#so yeah my answer to these questions is yes

[zephyrchama]

(Based on that one scene from B99)

“Lucifer, your wrist looks kind of funny.”

All eyes turned to the Avatar of Pride when Leviathan pointed this out. They were supposed to be organizing the house library, but it was a long and boring task. One that everyone wanted to finish quickly, yet nobody could find the motivation to make any real progress.

“Oh no! What happened?” Asmodeus leaned over a table to try and steal a peek. Lucifer’s wrist was, indeed, bent in an odd manner. He used his non-dominant hand to shuffle some papers in order.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Asmo!” Mammon jeered. “Back off, leave the guy alone.”

Lucifer ignored his brothers, icy gaze focused on the documents in hand. They were papers that had been misfiled and did not belong in the library. He reminded everyone in the room to “behave yourselves” before disappearing into his office.

Curious eyes followed him until he was truly out of sight. Then, the brothers exchanged fascinated looks. It’s not every day that Lucifer get injured.

“Alright, everybody bring it in. Huddle up.” Mammon ushered everyone to come close with a sweep of his hand. The boys reluctantly formed a loose circle.

“What are you up to now?” Belphegor asked with a sigh. “I want to finish this already.”

Mammon pretended not to hear as he whisper-shouted, “so, he wouldn’t say what happened, which can only mean one thing.”

”He’s in a fight club,” Beelzebub suggested.

“No. He did it doing something he’s embarrassed by.” Satan was quick to catch on to the truth.

Beelzebub followed up with, “oh. Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist playing fangol last year.”

“Really? I don’t remember that,” Belphegor said.

Leviathan asked, “you think Lucifer was playing fangol?”

A deep growl suddenly came from the doorway. There was no warning or indication that Lucifer would be back so quickly. Yet, the man in question had returned. His menacing quickly caused the group to shut up.

“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office, but I don’t think it’s relevant to your jobs. The jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work.”

The brothers scattered like roaches back to their respective corners of the library. All except for Satan, who Lucifer beckoned over with his finger. Satan hesitated at first, but it was better to go along with Lucifer when his mood was sour. The two stepped out for a minute, far enough away that no one else would overhear.

“What?” Satan was fed up with this conversation and it hadn’t even started.

“Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Satan’s eyebrows flew up and he took several seconds to think about the question. What an odd offer. There was nothing for Lucifer to gain by telling him this, was there? Though, if he spent too long thinking Lucifer might change his mind and leave his little brother wondering what happened forever. With an oddly docile tone of voice, Satan responded, “...Yes.”

While Satan was busy wondering how to respond, Lucifer had taken out his DDD. He was scrolling through a menu in search of something. “I was hula hooping. Diavolo and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

“No way.” Satan's true thoughts leaked out. It was so dumb, it couldn’t be true.

Lucifer raised his phone to Satan’s eye level. The proof was there. ”I’ve mastered all the moves. The pizza toss. The tornado. The scorpion, the oopsie doodle.”

With each and every silly name, Lucifer swiped to a new photo on his phone. There he was, doing the pizza toss. Showing Diavolo how to do the scorpion. Performing a flawless oopsie doodle. Satan was stupefied, his mouth ajar.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one…” Lucifer selected all of the images. He tapped on a trash can in the corner of the screen. The images, every last one, disappeared. “…will ever believe you.”

“No!” Satan lunged for the phone in vain. “You sick, twisted, son of a-”

“You got your answer," Lucifer told him. "Get back to work."

[nativegirltapes]

reader def turning off her location when she's mad at basketballplayer!drew 😋😋

OH YES .... it's one of her favorite things to do actually ........ she's so messy with it too because sometimes she does it at the most random times just to mess with drew.

drew hadn't texted you all day long but he posted a selfie of him with his teammates out at dinner, so of course the natural response was to turn off your location and give him a taste of his own medicine. it was funny because he couldn't take 30 seconds out of his day to send you a message, but the minute you turned off your location he was blowing up your phone with calls.

"where are you? what are you doing?" drew questions you without giving you anytime to answer the first question. "painting my toe nails. why?" you say all nonchalantly as you hold your phone between your shoulder and face and paint your toenails a pretty shade of pink. "yeah, i don't believe it. facetime me." drew switches the call from audio to facetime.

he sees you in fact painting your toenails, "you're fuckin lucky." he watches you through the camera, he'd never tell you this but he loves watching you do your little girly tasks, you always look so beautiful and feminine. "okay well, bye." you give him a little smile, happy that you got your little ounce of attention from him for the night. "turn off your location again and see what happens."

you giggle, "yeah, whatever."

[wonderjanga]

questions in interviews that seem like easy softballs but for some reason Billy has to really consider the answer and usually says "i dont know" things a normal human should be confident about

12 minutes and 13 seconds of Captain Marvel not knowing basic human things:

Reporter: “Captain Marvel, how old are you?”

Marvel: “Funnily enough, I don’t know!” *smiling as he says this*

Reporter: “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Marvel: “I mean, I don’t know. I have like four different ages, technically more so I’m just gonna say I don’t know.”

Reporter: “But how will any contending ladies know if they have a shot, let alone are in your age range?”

Marvel: *sounds extremely confused* “What? I… Uh… Look, all I know is that any of my potential ages are over 100. And I can’t give any exact ages because I don’t remember when my birthday is. So yeah.” *smiles for some reason*

(This clip was taken a little before Billy knew about Mary. He’d never celebrated his birthday with his uncle and was pulled out of school after his parents died. All I knew was that he was between ages 8 to 10 and that was good enough for him. After he met Mary, because they were twins, he found out his age through her. He was 11.)

//

Sometime during the 1950s…(footage is very grainy as a result)

Reporter 2: “Captain Marvel, could you tell us your birthday? I’ve heard people discussing making it a holiday.”

Marvel: “I don’t actually know!”

Reporter 2: “Pardon?”

Marvel: “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s in December though. I think it’s also in the 20s too. But other than that, I don’t exactly know.”

(This was also before he met Mary again)

//

Reporter 3: “Captain Marvel, are you an American?”

Marvel: “I should be!”

Reporter 3: “You don’t know…?”

Marvel: “Nope! But I’ve lived here all my life so I’m pretty sure.”

//

Reporter 4: “Captain Marvel there have been reports and evidence that you don’t have the same biology as a human, are you one?”

Marvel: “Ye-” *pauses* “Actually wait. I don’t know.”

Reporter 4: “You don’t know?” *looks to the camera for a moment before looking back at him* “How can you not know?

Marvel: “Well, I thought I was one, but now that I think about it, I might not be. I have to consult the wizard!”

Reporter 4: “Wizard??”

[zhelin-thames]

The night was calm—eerily so, by Amity Park’s usual standards. Danny Fenton, better known to the ghostly underworld as Danny Phantom, leaned against the brick wall of an alley, munching on a cold burger. His patrol had been uneventful for once, and he was planning to call it a night when the sound of footsteps echoed down the street.

Danny didn’t need ghost sense to know someone was watching him. The footsteps were light, precise, and purposeful—not the aimless shuffling of a drunk or the hesitant steps of a passerby. Whoever it was, they were skilled. His eyes flicked toward the shadows, but he kept his posture casual.

And then the kid stepped into the light.

“Train me,” the boy said, his voice even and steady, though his face betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Danny blinked at him. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, dressed in black from head to toe with a hood shadowing most of his face. But it wasn’t just his age that gave Danny pause. It was the look in his eyes—sharp, cold, and determined. This kid was on a mission.

“No,” Danny replied flatly, taking another bite of his burger. He’d seen this kind of determination before—he’d been this kind of determination before—and he wasn’t about to let this kid follow in his footsteps. The vigilante life wasn’t just dangerous; it was a one-way ticket to pain, loss, and an early grave. Danny had survived by the skin of his teeth, but he wasn’t about to play Russian roulette with someone else’s life.

The kid didn’t flinch. “Train me.”

Danny sighed. “No.”

He turned and began walking away, hoping the kid would get the hint, but of course, he didn’t. The boy followed him like a shadow, his footsteps silent but deliberate.

“Train me.”

Danny stopped and turned to face him. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

The kid shook his head. Danny could respect that kind of persistence, even if it was annoying. Still, there was no way he was getting roped into this.

“Look, kid, I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but trust me, you don’t want this life.”

“Yes, I do,” the boy said firmly. “I’ve trained for years. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your plan when things go sideways? When you’re outnumbered, outgunned, and one mistake away from getting yourself killed? You think martial arts and stubbornness are gonna save you?”

The boy didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened, and Danny could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “But we’re doing it my way, got it? First rule: what’s your name?”

The boy straightened, his back rigid with pride. “I am Bruce Wayne.”

Danny froze. Wayne. As in the Wayne family. The rich, fancy folks who owned half the buildings in Gotham. He stared at the kid, suddenly understanding why he was so serious—and why he’d probably been trained in martial arts since he could walk.

“Alright, rule number one,” Danny said, recovering quickly. “When you’re in your vigilante identity, you don’t give people your real name. You need to keep your identities separate. Got it?”

Bruce frowned, clearly not understanding the importance of this, but he nodded.

“Good. Now again—what’s your name?”

The boy hesitated, his brows furrowing as he considered the question. Finally, he squared his shoulders and said, “Batman.”

Danny blinked. Then he blinked again. The kid’s tone was serious—so serious that Danny might have actually been intimidated if not for the fact that his voice cracked halfway through the word.

Danny bit his lip, struggling to hold back a laugh. “Alright, Batsy,” he said, the nickname slipping out before he could stop himself. “Rule number two: no vigilante-ing until you’re twenty. Teenage vigilantes get killed. They make dumb mistakes, and trust me, I know. I was a teenage vigilante, and let me tell you, it’s not worth the risk.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “What? No! I need to protect Gotham. I can’t wait four more years to do that!”

