#maybe i could do a side by side of the brothers

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[atqh16]

This scene hurts so bad because as much as I'm frustrated with Jiang Cheng for telling Wei Ying to abandon the Wens (because its such a morally bankrupt suggestion), I do understand that Jiang Cheng desperately wants to protect his brother. His anger, harsh words, and ultimatum are selfish, yes, but it's because they come from a desperate man clinging to one of the two family members he has left by the skin of his teeth. He has been stripped raw from what happened to his parents and clan, and it has given him tunnel vision so he could focus his efforts on keeping what little he has left safe.

But similar to Lan Zhan's request of "come back to gusu with me," Jiang Cheng doesn't realize there's no room for Wei Ying left on that side anymore. What the other clans want is him de-clawed and de-fanged like the miserable creature they see him to be. What awaits Wei Ying on that side is more snide remarks about his position as a servant. What's left there is more bitter, spiteful, and petty reprimands every time he ever reaches beyond the narrow limits they've set for him. There is no life for Wei Ying in Gusu Lan or even in Lotus Pier. They don't understand what they are asking of him, and he doesn't know how to explain it.

On the other hand I genuinely challenge the idea that Jiang Cheng was in a politically precarious position to do anything for Wei Ying. Because I argue that he has the most to gain in the situation.

The only thing that eclipses the dislike the clans have for Wei Wuxian is the fear they have of him. They see him as a monster on the loose and Jiang Cheng could have so easily turned it into the Jiangs monster on a 'leash'. Wei Ying would have no problem playing along. He himself had asked his brother for a solution. All Jiang Cheng had to do was go back to the clans and go "Wei is chill but he's keeping the Remnants cause he's right, the Jins were mistreating them so they're under us now"

There will be an UPROAR, but all he needs to do is double down and go. "Yeah? Fine, we're leaving, " and no one will be able to do anything about it. They just ended the sunshot campaign. All of them are still licking their wounds. Nie Mingju is a brute, but he just fought a war. He's done. There's a reason they left Wei Ying more or less alone even after he defected from the Jiang Clan. They knew they couldn't take him with what was left, and they didn't want to try so soon after just losing so many.

As for the Jiang sect, they're starting from scratch. Becoming self sufficient is difficult but still more than doable. The Wen Remnants managed to turn the burial mounds into a home and grow radishes. You can't tell me Yunmeng doesn't have even more to offer the Jiangs than the burial mounds gave to the Wens.

Another secret weapon the Jiang have would be Jin Zixuan. Who's so in love with Jiang Yanli at this point that the idea of him defecting from the Jins for her to open his own sect (or join hers) is more than a possibility. Getting back into the Lans good graces is also feasible with Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji there.

If Jiang Cheng had been just a little smarter and willing to play the long game, he could have had everything. A tougher road, maybe but one that would've been worth it just to have Wei Ying. Instead, he just bends and snaps under the pressure almost immediately. It's another case of circumstances offering him an impossible task for him to rise to, but he just doesn't even try.

How much longer 'til your luck runs out?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[gay-dorito-dust]

lmao this is my first time giving a request. Could you maybe do dick Grayson head cannons?

Most of these hdc come from my little brain that I thought fit Dick in general, it’s not based on stuff (some of them are but not all) if ppl agree or don’t agree, I couldn’t care less honestly. Also thanks for the request anon, hope you like it! 🫶

I know I write him as a little goofy goober but he tends to play up this character so that he doesn’t have to open up about anything. Is it foolproof? Not entirely and it solely depends on the person and their relationship to him,those of whom that pick up what he’s putting down, and those (you) who can easily see through this facade and know something is up.

He’s more often than not the type who will become more affectionate in private where it’s just you, him and Hayley. Dick doesn’t need anybody else other then you two, his confidants as he so playfully called you both one day, and he’s more then content then he’s ever been.

Older sibling syndrome is strong in this boy.

Foot wars are a common occurrence in your shared apartment as you push against the others foot with your own to see who’s going to be victorious, only for you to accidentally smack him in the face with your foot and the foot war becomes ten times worse, seeing as how as Dick often wins them more then you did.

He will never stop feeling guilty about Jason’s death. Never. That boy who was filled with love and life and claimed that being robin was magic was still within Jason somewhere, dick just knows this to be true, even if Jason loves to claims that that little kid was gone.

And while he’s glad that Jason is back in his life, dick couldn’t help but feel as though he could’ve done better by him at times, holding onto that guilt and shame for not being their for his brother that still killed him inside to this day whenever he saw Jason laugh and or smile at something. It hurts but Dick will never stop being in Jason’s corner, not once. If Gotham was against Jason then Dick will gladly be by Jason’s side, to show that his allegiance to his brother would outweigh a lot of things.

(I’m so normal about dick and Jason being brothers can’t you tell 🥲 leave me here and be delusional)

The same applies to Damian also, which is why your mostly acquainted with both Jason and Damian in comparison to the rest of his family because they often come over by pure coincidence, or because dick dragged them by their ears with a smile on his face.

Insists that you cling onto his legs while he does pull ups and or sit on his back while he does push ups as he lets you count.

Complains to you when he looses the nightwing look alike contest, and to Jason no less, which no one that knows him personally allows him to live down.

They (Tim and Stephanie) even make memes out of it.

Has Hayley as his Lock Screen, you as his Home Screen. Both wearing cute matching pyjamas. So when he’s on his phone people think he’s smiling at his picture of Hayley -which is true- but he’s also smiling at the picture of you also.

His family pester him about you a lot, even Bruce asks when he’s going to meet you, claiming he’s not going to get any younger should Dick hold back on introducing you to him.

Even Alfred gets in on this as well but Dick always has an excuse locked and loaded when these questions are asked, but even he knows that Bruce knows that it’s all bullshit, however he doesn’t say anything outright incase Dick didn’t feel comfortable introducing you to them yet.

Wears only boxers to sleep or boxers and a light blue shirt, it depends on what he’s feeling really.

Loves living in the moment with you as you enjoy the others company without feeling the need to fill the air with chatter, you could just both exist and still love each other regardless because Dick didn’t feel the need to talk all the time, so moments like these were what he longed for most.

Ungracefully fell on his ass in fuzzy soaks once and hurt his tailbone in the process. It was funny until he asked to you put a bag of ice on the afflicted area.

Loved narrating what you and or Hayley do in a goofy voice that never fails to make you smile.

Doesn’t open up immediately but once he does it’s a sign of trust. He admits to his flaws in past relationships and how he wasn’t the most faithful and often saw commitment as a challenge. He understands if you see that as a sign to leave the relationship, he doesn’t expect anything from you, but if you did stay then he’s more then happy to not repeat those mistakes in your relationship.

Knows that people see Bruce when they look at him, he expects it because after being with him as long as he has it was only logical that he picked up some habits along the way whether he liked it or not.

Has a big heart but claims that Jason’s heart was twice as big because he’s so full of love and believed in love.

[slut4thebroken]

Pathetic

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepbro!Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | Your stepbrother is weird and annoying, but you’ve found a way to make good use of him.

Warnings | Smut, dub con? but like not really, incest technically, dry humping, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, he’s very pathetic, and subby, reader is very mean.

Words | 1.2 k

Notes | Idk in my head they’re both in college but still living at home lol. Also once again, I can’t think of a title😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 17: degradation

You thought your step brother was super weird and honestly a little annoying… but there were some redeeming qualities. He’ll pretty much do whatever you say— he’s only a few months younger, but he acts like it. Even though he’s taller and probably stronger, you can still boss him around like an older sister should. Then there was… his other useful quality. 

“You’re such a fucking pervert.” You spat, almost disgusted, and he whined behind you as his hips sped up. You were currently on your hands and knees on his bed, wearing just a shirt and panties. Neil was behind you, holding your hips still so he could dry hump you with his clothed dick in the cleft of your ass, over your underwear. “This is what gets you off? Humping your sister like a dog?” You snickered. 

“Oh god…” He moaned, rutting against you harder and faster. “Fuck, I- I’m gonna come.” He whimpered and you barked out a laugh. 

“Already?” His whines got louder and louder until his hips stilled a little and he was moaning and whimpering instead. You could feel his come soaking through both pairs of underwear and his cock twitching as it stayed pressed between your cheeks. “That’s all it takes? You just rub your dick on something and come in less than five minutes?” 

“Stop..” He whined pathetically. 

“Get off me.” You huffed, leaning up to push him down on the bed. You got him on his back, then straddled his hips and began grinding on him again, this time with your cunt.  

“Wait- wait,” He choked out, grabbing your hips. He let out a pained whine at the overstimulation, only encouraging you. 

“Don’t be such a baby.” You started grinding down on him harder, mostly to make it hurt more for him, but also to finally get yourself close to the edge. 

“Please stop..” He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, barely coping with the overstimulation. 

“God- do you ever shut up?” You groaned, leaning over him to put a hand over his mouth. The new angle was stimulating your clit even more, making you curse under your breath. 

He sobbed out a moan behind your hand and looked up at you with glossy eyes, his brows scrunched together in pain. Pink dusted his cheeks and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight. 

He’s never looked more pathetic. 

“Y’know, if you actually knew how to make a girl come, I wouldn’t have to do this.” You said bitterly, making him whine. “Of course I had to get stuck with a fucking virgin for a step brother. Maybe I’ll go find one of your friends— see if they have better stamina than a fucking teenager.” His hips bucked under yours, making you smirk a little. 

“Oh, do you like that?” You sneered. “Is that what you are, a cuck? Should I let you watch your friends do a better job than you ever could?” In response, he whimpered and shook his head. 

“You’re so fucking useless. This isn’t even worth it— I’m just going to get off by myself.” You started to lean up and when he reached out for you in a panic, you slapped his hands away. 

“No! I- I’m sorry. I can help.” 

“Can you?” You scoffed. “I don’t think your pathetic excuse for a cock will help me very much.” 

“My— my mouth..” You huffed, but laid down on your back, making him frown when your come soaked underwear got on his sheets. 

“Get to it then.” You snapped, bringing him into motion. He laid down between your legs and wrapped his arms under your thighs, then pulled your underwear to the side. He started with slow kisses and licks, quickly testing your patience. “Why am I coming like this and not with my vibrator?” You asked sarcastically, egging him on. Which got him to start moving more enthusiastically, sucking on your clit and slurping up your arousal. 

“God, you even eat pussy like a fucking virgin.” You muttered, sounding almost bored. He whined against you, sucking on your clit even harder and occassionally fucking his tongue inside you. 

You waited for him to bring you to the edge, but it was taking a while, so you decided to grab your phone and watch something to help you get there. The movement of you picking up the device caught his attention and he looked up at you without removing his mouth from your pussy. When moans started playing through the speaker, he immediately frowned and his ministrations faltered. 

“I let you come. Do the same for me or I’ll tell your mom about how much of a pervert her ‘precious baby boy’ is.” You snapped. He stared at you with slightly wide eyes, then reluctantly put his attention back on your cunt. 

The porn was definitely helping, as was knowing how degraded he probably felt. After a few minutes, he pulled back and you looked down at him, raising your brows. 

“My tongue is getting sore.” He explained with a pout, making you scoff. 

“You’re the one who begged to eat me out. Stop fucking complaining.” Using your free hand, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head back down, burying his face in your pussy. You held him in place like that for a few minutes, but when you started nearing the edge, you put his head in a leg lock, keeping his mouth pressed firmly against your cunt, giving him no other choice but to make you come. 

When you finally fell over the edge, you squeezed his head with your leg even tighter and your back arched off the bed. He was moaning against you and humping the bed, apparently enjoying your orgasm almost as much as you. 

After the pleasure faded, you let out a heavy breath and sagged back onto the bed, closing your eyes. Neil let out a soft sound against your pussy, so you sighed, but let your leg fall back down onto the bed, allowing him to pull off. The bottom half of his face was completely covered in his spit and your arousal, and he panted heavily for a few seconds as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. 

“Can I please come again?” He asked timidly, waiting until you had mostly recovered from your orgasm to ask. 

You looked down at him, then rolled your eyes and reached for your phone again. “Whatever. Hump my leg I guess.” He whined quietly, but straddled your thigh and started rutting against you while you scrolled through your phone, waiting impatiently for him to finish. 

Soon enough, his breathing was starting to pick up and his hips were moving more desperately as he neared the edge. “Fuck.. I’m gonna come.” He choked out, humping you frantically. When the front door slammed shut though, both of you froze. 

“Can you help bring in the groceries?” His mom called out from downstairs. 

“Be right there!” You yelled back, then sat up, making him whine loudly. 

“No- please.. I’m so close.” 

“Not my problem, loser. Get off.” You spat, pushing him off your leg onto the bed. You stood up, but paused when you heard quiet whimpering. More come was leaking from his underwear and he quickly reached down to try and salvage the rest of his ruined orgasm. You watched him stroke his erection through the fabric, getting his come all over his hands and crotch, making an even bigger mess. 

“You’re so fucking gross.” You scoffed, making him whine pathetically. Before leaving, you picked up his shirt from the floor and wiped the rest of his come from your ass, then put your shorts back on and walked out. 

[thedevilrisen]

Imagine

Jack and yourself sat nestled on the soft sand, a dry wind cut through the air, a shared blanket broke the chill. The quiet gentle waves rippled off the lake, the gentle melodical crash of water was your only company, a soothing rhythm matching the quiet comfort between you. Endlessly the canopy of stars stretched above you, twinkling like scattered diamonds.

"Do you reckon there is another version of us out there, Jacky?" You asked, Jack glanced over and watched the stars glisten in your eyes.

Jack's soft chuckle reverberated against your side, his warm breath fogging out into the cold night. "You mean.. in another galaxy or something?"

"Yeah," you replied, turning your head to face him, smiling softly as Jack's hand reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Maybe they are mirroring us, sitting on some alien beach and wondering if we exist."

Jack smiled and leaned in to kiss your reddening nose, "Even if they are, my alternate version would never be as lucky as I am."

You swatted at his chest, giving him a slight shove, "That's so cheesy!"

"Cheesy but true," he said, pulling her closer to him, rearranging the blanket to sit better on her shoulders.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemingly faded away, leaving only them in each others company cradled by the surrounding sky. Jack shifted slightly, not rousing you as he reached into his back pocket, hesitating for a second, his heart jumping in his chest. He pulled out a small velvet box.

