#this is based on an actual con between my sister and me

[dazeddoodles]

How they were at amusement parks:

Eda: Total dare devil

Lilith: Also total dare devil

Raine: Scared of the big rides

Darius: Scared of the people who get sick on the big rides

The Hags and their kids at Disneyland (they snuck in without tickets)

Eda: C'mon you gotta go on at least one roller coaster while we're here

Raine: Um. Is there anything tame?

Lilith: There's Gadget's Go Coaster

Eda: The sexy rat?

Lilith: Don't call her that...

Eda: Fine Rainestorm, let's take King to the baby coaster

Alador: Where are you guys going?

Eda: Gadget's Roller Coaster.

Alador: Oh I love Gadget!

Eda: You would 💀

Alador: ?

[lacybunie]

adieu, mon dieu!

“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”

pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon

warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon

note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do

“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.

so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.

the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.

her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.

“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better peace of mind. “c’mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.

the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”

yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.

“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust

how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.

“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”

“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”

different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”

“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.

two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.

the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.

“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?

“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.

“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.

you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.

back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.

leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.

your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.

the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.

“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.

leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair covers leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.

leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.

if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”

sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.

[noirgasmweetheart]

Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to lay to rest the $3.99 that I blew renting "the Constant Nymph" on YouTube.

Who knows what that four bucks could have become, had fate been kinder? A Reese's Big Cup? A triple cheeseburger from McDonald's? An IronStrange sticker from Twin Cities Con? A pet rock from a thrift shop? An over-priced Frappuccino? The possibilities are endless, the lost potential infinite.

(Cue bagpipes).

Spoilers below

I knew the movie wasn't good, but I had at least hoped to get some screencaps of the elegant outfits, and some clips of Peter Lorre being sexy. I've never had trouble taking screencaps or recording clips from YouTube rentals in the past. But someone really doesn't want me sharing anything from this movie.

Possibly because of the pedophilia.

Yes, this "romance" is about a tween girl in an overall dress and pigtails lusting for a 50-tear-old pimp, and briefly her 80-year-old uncle. And the 50-year-old pimp lusts for the pigtailed preteen dressed like Ragedy Anne. The pimps wife, rather than be horrified for her (I think) child sister, is instead just jealous. While Lady Slut and Mini-Slut spar over Count Geezer, Peter Lorre glides in thr background like a raven, alternating between looking sexy and looking dismayed.

"When I did this in 'M,' all the crooks in the city organized an epic manhunt, stuffed me in a bag, tossed me down a staircase, put me on trial and tried to execute me. But when a rich asshole does it it's 'romantic?'"

Alright I'll admit it, I didn't watch the whole movie. I skimmed around. Even without the gross pedo plot, it's just boring as balls to me. But God damn, there were so many cool outfits and hairstyles and cool rooms I wanted to screencap. And I wanted to clip PL's scenes to share with the fan base.

"Why are so many of my most attractive roles in my worst movies?"

The movie ends with a tragic death. The death of my $3.99. I think Mini-Slut also dies, from boredom maybe. Oh, spoiler.

Ok Charles Boyer isn't really a "geezer" at this age, he's actually a pretty attractive older man...EXCEPT in this movie, where he absolutely IS a geezer compared to his love interest who resembles a freaking Powerpuff Girl.

Great, now I'm seeing this gross movie retold in my head with the Professor and Bubbles in the lead rolls, Ms. Bellum as the jealous wife, the Mayor as the monocled uncle, and Mojo Jojo as Fritz, just channeling the audience's reaction.

[vaimetanyx]

Every time I put this thing on I'm scared I'm going to take someone's eye out with these spikes. However with this much glue in a wig it means I have to do very little upkeep between cons!

(Full process under the cut)

[Skull pauldron] [Belt] [Greaves] [Toga + sash] [Wig + Laurels] [Armbands] [Flaming feet] [Satyr Sack] [Stygius v1] [Stygius v2] [Nectar]

This was my first time ever styling a wig beyond some brushing and hairspray as I did for my Snufkin cosplay. The base wig I used was Apollo in black from Epic Cosplay Wigs, and it was really good to work with! I probably should have shaken it out and used the hair dryer to make it more fluffy before I started, but I made it work in the end

To start off - gather reference images, and section out all the main points!

Then get your sister to teach you how to shape a spike. Don't fuck it up. Repeat this for all the other major spikes using the hairspray you bought 3 years ago, your mum's hairdryer because you don't own one, and PVA glue to keep those spikes sharp and everything together because you still don't know exactly what you're doing.

Then it's time to make a bunch of little spikes for the back, most of this will be covered up by the laurels. But damn, there's gaps, because a bunch of these spikes go up when the wefts go down! A smarter and/or more experienced cosplayer would have bought more wefts to sew in to thicken the hair and cover gaps. But who needs that when you've kept all the hair you cut off when making the spikes and you can hairspray and glue that into place to hide your mistakes!