It was the first time Danny had heard any real emotion in his voice. The boy’s face softened, just for a moment, and Danny could see the weight of the world pressing down on his narrow shoulders. He wanted to argue, to convince Danny that he was ready, but Danny shook his head.

“Nope,” he said firmly. “You wait until you’re out of the ‘teen’ range, or I don’t train you. End of discussion. And rule number three, which is kind of an extension of rule number one: don’t give out personal information in your vigilante identity. I know you’re sixteen now, and I wasn’t even trying to get that info out of you.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, and a low growl escaped his throat. Danny couldn’t help but think he sounded like a cranky puppy.

“Fine,” Bruce muttered, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument. But Danny could tell he was already filing everything away, committing the rules to memory. The kid was smart, no doubt about that.

“Good,” Danny said with a grin. “Training starts tomorrow, Baby Bat. Meet me at Nasty Burger. Civvies only.”

Years later, Bruce Wayne stood in the Batcave, his head pounding as he argued with a pint-sized acrobat perched on the Batcomputer.

Bruce opened his mouth to argue, but Danny was already walking away, his laughter echoing down the alley.

“Dick,” Bruce said, his voice low and measured, “you’re not going out there. You’re nine. You wait until you’re twenty, and that’s final.”

Dick Grayson crossed his arms, his small face twisted into a defiant scowl. “But you didn’t wait until you were twenty!”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not!”

Bruce groaned. He was starting to understand how Danny must have felt all those years ago.

Meanwhile, in Amity Park, Danny Fenton paused mid-bite of his burger. A strange sensation washed over him—a tingling at the back of his mind that he hadn’t felt in years.

“I don’t know where or why,” Danny muttered, narrowing his eyes at the distance, “but I just know Baby Bat is doing something dumb again. And I don’t like it.”

It had been years since Danny Fenton had reluctantly taken on a certain sixteen-year-old Bruce Wayne as a trainee. The so-called Baby Bat had been stubborn, determined, and relentless in his pursuit of justice—even if Danny had been equally stubborn in making sure the kid didn’t get himself killed before he turned twenty.

Now, years later, Bruce Wayne had turned into Batman—the Batman. The name was spoken in hushed tones across the criminal underworld and was plastered on the news every other week. Danny couldn’t help but feel proud… and maybe a little exasperated.

He’d done his job. Bruce was alive, competent, and running Gotham like a pro. Danny had thought his days of worrying about Baby Bat were long behind him.

But that thought was obliterated the moment Bruce reached out through a very specific secure channel.

Danny leaned back on the couch in his apartment, half-listening to an old horror movie playing in the background while munching on chips. His ghostly senses were quiet, and for once, life was calm.

That’s when the Bat-symbol flashed on his computer screen.

He groaned loudly, almost spilling his chips. “I knew it. I freaking knew it. I should’ve ignored this brat the first time he said ‘Train me.’”

Reluctantly, Danny got up and opened the line. The face staring back at him was unmistakable—Bruce Wayne, older now, with sharper angles and a jawline that could probably cut glass. Despite the years, Danny immediately recognized the faint glint of determination (and maybe stubbornness) in his eyes. Some things never changed.

“Bruce,” Danny drawled, leaning against his desk. “What do you want now? Did you break something? Or someone? Or are you just here to tell me about how Gotham still sucks?”

“Danny,” Bruce said, his voice as grave as ever. “I need your help.”

Danny squinted at him, skeptical. “Help? With what? You’re literally Batman now. What could you possibly need from me?”

Bruce hesitated for a moment, and Danny almost laughed. He’s nervous. What the hell is going on?

Finally, Bruce spoke. “It’s my family.”

Danny blinked. “Your… family?”

“They’re... difficult,” Bruce admitted begrudgingly, and Danny couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He laughed so hard he had to clutch his sides, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“You? You, the most difficult person I’ve ever met, are complaining about difficult family members?” Danny wheezed. “Oh, this is rich.”

Bruce didn’t look amused. “Danny.”

“Alright, alright,” Danny said, wiping his eyes. “What’s the deal? You’ve got Alfred, right? Let him handle it.”

“This is different,” Bruce said, and Danny could hear the faintest edge of discomfort in his voice. “You’ll see when you get here.”

And with that, the line cut out.

Danny stared at the blank screen for a moment before sighing. “I swear, if he’s gotten himself in over his head again…”

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor via ghost portal the next evening, stepping out of the swirling green vortex in his Phantom form. The grandeur of the place hit him immediately—it was just as ridiculous as he remembered.

He floated down into the Batcave, landing silently behind Bruce, who was reviewing a crime map on the massive Batcomputer.

“Alright, Batsy,” Danny said, his voice echoing in the cave. “What’s the big deal?”

Bruce didn’t even turn. “They’re here.”

Danny was about to ask who when he heard a series of rapid footsteps and loud voices approaching from the tunnels.

“—I told you to stop touching my stuff, Todd!”

“Like I care, Drake!”

“You’re both insufferable,” another voice cut in, colder and sharper.

“Guys, please!” someone else chimed in, clearly exasperated.

And then they were there—a collection of teenagers and young adults, each looking like they belonged in their own action movie.

Danny blinked. “Bruce,” he said slowly, turning to face him. “Why do you have an army of kids?”

Bruce sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as his children assembled in front of Danny.

“Danny, meet my… family.”

The first to step forward was the oldest—a grinning man in his twenties with an acrobat’s grace and bright, mischievous blue eyes. “Dick Grayson,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Danny shook it, eyeing him warily. “The original Robin, huh? Bruce talks about you sometimes. Says you’re the ‘good one.’”

Dick smirked. “Good to know I’m still the favorite.”

“Only because you don’t give me headaches,” Bruce muttered.

The next kid to step forward was a young man with a white streak in his dark hair, a leather jacket, and an air of barely-restrained chaos. He didn’t offer a handshake.

“Jason Todd,” he said, his voice rough. “And you’re the guy who taught Bruce how to nag, huh?”

Danny snorted. “And you’re the one who probably causes most of his headaches.”

Jason smirked. “Damn right.”

The third was a lanky teen with sharp eyes and a smartphone glued to his hand. “Tim Drake,” he said, not looking up from the screen.

“You’re the tech guy, I’m guessing?” Danny said.

Tim nodded distractedly. “You could say that.”

Next was a young boy, no older than ten, with a scowl that could probably scare grown men. He crossed his arms and glared at Danny.

“Damian Wayne,” he said. “Biological son.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Ah, the little terror Bruce never shut up about.”

Damian bristled. “I am no terror—”

“Yes, you are,” everyone said in unison.

Danny turned to Bruce, his arms crossed. “So… what do you need my help with? Because it looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

Bruce sighed heavily. “They don’t listen to me. Half the time, they’re arguing. The other half, they’re trying to outsmart each other—or me.”

“And?” Danny prompted.

“And,” Bruce said reluctantly, “I thought you could help… mediate.”

Danny blinked. Then he started laughing again. “You want me to babysit your army of vigilantes?”

“It’s not babysitting,” Bruce growled.

But it absolutely was.

Over the next few days, Danny found himself in the middle of Bat-family antics. Whether it was Jason and Tim bickering over whose tech was better, Dick trying to wrangle everyone for a “team-building exercise,” or Damian threatening to fight literally everyone, Danny was beginning to realize why Bruce looked so perpetually exhausted.

But for all the chaos, there was a sense of family here that Danny couldn’t help but admire. It reminded him of his own ragtag group back in Amity—Sam, Tucker, Jazz, even Vlad in a weird way.

Eventually, Danny pulled Bruce aside. “You know,” he said, “for all your complaining, you’ve built something pretty amazing here. They’re not just your team—they’re your family.”

Bruce looked at his kids, a rare flicker of softness crossing his face. “I know,” he said quietly.

Danny grinned. “Well, you’re still a pain in the ass, but I think you’ve done alright, Batsy.”

And so, Danny’s unexpected reunion with Bruce turned into a week-long crash course in dealing with the next generation of vigilantes. By the time he left, he was exhausted—but also a little proud.

As he stepped back through his portal, he shook his head with a smile.

“Baby Bat really did grow up, huh?”

Somewhere in the Batcave, Bruce smirked.

[juniperskye]

Just a little something.

Based on the following ask: I have a request that may be a little difficult for you to write, if you're up for it. I would like to request Hotch with a non-bau reader that likes to crochet in their spare time, particularly stuffed animals, and gift them to others. Jack and Hotch would obviously receive the majority of the amigurumi projects, but one day, the reader makes too many little crochet animals and persuades Hotch to take them to work and hand them out to other agents. You wouldn't have to go too into depth about the crocheting techniques if you don't think you could properly write about it; you could honestly just mention the creation period in passing and the present the finished crochet piece in the plot.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 841

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Age gap (non-specified), established relationship with Hotch, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, reader crochets, mention of Jack, mention of reader’s nieces and nephews, mention of anxiety (reader uses crocheting as an outlet) use of pet names, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had picked up crocheting back when you were in college. Then, and even now it served as an outlet to release stress and anxiety. When you had started out your projects were fairly simple, wash cloths, granny squares, simple blankets.

The beauty of this hobby was that it allowed for some beautiful handmade gifts. As time went on, you began making stuffed animals. Your sister had gifted you a book with patterns for amigurumi projects, and from then on you’d been making all sorts of little creatures.

The primary recipients of your creations had been your nieces and nephews. First it was their baby blankets, then elephants, and turtles, which turned into cows and opossums, and most recently Pokémon.

When you and Aaron started dating you’d mentioned your hobby in passing, but as things progressed in your relationship, crocheting seemed to come out a little more in you. You’d casually pull out a project while watching a movie with Aaron and Jack, you’d brought over a throw blanket for the back of the couch. You’d even gifted Aaron a scarf and some socks before he left for a case in Colorado in the dead of winter.