When you caught sight of the simple yet elegant oval shaped ring that sparkled in the starlight, tears caressed your lash line.

"I was going to wait but I have carried this with me waiting for the right moment for weeks now and.. this feels perfect." Jack paused, arranging himself on his knee. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

You strared at him, heart pounding. "Jack.. Yes! Of course, yes!"

You could hear distant cheering as you see Jack's brothers standing with cameras on the bank of the beach, you smiled and waved as Jack slid the ring onto your finger and you grinned from ear to ear.

This was your universes happy ending.

[lostintransist]

.. that idea on ghost coming back with his therapist’s contact is brilliant, could we get a pt2 when we do hit him up cuz,,, it’s inevitable and he pulls up in that same motorbike and actually plans a banger date?

Just for you! A part 2! Original post for anyone curious is here.

Also thank you for what I am percieving as patience, I had things to accomplish today. But it gave me time to think about this...

CW: I can't think of any.

You held onto the business card. No real explanation that would satisfy you or anyone who might have asked. And your best friend did ask. Repeatedly.

“You still have the card?” She asked over drinks.

Running your tongue along the inside of your teeth you debate on how to answer.

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“And have you called the therapist or texted him yet? Do you even know his name?” She followed her questions with a sip of her drink.

“All I know is that when I search up S. Riley I get a few hits about a brother to a home invasion that ended badly a few years ago and nothing else. No one on social media matches him and without his full name or maybe a birthday I can’t find much else about someone that might be him.” Flopping back into the couch you watch your drink slide side to side as you tip your glass.

“You don’t have to call him but you have to make a decision about this soon,” she chides.

“No decision is a decision though.”

She gives you the flattest stare she can muster. Seeing as your best friend is autistic it’s a pretty impressive flat look.

Heaving a sigh you concede the point.

“Fine. I get it. I can’t avoid this forever, what if he finds me at a coffee shop again and asks why I haven’t called? S. Riley sure does seem like a man who doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.”

“I think you should call and tell the therapist to inform him that you would like to never see him again, but you have this whole ‘attracted to the adventure’ thing going on.” She rolled her eyes.

Aghast at being so well identified, it does not matter that she is your best friend, you fire off a rude gesture at her. She only laughs.

“At least I never have to worry about not realizing I fumbled the woman of my dreams three months late,” you say with a wicked grin.

“It was one time!” Your best friend launches one of the couch pillows at you.

“Twice.”

The purest look of concern crosses her face.

“Twice?” Comes her panicked ask.

“Once at the bar,” she nods, “And then last week at the bookstore.”

Watching her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open you can’t help the full-body laugh that overtakes you.

“I thought she was just being nice!” Her voice gets squeakier with each word.

You are laughing so hard you can’t breathe.

“I fucking love you and am so glad we are best friends,” you manage to croak out between ab-shredding laughs.

💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠

Your next early day off of work you pop in your headphones and call the number printed on the business card. It sat between your insurance card and your driver’s license. Those two cards didn’t see much action and would keep the business card from disappearing.

“Thank you for calling Healing Sky Therapy, how can I help you?”

“Yes, is Anna Mortz available?”

“For a phone call or an appointment?” The sound of clicking keys bubbles over the line.

“A phone call, I am calling to speak to her about a current patient of hers.”

“Okay, and are you a provider?”

This causes you to pause. Did you really need to explain why or how you were connected to this crazy situation? No. Bare bones it is.

“No, I should be listed as a person who can discuss the care of a patient of hers who goes by S. Riley?”

“Okay,” she drags the word. “It looks like I can drop a call in her schedule in about forty minutes if that would work for you?”

“That would work great, can I give you a callback number?”

“Yes, I can take that when you are ready.”

Finishing up the phone call you grabbed your grocery list and headed out the door. Your phone rang as you were transferring bags from your cart to your trunk. The number looked vaguely familiar and so you answered.

“Hi this is Anna Mortz, I am returning a phone call.”

“Yes, hi Anna. I am the one who called.”

“That was in regards to Simon Riley, right? Let’s go through some information on my end to make sure that we can discuss him first okay?”

“Absolutely,” you slam the trunk closed and return your cart while confirming all of your information.

“So, what questions can I answer for you?” Anna started.

“Let me get settled and I will give you the rundown.” Tossing your purse to the passenger side and locking the door you get situated in your seat. You push a large breath from your lungs and start. “Okay, so this is a weird situation. The long and the short of it is that Simon had been dating a friend of mine several years back and they were not good together. He was being a pushy asshole who refused to let the relationship die and she was codependent to a deeply unhealthy level. My friend asked for help in telling him off once and for all. She tended to cave and give into having sex every time he came by to start a fight. That is where I met Simon.”

Anna made a noise of confirmation. You took it as permission to keep telling your story.

“Nothing more came of that except my friend and I drifted apart, nothing major and not important to the story. I ran into Simon next at my friend’s wedding reception. I don’t know if he showed up to confirm to himself that it was really over or if she actually invited him but,” you paused here eyes tracing the dash of the car parked in front of you. With a slight shake of your head, you focus back on your phone call. “That is neither here nor there. He hit on me that night and I told him basically to fuck off and go to therapy if he wanted a shot at that conversation.”

Puffing your cheeks with air you slowly let it out, you felt like you were explaining a whole crazy situation to the principal.

“He ran into me at a coffee shop close to probably a year later, dropped your card on the table with his number on the back, and insinuated that I would call because I was interested in him.”

“Okay, that is pretty close to the story he told me as well,” Anna speaks with kind authority. “What I can tell you from a clinical standpoint is that Simon struggles with C-PTSD, which is complex post-traumatic stress disorder. This basically means that Simon has been through so many traumatic events at so many points in his life that he has a hard time functioning day to day without it affecting every aspect of his life. I can also tell you that we have been working on him gaining some coping abilities and practicing social skills.”

“Okay, I guess what I am asking is that if I go on a date with him will I end up with a stalker who will end up killing me in the night if I say I don’t want to see him again?” You lay your concerns bare. She’s not your therapist so her judgment worries you a bit less.

“While nothing is guaranteed,” she hedges, “I cannot see that kind of behavior occurring with the progress Simon has made. He has scheduled out appointments weekly for the next three months with me and has even mentioned he is working on some other types of therapy I have recommended to help him process his traumas further. He’s actually doing the work to deal with his issues. I think he is here because he wants to be, you happened to be the trigger.”

Resting your elbow on the steering wheel you leaned your head into your hand.

“Whew, okay. Thank you. That is actually really helpful. How is he about accepting boundaries?”

“He is familiar and comfortable with them in a work context but if you choose to interact with him I know personal boundaries will come up in our sessions. So, I would keep it in mind when interacting with him.”

“Okay, thank you so much Anna this call has been,” a slight pause, “Enlightening. I appreciate your time.”

“Happy to help. Have a good day!”

With that the phone call ends and you stare down at your phone. Flicking open your messaging app you add the contact you saved to it almost a month ago.

<Your therapist seems nice.

Three minutes pass as you watch the screen. It goes black once and you wake it with a tap on the screen.

Tossing it to the passenger side on top of your purse you put the text from your mind. You instead focus on pulling out of your spot. Parking lots are of the devil and you aren’t even religious like that.

Five days pass before a message dings on your phone from one S. Riley.

>Can’t say she is nice to me. I get a lot of mean looks from her.

Setting a timer for an hour and thirteen minutes you let the text simmer. You hope he can see that you have opened the message.

<You normally take a work week to respond?

>Only when I am on a job.

The reply comes in instantly.

<What kind of jobs keep you from your phone?

>Classified.

<Ooh big brain work then. Got it.

You snort at the eye roll emoji he sends.

>So, have you decided if I can hit you up yet?

<I’m thinking about it. If I were to say yes, where would you take me?

>Indoor sky diving.

You read the three-word message at least six times, check out the closest indoor sky diving place near you, and then finally reply.

Starting and erasing three messages you finally settle on one.

<Would we ride your bike there?

>Unless you would prefer to talk on the drive over?

What do you talk about with a man when you had to check with his therapist that he wouldn’t murder you?

<Bike sounds like fun.

>Saturday?

<Maybe. Time?

>2

<Done. Pick me up at noon and we can grab lunch?

>No, you’re going to want an empty stomach. Dinner instead.

Narrowing your eyes at the message you debate the logic of testing a boundary yet. The advice to not have a full stomach did look like a good one.

<Fine, but nowhere fancy. If I can’t roll up in the same outfit I don’t want it.

The only reply you get for several hours is a thumbs up on your message.

Guess you had a date coming up.

[tinylilacbun]

Could you do a JJ’s little sister fanfic where she gets hit by Luke and JJ comforts her and takes her to the chateau to get her away from it? She could be like 13 maybe

Daddy Issues

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, child abuse, Luke, bruises, swearing

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You squint your eyes shut as you try to close the front door quietly, praying to god that your father is dead asleep or passed out from drinking.

Peeking inside the living room you sigh in relief when he is nowhere to be seen only to squeak when you bump into a chest, looking up to face your father.

"You're late." He states, the smell of beer reaches your nose and you refrain from the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust.

"M-My phone died and I lost track of time." You stammer, cursing at yourself mentally for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he's scaring you.

"Uh-huh..." He trails off before his fist suddenly connects with your face, sending you on the ground from the inpact. "Care to explain why your goddamn school called me today 'cause you keep ditchin'?"

You cradle the side of your face, tears stinging in your eyes as you try to come up with an explanation only to flinch when he raises his hand again.

"If I get one more call I swear I'll give you a beating that you'll never forget." He seethes and when you don't give any acknowledgement he leans down to grab your face with one hand, his fingers digging uncomfortably into your skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yes dad..." You answer, your voice shaking.

He let's go of you harshly, walking past you to get himself another beer and you quickly scramble off the floor to rush for your room, locking the door you press your forehead against it and let the tears finally flow.

Fun fact, the only times you don't go to school are the days you got another bruise from Luke, not wanting to keep explaining to your teachers where they're from and risking that CPS gives you a visit, knowing they would instantly take you and JJ into foster care and the chances that you both stay together is low.

You wouldn't know what to do without him. He's your big brother, the only person you can tell everything and see more as a father figure than Luke.

20 minutes later you're curled up on your bed, sobbing quietly into your pillow when a tapping on your window startles you, lifting your head to see JJ.

You force yourself to get up and walk over to the window, opening it for him to stumble through.

"Thanks...didn't wanna get caught by dad." He says, standing back straight he smoothes out his clothes, adjusting the cap on his head.

He doesn't notice what state you're in until you move back to your bed, getting a glimpse of your face from the lamp on your nightstand illuminating it.

His eyes widen as he approaches you. "Whoa, what happened." He asks, lifting his hand to grab your chin but when you flinch away he stops mid air, his jaw clenching the moment he realizes.

Luke. He's gonna kill him. He's gonna fucking-

JJ's thoughts are interrupted by you starting to sob, pulling you into a hug with a hand cradling the back of your head against his chest. "Shh, I'm here now...I got you."

He just stands there with you for a while, not making any move to pull away, waiting for you to make the first move and when you do he pushes you gently to sit down on your bed.

Without saying anything he grabs one of your bags and shoves some clothes into it and any necessities he thinks you might need, then crouches down to pick up the teddy bear you had since you were a baby and shoves it in there as well before he stands back up.

"Let's go." He grabs your hand and pulls you towards your window.

You don't protest and climb over the window seal, your feet touching the ground again you watch JJ come out after you and shut the window quietly.

He grabs your hand again and leads you to his dirt bike, helping you sling the bag onto your back, climbing onto his bike first he waits for you to get on as well.

After you do, you wrap your arms around him tightly, your face pressing against his back. JJ revs his bike before taking off towards the Chateau, knowing you'll feel safer there.

Arriving at your second home JJ stops the others from greeting you, telling them you need a moment and taking you inside, placing his hands on your shoulders he leans down to meet your gaze.

His heart aches at the sight of the blooming bruise on your right eye, your eyes puffy and red rimmed from the crying. "Go take a shower, I'm waiting with the others outside, yea?"

You nod, making your way to the bathroom JJ sighs, walking back outside he grabs a beer can and cracks it open, taking a big sip.

"What's up with tiny maybank?" John b asks, his concern growing when JJ starts pacing, pulling the cap off his head angrily.

"Fucking Luke..." The blonde mutters. "He hit her man! He hit my baby sister!"

Everyone's eyes widen, protectiveness and anger flaring up in all of them. You're the youngest of the group, so of course they see you as their own little sibling and would do anything for you, just like JJ does.

"Why? What happened? Is she okay?" Kie asks concerned and JJ scoffs.

"No, she's not fucking okay, kie. She has a damn black eye 'cause of this piece of shit!" He snaps at her, too worked up to see that his friends are just as worried and upset as he is.

"Man, calm down, okay? We're trying to help." Pope tries to ease the tension.

"Right, right. I'm sorry- I just...fuck. I should've been there I..." JJ trails off, feeling tears build up in his eyes but pushing them back.

He knows how you feel, the feeling of not understanding how someone who's supposed to love and take care of you can hurt you like that without batting an eye.

JJ feels even worse for not being there to protect you, to stop his father from laying a hand on you.

He sits down on the ground near the crinkling fire, his arms braced on his knees when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looking to his side to look at John b.

His best friend doesn't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "It's not your fault, jay. We're here for you both."

JJ just nods, giving him a small smile. "I know. Thank you. All of you."

Everyone's attention goes to the Chateau when they hear the screen door being shut, seeing you coming towards them, freshly showered and dressed in an oversized shirt.

JJ instantly gets on his feet again, approaching you to pull you into another hug and you wrap your arms around him, holding onto his shirt tightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I-"

"S'okay..." You whisper, already feeling a lot better being in the presence of your real family. "I love you, jay..."

"I love you too, kid." He whispers back, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead. "More than anything.

You smile at him, the throbbing pain from your bruised eye slowly fading as you turn to look at the others. "Hey guys..."

"C'mon, sit with us, sweetie." Sarah pats the places next to her and you go to sit beside her, letting her wrap an arm around you.

