s smart, far smarter than you. You’re sure he knows what you’re about to play.

The song ends as fast as it starts. You forget that sometimes when you perform on stage, it’s like you’re on autopilot. This was precisely that, but in the best way possible. You feel your body carry the work while your mind can sit back and watch the scene. For a split second, you even ran closer to the crowd during the final break to hold them, grab on your arm.

Everything had passed by so quickly that you couldn’t even register that it was over. Not until the crowd began to mellow down, but not without an applause.

“Thank you all so much!” You smiled and waved goodbye before your roadies rushed to the stage to gather your equipment.

You look over to the side to find Jason. He’s gone, but that’s more than alright. You figured he rushed to help with fixing the equipment, seeing his size and all. It’s something he often does when he watches your shows.

You feel your throat run dry. Maybe it’s time to steep some tea.

You high-five your bandmates before exiting the stage.

—

You didn’t quite grapple with the reality of just how exhausted and thirsty you were until you stepped off the stage. The world felt more than just shaky, so you found yourself leaning over some table in the back, chugging as much water as you could. The tea can wait.

You could faintly hear your bandmates hyping each other up and giving each other even more high fives. You stood by the sidelines, watching them and laughing at their antics. God knew you were too drained to even think about joining them.

Still, by the corner of your eye, you see a tall figure standing next to you. 

You’re always more than happy to talk to him.

“Well, hi, you.” You greeted, happy to see him.

In great contrast to your bubbly self, your boyfriend was more… frozen. He was silent, just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched you play live, so you figured that the debut of the song was what made him so giddy at this moment.

As he stood there before you, you saw him in better lighting for the first time tonight after your show. You saw the sweat perspiring from his forehead to his neck and the sweat collected on his shirt. You basked in the light that framed his face from the side, but it accentuated those bright eyes of his. You take note of that smile that he’d been wearing even before your show. It only seemed to grow bigger as the night passed by. 

Fuck, he really is beautiful. You think you may not ever get enough of him.

Finally, after a few moments of radio silence, he spoke. “Shit, babe.”

“Uhuuuh?” You found yourself giggling at him.

He’s really cute. You’re in love with him.

“You guys were amazing. I can’t believe my partner is a rockstar.” Practically stars in his eyes.

“Why, thank you.” You felt yourself warming up to the hand that finds your cheek.

“You also played the song!” The hand holding your head up gently tenses with his excitement. You can’t help but laugh at him.

“Yes, we did.”

“Your closer’s always Saturday. Why’d you guys change it?”

That’s for many reasons. For one, you wanted this final night to be special. It was the last date of your best-selling tour yet. You had to do something else.

Then again, you could’ve chosen any other song that hasn’t or even rarely gets played live.

“Well, it’s not always you watch my shows—with your whole thing and our usual tour dates and locations—so I really wanted to do something special.” You hummed, leaning further into his touch. ”It’s almost your birthday anyway.”

“My birthday is still in, like, three months.” 

You shrug. “It’s never too early to celebrate.”

“That’s the length of an entire season, quierde. I think it’s still early.”

“That means there’s only more gifts to come, yeah?” He half-heartedly murmurs something in agreement. 

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Love?” You called.

“Hmmm?”

You got on your tiptoes, balancing your weight on his shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, yet as you set yourself down, you felt him sweep you off your feet to return the kiss.

Your tea can wait a little longer.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Batfam assumptions that annoy me

Pervert Jason.He roasts and complains about romance and sex norms as a consistent character trait,he's a virgin at 23 still and there's not really any gags displaying him as perverted like with most male superheroes.Jason's not 'female-coded',Jason is ASPEC-coded.Also this is an opinion and not an assumption but the oversexualization of him is disgusting and creepy.'He's a grown man???'Yeah,a grown man with severe trauma and intimacy issues and y'all like sexualizing both of those with ableist stereotypes applied to him.Also he had no friends his age in all his mid-teenage years and the start of his young adult years,can you be serious rn,WHO would he even be fucking

Preppy/'Basic white girl' Stephanie.Ever since her debut,she's been characterized as a spunky punk girl who dosen't fit in with others her age due how 'weird' and 'intense' she is and with brutalist tendencies and a short temper and offputting tastes/hobbies/mannerisms to actual pick me girls and normie dudes.She's also not proud of being blonde nor is she busty-She got her hair color from her abusive dad and she's so flatchested she passed as a guy as Spoiler and Damian makes fun of her for her small chest as Batgirl too.Fake blonde Stephanie is fake,she'd never dye her hair anything but unnatural colors like pink or purple