--

One night after finishing a plushie of Charmander for your nephew, Jack spoke up…soft and unsure.

“That’s really cool.” He whisper.

“Thanks bud, do you like Charmander?” You replied.

“Kinda…I don’t really play Pokémon that much.” He shrugged.

“Oh yeah, what do you like then?” You smiled.

“I like spiderman!” Jack exclaimed.

A few days later you’d showed up with a stuffed spiderman for Jack. He was over the moon and from then on, he wasn’t afraid to ask you directly for something.

--

He was an incredible kid, he’d patiently wait for you to complete the project, even asking you questions throughout the process.

“And what kind of stitch is that?” He’d ask.

“This one here is a half double crochet.” You answered.

“And that’s different than a single crochet?”

“Yes, for a half double, you put the yarn over and then pull it through all three loops. You see that?” You asked, holding the project up as you showed him how to do it.

That night you hopped online and ordered Jack a Woobles crochet kit so he could learn alongside you.

--

For as long as you’d been crocheting, people have suggested you open an Etsy shop, and you always met them with the same response; it’ll lose the serenity it currently brings me. And this is why you only make small batches for two local boutiques.

Once a month you make a few things for each shop, and you go in and drop them off. As they sell, the profits are split 60/40 between you and the shops, which gives you the money for yarn and a little extra.

In the last week, you’d made a wide variety of stuffed animals, ranging anywhere from dinosaurs and bunnies all the way to peas in a pod and cherries. You had been packing everything up to get ready to deliver them.

--

“Hey sweetheart.” Aaron called as you entered the apartment.

“Hi honey.” You set your tote bin down and made your way to the kitchen.

“How were the deliveries?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“They were good! I actually came home with a few things. With the Holidays just ending, one of the shops still had a few items and so they didn’t need their usual stock.” You explained.

“Oh, well now you’ll have some for next time?” He offered.

“You know, next time it’ll be Easter themed stuff…chicks and bunnies. What if you took some of these in for the BAU?” You suggested. “I can wrap one up for each of them and you can leave them on their desks for me.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh, please Aaron! Think of it as a late Christmas gift from me! I’ll even write them notes so they know it’s from me!”

“Sweethe-”

“Please!” You begged.

“Okay sweetheart. Whatever you want.” Aaron pressed a kiss to your forehead.

--

The next morning Aaron arrived at work even earlier than usual, that way he could place the brightly colored bags on everyone’s desks prior to their arrival. You had selected a specific plush for each person, even pulling from some other projects you had stored for an event you’d be participating in.

One by one, each member of the BAU arrived, quickly taking note of the giftbags on each desk. They shared confused glances and shrugged before Aaron stepped out of his office.

“There should be a note in each bag. Feel free to open them and enjoy.” He said, returning to his office.

Aaron smiled gently, toying with the crocheted whale shark you snuck into his bag. You always said he, like whale sharks frightened people, due to preconceived notions derived from fear, but in all actuality, they were gentle creatures.

Aaron’s smile only grew as he heard Garcia squeal with joy over the soft unicorn you’d gifted her.

[starboye]

johnny and ghost who are missionaries for their local church (basically someone who spreads the gospel and try to make people turn toward god) and they get sent to your house, aka the local femboy who flaunts their as like there's no tomorrow

getting a knock on your door and answering it to see to guys dressed in some slick pants and vests "high sir would you like to talk about our lord and savior jesus christ" and as much as you wanted to say no you couldn't just shut the door on the fine looking men

letting them in they saw the outfit you were in, a skirt with a crop top and some thigh high socks, but they couldn't get distracted by the sinful ways of the world so they pushed through and sat in the living room and started going on and on about how turning to god will do you some good from going to hell for eternity

"oh my god- sorry i mean gosh i should really read more into this let me go get some paper to write this down" you fake a genuine reaction and turn to get some paper but uh oh you "accidentally' split some water on the couch "oh my im such a clutz" you turn to wipe up the mess, perfectly bent over to show the men a perfect view of your lacy underwear you have on, they're such a pretty pink color aren't they?

and in seconds they have a hard on in their slacks and are trying to hide it with the bibles they have, lord forgive them, once you go get the paper you fake write down some notes as they continue talking, stumbling over some words until they finally finish "well i feel like i should give you my number just in case i have any questions right" you looked at them with the most seductive look, your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth

"yeah f-for sure" the one with the mohawk says and you write down your number, making sure to mark it with a little kiss just to make sure they remember you "you'll remember me right" you say sliding the note into the blonde hair guys hand "yes sir" they both look at you dumb founded as the stand up and inch their way to the door careful not to show their boner to you

"have a good day now boys" you say closing the door and now their struggling to think of what to do with the aching in their pants but trust they will defiently be calling you later tonight or better yet showing up at the door

[allllium]

Master Plan Pt. 2

Jason x reader fake dating

~ This is a little short but the next one will be longer

~ WC: 899, They discuss a fake background

~ Jason is anxious about your plan

"Why do you plan to do? Walk in, say we're dating, and expect them all to believe it? Out of nowhere?" You ask him in confusion, Jason knows his family very well and he knows they wouldn't fall for it.

"Well what do you want to do? They won't believe it either way."

"Don't be such a downer."

"I still don't know why we're doing this. It seems dramatic."

"Yes it does that's exactly the point Jason."

"None of this makes any sense." He rolls his eyes and walks into his bedroom. You follow closely behind him.

"It makes perfect sense. Seeing your family will help you feel better, Jason whether you want to believe it or not. And this way, they'll all be so thrown off by the announcement of our relationship, they won't ask about other things. You can spend the next few weeks playing pretend and healing without their overbearing questions."

"Yeah, I guess I can see it that way." He sits down on his bed with small sigh.

"Hey." You sit down next to him, "Everything will be okay."

"I know, I would just like it to be okay now, not however far along."

You pull his hand into yours to comfort him. You've been friends for so long that small touch like this doesn't bother either of you.

"We'll work on it."

"Why are you so instinct on helping me?"

"Because we're friends, believe it or not I enjoy your company. When you're not being so mopey that is."

"Hey I am not mopey." He quickly defends.

"If not mopey then what are you?"

"Something else that's not mopey." He admits quietly.

"That's what I thought. Now backstory." You pull out a piece of paper from one of the notebooks Jason has on his dresser.

"Do we really need a backstory? Just tell we started dating a little bit ago."

"Oh no. If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. That means we're creating a backstory and answers to any questions they might ask."

"You've certainly thought this through."

"Yes I have because I want this to work. You realize if it doesn't they'll make fun of us for the rest of forever?"

"Which makes me wonder even more what you're real motive is for doing this?"

"Is it wrong to want to trick your family?"

"Not at all." You also want to help him in any way you can, it's what friends do.

"No that makes no sense." You're quickly learning not to take any of his words seriously. He's disagreeing with basically everything you say.

"Yes it does Jason." It's been almost an hour and you've gotten almost nothing done.

"No it doesn't. I would never do something extravagant to ask someone out." He shrugs and takes a chip from the plate on the coffee table.

"Why not? Relationships need a certain type of romance and work."

"I'd rather celebrate with a quiet night at home and a homemade dinner."

"Fine, we'll say that."

"What else?"

"I don't know. What do you think is appropriate for your family to know?"

"Nothing. My relationships are none of their business." You aren't surprised by his attitude with this. He doesn't like telling them anything about his personal life.

"Jason." You say sternly. Despite his words, there must be something he's thinking of. He knows how his family is.

"They'll probably ask who made the first move and when we realized our feelings."

"That's good, now you're thinking."

"So what do we say?" He asks with an uncaring tone.

"Well Jason, when did you realize you're feelings for me?"

"I felt some hatred since the moment I met you if that counts." He smiles like he's pround of himself.

"That's not nice. If you don't take this seriously, I'll have no choice but to make everything up myself and I'll make it so embarrassing for you you'll never want to leave the house."

"I'll tell them it's when we were-" He takes a pause. "Making dinner together for Alfred's birthday."

"That makes sense. Good job." He rolls his eyes.

"What about you?"

"I'll say the same. It'll mean more."

"Alright then."

The two of you fall into a strange silence and you can't pinpoint why. Of course it's been very awkward trying to talk about things like this. Making up lies about feelings neither of you have.

The whole time you're talking, he can't seem to keep eye contact with you longer than a split second. You want to ask him what's wrong but you know it's weird enough with the tension in the room and he'll probably not respond well to any personal questions.

The rest of the night is spent working on a backstory well enough to fool Damien and Alfred. Unlike Bruce, they both focus on the small details when it comes to stuff like this.

Dick and the others won't be a problem because they'll be so happy with Jason having a actual relationship.

You tell Jason all of this and by the way his body immediately relaxes you can tell it eased a lot of his nerves.

You start to question whether or not this is something you really want to go through with. You're scared it could ruin your relationship with him if it goes wrong but on the other hand it truly does seem like his best chance.

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER V

✷WARNINGS: cursing, pining??, farrah mentioned, xavia lore dropping, angst ✷NIYAH SPEAKS: computer fixed ayeeee!!! imma get to yalls requests now i pinky swear. idk when they'll be out but i gotchu

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

“So, Ms. Johnson,” Paige smiles at me from her spot on the ground, “What does one do for Christmas in LA?”

The original plan for tonight was for our whole group to hang out before we all left to our hometowns. So it was KK, Azzi, Yanna, Jane and I. 

But of course, nothing ever goes to plan around here. Yanna and Jane went back to our place so Jane could finish packing. Azzi had to ‘take a phone call’ but she’d been in her room for almost an hour. And KK was supposed to be picking up the food, but she had been gone longer than Azzi. 