The moment everyone gets settled again the usual banter and laughter kills the built up tension in the air, JJ keeping an eye on you the whole time to make sure you're alright.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[hencheri]

18+ mdni.

pairing: mean stepbro!chenle x fem!reader

warnings: stepcest, heavy dubcon, very very mean chenle, coercion.

.

chenle is the annoying brother that you could imagine. he loves being mean, takes a lot of satisfaction in it. a lot of pleasure. 

he never misses an opportunity to make fun of you, whether it’s to pinpoint how much better he is at school than you are, or how much of a disappointment you must be to your parents, he always laughs at you. you could argue that he’s just trying to get under your skin — and it works especially well — but chenle does think he’s better than you.

he’s always bickering with you, and maybe you wouldn’t catch any of his attempts to create a fight if your mom and his dad wouldn’t take his side so often. you get so frustrated by it, which you get scolded for even more. 

chenle can be bearable sometimes — only when he wants to, though. he helps you with your assignments when you ask nicely, even though you get called an idiot a bunch of times. he plays video games with you, and he’s pretty enjoyful in those moments, but it’s always ruined by chenle being mean to you one too many times. you end up yelling at him as he laughs at your petty attitude, and you either throw your controller at him or call him an asshole before storming away in your room.

but chenle isn’t all that perfect like your parents think he is. far from it, even.

they don’t know how he really sees his stepsister. they don’t know what type of bonding moments he really shares with you. no, because if they did, they would absolutely disown him, and you as well, but the thought of your parents discovering chenle isn’t the well-behaved and respectful boy he pretends to be makes you really, really happy. 

if they knew what chenle’s intentions really are when bugging you, like stealing your phone and raising it out of your reach above your head, maybe they wouldn’t call him a good boy anymore. maybe they wouldn’t congratulate him for his good grades or for becoming the captain of his college basketball team. 

chenle knows this dirty secret could ruin the clean image he puts out, but sometimes his desires are stronger than him. and so are yours, too. 

“give it to me!” you groan as you desperately pull on chenle’s arm that is perched up in the air with your phone in his hand. “you’re so annoying, i swear!”

his arm doesn’t budge though, and you start to grow tired, but he still has his insufferable triumphic smile drawn on his face. 

“then take it,” he mocks, holding his arm high in the air, his other hand pushing on your shoulder. 

“that’s what- argh!” you stomp your foot on the floor in frustration, backing away from your brother. “i need it, chenle. stop being an ass.”

“okay, you really want it?” he asks as he lowers the phone, pulling it away when he sees your attempt of taking it from his hand immediately when it’s in your reach. “hey. answer my question.”

you roll your eyes, sighing, “yes, of course, chenle!”

you cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, licking his lips and shifting your phone from one hand to another, knowing pertinently he’s being an asshole right now. 

“i have an offer, then,” he smirks. 

you frown because why would you bargain with him to have your phone back? it’s yours! but knowing chenle, he always wants to gain something from any situation. 

“that’s ridiculous,” you scoff, but he’s absolutely serious — despite the smile on his lips. 

“do you want your phone back?” he asks more sternly to which you grumble a ‘yes’. “i’ll let you have it if you accept to be a little nicer to me.”

“what?” you laugh, “nicer to you? as if you deserve it. eat shit.” you head for the door of your bedroom, and chenle pulls you right back to him, not wanting you to go away from him. 

“oh, come on,” he whispers beside your ear, his arm going around your waist, “quit being a bitch and play with me,” he proposes and you feel yourself immediately melting down. how can he be so tempting?

you try to resist anyway, removing his grip from around your body. “chenle,” you scold, “that’s not the moment.”

but he brings you against him once again, putting his face beside yours, his lips touching the shell of your ear. “it’s fine, your mom’s out at work and my dad’s dead asleep upstairs,” he insists, but it’s yet not enough to make you give up. “i’ll fucking shatter your phone against the wall if you keep being a petty whore,” he grits through his teeth and you know that his threat is very real. 

you’re no stranger to chenle’s ruthless way of fucking — pitiless he is, but evil he is even more, and you get to experience it everytime he catches you between his claws. sharp, mean claws that leave your skin bruised. marks that you have to explain to your friends, inventing an imaginary boyfriend who’s filthy in the bedroom. 

“you’re only good for taking cock.” his breath hits the side of your face, his voice harsh like the hands gripping your hips. “you don’t care if it’s your brother’s, as long as it’s in your stupid fucking cunt, right?” he chuckles, pounding you from behind, having the familiar sight of your head buried into your pillows in front of him. 

you only muster out a ‘shut up’ out of your mouth, and as unconvincing as you sound with teary eyes, you truly want him to stop talking so much. 

chenle only looks more pleased. no matter the amount of tears you cry, he knows you like it, and this little fact is enough to make him have the upper hand on you. he always does.

he tugs on your hair, lifting your head from the pillows. “you can tell me to shut up how many times you want, sweetheart, you’ll still cum around my cock like the fucking slut you are,” he states, shoving your face back into the cushions, your tears leaving wet patches on the fabric. 

you cry out when he hits the sensitive spot inside of you, his grip on your hair remaining and making your scalp burn badly. 

“stop whining so loudly, you don’t want my dad to find us like this, do you?” chenle slaps your ass with his palm as a warning and you shake your head the best you can. “good because i’ll have to shut you up myself, and i know how much you hate when i do that, hm?”

there are plenty of things you hate about chenle, but this is surely the one you hate the most, and he knows it because you didn’t talk to him for days after that. and so knowing better than to piss him off, you keep your lips sealed shut.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Ok I have a request that’s been brewing in my brain, what if Daryl and reader were out on a run and reader finds a mixtape in the car and plays it, and one of the songs is Creep by Radiohead and she starts singing along and he’s never heard her sing before and he’s like totally enamored by it. But when he starts to listen to the lyrics it maybe hits too close to home and he starts to get insecure and think he’s not good enough for her and he’s kinda standoffish for a bit and when he finally tells her what’s wrong she shows him how much he means to her and how special he is to her AHHHH

Ps ur writing is amazing I love it sm 🫶🫶

Creep

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Anxious!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Allusions to sex.

A/N: I cannot tell you how much I LOVE this request, thank you Anon! I'm sorry its taken me a while I have been ill as hell, but I'm hoping to get a few bits uploaded today when my heating kicks in and my fingers start moving again!

-

The dashboard is dusty. The kind of dust that seeps up your nose and makes you smell damp. The car is cramped and the road is bumpy as all hell, but he’s content, almost peaceful as she smiles over at him. He quirks a corner of his mouth upwards in response, knowing he’ll get lost in her smile if he lets himself, and the last thing he wants to do is crash the car when its so full of wares.

It’s not new, not really, their….relationship. It’s the culmination of the electricity that’s been thrumming underneath the surface for a while. So it’s not new, not really, but it is tentative. Everything with Daryl is tentative except killing walkers and hunting; there’s a sick sense of irony that it took the world ending for him to be confident in something. He’s not confident when it comes to her, even now. Even now she’s sitting there holding his hand as he drives back to Alexandria. He could have initiated the hand holding, probably, maybe, she’d like that, but the fear that he’s going to be rejected for trying is always overwhelming.

This run was simple, thank god, neither of them are bruised and battered though Daryl did smack the side of his head rather painfully against a door trying to block a walker. They’re taking three boxes of canned goods, some jumpers for the colder weather and a large handful or seven of treats back to Alexandria. He feels good. Better than he has in a long time; he can almost forget that his shoulder hurts every morning and his brother is dead and the dead are, you know, eating people.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, fighting the quirk of his lip that tries to sneak up on him again and failing miserably. She clocks it anyway, picking his hand up to her lips to press a kiss to it before dropping it out of reach in a way that’s so very her. She’s careful with him, never overstepping the boundaries she guesses he has because he hasn’t actually told her, but she offers affection like most people offer hellos. She never pulls away without reassurance.

“Can I see what’s on this?” her voice breaks him out of his thoughts, holding up a crappy mix-tape she’d found atop one of the boxes. She doesn’t even know if it will work, but she’s trying to be appreciative of the small mercies that come with this impossible life and by a stroke of luck they’re driving a car old enough to still have a damn tape slot. She doesn’t expect words to accompany his nod.

And suddenly she’s blaring out the words to a song he vaguely remembers from before, dancing in her seat whilst she lowers her voice for comic effect.

She can sing, he knows she can so she’s doing this for his benefit, to make him laugh. He’s heard her voice in the shower, echoing through their new home, melodic and soft and beautiful. His whole body is warm, bursting at the seams with affection, with the knowledge that she thinks of him even in the tiny moments; that even when she’s doing something she’ll enjoy she��s still trying to entertain him.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Maybe it’s the words that set his brain off. Maybe its that the dust reminds him of a home that had never been a home. He thinks back to all the times he’s watched her from a distance, the times he was too afraid to talk to her but wanted to keep her safe, following her from behind like a fucking stalker. He flinches as the memories of the kids in the playground flood him, the ones who’d called him weird and creepy, the voice of his father saying nobody would ever love him, the southern twang of his brother saying the same, ‘nobody is ever gonna love ya except me, baby brother’. But she does, doesn’t she? Or at least something close, she’d made that clear.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Hadn’t she made that clear? Hadn’t she kissed him of her own volition? Had he stayed too close until she had no other choice? Had he made his feelings too obvious? Had he been weird and creepy? Had he forced his affection on her until she’d just given in? Maybe people in his previous life had been right about him.

He pulls through the gates on autopilot, doesn’t even remember who was on guard duty but someone had to have let them in. He unloads the car, mind simultaneously numb and in overdrive, hands the boxes to…someone and slams the door shut hard enough he makes himself flinch.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Her soft voice barely registers through the muddled thoughts, she sounds far away and out of reach.

“Nothin’”

He shakes off the warm fingers against his arm, turns to trudge back to their shared house, ignoring the way her footsteps follow in time with his, trying to ignore that he knows she’s got shorter legs than he does and he knows she’s trying to catch up.

“You’re a terrible liar”

“I ain’t”

“Daryl-“

“I can’t do this” he pauses, doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he scuffs his toe against the asphalt. He hasn’t thought far enough ahead to realise she has to follow him home as she lives there, he just needs to flee “Us” he clarifies as if she hadn’t worked it out already.

“You were fine five minutes ago, I don’t-”

“I ain’t good at this shit. I dun’ want it” he lies through his teeth.  He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Her footsteps don’t resume as his do, and he takes her not following as acceptance, as proof his brain is right, as confirmation she never wanted him in the first place. Kicking off his boots as he seeks sanctuary inside their home he leaves the front door open for her. He’s never been inconsiderate on purpose.

Body freezing momentarily when he finally hears the front door click shut, he breaths a small sigh of relief that she’s home before guilt gnaws at him. Chewing his fingernails, he half expects her to come to his room, but he hears her upstairs closing the door to hers before the boiler kicks in to tell him she’s taking a shower. His head throbs at him, but the painkillers are in the bathroom upstairs and he avoids taking them unless he really has to.

It’s a testament to how fucking awkward he is that he hides in his basement bedroom until the sun has set, as if he hasn’t wanted a cigarette for the past two hours. Carol won’t let him smoke in the house, a rule implemented months ago, before she’d left for her own smaller house. He’s yet to break it out of respect and if he’s honest, fear. If anyone could sense something wrong from buildings away it would be Carol, and he doesn’t trust his partner housemate not to tell Carol just for a laugh. Daryl both loves and hates how close the two women are, by which he means that it’s lovely until he is the target of their anger or humour and then it is significantly less so.

“Thought you might want some company” her voice startles him out of his thoughts as she sits gracefully next to him on the front step of the porch.

“Don’t need ya pity”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not pitying you” She tries to keep the anger out of her tone. She doesn’t know what’s going on but if she’s confident about one thing its that Daryl wants her and she’s not about to let him sabotage his own happiness by being hard on himself “How’s the head?”

“Sore”

She shakes the small bottle of aspirin at him, pulled from the pocket of her pyjama pants.

“Take a painkiller”

“Better spent on someone else”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mo’ important people ‘ere than me, I ain’t ever been worth nothin’”

“Daryl-“

“Nah, I ain’t, I weren’t worth shit before, didn’t even have a fuckin’ job, ain’t worth shit now”

“Don’t do that, don’t act like you’re not important, just fucking don’t”

There’s such fierce disappointment under the ire in her tone that it stops him for a beat. He raises his gaze from the smooth wooden steps to look at her face, takes her in properly since he’d walked off earlier in the day. He catches the worry in her eyes, the wobble in her bottom lip she’s trying to bite away, chewing nervously.

“Why? I dun’ deserve ya, dun’ deserve any of this” voice cracking, splintering at the edges around the emotions he’s so used to burying. He can’t bury them when she’s looking at him like this.

“I’d die for you and you don’t even think you matter” she laughs sadly, but its wet, squishy, it doesn’t sit right on her face through the water that’s leaving her eyes. He wonders if she’s aware of the magnitude of what she just said, but she isn’t done, doesn’t show a sign that he can interrupt to point it out “What did I do wrong? How have I failed to show you that? I don’t understand”

Daryl has spent his whole life thinking he is in the way, that he’s a burden no matter how much he tries to prove his worth. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, but here she is crying at the thought of losing him, taking his ridiculous issues as a way she’s failed and he can’t have it, he just can’t. He reaches over, linking his fingers with hers, looking down to watch the way her thumb rubs over his fingers.

“Did I push this on ya?”

“Daryl no”

“What if I didn’t give ya a choice?”

“Daryl, look at me” she waits patiently until he turns his head to her “I chose this, I chose you” she keeps her hand in his as she eases up off the porch steps, tugging his hand until he complies, stubbing out his cigarette on the way up “Come inside”

She looks the door behind them, dims the lights before letting her hand drop and standing facing him in the middle of the room. He stands stock still, lost and confused as she strips her clothes off, purposeful but not rushed. He feels the heat that floods his cheeks.

Finally, when she’s completely naked she locks her eyes on his

“This scar, the one on my side? When I was seven I fell out of a tree, had a stick go right through, it was gross. This one on my shoulder? Argued back once with the wrong man, put me through a door. This one? See it? Put my arm through a window three sheets to the wind on bad tequila, think I wanted to end it all”

He swallows hard, never having had the stories behind the scars he’s seen. They’ve been intimate, a handful of times since this thing started, but she’s hidden almost as much as he has so this bravery is new. Astonishing.