'Honorary' Batkid Duke.Okay this one really gets on my nerves because even people who read comics believe it and as a black autistic woman with a special interest in DC,i can tell you for a fact they're just being antiblack since if Duke's not a Batkid since DC retconned it,neither is Cass.Duke was a Bat MC and a Core Batkid for more years than DC has tried to convince us he hasn't and oh yeah,is the only reason Jason rejoined the Batfam and the only other Batkid he liked and clicked with on first meeting.'Tim joins the Batfam early aus' and 'Jason and Damian meet at the Loa aus' can bite me-Y'all're just stealing Duke's thunder for your nonblack faves like this is Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief or some shi'💀'The Batkid requirement is black hair and blue eyes' is also not a thing and it's never been joked about or established in-canon or by official sources.The Batkid requirements are black hair and autism and that can even include Stephanie(< headcanons Steph as a darkskin fat blasian girl)

Dick's type is redheads.Dick's dated more black women than he has redheads and that includes Babs(has multiple black incarnations),who's only a Dick love interest out of retcons and ableist and misogynistic erasure to keep her Batgirl i.e reduced down to a Batboy's girlfriend instead of her own character she's been since Oracle came to be.Dick also dated Bea Bennet and Helena Bertinelli but notably only her incarnation where she's black/white mixed so it's canon his type is black women,NOT redheads,and D*ckwally has zero chemistry and only exists in a version that robbed both of them of their characters(YJ animated).It's also not comparable to what him and Roy have and not just because the third to their trio is Donna,NOT Wally.If you're gonna complain about the lack of good female superheroes,maybe actually engage with them too......Or bother to know they exist

Tim is smarter than other Batfam members and Cass is feminine.Minors irks so they get shared parts but they frequently dive into classism and anti-easian racism so i'll adress them:Jason's not a dumbass,neither is Stephanie,neither is Duke and neither is Dick(!!!!)and Damian isn't a feral gremlin(he's just a cute lil brown boy and you're just racist !!)and Tim IS a genius but so is everybody else and the standout example amongst the Batkids is Babs,with her Oracle work being essentially what the fandom thinks of Tim as and Cass is VERY notably uncomfortable in femininity and especially white western femininity as is often given to her in Batfanon,as seen in her first solo Batgirl 2000 when she tries out teenage girl things to try to heal from her trauma and she's also pretty heavily implied to be goth so goth butch/gnc in the goth way Cass is pretty much canon

Batcest is a part of Batfam history.It's true gay elders back in the earlier days of Batman comics interpreted Batman and Robin as a gay metaphor but that's a show of pedophile culture,not a comics fact.Nobody who actually wrote for Batman actually said this and they're not responsible for assumptions by old time-y kiddy fuckers-Dick is refered to as Bruce's ward from the get-go and ward is just another word for 'adoptive child' and they also adress eachother as brothers fairly often.Batman and Robin historically means 'Adoptive Father and Son crime fighting duo' and it's shown in the parodies that spawend from them in legit superhero media,where the Batman and Robin duo archetypes always grow to have a father and son/age gap brothers bond(Miles and Peter B in Spiderverse,Henry and Ray in Henry Danger and many other such cases).Devin Grayson dosen't count either,as she apologized for writing Batcest and said it was a bad coping mechanism on her part that did too much harm to ever be good and it's not 'hypocritical' to ship Timsteph or Stephcass while saying you're anti Batcest because Stephanie has never seen Bruce as her dad nor has Bruce ever seen Stephanie as his daughter,much less legally adopted her(or been her bioparent in the case of Damian)like he did/has the other Batkids

[association-of-ideas]

More Batfam as Things My Family Has Said/Done:

Tim: God is a redneck with a shotgun pointed at a fridge and we're all just pieces of broken fridge floating through space.

—

Dick, holding Damian under his armpits and gently swaying him sideways: Jiggle jiggle jiggle.

—

Damian: God has chosen a new favorite: me!

Also Damian: I am the Superior Child!

—

Steph, about Tim: You're the grossest rat in the sewers. You and your little rat hands.

—

Young Dick: We're all going to die at the ghetto Robinson Park.

Bruce: There's only one Robinson Park.

Young Dick: Okay? But am I wrong?

—

Alfred: May I ask what you're doing?

Jason, trying to remember what the English word for 'sweeping' is: I'm brooming.

—

Tim, bursting into Duke's room like a madman: Okay! So I found out the movie's not called Type 2 Diabetes! It's called Dementia!

Duke, just trying to finish his homework: O-kay?

—

Dick: He keeps bragging about how smarter he is than me—!

Barbara: How "smarter"?

—

Damian, laying on the floor: I wish I could take out my spine and straighten it like the straws that come with juice boxes. I feel like that'd fix a lot of my problems.

Dick, grimacing: Please stop.

—

Jason: I'm gonna punch him in his bitch ass chin!