So it was just Paige and I, her on the ground building LEGO’s and me on the couch scrolling. It was a comfortable silence, but a silence that was begging to be broken. I guess Paige decided to be the one that broke it. 

“Well, Christmas is different in my house than it would be for your average Californian.” I set my phone down before folding my hands and sliding them under the blanket. “It’s more of a production than a holiday.”

I make it a point to never talk about my family’s dynamic with anyone here. I try my hardest for those two worlds to never meet, but for some reason, I trust that Paige will understand my situation better than anyone. I think to some extent, her life is as complex as mine is.

Paige seems ultimately unbothered by what I said. “Is your family one of those weird ones that has a 90ft tree and uses rare cloth to wrap presents?” She asks without ever taking her eyes off the project she’s working on. 

“Uh, kinda,” I start, “My parents are both surgeons and all four of my grandparents were doctors. My grandpa make like, a life changing discovery before my dad was born, and my grandma on my moms side was a pioneer for black women in the medical field,”

“Sound like some shit off Grey’s,” Paige chuckles and I can’t help but to join her, because it really does sound like some shit from Grey’s. 

“So obviously they were very successful and raised my parents to be just like them,”

“Of course.”

“So naturally, my parents are just like their parents and my grandparents are very proud of them, as they should be.” I throw my hands up, to let Paige know that I’m also proud of my parents, “But then they had me. And it was my parent’s turn to shape and mold their prodigy.”

“Right.” Paige nod’s her head like she’s following, still focused on the LEGO’s.

“Except I hate blood, and science has always been my weakest subject.”

She freezes for a second before turning her head to me, now paying full attention.

“So instead of a prodigy, they got a humanitarian who protests the cost of health insurance.”

Paige winces at my words, like she understands that there’s career shaped canyon between my parents and I. “Ouch,”

“Yeah so, back to Christmas,” I take a deep breath and let it out before answering her original question, “Every year, my parents throw this big party every year, bigger than the Thanksgiving one, and it’s filled with rich people who talk about making themselves richer.” 

I decide to leave out the part about me playing the piano and how a piece of me dies everytime I strike a chord. 

“Everyone asks me how school’s going and if I’m still majoring in Sociology and when I tell them ‘yes,’ they remind me that ‘the money isn’t great in social work’, and I have to pretend like I don’t want to scream that if I cared about money then I would still be using my parents money instead of busting my ass to pay my rent and keep my grades up so I don’t lose my scholarship.” 

Realizing that I’ve started rambling, I take another breath, closing my eyes and counting to three before I release it. And Paige doesn’t say anything. She just allows me this moment for myself, regardless of any questions she may have, and I appreciate more than she realizies. 

“Nobody gets why I don’t use my trust fund, or why I work when my parent’s would pay for everything.” I open my eyes and allow them to find Paige’s. 

She looks empathetic and confused and it makes me want to run away and never see her again, but also tell her all my secrets, hopes and dreams at the same time. 

Funny, right?

“Why don’t you?” she asks.

I think about my answer for a second, trying to put it in the best way I can. How do you explain to someone that if you wanted to, you could have everything you wanted, but to get everything you want, you have to be everything you never want to be? How do you explain that you know from firsthand experience that money doesn’t buy happiness?

“Because then they’d have control over me.” I speak slowly, not sure if it makes sense to me, let alone Paige. “They’d hold the money over my head so that I would have no choice but to be exactly who they want me to be. And I’d rather live the life that I do, than pretend to be something I’m not.”

The irony in my statement isn’t lost one me. 

Rich girl want to change the world by refusing to take Mommy and Daddy’s money.

Cliche, I know. But I don’t want to change the world by not taking their money. I’d gladly accept the help from my parents, and I know I’d make much more of a difference if I had money they were always trying to force feed me. But the cost isn’t worth it to me. 

How can I, in good conscience, fight to make life easier for the middle/lower class if I’m rubbing elbows with the very people who are making their lives harder?

Paige’s response shocks me to my core. “I wish I was as brave as you.”

I don’t know why I said that. I meant what I said, but I stil have no fucking clue why I allowed myself to say it. 

Because now, Xavia is looking at me like she’s waiting for me to go further. Waiting for me to give her and explanation that I can’t give her. 

I think about where this conversation would go if I was honest about it. 

I’d tell her that I admired her ability to be honest. That I lie to everyone about everything and I think the guilt is gonna kill me before I make it to the league, which is the reason I’m doing it in the first place. I’d tell her that I wish I was strong enough to do what I want without caring about the repercussions. 

My first thought is that if I were to say all that, she’d for sure think I’m insane. I wouldn’t blame her. How can I play the victim in this situation when at the end of the day, it’s my choices that got me here?

But my second thought is that Xavia would take a second. Close her eyes and take a deep breath, and I’d stare at her lashes as they brush her cheek and hope that one falls so I can brush it off her cheek. And after that second, she’d open her eyes and tell me everything I need to hear. She’d come up with a solution to all my problems and when I tell her that I’m scared to be honest about everything, she wouldn’t make me feel like shit. She’d assure me that she’d be there when my world crumbles due to my lies.

None of that can happen for two reasons. 

I’m for shit sure not gonna chance Xavia and I’s friendship by telling her my secrets.

If my second thought is correct, I’d be forced to admit to myself that I never stopped liking Xavia. I’d be forced to admit that it might not be a like anymore. That it might possibly be something deeper and complex than wanting what I can’t have.

So instead, I feed her bullshit. 

“Uh, just-” I clear my throat, “If I had the choice to go to school on someone else’s dime, I’d take it, regardless.”

The way Xavi’s face drops makes my heart do the same. I literally watch the light in her eyes that I love so much, disappear.  Her brows furrow and she tucks her lips before sticking her neck out as if to telepathically say, ‘are you dumb?’

And I’m not.

I fully understand her mindset. And I support her choices to be independent. That sentence was just the best I could come up with at the moment, but clearly it’s done more harm than good. 

“Did you not hear everything I just said?”

“Uh-”

She cuts me off, “Because if you did, then you would have heard the part where I explained why I’m not doing that.”

“No, I know why you’re doing things your way, I just wouldn’t do the same.”

The baffled look on her face tells me she’s not pleased with my attempt at damage control, “And why not?”

There are countless answers to that question, and running them over in my mind makes me mad, more at myself than anyone else. All the excuses are my own fault. 

I’m too scared to fail.

I made promises I wouldn’t be able to keep on my own.

I don’t have the confidence within myself to trust me with my own life.

And of course, like the fucking moron that I am, I said none of that to the girl who’s now standing up front the couch, legs unfolded, bare feet barring into the carpet. 

“We all have to make sacrifices to make Xavia, and you choosing to struggle and cause a rift with your parents doesn’t seem worth the cause.” I shrugged, leaning back on my haunches, craning my neck to see her. 

She cuts her eyes at me before inhaling and exhaling. ‘Bye, Paige.” And now, she’s sliding into her shoes and grabbing her back, “Tell KK I’ll Apple Pay her my part for the food.”

I’m speechless as I watch her hips sway to my front door. I watch her arms swing the door open and I watch it close with a soft click. 

It isn’t until I watch her Uber drive off with her in it that I realize what the fuck just happened, and when I do it takes everything in me to not fall to my fucking knees. 

I just stare at the door, like if I hope hard enough Xavia will come back and have magically figured out everything I wanted to say.

But she doesn’t come back. The front door doesn’t open again until KK barges in with bags of Chick-Fil-A, asking where Xavi and Azzi went.

I can’t even bring myself to answer. 

I just close my eyes and force the tears back into their ducts before wordlessly going to my room and it isn’t until I’m in my bed with the lights off that allow the tears to fall. 

I allow myself to shake from the force of my regret. I let my lungs empty themselves out into my pillow with every sob. I allow this one time to be honest with myself because no amount of ignoring or denial will trick my brain into thinking that being Xavi-less is worth it.. 

So the rest of the night, I cry until there’s no tears left, and then I cry some more just because I want to. 

It’s not even the fact that Xavia walked out on me. It’s not abou the fact that she’s mad at me, though that doesn’t sit well either. 

It’s the fact that, for years I knew exactly how my life was gonna look. I knew I was going pro. I knew I was gonna be the #1 draft pick and I knew that in order for these things to happen, I had to make sacrifices. I had to pick the right girl, wear the right clothes, talk a certain way and dedicate myself to my career. I had to be absolutely fucking miserable and become a version of myself that I wasn’t proud of.

 And for all this time, I told myself that all this loneliness and misery was going to be worth it when I put that hat on. Because then I’d have done it. I’d have done what I’ve wanted to do since I was 10.

It didn’t matter that I was a liar. That I was keeping a girl I loved (as a friend) from being with someone who could give her everything she deserved. It didn’t matter I’d never enjoy sex again, or that the guilt of my decisons was probably gonna give me ulcers. Didn’t even matter that I’d probably go to Hell for all the sins I’d committed.

But now, I can’t stop my brain from telling me that the WNBA isn’t worth Farrah’s happiness. It isn’t worth the light in Xavia’s eyes. It isn’t worth Azzi’s peace of mind. 

It isn’t worth my soul.

The next morning, I ignore my alarm. I ignore the knocks on my door and the texts from my team and the calls from Farrah. I just lay there in my bed, wrapped in a blanket that smells nothing like coconut oil, and try to get my shit together, 

I wrack my brain and force myself to remember why I’m doing this. 

WHY THE FUCK AM I DOING THIS?

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @avvwritesstufff @bueckersverse @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

[honeydewblogforwriting]

When you know you know

Summary: they’re convinced that they’re soulmates and they’re right.

Warnings: probably just typos

Uploaded to YouTube 30 minutes ago :

"Are you two a couple?", this question breaks the intimate bubble that you and your girlfriend had been trapped in as you swung your joined hands while strolling down the streets of San Francisco.