“Do you see me, Daryl?”

“Yea-“ the crackle in his own voice cuts him off.

“Look at me and tell me I don’t look like I have a choice right now. Tell me you made me do this”

“I can’t”

He doesn’t realise he’s stopped closer until her fingers are toying with the collar of his button down.

“Please take it off”

He wants to protest, shifting on his feet in discomfort but the look on her face is so fucking soft, so open and vulnerable as she stands bare in front of him and he tries to keep his eyes on her face. He’d never deny her anything, so he undoes the buttons with shaking fingers. Hers follow, easing the shirt off his shoulders.

He shudders as she traces her fingers over the scars that litter his torso, reaching forward to place his hands around her waist, grounding and solid. Her skin is warm under his touch.

“I wish you could see yourself how I do”

“What d’ya see?” He whispers, kneading the flesh under his palms absentmindedly. He’ll deny himself the pleasure of his base urges as he’s done throughout the years, but even he’s not strong enough not to trail his hands up and down her skin, knuckles grazing the underside of her breasts with each upward stroke.

“Strong, kind, decent. You’re beautiful, Daryl Dixon”

He sucks in a sharp breath as she continues.

“Blue eyes, the way they look at me" she didn't need to look up to his gaze to know it was there, but she does anyway, sees the admiration, the pleading that's always behind his eyes "Look at your hands on me” she lays her hands over his, marvels at how much space they take up on her ribcage “Big, warm hands, safest hands I’ve ever known”

He clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head in disagreement, opening them again when he feels her palm against the stubble on his cheek.

“They’re safe, Daryl, I don’t know what’s happening in here right now” she taps his forehead with a finger “But I see you. Let me love you”

“Ya love me?”

“Yes” makes sure she looks at him when she says it, simply and firmly, no room for argument “Eyes wide open, knowing who you are, knowing what you’ve done, seeing you. Yes. I love you. Let me show you”

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter thirteen: "I've never known a normal day in my entire life"

Summary: Spencer's mother moves in with her son and wife. This is exactly when things start going south for the Reids. Word count: 9.750 Warning:  Sad Spencer, violence, sadness, angst.  A/N: My poor babies... at least Spencer isn't alone during these sad times.

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 27th)

(Y/N)'s point of view

After Hotch's departure and everything that it meant, I really wasn't at my best. It took me a few days to get into the right mental state again. I was scared the entire time, honestly. I kissed my babies every morning before dropping them at daycare, thinking anything could happen to them while we were at work. And Spencer knew it. The way he looked at me, he was worried, I could tell. But he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't dealing with it. He was waiting, I guess. Waiting for anything to happen, and force us to deal with what was happening around us.

And work, of course, didn't help at all. A few weeks after Prentiss' arrival as our new Unit Chief, Mr. Scratch targeted our team, again. That time, he kidnaped and tortured Tara's brother, Gabriel, while brainwashing and drugging a poor guy called Desmond Holt, and convinced him he was Gabriel.

It was one of the hardest cases we had to deal with in the last months, 'cos that guy didn't know he wasn't Gabriel, he was sure he was Tara's brother. And he knew everything about them. Even their secret handshake. I couldn't even begin to think what Mr. Scratch had done to Gabriel to get all that information. It was everything I had been afraid of in the recent weeks, starting from the second Prentiss said:

- "I've placed protective details on Hayden and Joy, Sofia and the babies, and Will and the boys. We need to assume that Mr. Scratch is targeting this entire team."

I refused to make eye contact with Spencer that minute, though I could feel him watching me. I knew our workline was dangerous, and things could get serious from one minute to the other. I just didn't need a reminder. So I did what I do best. I focused on work and refused to think of anything else until the case was solved.

Ironically, I became Tara's rock during the investigation. I remained by her side, or at the other side of the mirror while she interrogated Desmond. I repeated countless times how everything was going to get better. That we were going to find her brother Gabriel safe. I stayed with her father and buried any fear I had about my family's safety 'cause it was the right thing to do at work.

But I was getting fed up with what Scratch was doing to our team. He was making me feel a fear I didn't know before, and he was pushing us, playing with us, and getting away with it every single fucking time. That's why, when we got ready to catch him and bring Gabriel back safely, all I kept thinking was killing that son of a bitch.

- "Please, chipmunk, be safe."- Spencer whispered as he checked on my bulletproof vest, the same way he did every time we were out on a mission.

- "You too, Batsy."

- "Always."- he replied and kissed the tip of my nose. I made sure his vest was secured as well and looked at him.

- "You are making dinner tonight, by the way."- I reminded him, just to get out of my head for a moment.

- "So we are eating take-out tonight"- he joked under his breath as the rest of the team gathered outside the elevator.

- "Healthy and balanced dinner for Raven. I'm expecting veggies, protein... Maybe some fruit."- but it wasn't the time or the place to be sweet. We had to focus. The elevator's door opened and we all got in but Tara. She had a short and emotive conversation with her father before stepping. As soon as the doors closed and we started descending, Emily said:

- "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting tired of losing to this rat-faced son of a bitch."- I turned to her and nodded, biting my lips not to curse, 'cos I knew Tara was going through hell, and we had to keep our shit together. - "He's not gonna take anyone else away from us, not on my watch. Am I clear?"

- "Yes boss."- I replied and Prentiss nodded at us.

- "Let's get to work."

Like every cliché unsub we had tracked, Mr. Scratch hid Gabriel in a warehouse. Who would have known they'd pick such an original location? We got there with a SWAT team, ready to deal with whatever trap that mother fucker had set for us. Spencer found out as soon as we cleared the perimeter where the controller of the main trap was. He just needed to figure out how to dismantle it, which did in a matter of minutes and we were lucky to bring Gabriel back safe and sound. However, we didn't get even close to catching Mr. Scratch, and my fears became stronger. That mother fucker was out there, and he knew who we were, our weaknesses, and how to get to us.

- "Mommy, can we go to the park?"- Raven asked me when we picked her up from my mom's that evening. We made it out early, and I wanted to enjoy every single second of the day with our babies.

- "Of course!"- I replied as Spencer secured her in her chair in the car, and I did the same with baby Vinny.

- "And then we could grab some ice cream."- my husband suggested.- "And maybe a new book to read before bed."

- "Yes!!"- our daughter has always been excited when it comes to a trip to the bookstore. She is very much like her dad, and I love that.

- "Are you available for dinner sometime this week?"- I read Frank's text as I sat behind the wheel, and Spencer looked at me almost scared.

- "Please don't tell me we have a case."

- "No, Frank wants to meet for dinner this week."

- "That'd be nice."- Spencer's answer surprised me. I don't know why I thought he wouldn't be in the mood to meet with the guys considering the stress we were under. - "We could use a fun evening with our friends."- which was true.

- "I love Uncle Frany!"- Raven yelled from the back seat, making me chuckle. Call me crazy, but knowing my daughter and my best friend had a close godfather/goddaughter relationship had always made me happy. Those are the sweet, beautiful things in life I didn't want anyone ruining. Never.

Spencer's point of view

I tried to keep my wife calm and happy. I kissed her and told her I loved her as many times as I could every day without transgressing any PDA rules at work. I cooked dinner three times a week, did every one of my chores, played and read bedtime stories to my children, went grocery shopping, and made love to my wife looking into her eyes and telling her how much I loved her. But work didn't help, and neither did reality. Life was getting harder, messy, and more challenging, no matter how hard I tried to make it all perfect.

Over a month after putting my mother into a new facility in Houston, Texas, to be part of an experimental group of investigation that had incredible research and promised to stop and basically heal patients with Alzheimer's, I got a call that ended my mental peace and brought me back to reality.

We were working on a case in Yakima, Washington. I was all alone in the police station, staring at the board with the information of the victims, waiting for (Y/N) to come back with Rossi from the field, where they were talking with the parents of the unsub's first victim. We were making progress, but we were against the clock, as usual. My head was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of ways to locate the unsub, until my phone rang. It was my mom.

- "Hi, Mom. I was gonna call you a little bit later. How are you..."

- "Spencer! You have to help me!"

- "What?"

- "They are missing! Someone took them!"- my mother's voice was frantic, almost hyperventilating.

- "Who's missing?"- I narrowed my eyes, trying to imagine who could be taken from a clinic, and how.

- "Pat and Grace! I haven't seen them in days! I need your team to help me find them!"

. "No, Mom. Pat and Grace live in Las Vegas. You're in Houston, at the Anderson clinic. We moved there last month, remember?"- I could feel my heart breaking as my mother spoke those words. She was having an episode. She was absolutely lost.

- "In... in Texas? I'm living in Texas?"- her confusion was palpable, as well as my defeat. She wasn't getting any better. If anything, she was worse.

- "Yeah, in Texas."

- "Oh... I'm sorry Spencer. I'm... not feeling very well, my head... maybe I should lay down for a while."

- "Absolutely. A nap sounds like a really great idea. Why don't you get a little bit of rest and I'm gonna call you back later, ok?"

- "Yes... how are the kids? Raven is going to school already?"

- "They are great, mom. I'll tell you everything later, ok? Just get some rest. I love you."

- "I love you too, honey."

I stared at the phone after I hung up, thinking - overthinking sound about right- about all the calls I had had with my mom in the last month. Until that second, I was sure she was doing better, but clearly, she wasn't. The complete opposite, in fact: my mother was having an episode and she sounded as lost as possible.

- "Is everything all right?"- JJ walked into the room holding two cups of coffee. I kept staring at the phone in my hands as she moved closer to me and gave me one of the cups.

- "It's my mom."- I confessed and placed the phone back in my pocket.- "She was confused. There she was and she was convinced that her friends had been kidnapped. She wanted us to investigate."

- "Spence, I'm sorry."- she whispered and stared at me with honest sadness.

- "This was my biggest fear, you know, about getting her into the clinical trial. I think she's getting a placebo."- it wasn't something I would talk about much at the moment, but right there, I just needed to get that off my chest 'cos it was shocking, and it hurt like a stab in the heart.

- "But you said she was getting better."- JJ moved even closer and kept her eyes on mine.

- "She was. Or I... I was... I don't know, I was fooling myself into thinking that. Maybe I wanted to believe it so much that I was experiencing the placebo effect, too."- I rambled thinking I had been a fool.

- "Is there anything I can do?"

- "I don't know."- I sighed and felt JJ wrapping her arm around me. So I hugged her back and felt like a failure. No matter what I did, I just couldn't help my mom.

- "I'm so sorry, Spence."

- "Hell...o."- (Y/N) opened the door and stared at us hugging. Rossi walked along with her and raised both eyebrows. JJ let me go and stared at my wife in panic like she caught us doing something awful, I don't know why.

- "Everything ok?"- David asked and I shook my head.

- "I just..."- I opened my mouth and kept my eyes on my wife, who looked like she needed an explanation. - "I just got a call from my mom, she was having an episode."

- "What? Seriously?"- (Y/N) seemed as affected as I was by the news.

- "Could you... excuse us for a second?"- I moved to her and held her hand as I walked her out of the room, to a more private place. Rossi and JJ nodded and didn't say a thing, but JJ smiled at me sadly when I looked at her before I closed the door behind my back.

- "What happened? What did she say?"- my wife asked and sat on a desk in the bullpen of the police station. I stood close to her, staring at my hands, and biting my lips, trying not to cry.

- "She thought her friends were taken hostage. She didn't know where she was, she thought it was Las Vegas. I hadn't heard her so lost in months..."

- "Honey..."- my wife wrapped her arms around my waistline and moved me closer to her body. I rested my head on hers and simply sighed. - "You should put an eye on her."

- "I know..."

- "Maybe you could bring her home. Take care of her until we decide what to do next."

- "We have a baby and a toddler. You are under enough stress, I could never..."- (Y/N)'s eyes stopped me from saying another word. She moved and looked at me with such love and care I nearly cry

- "Remember when I said "In sickness and health" while getting married? It didn't just mean your health, but our family as well."

- "Technically, you didn't say that. We wrote our own votes, and you quoted Emily Bronte."- I argued and made her roll her eyes.- "I don't wanna put you through something that I know won't be easy, chipmunk."

- "We are not together just when things are easy, we are stronger when life gets shitty."- my wife whispered and lodged a small kiss on my lips.

- "What did I do to deserve you?"- the question wasn't meant to be said out loud, I just asked myself the same thing at least once every day.

- "You deserve all the good things that happen to you, Spencer."- (Y/N) replied and caressed my cheek as she stood in front of me. - "Now let's work and we'll talk to Prentiss when the case is solved."

We were lucky to wrap up the case in a few hours, so as we flew back home, I made two cups of coffee and walked to our Unit Chief to do the unthinkable.

- "Coffee?"- my voice shook as I stood by her seat and handed her a cup.

- "Oh, you are a lifesaver."- Prentiss replied with a warm smile and I sat in front of her, rearranging the words in my head in the process. And, of course, she noticed.- "What's going on?"

- "I need to take some time off."- my voice was soft as I went straight to the point. I wanted to explain to her what had happened with my mother while she was gone, but at the same time, I didn't want to share more than what I had to with her.

- "Ok. When?"

- "As soon as we get back."- my reply surprised her, her jaw dropped and she kept blinking, processing what I was saying. - "I normally wouldn't do this, especially with everything we have going on and the new agent, but it's my mom. I don't think the clinical trials are helping her."

- "Spence, I'm so sorry."- Em whispered and her hand found mine as she tried to comfort me.

- "I need to see for myself what's happening in Houston, and, you know, talk to the doctors, try to figure out what's next."

- "As you should. Did you talk to (Y/N) about this?"

- "Yes."

- "Are you going alone?"

- "Yes, she has to stay with the kids, and help the team."- Prentiss nodded. I think she could read on my face and gesture how I didn't want my wife to carry the burden of my mother's disease.

- "Listen, we'll be fine. And we'll support (Y/N) with the kids. You take as long as you need."

- "Thank you."- it was the only thing I seemed to be able to say.

- "I have one condition. I need you to check in every day, no matter what. I need to know you're ok."

- "It's understood."- tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall as I fought to keep them at bay. I didn't want to cry in front of Emily, or in front of anyone. I just wanted to get home and put an eye on my mother.

(Y/N) knew I was keeping things to myself. That's why that night, after our babies were in bed, she wrapped her arms and legs around me as we lay on our bed and I immediately buried my head on her chest.