—

Bruce, trying to say 'biscuits and gravy': B-beef. Beef.

Tim: Yes?

Bruce: Beef. Beef! BEEF! Fuck! Biscuits and gravy! Do you want any?!

Tim, wheezing: H-yes!

—

Dick: We're getting take-out. B wants to know what you want.

Tim: Okay, but we can't go to Chick-fil-A. I'm not allowed there.

Dick: What? Why not?

Tim: Because they're homophobic, Dick!

—

Tim: Bruce in Bath & Bodyworks is the grown-up equivalent of a kid in a candy store.

Bruce, carrying a full basket: Shh. That's none of your concern.

Tim: It's not a concern, it's a fact.

—

Steph, pointing at a billboard: Jay, look! Phentynal!

Jason, through gritted teeth from across the restaurant table: Don't do that! The people here don't understand that joke.

—

Dick: B said I better be getting a cut if your friend's selling pictures of my feet on FootFinder.

Jason: Fine.

—

Cass: Hello.

Bruce, who thought he was alone, walking back in from the garden at night: whAH—!

Cass, back turned, outlined only by the porch light, and standing on top of a bench like an eldritch scarecrow in the distance: ?

—

Dick: *blinks and falls down the stairs*

Barbara: Oh my God, are you okay?! What happened?!

Dick, dazed and probably concussed: Did I just teleport?

[wondersinwaynemanor]

they really think Damian and Lian were just in Damian's room to color and draw and play with Titus whenever they visit the Manor, but no. i mean sure, yes, at first it was like that.

not until Lian said, "Daddy, JayJay, Dami is helping me to be cool." and then she tried to kick the air, and she extended her arm as if to punch the air.

Roy and Jason exchanged looks.

at the Manor the next weekend, Jason pulls Damian outside his own room and leave Lian to color on the bed.

Damian, crosses his arms: You better not be wasting my time, Todd and Harper. What is this about?

Roy: Damian, what have you been teaching Lian?

Damian:

Jason: Don't give us that look, Brat. It doesn't work on me.

Damian, rolls his eyes: Tt. Nothing too complicated. Plus, she's meant to be trained to protect herself. When will you begin with the basics? When she's in the face of danger? I thought you imbeciles were knowledgeable.

Roy: We will be there to protect her. And we will choose when and how.

Jason: And in case you forgot, Brat, she's still six.

Damian, unimpressed: Oh, please. I was slowly introduced to weapons at her age. And look how skilled I came to be.

Jason, snorts: You mean skilled at being a brat?

Damian: You're a whole nuisance, Todd.

Lian, interrupts their conversation, running to where they are outside the room and shows the drawing she made to the three of them: Look, Daddy, JayJay and Dami, I drew myself as Robin.

Dick, who just pops out of nowhere behind them: Aww. As the first Robin, I say you would look so badass, Pumpkin.

Roy, whispers: Dick, don't encourage her.

Jason starts to push Dick, but that just gives Dick the chance to grab his arm and pull him for a bear hug. Jason wiggles his way out of it.

Roy, smiles and touches one of Lian's pigtails: What a beautiful drawing, Princess.

Jason, smiles softly at her: Good job, Princess.

Lian beams at them before going back inside the room.

Damian: At least she didn't draw herself as the Red Hood with that hideous helmet. She's even smarter than you, Todd.

Jason: Oh, you little sh-

Jason starts to charge for his little brother, but thankfully, Roy and Dick hold him back. Damian gives a light smirk, which reminds them of Bruce's, and follows Lian back inside the room.

Later that day

Jason: I hate to agree to the demon brat, but he's right. We have to teach her some basics at least.

Roy: Let's take one step at a time, kay, Jaybird? She just learned additions and subtractions.

Jason: When the time is right, of course. But for now-

Roy: - we will make sure that your brother doesn't teach anything too-

Jason: - demonic or bratty. I'll make sure of it.

Roy just rolls his eyes fondly at his boyfriend.

[gffa]

LMAO Jason's emotional whiplash in this scene is amazing, he goes from "lol fuck what Bruce says I do what I want, we do what we want" to "what did Damian say about my hair??" to "DICK YOU'RE STILL THE NICE ONE REASSURE ME BECAUSE I NEED THAT UNDERNEATH EVERYTHING ELSE" All while Dick is busy introducing Duke to the ways of Being Batman's Sidekick: "Rule #1. Wear bright colors." Duke totally has that covered! "Rule #2. Fuck what Batman says is a core defining trait." Duke is out of there, HE IS SMARTER THAN THAT. DUKE THOMAS DOES NOT DESERVE TO PUT UP WITH THESE INSANE PEOPLE, GIVE HIM A MEDAL FOR HAVING THE SOLITARY BRAIN CELL IN THIS GROUP