In front of you stands a young man with an eager expression and a digital camera.

Your girlfriend is the first of the couple to respond, "Yeah", she states with a large smile.

"Would you mind telling me the story of how you first met?"

"Oh yeah!", you excitedly respond.

"We met at a friend's birthday party. I thought she was really cute so I asked my friend to introduce us and then I moved in five days later."

"You moved in five days later?", the cameraman asks in a shocked tone.

Giggling, your partner states, "mhm in a business week"

"How did that happen?" Is the follow-up question.

"Well, the party was at her house and I just never left.", you giggle

"How long ago was that?"

"March of 2024"

"Wow, almost a year. What's your favorite thing about her?", the man behind the camera directs this question at your lover.

"Her gentleness. She's very gentle in all aspects of life. She's very patient, considerate, calm and receptive. She doesn't judge and her approach to life and interacting with others is to the point but not brash. She states her opinion but isn't rude about it. She makes me feel seen."

A warm blush coats your cheeks and you shyly sway on the spot.

There's a shift towards your direction and the previous question is repeated. You delicately toy with a beautiful necklace around your neck as you answer, "uhh everything. She's passionate, gentle, funny. She radiates warmth."

"We're doing a poll on if people believe in fate and the role it plays-"

Bright-eyed, you are the first to respond, "yes absolutely." You pivot your body towards her as you continue, "I feel like I knew you in like all of our past lives.". Your blonde-haired lover is quick to nod in agreement.

"What do you mean that you feel like you've known her in all your past lives?"

Nodding, you state, "I just feel extremely connected to her. Things have just been so comfortable and soothing."

"I've never heard a relationship being referred to as soothing. That's beautiful", the cameraman smiles.

Misty-eyed, the 6-foot young woman nods in agreement. You notice her prickling tears and quickly pull her in a comforting hug as you whisper, "I love you" in her ear. She repeats the sentiment as she tightens her arms around you. You stay in your tender embrace for a few moments longer. As you pull apart, you turn to the camera and state, "Thank you for this."

Behind the camera, the man nods with a genuine smile.

"What are you most excited for?"

You raise your left hand and wiggle your fingers, "our wedding." A shiny pear-shaped diamond engagement ring winks at the camera.

The Illinois native inches closer to you and her voice overlaps with yours as she points to your ring and state, "our wedding next year"

"Wow, thank you. Do you mind telling us your names?". Nodding in agreement, you take turns to respond with you going first. "Y/N L/N" "and Kate Martin".

Comments:

User1: okay so who’s the friend? 😭

🔂User2: I think it’s Jada. Her birthday is March and she tagged y/n in her birthday post. I tried to view y/n’s account but it’s private.

User3: so you’re telling me that Kate has been in a relationship before she even started playing for the Aces???

User4: so no one else finds it crazy that they started living together after five business days ? 😀

🔂User5: does it matter? They’re still together and intend to stay together

🔂User6: some of y’all don’t know the man for five business hours before y’all make them y’all babydaddies, be quiet please

User7: so you’re telling me that Y/N has been with Kate for her entire WNBA career so far ? 🥹🥹🥹

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[daynascullys]

ficlet: surprise

by handwrittengarden

rating: general words: 1,132 pairing: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully tags: birthday party, surprise party, humor, fluff warnings: none apply. links to read: AO3 / tumblr

SUMMARY: Mulder throws Scully a surprise party for her birthday.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⟡ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

NOTES: Tried something new with the encouragement of my friends @thursdayinspace and @laurencem. This was just a silly little feel-good ficlet that I didn't have anyone beta read but hopefully it's still enjoyable :)

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⟡ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

“Mulder, it’s me.”

Mulder presses the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he gestures wildly at the friends he’s crowded into his apartment, motioning with his hands and mouthing that they need to shut the fuck up.   

“Oh hey, birthday girl,” Mulder teases, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“Scully is fine, Mulder.” Mulder pictures her rolling her eyes and swears he can hear a suppressed smile in her voice. “I’m heading out now. I’ll meet you at your place?”

“Yes, yes. That’s the plan!” Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder sees Frohike disapprovingly shaking his head. Without thinking, Mulder swats an arm at him, the phone slipping from his shoulder and nearly hitting the floor in the process.

“Mulder, what was that? Are you okay?” Mulder glares at Frohike, who is snickering in the corner with the other Gunmen. 

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.” He hangs up before Scully can press him for more answers. The Gunmen burst out laughing as he hangs up and Mulder glances around for something he can throw at them. He settles for some pencils he snatches from the desk.

“That’s the plan!” Frohike mimics in a high-pitched voice. 

“Worst co-conspirators ever,” Mulder mutters. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Mulder assesses the room, noting the drooping corner of a banner reading Happy Birthday and several half-full bags of balloons that have yet to be blown up. Mulder clears his throat. “Alright, people,” he announces, “we have about 20 minutes before Scully gets here. Come on, let’s go, let’s go!”   

————————

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Mu–” Scully starts, but Mulder’s already hung up. She sighs, shaking her head slightly as she puts down the phone and turns her key in the ignition.

On the short drive to Mulder’s apartment, she mulls over their brief call. She knows Mulder so well, knows every inflection and cadence of his voice and the emotions he endeavors to confine within them. She thinks his voice sounded ever-so-slightly strained, too well-concealed for anyone but her to discern. There had been noise, too–some sort of commotion in the background. At least, she thinks there was noise. Scully isn’t sure. Ever since Mulder brought up going out to celebrate her birthday, his behavior has been… not quite erratic, but inconsistent. His answers either contain insufficient information or are brimming with insignificant details, and more often than not, they don’t even answer her questions. 

Lost in her thoughts, Scully hardly registers the fact that she has parked, entered Mulder’s apartment building, and is now stepping out of the elevator onto his floor. A door clicks shut as she walks down the hallway, the sound directing her focus back to the present. Reaching 42, Scully knocks on the door.

“It’s open!” Mudler’s muffled voice shouts through the door. Scully turns the handle, the darkness of the apartment colliding with the hallway light as she slowly pushes the door open. Scully reaches out to flick on the lights as she lets herself in. 

“SURPRISE!!!!!!!!” 

Scully jumps, instinctively reaching for her weapon. 

“I’M ARMED!” she screams, drawing her gun and pointing it around the apartment, her voice lost in the commotion as people shout and jump and duck and dive into corners and behind furniture. Her mind goes blank, vision narrowing to the trajectory of her unshot bullets. Scully hears something pop and the sound of shattering glass as she continues to threaten the intruders.

“Scully, Scully!” Mulder shouts as he steps in front of her, arms raised. “Scully, hey, it’s me. You’re okay.” 

“Mulder?!” Scully blinks, lowering her weapon in confusion and attempting to orient herself to her surroundings. There’s a mountain of presents on Mulder’s desk next to… her mom? She notices the Lone Gunmen standing by a cake. A crooked banner hangs behind Skinner, whose hand sits on his undrawn gun. Scully looks back to Mulder and finds him watching her in amusement, his barely suppressed laugh escaping as he starts to say something. He steps closer, gently placing his hands over hers and extricating the gun from her grip. 

“Happy birthday?” he manages with a sheepish grin before devolving into a full fit of laughter. She watches him incredulously, her heartbeat still pounding in her ears. Slowly, guests begin to emerge from their hiding spots. 

“MULDER!” Scully yells, pushing him lightly. “That’s not funny!” Mulder doesn’t respond. His laughter has overtaken him and rendered him incapable of speaking. The other guests stifle their grins as her panic slowly subsides. 

“It wasn’t meant to be funny!” he gasps, trying to regain his composure. “It was meant to be a surprise.” His hands are on her shoulders now, gently guiding her out of the doorway and farther into the apartment. “So, uh… surprise?”

Scully glances up at him, her face breaking into a smile in spite of herself. She shakes her head at him, heart bursting with affection as he meets her look with a delighted grin. From the kitchen, Langly blows a party horn. The guests begin to clap and cheer. Mulder jokingly takes several exaggerated bows as Scully buries her smile in both her hands, the room breaking into a flurry of party activities.      

————————

Some time after midnight, when the guests have cleared out and it’s finally just the two of them, Scully and Mulder sit side-by-side on Mulder’s couch, faces alight with the teal glow of his fish tank. Their shoulders are pressed firmly together, feet resting on the coffee table as they lean into the comfort of his couch. Scully’s head rests lightly on Mulder’s shoulder. 

“Mulder,” Scully says thoughtfully.

“Hm?” Mulder responds.

“In all the years that I’ve known you, you have had some remarkably terrible ideas.” Scully pauses. “But I have to say… this was–by a long shot–the absolute worst idea you have ever had.” Scully turns her head and angles it slightly up toward Mulder, just enough to glimpse the expression on his face. The smile on his face warms his voice and fills Scully’s heart with renewed affection.

“Hey, I think you were the problem,” he quips. “The idea itself was very nice.” Scully presses a grin into his shoulder.

“I guess it is a nice idea,” Scully concedes. She shifts slightly so she can wrap her right arm around his left, tacitly thanking him for his thoughtfulness and care. Mulder’s smile deepens as he finds her hand and intertwines it with his. He rubs his thumb back and forth and Scully squeezes his hand. “And you did manage to surprise me.” 

Mulder glances down, meeting Scully’s gaze with a satisfied grin as she smiles up at him. 

“I am never throwing you a surprise party again.”