- "You are not alone, Spencer. I love you."- she whispered and kept running her fingers through my hair very slowly.- "Please, let me in."

- "I'm just worried about my mom."- I whispered and bit my tongue.

- "Remember last time something really bad happened and we thought Emily was dead?"- oh no.- "You tried to be the man you thought I needed, kept all your emotions to yourself, and ended up getting Dilaudid behind my back."

- "Chipmunk, I'm not getting Dilaudid."

- "I know, I know. I'm just saying... I don't want you to think you have to be strong for me. I just want you to share how you feel, the way I tell you when life is too shitty for me."- I stayed quiet, all I could hear was the beat of her heart against my ear as she held me close. I knew I had to let my wife in, but I was still very scared she was going to think I was weakling.

- "I don't want to overwhelm you."- that was the best I could do.

- "Give it a try."- she replied.- "I'm with the FBI. I've seen shit."- she replied and I chuckled for a second. She kept me close to her, making me feel like she was able to keep me together. - "We were best friends for many years before we became a couple, and back then you used to tell me everything. Don't hold yourself back now. I'm here to help you, to love you, no matter what."

Those were the words that broke me. I could feel my walls going down as the tears started falling from my eyes.

- "I don't... I don't know how to fix this."- I finally confessed and simply sobbed in my wife's arms, not knowing what else to say, or do. I had no idea what to do with my life, with everything. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help the ones I loved? It was so frustrating and unfair.

- "It's ok, honey bunny."- my wife kissed my forehead and wrapped her arms tighter around me.- "Just let it all out."

I don't know how long I cried in my wife's arms. A part of me felt it was embarrassing, but honestly, it actually made me feel better. I did as she asked and let it all out. All the tears and all the fears.

- "It's just so unfair."- I whispered once I had calmed down a little. (Y/N) had her arms locked around my body and I hid in her neck. - "She already has a mental disease, why did she have to get a second one? Life has been hard enough for her! Now I have to sit here and just watch all of our memories together fade away forever."

- "I'm so sorry, honey."- my wife kissed my face and held me tighter.- "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you."

- "And it's just worse knowing it could be my fate as well."- I confessed and felt like crying again.- "I mean, it's in my genes, like schizophrenia, and we would never know until I start showing the first signs. Or I could have passed it to our babies... and one day they'd..."

- "Shhh, don't go there, honey. Don't. There is nothing we can do about it, not about you, or about our kids. It is what it is and we can't change it."

- "But this is not what you deserve!"- I whined and started sobbing again.- "This is not what I wanted to give you."

- "But I wanted you. All of you. Not just the good part. The hot doctor with all the answers. I wanted this other side too." - I didn't know what to say, so I just sighed and cried as she held me.

- "I wish..."- I whispered after a few seconds.- "Things were easier."

- "We can't complain."- she replied and I could almost hear her sweet smile as she spoke softly.- "So far, we've had fun. We've been healthy, we have smart babies, we've got the chance to travel. We have friends who love and support us. We just need to get a bigger place and we would be peachy."- I chuckled between tears at that last remark.

- "You really wanna move?"

- "Don't act all innocent, we've talked about this before."

- "I know..."- I replied and moved from her neck to look her in the eyes.- "I still have to make peace with the idea of leaving this apartment. But I know we will have to do it eventually"- and she just nodded.

- "We don't have to figure it out all tonight, honey bunny."- and she kissed the tip of my nose. - "How about you try to get some sleep now? You have an early flight tomorrow."- I nodded and sighed as she cuddled me underneath the covers of our bed.

- "I love you so much, ma cherie."

- "I love you more, honey bunny. Thank you for trusting me. I will always be here to help you. No matter what. You don't have to carry any burden on your own."

And as hard as it is for me to realize, she was right. I wasn't alone.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer's departure to Houston wasn't easy. We both knew what he was going to face during that trip, and it was clearly something for longer than just a weekend. Mom helped with the kids, as she usually did, plus Garcia and Emily were my rocks. They took care of the little things I didn't have much time for, like packing my own lunch, helping me clean and even changing a few diapers.

- "I'm not sure this is why you moved from London"- I said to Prentiss one morning she showed up earlier to give me a hand getting the kids ready.

- "I mean, changing baby clothes with vomit wasn't on this year's bingo card, but I'm not complaining."- Em replied as she held Vincent in her arms after finally getting him dressed and we walked to the kitchen.

- "I'm sorry."

- "(Y/N), please. I love to help. It's extra time we get together, and I feel like I've missed so much in the last few years."- Prentiss kissed Vincent's cheek a few times and added- "Garcia kept me updated with the news, but it's not the same as watching your kids grow up. I mean... you and Spencer have two kids already! I feel like it was yesterday you two were in denial of your feelings and we had to push you to face them."

- "Those were the days."- I said as Raven ran into the kitchen holding her bag and opened her arms to me.

- "Up mama!!"

- "Are you ready for school, Birdy?"

- "Yes!"

- "Let's make sure I packed all of your favorite snacks then, and we'll be ready to go."

- "When is dada coming back?"- Raven asked as she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest, completely melted.

- "He will come back very soon, birdy. We should call him tonight and make sure he knows how much we miss him."- I kissed the top of her head, and added some more apple slices with peanut butter in her lunch bag.

- "Can we ask him to read us a bedtime story tonight?"- Raven asked innocently, as she stayed in my arms.

- "Sure! Now let's go to the car before we are too late."

Emily helped me load the car, lunches, kids, and my go bag, which I knew wasn't going to be of any use while Spencer was out of town. I was staying in Quantico, helping from my desk until my husband was back from Texas.

- "See you in a while at the BAU."- my friend said with a big grin after waving goodbye to my kids. - "I have to help Stephen with some paperwork. He is still getting used to this new position."

- "Bye Em, thank you"

Stephen Walker had joined the team the day Spencer left for Houston. He had been transferred from the Behaviour Analysis Program, the BAP. He was charming, with over 20 years of experience working for the Bureau, and a friend of both Prentiss and Rossi. They were thrilled to have him, especially if we considered we were one agent down and I couldn't join them on the field.

Besides, he helped through a very shitty time in the BAU: Rossi's birthday. The man hated that date, and each year we tiptoed around it. That year was even worse considering Tommy Yates, the serial killer he had a deal with on his birthday, was out on the loose. He was supposed to give Rossi the name and location of one victim every day on that date every year, ergo why Papa Pasta hated that date so much. Yates had killed over 40 victims that we knew, but he claimed it had been over 100. I think Rossi felt guilty not to get more names and give peace to the families of so many missing girls. That year, Yates started killing again around Rossi's birthday, and instead of going back to jail, he ended up dead in David's backyard.

I'm sure Rossi will never enjoy his birthday. He will always think of the lives he couldn't save. I get that feeling. No matter how many lives we actually save.

- "Chipmunk, I don't know if I can do this"- Spencer whispered at the other side of the line. He had been gone for two weeks and we were both exhausted. I was lying on our bed, Raven was asleep, softly snoring next to me and Vicent was in my arms as I breastfed him one more time.

- "Why don't you bring her here?"- I suggested one more time. I had told him to do that at least five times since he was away, but he always refused.

- "I told you, it would be too much work."

- "We can handle it! She is my family too and I wanna help."

- "I know, ma cheriè but..."

- "But what?"- Spencer sighed at the other side of the line, clearly trying to gather the right words to explain his mind.

- "I don't think it's fair."- he finally whispered, and that was not what I was expecting to hear.

- "Fair?"

- "Yes..."

- "Life isn't fair, Spencer. You know that."

- "But having to take care of my mother it's not what... it's not the life I wanna give you."- it was a little heartbreaking hearing that. No matter what I did, Spencer still couldn't understand I was there for him, through sickness and health.

- "So you think we are just taking care of your mother?"- I asked him and chuckled.- "Spencer Walter Reid, one day my mom will be sick and old and we will have to take care of her as well, and probably my father too, 'cos Phoenix would never be that kind of son."

- "I am not sure it's the same thing, chipmunk."

- "Hey! My parents could have an awful old age!"- I joked and I could almost hear him smiling as he said

- "It's not a competition, baby"

- "I know it's not! I'm just trying to make you understand this is not a one-way. It's not just me helping you with your mother, we are a team, and we tackle these issues together. Today it's Diana, tomorrow Sofia, who knows!"

- "What about the babies?"

- "What about them?"- I whispered and looked at them. Raven was still asleep, hugging the stuffed unicorn Mikey had gotten her and Vincent was slowly falling asleep against my breast.

- "Having my mom around would make things harder for us and for them as well."

- "We can manage. We are a team. We handle far worse things at work daily. And we can hire a caretaker for your mom. That way she wouldn't be alone while we are out."- there was silence on the line for a few seconds. Spencer was most likely trying to think of all the scenarios that could happen. Until he finally whispered.

- "You are not gonna let this go, are you?"

- "I'm never going to stop fighting to help you, especially when you are being stubborn."- I smiled and bit my lip thinking I just wanted to have him back home as soon as possible so I could hug him and kiss him.

- "I love you, Mrs. Reid."

- "I love you too, Mr. Reid."

Spencer came back on a Thursday. He and Diana took a cab home while I was at work. I got some groceries to make dinner and picked up the kids from my mother's. We turned Vinny's nursery into a guest bedroom for Diana, considering our baby wasn't using it at the moment. We were going to be cramped, but maybe it was the way I could finally convince Spencer to move into a bigger place. A house outside town, where our kids would ride their bikes and play with their friends like I had done growing up.

- "Dada!!"- Raven ran to Spencer as soon as I opened the front door, carrying Vincent and the groceries with me.

- "Birdy! Look at you!"- he held her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, kissing her cheeks and wrapping his arms around her. - "I missed you, Raven."

- "Missed you too, dada"

- "Guess you were just asking for you."- Spencer rushed to me and grabbed the baby carrier with baby Vinny in it from my hands and kissed my lips, still carrying Raven in his arms. He was literally holding his entire family at the same time.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and hummed against his lips as I felt him smile.

- "Where is my beautiful granddaughter?"- Diana's voice took us back to reality. Raven nearly jumped from Spencer's arms and ran to Diana.

- "Memaw!!"

- "Raven Marie Reid, when did you get so tall? You are the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen!"- I smiled as I looked at the sweet scene in front of me. Diana kissed our daughter's cheek and turned to me with one bright smile that slowly turned into a frown.

- "I'm so happy to see you again Diana."- I said with a big smile before I noticed how bad things were going.

- "Whose baby is that?"- she pointed at Vincent with harsh eyes.- "Did you have another baby and never told me? Why are you excluding me?"

- "Mom, mom"- Spencer took a step closer to Diana and softly moved Raven out of the way.- "This is Vincent Spencer Reid, our baby. You've met him before. We actually went on a trip together."

- "Don't try to play me for a fool, Spencer. I had never seen that baby before!"- I moved my arm and grabbed Raven's hand as she looked at the scene unfolding in front of her in pure confusion.

- "Come on Birdy, memaw is tired from the trip. Let's go to your room and play for a while before we make dinner."- she didn't question me, which I will always be thankful for. I walked with her and Vinny and left Spencer alone with his mother, to help her clear her head. If it was even possible.

That brief moment was the first approach to how difficult the following weeks were going to get.

Spencer's point of view

Dealing with my mother was harder than I imagined. And I had imagined the worst. The first night she didn't recognize Vincent and for a solid hour, she argued I had been lying and keeping her in the dark about my family 'cos I was ashamed of her. Ashamed as the time I had put her away in the mental facility when I was eighteen.

And it didn't get easier from there.

While I was away, (Y/N) interviewed some caretakers and selected three. The first one I hired lasted one morning and left before I could even leave the house to get some groceries. She claimed my mother was impossible, and that she couldn't help her. It didn't matter how much I begged and promised she would be good, that poor woman stormed out of the apartment and never looked back.

The second one lasted two days. I was hopeful and even decided to return to work. That morning, Mom looked great. The caretaker arrived and we left to drop the kids at daycare and then drove to work. Me and my wife felt hopeful things were going to work out. We were trying our best, of course, things had to go well.

- "I'm gonna get you a nice cup of coffee."- (Y/N) said as soon as she left her things on her desk, right in front of mine. - "I missed having you here."

- "Trust me, I missed the sight from my desk the most."- I held her hand and stole a small peck from her lips before she walked to the kitchenette, smiling and blushing. I followed her with my eyes for a few seconds before I started unpacking my bag.

- "Hey! Welcome back!"- JJ's voice took me from my task. She sounded happy to see me as I turned around and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

- "I missed you so much!"- I said with a big smile and then turned to her companion. - "You must be Walker"

- "It's great to finally meet you"- he said with a warm smile- "Your wife and the team talk so much about you, Dr. Reid."

- "Please, just call me Spencer. And it's great to finally meet you too, I've heard nothing but wonderful things from you. (Y/N) told me how much of a great addition to the team you've been."- I turned to look at my wife, who was still in the kitchenette, now talking with Anderson.

- "Speaking of wonderful things, how is your mom doing?"

- "She is ok, you know. We have good days and bad days."

- "So, are you still going to Houston to visit her on the weekends?"- but before I could explain there was no need for me to do that anymore, 'cos she was living with us, my cell phone rang.

- "Excuse me"- I said to JJ as I quickly picked up.- "Dr. Reid here."

- "Dr Reid, I need you to come back home! Your mother flooded the entire apartment!"

- "What?"

- "She keeps saying I'm spying on you, and she is locked in the bathroom!"

- "All right, stay there. I'll be right..."

- "Please hurry!"

- "I'm on my way, ok? Thanks."- I didn't even turn to JJ or Stephen, I just mumbled "Sorry, guys, I have to go," as I ran to my wife and grabbed her arm.- "There's an emergency and I have to go home."

- "What happened?"- her eyes were wide opened in a second, alarmed

- "Mom flooded the apartment. The caretaker called me."

- "I'm coming with you!"- but before she could start walking to her desk to grab her thighs, I held her hand and stopped her.

- "No, chipmunk. I'll take care of this.

- "Shit! Take the car!"- she ran to her purse and brought me the keys.- "And if anyone asks, I'll tell them a pipe broke in our apartment, ok?"- I nodded as I felt her hands on my face and her lips on mine, for a short second.