[gojoest]

i do not like the tone in this message so i respectfully blocked you, but there is something i’d like to address since you’re obviously accusing me of something (?)

i did not put hours of effort into my theme, it’s the most basic layout out there but yeah in a way i still recognize it as mine, it’s my choice of aesthetic and i’ve had this layout for ages. so yeah it’s kind of my brand — in my eyes at least. and likewise, i am not putting any effort into having a certain vibe on this god forsaken app — i am just being myself and talking about my interests

if someone decides to copy my theme and vibes around here (as ridiculous as this sounds), there’s nothing i can do about it. does it bother me? yes, to an extent it does, and i can bitch about it here and there but i can also turn a blind eye to it since i didn’t put my blood and sweat into that aesthetic or having a certain image on tumblr dot com (💀) even if it’s irritating to watch, at the end of the day it’s not that serious

but if that “copying” turns into plagiarism of my writing and ideas — then i am not going to let it slide (this does not include ppl talking about the same tropes). i would be really upset and address it properly bc i put a lot of effort and hours into them. i hope this answers your question and helps you make sense of the situation

obviously i am not okay with ppl copying me in general — this includes my writing, imitating me one way or another or copying my layouts and themes. i don’t think anyone would be okay with that to begin with. but there are things you bring up and shed light on and things you don’t for the sake of being the bigger person and keeping this place peaceful and drama free

[distant--shadow]

Okay, I have three (3) thoughts about the state of cr's talkback shows atm and I've decided to write them in your ask box. Feel free to ignore:

I think the quality of the questions in the fireside chat was strongly linked to 4sd and, mainly, the tower of inquiry. As much as I like the idea of having a section where evergreen questions can be asked, they really lean towards the “what if the world was made of pudding?” genre of questions and I think that - combined with the attention that gets drawn to the questions by the Jenga game and the milque-toast-ness of the other questions on 4sd - has encouraged the fandom to discuss and focus on those questions more than we used to.

I also really miss the fact that talk machina had a presenter (who, for the sake of clarity, was fired for obvious reasons and I’m not, in any way, advocating for him to come back). The fact that both the presenter of 4sd and order of questions in the tower of inquiry and deep dive sections are random, means that whether the cast elaborate on their answers is up to chance. I feel like, with the cast being more detached from the fanbase than they used to (for good reason) there really should be someone on screen who knows what questions were answered in the past and can guide the conversation so that they don’t spend 10 minutes discussing “think about this AU” questions and then only give in-depth character analysis a single sentence before being distracted by a joke or running out of time. To be clear, this isn’t a criticism of the cast at all, you can’t both give really good, in-depth answers to questions while also coming up with your own follow-up questions and staying engaged in and shaping the discussion as a whole. I’d say Dani is the obvious pick for a presenter but I think her interests are more in the shippy/fanon side (which is fine, I’m not trying to police how anyone interacts with the show) so I’d prefer her questions to be interjections rather than the whole thing.

This campaign has had a significant percentage of it’s talkback shows taken up by overlap with other stuff (party splits, vox machina and the mighty nein getting their own eps, overlap with calamity and downfall etc.) and, in an ideal world, I’d want them to do separate that stuff out and do extra shows about that, rather than letting it eat into valuable question answering time for bells hells.

All this to say: if cr wants to make a talkback show specifically tailored to me, I'm down with them flying me out to America so I can host my new talkback show called “AU? No thank you!” where we exclusively talk about bells hells and all hypotheticals are banned. Nobody but me would enjoy it but I'm the main character of my story so...

appreciate you engaging and putting your thoughts out there via my inbox!

I agree with most of this, I can respect what they were trying with 4sd but yeah it did not deliver the meat that talks did, and I would love to have a simple discussion show like that back (at one point I would have suggested dani as host too, but if anything these fireside and 4sd eps have proven that she is way too fanon-brained/shipping inclined and I personally, can't stand when she interjects without being asked for an answer (though correcting lore is a different case and pretty much always appreciated))

I can deal with a little amount of what if the world was pudding type questions, but ultimately yeah, it does come across as "so what if we got a different story than the one you chose to give us?" there are cases when yeah maybe it wasn't as conscious as a decision or another factor where yeah, I would like to know the alternative, but i agree with ya there.

I will also say that yes, I do think the shape of the questions selected is in part to match the more laid back and goofy vibes of 4sd, the evergreen questions and such really are not a good choice and absolutely there wa sso much going on during this campaign that reaaaallly broke up the momentum (momentum which still managed to feel oppressive), but i would say I do also think an amount of it is just how modern fandom is, to sound like an old guy yelling at a cloud. so many things come into play here, parasocial stuff, attention spans, isolation and selfishness, populatiry contests within fandoms and how that births popular works/notions from fanon being perceived as canon law, etc etc.

as I keep saying, I want people to make, I want people to have fun, but it's a yeowch from me when that feeds back into the source material, or at least spin offs of it. I do think it is a case of both parties being somewhat guilty, ask baby questions get baby answers, if people engage with fanservice and it gets views then they're gonna cater to that because they need eyes on them to exist as a company. I'm really not the person to be doing the write ups about this, but i do think it's important to share my opinions on my most beloved piece of media, in some ways especially because I create so much "content" for it.

I've pretty much always felt like an outsider within fandom space, and whether that's because of what I want out of it, what I want to see for my favourite characters, or my behaviour, or my work - I don't know, but i do know that for years of watching this show I kept well away from the fandom space or even sharing my drawings caus I didn't want it to hinder my experience and enjoyment of watching, and when the stuff I've been trying to avoid is seeping it's way into the actual shows then yeah, it is something I wanna speak out on.

[forunct]

[3:49 am] ♡ + drunk!reader, caring!jungwoo

you’ve been out with your best friends celebrating their engagements all night. you had spent all day yesterday helping their partners plan both proposals, one was an intricate scavenger hunt through their favorite hiking trails and the other was a surprise photoshoot with an elaborate background. it was really difficult keeping the both of them distracted for the day, considering how close the three of you are but you made it happen. it warmed your heart to see their faces as their partners popped the question. it left you with just the smallest bit of jealousy though, things with jungwoo are great but you’re not sure what the next step is if not an engagement and that worries you.

things are starting to slow down at the club and you’re missing jungwoo and his warm embrace. your friends are starting to float towards the bar to order glasses of water, and you’re starting to think this is the perfect time to call it a night.

“i'm starting to get tired,” you drag out the word tired to emphasize your exhaustion. they both nod in agreement, this has been the latest you guys have stayed out since college.

one by one, each of your ubers showed up to take you back to your respective homes and partners. you’ve had quite a bit to drink so your reaction time is severely off. jungwoo startles you as he swings the front door open while you search for your keys.

“jeez, you scared the crap out of me!” your hand is over your heart trying to get it to slow while he looks at you. jungwoo mumbles a half coherent apology as you take in his appearance. his hair is disheveled, he’s in his pajama pants, and no shirt. you assume he was sleeping before he heard the uber pull in the driveway. he’s pulling you inside before you can even form any kind of greeting.

“i’ve been waiting for you for hours y/n,” jungwoo walks you to the couch to help you take off your heels. “you told me you’d be back by 2 am, not 4 am, baby.” you can hear the concern in his voice, you clearly worried him.

“i know and i’m sorry, we were only supposed to go to two bars but we were having so much fun and got a little carried away. i should’ve texted you.” your voice is small, you know what you did was wrong.

“yeah, you should’ve,” jungwoo’s tone is sharp as he’s helping you take off your jacket and the hair pins from your hair. “i could’ve picked you up, y/n. you know how i feel about ubering this late.” the guilt is racking up by the second and all of the emotions from the night are starting to make your throat close up.

“i’m really sorry i worried you jungwoo,” your voice started to crack and he immediately took you in his arms, obviously regretting using such a stern voice on you when you’re drunk.

“i’m sorry i’m being snappy, baby. it’s just late and i haven’t slept since you left.” jungwoo’s voice is just above a whisper as he tucks your head under his chin. he’s rubbing small circles into your hip as you curl into a ball next to him.

“do you want to marry me?” the question comes as a surprise to both of you after it leaves your lips. it’s a question you’ve been wanting an answer to for awhile, you were just unsure of how to ask it, turns out being blunt was the best way to get it out.

jungwoo’s silence is deafening to you, it feels like it goes on for minutes when in reality it only takes him thirty seconds to give you an answer.

“1000% yes. that’s a no-brainer, my love. i want to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you.” you can hear the smile on jungwoo’s face and your heart warms after he tells you exactly what his intentions are. you prop yourself up on your knees to see his face, just looking at him makes you smile ear-to-ear.

“i love you too, jungwoo. so much.” he smiles back at you, his eyes leaving yours for a second to steal a glance at your lips before leaving you breathless in a heated kiss.

[winchesterwild78]

Second Take pt 3

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys

Warnings: Angst, mention of divorce, soft smut (nothing too graphic…yet 😉)

A/N: Jensen and Reader are together and share a vulnerable moment. They decide to keep their relationship a secret for now. Before filming starts, the reader gets ready to fly back to Texas with Jensen. Jensen and Danneel decide to tell the kids. 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. 

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few days Jensen and I worked on mending our relationship. We made the decision to keep our relationship private for now. We didn’t want any problems for Danneel, Jensen or the kids, especially the kids. 

Since we hadn’t started filming yet, Jensen was flying back to Texas so he and Danneel could tell the kids about the divorce. I could tell he was nervous. 

I pulled him close to me and wrapped my arms around his waist, “Babe, it’s going to be okay. I’m sure there will be tears and lots of questions, but with you and D as a united front on this, they will be okay. 

I looked up at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Come home with me.” I looked up at him with shock in my eyes, “What?” “Come home with me, back to Texas. I’m staying in a hotel and you and I can spend time together. It would mean so much to me to have you there. I’ll get you your own room so it doesn’t raise suspicion. You can visit Moose too. I know he and Gen would love to see you.”

“Can I think about it? I really don’t want to cause problems or make D uncomfortable.” He smirked. “What’s so funny, Ackles?” His lips ghosted mine, “You are. You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. You being concerned about D proves my point.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips but pulled away before it got too heavy. 

We decided to wait to have sex. We didn’t put a time frame on it, but we knew we didn’t want to rush it. It was damn near impossible to resist him and he knew it. 

The night before he was leaving Jensen and I were spending a quiet evening at my place. We ordered some food and we were going to hang out and watch a movie. At least that was the plan. 

We ordered the food and were getting comfortable on the couch. When Jensen’s phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from Danneel. 

“Sorry babe, I need to take this.” I nodded and stood up to give him some privacy. 

I walked in the kitchen as he answered, it was JJ. 

“Hey JJ. How are you, baby?” She sniffled, “Daddy are you coming home?” 

“Yes baby, why? I’ll be home tomorrow.” She looked at Jensen and got quiet. “Baby, it’s okay. What happened?” “Uncle Gino came over cause mommy was crying and I heard them talking about you and mommy told Uncle Gino you had a girlfriend and you weren’t coming home.” 

Jensen’s jaw clenched and he ran his fingers through his hair. I stood leaning against the counter in shock. I couldn’t believe she’d do that. 

“Baby I promise I’ll be home tomorrow. We have some things to talk about, but I promise I will be there. Where’s your mama?”

JJ sighed and smiled a little bit at him. “She’s downstairs with Uncle Gino. I took her phone to call you.” “It’s okay baby girl. Can you take the phone to mommy? I want to talk to her.” “Okay, Daddy. I love you.” “I love you too, baby.” 

My heart clenched in my chest. Being with Jensen is so easy and it’s sometimes easy to forget he has children and a life outside our little bubble. 

“Hey Jensen.” I could hear her. “Danneel, I thought we agreed to tell the kids together and before we told anyone else?” 

“We did. I haven’t told the kids anything.” “No, but you told Gino and JJ heard you. You told him I had a girlfriend?! What the hell D?!” 

I couldn’t see them, but I knew Jensen was mad. “Well it’s the truth. You do have a girlfriend.” “D don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t have a boyfriend yourself. Yeah, I know all about him and how he’s been coming over for a few months after I leave and the kids go to sleep or school.” 

“How did you know?!” “Cameras, D.” 

She gasped, “Jens, I can explain.” 

The doorbell rang and I walked to open the door. As I walked past I saw Jensen hold his hand up, “Stop Danneel. I don’t care about your boyfriend, but you’re not going to turn yourself into the victim here. We are moving forward with the divorce, we are telling our children together and we will coexist peacefully regardless of who we have in our lives. Our children deserve that.”

“I’ll talk to JJ and try to explain what I can. When are you getting in tomorrow?” 

Jensen let out a sigh, “My plane lands about 9 in the morning. I’ll go check into the hotel and head to the house.” 

“Jens, why are you staying in a hotel?” “D I think it would be best if I didn’t stay at the house.” 

“Jensen, don’t be like that. I think you should stay here for the sake of the kids. We’re about to tell them their parents are splitting up. You don’t think that’s going to be hard on them?”

Jensen ran his hand down his face and sighed, “I know it’s going to be hard on them, hell it’s hard on me, I just don’t want them to be confused if I’m still staying at the house.” 

“Jens, stay in the guestroom. They are going to need both of us.” “Fine, I’ll stay at home.”

I gasped softly in the kitchen when I heard him. I was planning on going with him, but now was it worth me going if he was staying with her? 

My heart clenched in my chest and the familiar feeling of jealousy started to creep in my mind. He loves me. He wants to be with me. They are done, but they have a history together. She’s the mother of his children. She’s beautiful.

Tears pricked my eyes. I was worried and didn’t know how to tell him. 

I heard him groan as he stood and I heard his heavy steps coming towards the kitchen. 

I quickly wiped my eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. My back to the door as Jensen came into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush to his chest.

Jensen moved my hair away from my neck and placed a soft kiss to my pulse point. “Hey, sorry about that.” “It’s fine. Is JJ okay?” “Yeah, she heard D telling Gino about the divorce.”

I nodded, “I’m glad she’s okay.” My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. Jensen picked up on it and turned me to face him. I lowered my head, a lump formed in my throat.

He tilted my chin up, “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong baby?” I took in a shaky breath and let it out. “I don’t think I’m going to go with you. I’d just be in the way.” 

Jensen’s brows furrowed, “What? No, you wouldn’t be. D and I will tell the kids and then we will figure out what to do from there.” “I heard you, Jensen. You’re staying at the house. If you’re with the kids I don’t want to take time away from them. I know I could go visit Jared and Gen, but I can’t stay there with them all day and all night. You need to focus on your children, not me. I love you Jensen, I can’t keep you from taking care of them. You go and I’ll stay here.” 

Jensen’s face fell. “I understand, but I really want you to be there. I know I’m staying at the house, but I would still come to the hotel and be with you.” I scoffed. The sad and angry feeling in my chest grew. 

Jensen looked at me, “What? Why did you scoff?” Jensen’s eyes searching mine for answers. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea. I feel like a dirty secret. I know we agreed to keep our relationship between us for now, but you were mine first. You should have married me, those children should be mine! Damnit Jensen, she’s taken everything from me and now I can’t even be with you. I have to stay in a hotel room and wait for you to return to me like I’m a cheap whore. I’m worth more than that. I DESERVE more than that. I would never do anything to hurt your children. They didn’t ask to be born and they deserve so much. I just want to feel like I’m worthy of your time and love too.”

The tears I had been holding started to fall heavy and fast. My chest heaving. The anger and hurt from the past 13 years finally boiling over. 

Jensen pulled me tight in his arms and held me. I sobbed into his chest. “Baby you’re not a dirty secret, and you’re right I should be married to you, but I’m not. I made a choice all those years ago, but baby I’m making one now and it’s you. It will always be you. You’re not a cheap whore, you’re the love of my life, my soulmate, my home. I never stopped loving you and I never will. If you don’t want to go home with me I understand. I want you to go, but it’s your choice.” 

He gently wiped the tears away and kissed my forehead. My breath hitched as I held him tighter. 

“Jensen, I think you should go. I need some space. Some time to think and I can’t do that with you here.” A lump formed in my throat and my heart broke. 

Jensen pulled back a little and looked in my eyes. His green eyes filled with hurt and sadness, “Y/N, please don’t push me away. We can figure this out, but only if we do it together.” 

I shook my head, “I know, but I need time Jensen.” He nodded, “I understand. I love you, Y/N. Call me when you’re ready to talk.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips, grabbed his stuff and left. 

I stood in the spot I was in frozen and couldn’t move. The familiar feeling of him leaving all those years again was filling my heart and soul. 

I pulled out my phone, ready to call anyone who would listen when I heard a knock on the door. 

I walked over, opened the door and gasped, “Jensen?!” He stepped in, dropped his bag and pulled me to him, crashing his lips on mine. 

When he pulled away he cupped my face, “I made the mistake of not fighting for you all those years ago and I’m not going to do it again. I love you and you’re in my life for the rest of it. I don’t care who sees us or what anyone has to say about it. I’m going to tell the kids tomorrow with Danneel about the divorce and then I’m coming back to the hotel to be with you. If the kids want to come they can, but I’m not letting you go again. I’m not letting us go again. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Now and forever.” 

I stood in stunned silence. The pain I was feeling started to heal a little. He was choosing me, choosing us and damn it felt good. I kissed him softly. “What about Danneel?” “I’ll tell her it’s not a good idea for me to stay there and offer to let the kids come to the hotel if they want to. I don’t want them to be confused about me staying there after we tell them we are splitting up. I’ll look for a place in Texas so the kids can have a place when I come home. Better yet, we should look for a place in Texas. A place for us and the kids. What do you say? Let’s find a place in Texas and move in together.” 

I looked stunned, “Jens, this is all happening so fast. Let’s slow down a bit. You find a place in Texas, and if and when I decide to move it with you I will just move into your place. I can help you find a place if you want.”

He nodded, “Okay, I understand. I just don’t want to waste any more time when it comes to our relationship.” I placed my hands on his chest, “We aren’t wasting time, we are learning how to be together again. As long as we’re together it doesn’t matter if we live under the same roof or not. I think we shouldn’t live together until your divorce is final.” 

Jensen agreed. “Will you at least still come to Texas with me tomorrow?” “Yes, Jensen. I’d love to.”

He smiled, pulled me close and kissed me. The kiss deepened quickly. Before either of us could process what was happening we were laying on the bed making out. 

My heart hammered in my chest, our eyes dark with lust. Jensen’s lips ghosted mine, “Do you want to stop?” I took a deep breath, “No. I’m ready, Jensen.”

Jensen’s hands slowly removed my clothes and then his. Goosebumps erupted on my skin due to the chilly air and the anticipation. 

His lips ghosting over my body and making my breath catch in my throat. “Do you want more, baby?” I moaned and nodded. “Use your words sweetheart.” “Yes, Jensen. Please make love to me. Take me now.” 

Jensen’s body hovered over mine as he finally took me. I grabbed the sheets and gasped as he filled and stretched me with every inch he had to offer. 

I had forgotten how amazing he felt. Our bodies moved in perfect sync and the sounds that filled my bedroom were like silent prayers to heaven. About an hour later Jensen was laying on his back and I was on his chest. His fingers drew delicate patterns on my skin. 

“That was incredible, Y/N. God I missed you.” “Yes it was, Jensen. I missed you too. I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I haven’t really dealt with the pain of the past.” 

“Shh, no, don’t apologize. You have every right to still be angry. I’m glad you were able to get some of that out. I’m sure you’re still holding on to some more. I just hope one day you will be able to get it out.” 

“Honestly the only thing I’m still holding on to is the loss of our baby. When you left I figured if I had our baby at least I’d still have a piece of you, of our love with me. Then I lost the baby and I just felt so alone. I lost the love of my life, and our baby and it hurt so much.” 