- "Love you."

- "Me too"- she whispered and smiled as I started running again, making my way back home.

The entire place was a disaster. I had to talk with our downstairs neighbors and compromise on paying for any flood damage in their place. The caretaker quit, arguing my mom had threatened to kill her. And my mother had a crisis. I don't think I had ever seen her act that way. She wasn't herself anymore. Clearly, no med was helping her.

- "Is she gone?"- Mom rushed out of the room, almost hyperventilating.

- "Mom, what did you say to her?"

- "She was trying to get information from me. Kept asking questions!"- the way mom slammed our front door and stood against it, like stopping anyone from entering the place (though I knew no one was trying to do it) was... not the worst that happened that day.

- "Of course she was. She's supposed to!"- it was ten in the morning, and I was already losing my patience.

- "I told you to be careful about the people you bring into this house. There are spies everywhere!"- I sighed as I stood in front of her, trying to calm myself down.

- "She's not a spy. She was here to help you."

- "Shh! She might still be out there listening."- she whispered, nearly in tears. She was worse than dealing with my kids, and she was my mother. I had to take several deep breaths to stop me from yelling- "Don't ever let her come back in here again, please. Promise me!"

- "I will promise you that because she is never coming back! She walked out!"- and even though I tried, I ended up screaming anyway, 'cos after a few days, my mom was already driving me crazy.

- "Good. Because we can only trust each other now. Nobody else. Just you and me."

I stared at my mother as she opened the door and peeked out to the hall, to make sure no one was there, spying on us. I already knew delusions may occur in middle- to late-stage Alzheimer's. Confusion and memory loss can contribute to these untrue beliefs, but one thing is knowing the theory and another very different is dealing with your mother in that state.

(Y/N) and I had talked about what to do in that kind of situation. How to handle a crisis. I knew I didn't have to take offense. I had to listen to and try to understand Mom's reality. Never argue or try to convince her. Instead, I had to acknowledge her opinions. But at that minute, all I could think of was "What am I putting my children and my wife through?"

Saying that things were going to be harder than I thought was an understatement. Apparently, I had been in the dark about how bad things were getting for her Alzheimer's... or I had been in denial for a very long time. The second option was more likely the correct answer, though I didn't want to recognize it.

But as they say, denial is not only a river in Egypt. Back then I was sure I could help cure my mother's disease one way or another. I just needed to put my mind to it. I had already gone to the extreme with this thought. Bringing my mother home, going behind my wife's back, and traveling to Mexico with my personal passport instead of my FBI documents to get her some alternative medicine. I was all over the place, and it was showing.

Mom went to her room and I continued cleaning the water mess in our living room. Some of my books were ruined, and some of the kid's toys were all wet. It was overall, a massive chaos I didn't want my wife to witness. And yet, I knew keeping it from her was way worse.

- "Hey honey. How are things going back home?"- (Y/N)'s sweet voice on the other side of the line made me relax my shoulder muscles immediately, almost in relief.

- "It's..."- I looked around and sighed- "It's bad."

- "How bad?"

- "Andrea, the caretaker, quit as soon as I got here."

- "At least she waited for you to get there."- my wife whispered, trying to make me smile, I think.

- "She was the third to leave us in a week."

- "We just haven't found the right one."

- "Stop being so positive, please."

- "What do you want me to say, honey? "Take your mom back to Hustoun?" No way! We are doing all we can to help her! We knew this wasn't going to be easy, and she is just settling in."- my wife paused and sighed.- "Shit, JJ heard me."

- "Where are you?"

- "On the jet. We are going to Tampa."

- "Oh shit, we've got a case."- I rubbed my hand against my face, thinking I was failing the team and my family at the same time.

- "We do."

- "Ok, can I be on speaker during the briefing?"

- "Turn on the computer, I'll have you patch in on video call with Garcia."

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "I miss you."- she whispered and my lips curled up in a tiny smile as soon as I heard her.

- "Me more."- I replied in a lower voice and took a deep breath.

- "Me most. But right now, by the way, JJ is looking at me, I'm guessing I have to explain to the team what is going on back home."

- "Ok chipmunk. I'll be here, waiting for the briefing. Love you."

- "Love you too. Take good care of Diana."

As soon as I picked down the phone, the anxiety kicked in again. That whole day, my entire body didn't seem to relax. I was on edge. My mother stepped from one emotion to another. Each time I talked to her, I didn't know who I was going to deal with. Before I took the call from work for the briefing, she reappeared in the living room and apologized for making that mess.

- "Your books are ruined. And the kid's toys too.."

- "It's ok."

- "No it's not. That's not the grandma I wanted to be for them." - she sighed, holding Raven's soaking teddy in her hands. It broke my heart 'cause I knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

- "You want to maybe lie down for a little while and get some rest?

- "Yes, that's a good idea, honey. I need rest."

But an hour later, when she came back from her nap she was absolutely lost and angry. She didn't recognize her own scrapbook. The one she started in high school. Her eyes were fearful and angry, and her hands kept shaking. She knew who I was, but didn't trust me completely. It was so painful I did the only thing I could think of.

- "It's time for your medicine."- and by medicine, I meant the experimental drugs I had gotten in Mexico behind my wife's back from a doctor I met in Houston, named Nadine Ramos.

- "No. No. It tastes terrible. What if it's poison?"- Mom started arguing right away, and I had to hold both her hands to try to calm her down.

- "Mom, it's not poison. Remember when you first started taking it in Texas? It helped. You felt so good that we were able to go on that trip to San Antonio."- she just stared at me, with a blank expression on her face. I used my softest voice, to try and help her calm down.- "It's not poison. Just wait right here."- I added and walked quickly to my and (Y/N)'s room. I had hidden the bottles in a sock in my drawer, which was clearly a sign I was doing something wrong by keeping it a secret. I added three drops to a glass of orange juice and gave it to her. Mom just stared at me, suspicious. Like I would poison her.

- "Are you going to stand there and watch me?"- she asked seriously

- "Yes."- I replied and smiled at her, 'cos there was a part of it all that was funny. My grown-up mother acted exactly like my four-year-old daughter would. She drank the whole glass, looking disgusted by it, and then opened her mouth to show me she had swallowed it all.

- "You don't have to do that."- I almost chuckled as she did, but then, she broke my heart.

- "Of course I do. I have to do whatever you want."- and just like that, she locked herself in her room again.

While she was away working on a case, (Y/N) called the agency and managed to get another caretaker to come home for an interview with me for the position. Of course, my mother was a complete disaster around her, threw a tantrum and left, slamming the door behind her back as she left me talking on my own.

Luckily, nurse Cassie Cambel was an angel, and decided to take the position and help us with my mother despite the awful first impression mom made. She was aware of how challenging things were and didn't hesitate. She even said she would get someone to take the night shifts. She gave me hope. I called my wife as soon as she was gone and gave her the good news. Then worked the case for a while and talked to the team, because no matter what was happening at home, we were still trying to catch a serial killer.

And it was all good for a good hour until I realized there was something odd going on, Mom had been quiet for too long. That's always a bad sign with the kids, and I figured it was also a bad sign with my mother.

When I finally found her, locked in our ensuite bathroom, she was throwing the medicine I had struggled to get in Mexico for her.

- "Mom, don't do that! Don't do that! Stop that!"- I nearly jumped and tried to take the bottles from her hands, but the liquid was mostly gone.

- "Leave me alone! Stop, stop! Give it back to me! Ohh!"- Mom was yelling and fighting as if her life was in danger. I fought to stop her, but it was useless. We ended up fighting for them on the bathroom floor. I didn't want to hurt her, but she kept holding onto those glass bottles and screaming. She finally gave up but stood up and ran to the door, trying to escape our apartment. I followed her and stopped her by the door. I grabbed her waist and then her wrist, trying to make some sense of what was happening.

- "Mom! Why did you do that? Why?!"

- "I hate that stuff! And I hate you!"- she yelled with so much anger that if I didn't know how sick she was, I would have been brokenhearted.

- "Do you have any idea what I went through to get that medicine, Mom?"- I yelled at her with the same amount of anger for a second, but I did my best to gather myself and try to talk to her in a softer tone. - "It can't be replaced. Do you realize that?"

- "Good! I want to go back home!"- she yelled as tears of desperation started falling from her eyes

- "This is home!"

- "No, it isn't! I want to go back to where I was before!"- she pleaded, like a little girl

- "You said you hated Houston!"- I screamed, frustrated by the entire conversation.

- "No, I want to go back to where I was before before! Before!"- she let go of my hands aggressively and slapped me right on the cheek. She stared at me with such anger, that I knew she wasn't herself. Still, it hurt. She raised her hand to hit me again and I stayed still, not arguing, not fighting back. Leaving my cheek right there, so she could hit me one more time, and all the times she'd like.

Some things never change. Especially the bad ones, I guess. When I was a kid, I had grown used to her episodes. How she sometimes hurt me. I knew she didn't mean to, so I never held any hard feelings against her. But it was a painful flashback of my childhood. One I didn't want my kids to grow up with.

During our fight, I managed to save one tiny bottle of medicine. One wasn't going to help much, which meant I had to get more. I didn't know if that medicine was actually helping her. I didn't know what could. The fact was, I was desperate and I would have done anything to help bring my mother back to herself.

If that had happened a few years earlier, when I was still single, still living on my own, I would have flown to Mexico in the blink of an eye, no questions asked. But at that moment, "anything" had some limits. And those limits came with my wife and my two kids. I had to think carefully about what I was going to do next. 'Cos I couldn't hurt them.

My phone buzzed on the table and I sighed. We were still working on a case, and I had to focus. But I was wronged. It wasn't case-related. It was JJ.

- "I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to."- I read those words and replied "Thank you" text and stared at her words on the screen for a little while. I knew things hadn't been easy in the last few years, but it felt so good to have a friend like JJ and a family in the BAU. At least we weren't alone. I knew my wife was with them and they were going to support and comfort her. Us. They got our backs.

- "Well, that was just what I needed."- my mother's voice took me from my thoughts. She walked out of the hall and smiled at me. I looked at her, confused from the dining room table, where I was trying to get some work done.

- "Uhmm..."

- "My nap. It really did the trick."- she explained and gasped, standing next to a couch. - "Oh, my goodness. My scrapbook. Oh, I've been keeping this since I don't know when. I have no idea how it got here.

I just stared at her in silence. She seemed to be herself. She knew who I was, and where she was and even got excited to see her old scrapbook. Was it the medicine? Was it the nap? What made that change?

- "Ohh, honey. What did you do to your face? It's all red."- and she had no recall of what had happened

- "Probably bumped into something."- I used the same old excuse I always used when she noticed any bruises on me growing up.

- "Oh, you need to be more careful. It's really awful."- she carefully touched my face as she sweetly smiled, and stood in front of me, holding her scrapbook close.

- "I will."- I whispered

- "You know, you always were so clumsy. Smart as a whip. But I used to call you Crash. You were always bumping into things."- mom told me the story of how I hid how much she hurt me from her, and walked to the closest couch. I stared at her, trying to understand why this was happening to her, and how I could stop it. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help my own mother?

- "Honey, what is this?"- she asked after a few minutes in silence.

- "Oh, it's a ticket stub."- I said as I sat next to her on the sofa arm

- "What is that?"

- "A ticket stub? When you go to a concert or a movie you get a ticket so they'll let you in. (Y/N) has a large collection with all the ticket stubs of the shows she has been to."

- "Maybe I could help her make a scrapbook with those."- Mom suggested and smiled at me- "She is so sweet, letting me stay here with you and the kids."

- "I'm sure she'd like that."- I replied and kissed the top of her head. She turned the page and kept staring at her memories.

- "You saw Elvis in concert?"- I asked her, surprised. That sounded like a good story I had never heard.

- "I don't know. I did many things when I was young."- she simply replied. - "Who is he?"

- "Elvis Presley."- I explained, disappointed that her memory was failing again. - "He's a very famous rock and roll singer."- all her memories were fading and I couldn't stop it even if I tried. What a failure of a genius son.

- "Ah! Oh, my gosh!"- she got incredibly excited all of a sudden and pointed at the cutting of a tightrope walker with something glued to it. - "I'd almost forgotten about this!"

- "What is that?"- her excitement made me smile, I hadn't seen my mother that happy the entire day.

- "When you were a little boy, I took you to the circus, and after that, all you could talk about was that you wanted to be a tightrope walker when you grew up."- that story didn't ring any bell in my head.

- "I thought I wanted to be a magician."

- "You did. That was later. This was first."

- "Really? I don't remember that at all."- was she making it up? Was it real? I wanted to think she knew exactly what she was talking about.

- "Oh, no wonder. You were no more than 3 or 4!"

- "What's on its head?"- I asked her, pointing at the scrap. And she just laughed.

- "It's you!"

- "That's me?"- I moved to take a closer look, and yes, it was a tiny picture of me, glued to the clipping.

- "Yes. You glued that on there yourself."

- "Why did I do that?"

- "Well, here."- Mom grabbed my hand and showed me my wrist. - "See this little scar right there on your wrist? That's from when you fell when you were trying to balance on our backyard fence. You were so determined to make it the whole way. And I'll never forget looking out the kitchen window, watching you out there as you were trying to make a balancing pole from a broomstick. Calculating how long it should be and making adjustments. My little budding genius."

Mom caressed my arm as she told me that story, and it warmed my heart hearing her telling it in so much detail as she could actually see me. And the fact she had said the words "I'll never forget" as if it was some kind of promise. Like she could decide which memories she could keep and which ones to let go.

- "Did I ever make it?"- I asked her, I needed to know more about that story.

- "No. And you were heartbroken. You see, the problem was, you were so smart, you were so brilliant, you really believed that you could solve anything if you just put your brain into it. But that tightrope... No, you just couldn't figure that out. But you were meant for bigger things, Spencer. Now, how do you tell that to a 4-year-old boy?"

How could I tell that to my 35-year-old self? There are things I can't figure out, no matter how smart. Maybe I should have made my peace with that thought earlier.

Later that night, I brought my mom a cup of tea when she was already in bed. And she didn't know who I was. I didn't know how I was going to do it. Help her and keep my own mental sanity in the process. How much should I tell my wife? She was going to find out anyway, no questions asked. I shouldn't keep her in the dark, life had shown me that had always been the wrong path to follow.

I don't know what time it was when I felt (Y/N)'s hand on my arm. I had fallen asleep on a rocking chair close to the bed and had tied one end of a scarf on mom's wrist and the other to mine, so I would know if she moved. My wife smiled at me and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and caressed her cheek. - "I missed you."

- "Me too, hon..."- she hummed and kissed me one more time. - "Wanna have a cup of tea and tell me about your day?"

- "Why don't you get some rest first? You are just getting home..."- I whispered and untied the scarf from my wrist to walk her out of the room. - "Where are the kids?"

- "I asked my mom to take care of them for the night. I was coming late and I didn't want to take them out in the middle of the night."

- "That was a good choice."

- "So, how was your day? And be honest."- my wife stood in front of me and I just sighed.

- "It was... challenging."

- "You can give me the real version, Spencer Walter Reid, I can take it."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she stood in front of me, in the middle of the hall. I tried to find the right words to explain to my wife about my day. But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I broke down into tears and fell into her arms. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

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[cryptid-killjoy]

Everything was going wild. Everything seemed fun and pretty typical until they couldn't decide if they should try and cover up the body or not. The Laveaus weren't the types to let a little crash and burn disrupt their fun. It was all part of it. Anywhere else they understood the usual rules though. They knew the aftermath murder code. Autopilot had a way of taking over. Still, if they could get away with not doing things the methodical way they'd take the out.

Scout was focused on her phone waiting her dad's answer out. Grinding someone down and eating them up was a messy and time consuming task. If they could get out of it they'd like to know for sure. Logic was telling them maybe in Feral where rules were lax it might just be okay to not go through the usual precautions. They also didn't want to do anything wrong and upset their hosts either. They just weren't used to the Feral rules, if there were any.

While all these converstions were going on between Koda, Chip, and Dale, and Jetsam not giving two shits all hovered over the stranger digging one of their eyes right out of it's sockets. Old habits died hard. He might have been dead but he noticed they were a cool color and couldn't help but want to harvest them as if he might add them to the collection he didn't have anymore. Maybe he'd start a new one?

"Weenie-balls." He was laughing. "That's the name of my new collection. I'll get a new set every Halloween. Keep 'em at your place, Chipper."

Scout broke in, "I can do it. I can keep them for you, Dad." She was trying so hard to be a part of it still wanting to be a part of his life as she watched Jet shove the wet thing into Chip's hand.

Then there was Koda who was trying to hold up under Chip's arm since he'd just been through a wreck. Chip was also still in slow-mode. Zombie-ish mode. His reflexes weren't back. He was looking at Scout like he wanted to respond but nothing was coming out. Jetsam took his silence as a yes because his hand held onto the eyeball unable to do much more quite yet.

Then there was GoGo. She came in and Dale was gazing at the sky when she came in out of nowhere and Smack!

Incoming.

Thack!

"Hey?!"

GoGo went off. She was practically barking at him. She kept going.

Dale's sore arms went up trying to protect himself but it was too late. She'd already hit him before he managed to sheild himself at all. A bloody third WOMP.

"Damn it!" Dale's body rolled and cringed away ready to jump up and ... and do... do something... he wasn't sure what... stop her he supposed but she stopped herself as he managed to roll over onto his side.

Scout stared at her as Dale managed to push himself off the ground holding his ribs, covered in the dismembered arm's splattered blood, and got his feet. It happened so fast. It had every hair on the back of her neck standing straight up. Then GoGo even yelled it out. Something about loss. It was bone chilling.

Once Dale was on his feet he limped over, red faced, wide eyed.

Dale's initial reaction was anger. Pain and anger.

Then he saw her face.

Okay, maybe he was still angry, but fuck. Then he just pushed through the pain, stormed through it actually. He hadn't wanted to move at all. The adrenaline had made him jump up and next when he saw her face, he rushed forward and forced a hug on her.

"Fuck you. Are you trying to finish me off, GoGo?"

Damn, the hug hurt. Yelling hurt. Breathing hurt. He didn't care. He squeezed her in.

"Fuck you so hard."

He groaned over her shoulder, "You push me away. I'll squeeze harder. So fuck right off. I'm staying here."

All Scout could see was the fragility of human life, something she wasn't anymore. It was scarier than it used to be. It was the sort of subject she never thought about until her family fell apart. They used to feel so indestructible. Thomas built it back up so strong. She wasn't sure what this feeling was watching her brother and GoGo. Next to them was her zombie bit brother touched by death who caused the crash. Next to them was her actually dead parental who she'd been dying to see for years now, missing him, and conflicted feelings were still stirring. She watched him not pay attention fully focused on gouging out that second retina from the socket.

Before she could get much deeper in those thoughts her phone went off and Thomas's text came in. It shook her back to the present.

"Okay guys. Dad says it's not a big deal to just dump it here. GoGo's probably right. We can just blame it on a zombie. Looks like we don't have to take the time out for disposal here. We're good guys." She said taking the lead on the situation which under normal circumstances would have been a much bigger situation had they been anywhere else.

Jetsam stood up with his second eyeball in his hand grinning, "Told ya guys. Fuck it all." Then he kicked the corpse's eyeball-less head.

She saw Koda looking behind him and she gave him a little peace sign with her fingers, bursting the bubble with her tongue. She watched her own rearview mirror and playfully moved to swerve next to the VW, her open window meaning that she could reach across and ruffle Dale’s curls.

After that, GoGo sped on ahead, feeling her groove the same way that Kuzco did when he had a guitar in hand, the same way that Valerie did with a microphone, the same way that Delta did when she had her wings out, the same way Frank did as he kicked at a suspended reporter, making his body sway on the hooks while he read.

GoGo had been a girl who fell in love with cars, a real engine geek, and didn’t have much love left over for people. Not even her family. Once it was clear that they weren’t going to understand her, that they were going to try to dictate her life as if she was anyone else, she had given up on them. They became roommates. They didn’t do family dinners, or going out together, or even celebrations of birthdays.

It had taken a while for the Laveaus to permeate through that. It wasn’t even as if Go-Go had big walls up, the way that Elsa did, trying to protect herself or thinking that she was protecting others. She just hadn’t even realized that there was a door that they could even knock on. But it had opened and - now, she couldn’t imagine a world without them, the same way she couldn’t imagine a world without cars.

Loud music coming out of stereos, the noises blending together during the split seconds that they were near one another. Her eyes would dart over to see who it was, and would make faces over at Scout if it was her, and then would chuckle to herself. Her heart was beating with the engine, almost feeling like they were one. As she went up in speed, plowing through a zombie or two, only flipping on the windshield wipers as her reaction, she thought to herself, ‘This is better than masturbating.’

Unlimited speed. No cops. No sirens. No one telling her to slow down. If someone got in the way, hit them. This is just what the Autobahn must be like.

The sounds of gunshots weren’t even unwelcome. They echoed through the empty streets, with no one looking out windows, or running for cover. They would be heard up from the tower, where Frank and Delta were busy, but weren’t bothering them much either. As long as it wasn’t pointed towards them, or their people, Frank didn’t give a fuck. He was too deep in … well, a fuck.

She would have kept going when Dale was out of the window, but realized a moment or two later when there weren’t any more headlights in her rearview mirrors. Curiously, she turned her own car around and encroached on the scene. She had her own window down and climbed out through her window, exactly like Dale had been sitting when he had been ejected.

It was rough seeing Dale laying on the ground, like a piece of roadkill. It was rough seeing Chip behind the crumpled hood of the car, the windshield broken, pieces of glass. It triggered something in her. She couldn’t move for a moment. It felt like she was underwater. She could just about hear the garbled voice of Dale talking to Scout, and Chip’s eyes being open as Koda got him out of the car.

Tadashi. The outline of him, the silhouette, against the fire as he had run in like he thought that he was fireproof. Like he was immortal. Like he was a goddamn hero. The situations were different but the feelings were the same in that moment, a clenching around her heart and her stomach, a sense of loss. Everyone was, thankfully, preoccupied with the twins and the body and texting while she had her moment or two of panic before she felt like she was able to breathe again.

She wasn’t thinking the clearest though. She climbed off of the car door, walking around the glass-littered ground, the blood-soaked asphalt in her bare feet, and approached Dale, still on the ground. The panic was still in her eyes, the tenseness of her bones, all of it. And what she did was lean down and gave Dale’s head a smack.

“You don’t get to come close to dying, do you hear me?” She said, and then realized that her own little hand was barely going to do anything to Dale’s head, not through those curls anyway. She took a short march towards the dead body, picked up an arm that had been driven over, detatched at the shoulder, and then used that arm to hit Dale again. “You stupid, egg-headed shitpuddle!”

After hitting him a third time with the arm, she threw it down and then ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face to try to calm herself, taking deep breaths. “I’m not losing another friend,” She said in a quieter tone this time. It was only then that she seemed to realize what she had done. That there was a detatched arm beside her that had been attached to a body only seconds ago. She leaned down and then wiped her hand on Dale’s shirt because she wasn’t going to do it to her own dress.

While this was happening, Scout’s phone would get a text. Thomas was paying attention to his drunk wife, but also to his phone because he had meant what he had said when he offered to pick Ches up, all she had to do was text. Same with Scout, but that went without saying.

‘If Chip doesn’t want to eat it, I’m sure just tossing it into a sewer or something is fine? Just don’t leave a big mess.’

Go-Go was coming down from that short-lived panic attack. It hadn’t gone full blown, just enough for her to go full-throttle rather than her more subdued self. She was a bit embarrassed so decided to gloss over what she had just done rather than address it, and move onto the next topic.

“If anyone asks, zombies did it?”

[thefallenangel2008]

I came up with new stuff about my take on the Relativity Falls AU! Ok, so, I talked about it here (and here are some design choices in case y'all are interested). Although these are with Bill like he is in cannon because I hadn't come up with that idea yet but these were mostly concept plans for this AU, SO IT'S OK.

ANYWAY, so, at first I thought about leaving Bill kinda the same, but at school I was blessed with enlightenment by the gods of hyperfixation and I realized. I COULD SWAP HIM WITH CANDY. AND HERE'S WHY.

Okay, so, I think you remember that in the show there was an episode in season 2 where Stan took the twins plus Candy and Grenda on a road trip and Candy had a crush on Dipper which was one-sided on her part. And it reminded me of how in Billford the feelings are one-sided on Bill's side after the betrayal (whether those feelings are romantic or pet-owner thing is unclear, but yeah). So I thought to myself "What if Candy saw Dipper, was fascinated by him and his nerdiness and also figured he could help her with her plans for Weirdmageddon (of whichever the motives I'm still trying to think)?" And then Candy would actually fall in love with Dipper while Dipper stayed the same. He would of course be fascinated by her but he wouldn't have developed any romantic feelings towards her. Just admiration.

I feel like she would also like pain like Bill but because humans feel pain differently than her kind does, it would be mostly because of interest and for experiments. She would be mad at Dipper after the portal incident and him giving up but would try not to show it (much), so when Dipper would fall asleep she would possess his body and work on repairing the portal (and maybe slap his face and stab a few objects on his arms for leaving her after he found out her plans) until Dipper got that metal plate inserted.

Also Candy would be a circle. I came up with that thing mostly so that Mabel can joke about knowing that her brother liked curves, lol. Btw Dipcifica is happening because I swapped Pacifica and Fiddleford together (and in this after the Northwest family kicked Pacifica out they left Gravity Falls out of shame that one of them lost her mind, and the mansion was empty until the Mcgucket family, a rich, country family moved in. I might change that bit, idk).

Also, since I swapped Candy and Bill, I thought about Bill and Stan being friends, but their canon rivalry is just too funny to pass up so maybe whoever swaps with Grenda (maybe Pyronica? I low-key like that. If I keep that idea her name will change to Veronica or Pyronica is gonna be a nickname cause she would like arson) will be trying to make them boys get along, and the only reason Bill wouldn't leave would be because that person is his only friend. One reason why Stan would hate Bill (other than him being a spoiled little brat) is because he likes his brother and Stan KNOWS he's gonna be a bad boyfriend for Ford. Also Bill and Fidds would have some beef (Robbie and Dipper kinda vibes) because they would be both crushing on Ford while Ford would remain completely oblivious and be head over heels for Manly Dan (who is swapped with Wendy).

But Ford would be fascinated by Bill because he would know how to do magic tricks. Bill in this is VERY Helga Pataki codded because his parents would be mostly focused on his successful, normal, with-no-eye-deformities older brother Steve (yes, I came up with it rn while writing it, and yes, I'm putting Pyramid Steve there CAUSE I CAN) and because he would hide his true feelings for Ford (everyone knows but Ford). Bill wouldn't outright bully Ford, but sometimes Ford would wonder if Bill likes him or pretends to because he's "friends" with Stan due to the jokes he makes.

Bill would come from a kinda wealthy family and his parents would give him everything he wanted (except their attention) which is why Stan calls him spoiled. Bill here also has a false schizophrenia diagnosis because when he was little he would say he saw some weird stuff (they're real cause, yk, it's Gravity Falls) and he takes a bunch of medicine, both for schizophrenia and anophthalmia (which is a rare condition where you're born with only one eye. Bill hides his missing eye behind his hair). The medicines make him feel drowsy, and like he's not really there, but he's good at masking it behind a wide smile and a cocky personality.

At some point Bill will come to the conclusion that he doesn't deserve Ford because he can be so kind, and sweet, and understanding (everything that he's not) so he would (begrudgingly) let Fidds have Ford and step out of the unofficial "contest".

One last thing, I'm swapping Soos with Durland and Melody with Blubs.

[blablablabla-ur-mom]

Every day that we get closer to tgr being released, I become.e just a little more unhinged. So here is my theory for Jeremy's backstory and elodie maybe being alive.

(This has no real chance of being canon but hey we got tsc through being delusional. )

So we know Jeremy has an older brother (gonna call him Joe for convenience cuz I forgot his name) that he avoids like the plague, and Stuart said elodie was bought by an arms dealer.

Young teen Joe joined a gang in secret and quickly started working his way up the ranks. Now one of the gangsters had a friend on the other side of the world, that happened to sell guns. This friend is the arms dealer that bought elodie.

A little while before the banquet, the arms dealer visits his friend. Joe tracks him down and tries to buy a weapon

The dealer refuses because reasons and instead Joe waits for him to meet up with his friend and steals a gun.