His thumb rubbed softly over my cheek, “I am still so sorry you went through that alone. If I knew I would have been by your side. Maybe eventually we could try again. Have a baby of our own, if it’s something you’d want.”

“You’d want another child? You have three already.” “I do, and they are amazing, but I don’t have any with you and I’d love to have at least one with you.” 

I smiled softly, “We can talk about it. Just not right now. We need to sleep. We have an early flight. I love you, Jensen. Good night.” 

“I love you too, Y/N. Good night.” 

He kissed my lips and the two of us relaxed against each other and drifted off to sleep. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom @djs8891

@pughsexual @spnaquakindgdom

@lunaleah @amberlthomas 

@impala67rollingthroughtown

[art3m1spng]

— There is really no other way of saying besides yes. I did, in fact, just decide to make a Dratchet fankid and upon that, I fear he has become my new fixation. Regardless,

{{ Meet Abrasion! Initially a medic under Ratchet, but has dropped his apprenticeship with him to be a swordsman like his sire. }}

— He is an emotionally constipated mess, to be honest. Bit of a people pleaser and perfectionist, but hey. It is called trying to please either your carrier or sire for your whole life despite really, they are both proud of you and you shouldn't have to feel so inclined to making them proud all the time for some validation. Yeah. He's that kind of traumatized, unfortunately.

— I honestly do highly encourage you guys (even the followers I suddenly have accummulated, like damn where did you guys come from /lhj) to ask questions about him in my question inbox. He will PROBABLY be my main source of content for now until I get something together. Just be sure your questions are appropriate enough for me to answer !!

Anyways, yeah. I'll be dropping more stuff with Abrasion here and there, so expect plenty of things to figure out about this angsty mech.

(A/N: Above art isn't mine. Left character is a SoundBlast fankid made by a good friend of mine; let's say there's things going on with them... ✨)

[spencersbabymama]

Numbers l Chapter Three

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC

Content Warning: Disability, negative self talk, blushing Spencer, talk of bizarre piercing fetish

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Brooke is thrust into work and it's not exactly what she expects.

Taglist: @just-call-me-by-yn @esote-rika

A/n: Thank you all for reading so far! Working on this fic has really made me fall in love with writing again 🩷🩷🩷 Also again, credit to @just-call-me-by-yn for always making my banners! I love you!

Story:

Luckily, Hotch had apparently worked closely with Penelope to explain the adaptive tech I use to run a pc efficiently.  So now I was helping her rummage through my backpack.  I have to admit watching her pull out various tangled plugs was an entertaining sight.  At first I wanted to apologize for not having my equipment more organized, but Penelope was so proud of herself every time she untangled a new wire. It was like a game to her.  

While that fiasco was going on, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Spencer dragging his finger down each page of the case file then turning each page about every 15 seconds.  His eyes tracked each word at lightning speed.  Honestly it looked like when a kid pretends to read to get it over with.  I know I should probably just leave him be, but my curiosity outweighed manners.  My eyebrows furrow in his direction “Are you really reading that fast?”

His head snapped up to look at me “Hm?” He looked confused at first but after a second he let out a small laugh under his breath like he was a little embarrassed and nodded softly “Yeah…”

My mouth opened to ask obvious follow up questions, like most notably, how on earth is that even humanly possible? But I was quickly cut off.

Spencer cleared his throat before continuing “Actually our conscious minds can process 16 bits of information per second, while our unconscious mind can process 11 million.  So to answer your question, yes I really can read this fast.”

There goes my stunned face again and I blinked at the guy for a moment.  I wasn’t sure if I should be disturbed, or wildly impressed by this guy’s smarts, I was mostly in awe. He was like a human computer.  I like computers, so we’ll probably get along.  

My face softened and I giggled softly “Cool.”

That same pink tint creeped across Spencer’s cheeks as he smiled, then went back to reading the case file.

Did this guy ever get complimented?  This was the second time he blushed in my direction and I wasn’t sure what I was doing to cause it.  Honestly it was kind of… cute in a boyish kind of way.

“Ah ha!” Penelope cheered, making me turn around to see her proudly displaying all my equipment set up.  

I smiled and guided my wheelchair up to the desk, making sure everything I would need is plugged in.  Although there was probably no need to doubt Penelope, her portion of the desk had three separate monitors she had to run, a few plugs were most likely nothing to her.

Penelope hung my backpack on the back of my wheelchair before taking her seat next to me “Should we take this for a spin?” She grinned.

I smiled back, unable to hide my eagerness to get started.  Penelope handed me the small mouse that fits in my hand along with the touchpad keyboard and I signed into my system for the first time.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Snapshots of different message exchanges appear on my screen.  It took a little bit of time, but after about an hour, Penelope, Spencer, and I managed to find one common person all the missing women have had contact with.  Their username was Hotrod94, if that doesn’t scream man who thinks he’s a gift from God I don’t know what does.  The back and forth text exchanges stopped completely within 3 days so the timeline fit.  Now us 3 were looking through each conversation for any info we could find that could tell us anything about where these women could be, or who took them.

Each message seemed normal, too normal.  It was almost haunting how the person on the other side of the screen could sound so charming.  No matter how smart or vigilant these women were, they didn’t have a chance.

“These poor girls had no idea what they were walking into…” Penelope sighed under her breath.  I could hear the empathy and hopelessness she was feeling for these women on the screen.

I couldn’t help but feel it myself.  It was one thing to talk about it, but looking into the eyes of each woman now, only made the urgency to find them stronger.  During training they tell you don’t get emotionally involved, don’t let yourself go there.  It will cloud your judgment.  Sure, most of that is true, but now that I was here, empathy is what was pushing me.

Spencer stuck his head between us to get a better look at the screens.  His eyes squinted like he was trying to focus on something.  You didn’t have to look at him hard to see the hamsters running on a wheel in his head.  With that brain of his, those hamsters were probably running a marathon at lightning speed.  The poor creatures probably don’t know what rest even is.

His face was only a few inches from mine but for some unexplainable reason, he felt closer.  It was like my personal bubble doubled in size to fit him inside.  My gaze kept flickering in his direction before I realize what I’m doing and my attention goes back to the screen in front of me.  That cycle went on about 3 times before Spencer finally spoke.

He used his pen he had been fidgeting with and pointed to one of the sentences sent by the unsub. “He never uses I in a sentence, it’s almost like he's trying to distance himself from each woman.”

Penelope scoffed, “Well if I had a soul and I was manipulating these women anyway, I’d do the same.”

I try not to laugh, but a small snicker slipped through anyways.  It was going to be fun sitting next to this sass every day.

I look back at the screen like before, but this time something sticks out.  My eyes narrow as I tap a few keys to zoom in on each woman's ear.  It can’t be, it’s probably a reach.  “Is it just me, or do all these women have double piercings on their ears?  That’s probably a coincidence, right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.  I didn’t want my voice to show I wasn’t confident in my findings.

Spencer looks over at my screen before shaking his head “No… that actually makes sense…”  His voice trails off like he was still thinking.  Then he stood up straight to continue “Actually that could be huge for the profile.  There’s a fetish called Piquerism.  Essentially it’s when someone feels aroused by piercing another.  Most commonly by stabbing or slashing, but it can occur when the person has a simple ear piercing.”

“Ew.” Penelope shudders.

I was still reeling from the way Spencer spit out that information like it was common knowledge.  He almost seemed proud of himself for having that in his back pocket.

He clearly didn’t pick up on the creeped out looks on Penelope and I’s face because he continued like nothing happened “Penelope, can you let the team know?”

She shuddered one more time before nodding.  

I was too much in my head to pay attention to her calling the team.  This was my new reality.  Dealing with potential creeps like this was now my usual.  I knew it was going to be hard sitting in front of these screens every day and looking at the horrors that dance across them, but now that I was here, I was afraid nightmares were going to find me in my sleep every night.  How did these people do it?  Maybe I don’t have the stomach for this.  

I glanced over at the numerous toys on Penelope’s side of the desk and the dark cloud that was forming over my head started to break up to let light in.   The bright colors drowning out the darkness.  

“That was- um… A good catch Beven.” Spencer stuttered quietly enough that the call didn’t pick up his voice.

I look up to see him smiling softly.  Even though those words seemed shaky, they gave me a surge of confidence.  Hearing I did something good from someone as smart as him made me want to give myself a pat on the back.  My lips curl into a smile.

I already considered Penelope a friend, but it seemed like I can add Dr. Spencer Reid to that list.  Leading up to today I was so nervous how the team would perceive me, wheelchair and all.  I was lucky for most of my life I was surrounded by people who didn’t see me as different.  My parents, my family, and my friends never made me feel like I was less than.  The professional scene always seemed a little daunting though.  I knew what it looked like to any bystander, she can barely lift her arms, how is she supposed to be anything else than the greeter at Walmart?  I get it, honestly I would probably say the same thing if I was them.  Regardless, I knew I had more in me, and I was grateful everyone here saw what I could do, not what I can’t.

“Bevan, can you come with a list of tattoo parlors that also provide piercings in the general area of the abductions?” Hotch’s voice catches my attention through the call system “We’re gonna split up and find out who frequents the most.”

I quickly nodded, giving a “Yes sir.” Before he assigns Penelope a cross checking assignment. 

My fingers tap away, narrowing down a list of parlors that aren’t close to the abduction sights.  After a minute, I relay the list to Hotch, followed by him thanking me.  

Penelope hangs up before giving me a high 5 “Good work Newbie.  Someday you might be as fast as yours truly.” She jokes while resting her chin on her hands.

I snicker and shake my head “I appreciate that, but I watch you type and I don’t think I could ever get there.”

“Hm…” Penelope smirks before turning back to her computer screens “You're smart too, Newbie.  I am the best.”

Now Spencer and I laugh.