Joe does who knows what with the gun, and soon realizes that he just fucked with an arms dealer. So he tries to pin it on his little brother Jeremy.

Jeremy, who is at the banquet, is completely oblivios to his older brother sneaking in and planting an unregistered firearm into his bag. He is completly unaware when event security walks up and tells him he has to leave. Then he's at the station, shaking his head because he doesn't know how a gun got into his bag he doesn't now how any of this happened! But the police don't believe him and in the end his parents have to do a lot of shit to cover this up. The dealer knows better than to go after him because he is a governors son. And Jeremy never again trusts cop because how the fuck did they not see the guilty look on his brothers face.

I made a previous post about elodie being alive and one of the responses said she may have been bought to be used as target practice. I hate this idea but I'm running with it.

Flash forward a few years and elodie is 14/15. She is malnourished, covered in scars from bullets she could not dodge, and is barely there. But she is a Moreau, and she will endure. She will endure until her captors either kill her, or she finds a way out and back to her family. Not her parents, but the brother that was taken from her, he is her only family, the only thing that has kept her going these long years.

one day, she hears gunshots, not unusual but the amount of shots is. And there men grabbing her and taking her somewhere, and she's kicking and screaming because she thinks this is the end. Then they put something over her mouth and everything goes dark.

She wakes up in a hospital room with two strange men sitting across from her. They're speaking a language she doesn't understand and have to bring in a translator. They ask for her name but takes a few moments for the translator to understand her because of how hoarse her voice is. "My name is Elodie Moreau"

She finds out her brother sold out their family, that the fbi have been investigating her family and the contact her mother sold her too. She finds out Jean is alive.

Jean and Jeremy are at home when they get a knock at the door. It's an agent and he saying Jean has to come with him. Instead of taking Jean to the building where they took his confesion, they take him to a hospital. He's confused for all of a second when he steps into the room. Then he sees her. The sister he thought he'd lost is sitting there. To anyone else she would have been unrecognizable, but he knows. He kniws because he's dreamt if seeing those very same gray eyes again for years. She may be covered in wretched scars that make him want to throttle his parents, but she's there.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

What is chained -Chapter 1

Summary: There was a dream named Rome, and saving it doesn't always mean to chop heads off.

Words: 1677

Characters: Marcus Acacius, emperor Geta, emperor Caracalla and others.

Chapter 1: Taraxia -Disturbance

Any man who has been to sea knows that, when a storm approaches, it is preceded by a shivering calm where silence and stillness are only the desperate cry of an inevitable terror. The air becomes salty, suffocating, the sails hang lifeless, the oars are stowed. And so Acacius thought of his own ship as the slaves loaded their belongings into a wide cart, pulled by a beautiful Gaul steed with its shaggy ankles and curly mane. Lucilla watched, paralyzed with anger from the porch, her hands wringing a sprig of lavender as she struggled not to cry. Her father said that what a free man earns should not be taken from him without cause, but her brother would have sadly agreed with his successors, those two little red-haired devils. Acacius turned away, once he had signaled to the servants that they could retire, and approached the woman with what he considered a reassuring face, which he well knew was not going to do much good. It broke his heart to provoke her to so much distress, but he knew, for that is only learned through years of iron and blood, that refusal would have been worse. “I'll be fine,” he told her, reaching out a hand to stroke her face. Lucilla closed her eyes, bowing her head over the powerful hand that tried to comfort her “Listen, give me a week, two maybe, I'll send messages in the meantime and then… I'll negotiate with the senate. They'll be reasonable, once they see results.”

Lucilla sighed, looking at him defeated. “I never wished this for you, and look at you…you're being sent into the jaws of wolves.” “I'll be able to handle them, you trust, don't you trust me?” he said it lightly, smiling, but his wife didn't play along. “When you raise your sword I do not fear for you, but these… enemies… how will you defend yourself if…?” “With the senate. One word from me and they will regret it. Please…” he added in desperation, giving her a kiss on the cheek, "trust, I know what I'm doing, or at least Gracchus does.’ It was all part of a defensive plan, Acacius said to himself after saying goodbye to Lucilla, riding with his things in the wagon that was taking him to his destiny, was that destiny? he wondered as he left his villa back to the scandal of the city. No celebrations, no making the matter public, that was the decision of the good Gracchus, a great and loyal friend of his wife and her father, so as to avoid angering the demons. It was true that in any case, the demons were already angry. Thraex was still trying in vain to reassure them when the cart stopped at the palace stables, so that Acacius barely set foot when he had clear duties to perform.

“General, I thank the gods you made it” whined the man, exiting through a double door from which could be heard shouts of two men fighting loudly. Acacius looked with exasperation at the door.

“They didn't take kindly to the news, I'm afraid.”

“No way, they're a wild beast, when I told them I thought they were going to kill me.”

Acacius was already used to Thraex hypersensitivity, so he didn't take it so seriously either, and walked through the double doors as if he had just entered an enemy barracks.

On one side, there was Geta, using one of those platters for exotic meats as a shield, and at the other end, his face so reddened that it showed under the heavy makeup, Caracalla, whose raging voice had become so high-pitched that Acacius thought he was going to summon bats.

“You can't tell me what to do!” he shrieked, waving a narrow-mouthed vase varnished in gold.

“I know, I know, I just want you to listen to me, if you keep going on like that...!”

“Do you think I care, I've never been insulted... like that...!”

Geta turned his head and met Acacius, his expression soured but he did nothing but clench his jaw, Caracalla instead dropped the vase - which shattered - and went running towards him, his brother unable to stop him; the older one clenched his muscles in case he rammed him, but the little twin was reduced to stopping a good few feet away, pointing a finger at him as he groaned:

“Et tu, Justus?”

“Calm down, you're embarrassing yourself,” Geta warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Acacius relaxed, he detested them both in equal parts, but ruefully admitted that the older twin was a bit more reasonable. “Your Majesties… I see the patrician Thraex has already informed you of the news in the senate.” “News? You call that news?” shrieked Caracalla, wincing ”They have mocked us, that's what they did, and you participated!” “If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else, my lord, and perhaps someone less sympathetic and more… interested in the privileges to be obtained than in the good of you and Rome” continued the general. “I don't know if you haven't noticed but we are no longer children, general” Geta rebuked him, still holding his brother ”We have ruled this empire for years, since we were very young, back then no one cared about our decisions and suddenly…” “You must understand, your majesties, that the people of Rome are no longer as they were in the time of Marcus Aurelius” at the old emperor's mention, Caracalla grimaced and Geta rolled her eyes, ”when the common people were… easily satisfied because they had all they could ask for. The empire is larger, yes, but not stronger or more prosperous.” "How are they not satisfied? We give them parties, shows, military victories, what more do they want?” hinted Geta, supported by his twin who nodded vigorously. Acacius made an effort not to change his expression, that was worse than talking to an infant.

“Yes, but none of it brings food to their tables or fire to their homes. Not all of them are nobles, or wealthy dynastic providers. That's why... that's why the senate has decided...”

“Yes, yes, we know! A curator...” The tone of contempt was not lost on the general.

“See this better as a... advisor in the face of the people” he tried. Acacius regretted not knowing how to speak with the astute finesse of politicians, just now a little lip service would do him good. “If I am always at their majesties' side and... advise them on matters of the people, nothing more, then the people will perceive you as... more... approachable.”

His brain was struggling to find the right words, and he wished he had Lucilla with him, she would surely know how to explain them better. Meanwhile, on the twins' faces there was an identical internal struggle. It was Caracalla who spoke first:

“Who was the idiot who suggested this plan? It couldn't have been you” He said it as if the very idea mortified him.

“No, I certainly don't know, the senate communicated to me only the decision... and that they voted for me as your... advisor.”

“And well, will you be glued to us at all hours? Will you follow us everywhere to tell us how to do our work, general?” asked Geta.

“Their majesties know that I don't know about politics. Of war, on the other hand...”

Yes, he thought suddenly, now that he could explain.

“Come, please, I want to show their majesties something” he requested as politely as he was able, approaching one of the exquisitely narrow windows. The twins followed him, wary. “See out there? Beyond those marble statues and those white steps…that's Rome, your subjects. Tell me, if you were down there, like them, arguing in the marketplace over the prices of a bit of garum and taking your boots to be darned for the third time in the year, how would you feel?” None answered, it seemed too existential a question for their brains. “The enemy can become an ally, if conquered…and it must not always be through violence. You want those people at your feet? You will have to win them back. That's what I'm here for.” The thought brought a strange smile to the twins' faces. Geta, the sharpest, nodded. “Ah, I understand… you'll make them love us, won't you? They adore you, how they get when they see you marching in your chariot! They almost deafen us, don't they?” he asked, turning to Caracalla. “Oh yes, good General Justus, they would make you emperor if they could…” he added with venom.

"Well then, if your majesties would offer your help, I could… well, I would take this matter very seriously. My duty…” he felt a shudder as he said it, "is for Rome to love you once more." That seemed to be enough for Geta, at least he was calmer. Caracalla however continued to insist. “What's in it for you, general? You already have a beautiful house, a noble wife, a superb horse… what more could you want?” Acacius thought it was amusing that the boy spoke to him as if he could bargain. “I do it for Rome, the people I swore to protect and glorify. Nothing more.” “Well… they certainly haven't announced the matter with fanfare” Geta commented, thoughtfully ”We would have expected you to arrive with full honors, a little party for your appointment…”

“No way, I'm not doing it for my own benefit and besides, it would be improper for me to have a party for such a thing. Too many parties would anger the people.”

“Especially since they are not invited” reasoned Caracalla with a silly chuckle ”Yes, yes, that's all very well, I think we can survive this. Don't overdo it, General, and I don't see why we shouldn't get along.”

“Excellent.”

Acacius took his leave, in order to go to his assigned quarters. Part of being curatormeant that he had to live in the palace, the one thing he abhorred most about that job; if Lucilla wasn't so friendly with Gracchus he would punch him in the face for getting him into that mess, but he would have time to ruminate on his frustration, perhaps later in the bath when he could relax as well. For now he had to go back to being the general, and come up with a strategy for this unequal war.

[ambrosia-vinca]

As funny as Spite is when he's being a chaotic gremlin who wants to eat candles and is jealous of Curiosity's feet, I'd like to see his dangerous side being explored more, along with the dangers of possession.

Possession is a big deal. We see it in Anders, whose anger and past trauma twists Justice into Vengeance, and their emotions being intertwined creates an endless feedback loop of misery and obsession until Anders can't stop himself from doing something drastic, very similarly to Solas. They have different goals/ideals, but they have similar (near) unstoppable drive to fulfill their perceived purpose no matter what the people around them say, a purpose that sends them hurtling along a road paved with destruction. Anders at the end of DA2 is very similar to a pure spirit/demon in the sense that his purpose is pretty much all that he is, consumed with the need to liberate mages and avenge them against chantry and templar oppression (also a similar flavor to Mythal in a way. Benevolence (help people) -> Retribution (avenge people))

Spite as an emotion can have a positive effect for a person (succeeding/persevering out of spite), but it's not a positive emotion. Spite as a demon is a creature of pettiness/anger/resentment, a cousin or brother to Vengeance pretty much. Spite physically hurts Lucanis (only once that we actually see in the actual game and I would have liked it to be a more recurrent/tangible problem) when he doesn't get his way. He attacks Illario and would have killed him if he had his way. He doesn't process emotions as mortals do, so outside of anger/resentment etc, he doesn't really get genuine affection or love or any positive emotion that isn't motivated by hurting people and/or not doing what they want, because again, he's a being of raw emotion with a specific realm of purpose.

So what about Lucanis and Spite? Does them being intertwined change Lucanis' personality in any way? Enhance his anger? Make him more determined than he already is, but also less able to forgive? Does Spite change because of Lucanis in any way? Does it make his emotions or thought processes more complex? Is the particular way they were bound together, different from Anders' willing possession, make them more separate entities, considering Anders basically absorbed Justice until they were fused together? Does spending time outside of the Fade let Spite learn like it did for Cole, even if their situations were different, without changing his core nature?

The “learning” part is kind of alluded to in the hardened Lucanis path where he wants to find a way to part with Spite once he's done with his contract, and Rook can mention that Spite might have evolved because he's a demon who's “learned to work alongside people” (or something to that effect). I would have liked a bit more of that topic in both paths for Lucanis. Spite likes Rook when they're being vengeful or making dark jokes, because they're acting in a way that pleases his nature, and he does ends up trusting them/being fond of them in his own way. Is he also partly influenced by Lucanis' emotions and fondness for Rook (whether friendship or romance, without truly being able to feel or understand these emotions for himself)?

I feel like Lucanis' possession is simultaneously presented as a big deal but also doesn't end up having much of an effect in the grand scheme of things. Spite was introduced as a threat and treated as one in the scene with Illario, but he's written as a very lukewarm demon otherwise and he doesn't feel very dangerous at all. I would have liked more from him, more details, more possible negative consequences, more actual danger to Lucanis' wellbeing if Spite gets his way.

Is there a possibility in an alternate universe where Lucanis could have gone down a darker path similar to Anders', considering he wasn't in the best mental state when Rook gets him out of the Ossuary (an understatement)? Maybe if Rook lets Treviso get blighted? Could Lucanis' caring nature lose against Spite because of the despair and resentment he feels in that route? Spite would feed off his anger and also fan its flames, creating the same kind of endless negative loop that Anders was stuck in, until Lucanis was changed as a person. Angrier. Pettier with any perceived slights. More Vengeful even towards less deserving targets.

Again, we kind of get that in the sense that we can't choose what to do with Illario at the end of his quest but he just... gets imprisoned. (which is the choice I made in my first playthrough with unhardened Lucanis anyway because I just can't see in what world what Illario did would be forgivable with just a slap on the wrist. Maybe I'm also a demon of Spite, who knows)

It's a very lukewarm vengeance at best because in the canon hardened path, even if we get *told* Lucanis is more depressed and less trusting, he doesn't actually change much as a person and retains his love for his family and his caring nature, so it doesn't seem like Spite has influenced him in any way.

So yeah. Maybe in an AU. Or maybe I just like angst a lot, don't look at me I'm just bouncing ideas off the tumblr wall!