While praying that no one notices the half kilo of glue that is now your wig, time for the laurels! I actually went through three versions - the first version I discarded straight away because my wig wasn't done when I started, and as a result of not being able to compare it was WAY too bulky, heavy, and didn't cover the right area. It did look pretty though. The second was what I wore to my first con - wire and some mesh material with the 'leaves' glued directly on. The leaves for both these versions were made of 3 layers of cheap fake material petals glued together, folded and painted - honestly too much work for the end result but it is what it is.

The third laurel's leaves are made of a thin wire covered in plastic laminate, left over from years ago when we used to cover our school books in it. Cut into the right shape, I then painted them, making sure to paint in the direction of the leaves 'veins' so when held up to the light they'd look more realistic. After that they were wrapped around a single thick bit of wire and a few sections hot glued for security.

Finally it could be attached to the wig! I just used a bit of thread and sewed them on in a few places, then adjusted the leaves to sit right. For an extra touch - some of the official art has embers tailing up off the laurels, so I added a few of my own. These are just some spare painted laminate glued to wire, the wire twisted and inserted into the hair.

Part of me wants to try and remake the wig from scratch so it's not such a glue soaked mess, or to go for a more natural look that I could actually brush my hand through like the Studio Grackle trailer, but I wanted a stylised look and I sure ended up with one!

[chososhoeso2]

Okay I know I said a month ago that I was going to consistently post about my game and then I proceeded to note make a single fucking post again. I had to con crunch my sweetheart cosplay which I didn't even finish in time. I'm still working on the cosplay and that's taking up most of my free time in the evenings, so I still can't really take the time to post about the game at this time. BUT I am still working on it and I've officially named it!

The game is called Godlike Reflections. It's a story in three acts (there'll also be a prologue that's unlocked after beating the game). So far there are 8 endings. The game is heavily based on Greek mythology. There's also inspiration from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint (lots of inspo here), AtLA, certain songs (playlist below), art from multiple periods between the 1400s-1900s (mostly renaissance, baroque, and neoclassical), black/white doomed yaoi🙏 (esp stsg), Omori, Baroque Decay games, Faith: The Unholy Trinity, manhwa tropes, and more that I can't think of rn. I want to make a game that has the features that I look for as a player: story rich, replayability, good music, and engaging gameplay. I want it to be rewarding for completionists and achievement hunters, like myself, while not being a slog for speedrunners.

Here's the barest of bones rundown of act one and two (I haven't decided what details I want to consider as spoilers yet, so I'm gonna hold off on giving act three info for now): There are twins (brother and sister) who are fighting their way towards the villain - the leader of the organization that destroyed their home and is trying to rule over everything. However, when they finally confront him, a pit opens up and the brother falls in. As he's falling, the villain dives in after him. The twins are separated and must find a way to reunite, but our hero and villain will have to learn to work together to escape the underground. During this time, the characters learn some hard truths, work on growing stronger, and find out who they are and what they want. Unfortunately, what one character wants isn't always in line with the desires of another.

I'll give some detailed info on the layout, characters, plot points, etc. in follow up posts. Just wanted to give these little pieces for now. I'm slowly learning how to draw, so don't expect any actual pics of characters for a while. I still know how they'll look though, so I'll post pics that show what I'm thinking of.

Here's a playlist I made of songs that either inspired aspects of the game (i.e., Murders by Miracle Musical [the ending is what made me come up with the game in the first place]), fit the vibe of the game (e.g., The Suburbs by Arcade Fire; Goth by Sidewalks and Skeletons), or might as well be character POVs during certain parts of the game (e.g., Goodnight, Travel Well by the Killers; Alien Blues by Vundabar; 505 by Arctic Monkeys; Nowhere to Run by Stegosaurus Rex).

[grimgrinningghost456]

So I got these two shirts at the con, and I was in full Radio Demon cosplay at the time. Now I’m pretty A-okay with some hazbin ships within the fandom that include Alastor, though in canon the man doesn’t hit me as a relationship man unless we count Rosie as a QPR of sorts. However, I say To each their own! That being said, on with the story!

As I was purchasing these t-shirts of my favorite characters, I realized that I’d be going to the hazbin fandom meetup with said shirts.

“That’s fine,” I thought, unknowing of the future jokes and teases I was about to become the butt of, “ The fandom is wacky but I doubt I’ll be given attention with the Lucifer and Alastor shirts in my arm.”

It was Lucifer and Alastor or literally Any other pair out of Vox, Lucifer, and Al. I’m a simple person who knew I’d only have enough money to buy 2 shirts and a gift for my sister, so Luci and Al it was.

A little bit of background, it was about half an hour away from the big Hazbin hotel and helluva boss meetup and so there was some other Hazbins looking at artist’s alley. One particular person, was a cosplayer as a more human Vox. Their concept was essentially “Human Vox having a lazy day in Valentinos shirt and pjs” (picture of the two of us as a context point)

This individual was very sweet, and was fun to talk with in and out of character. They actually helped me find the shop where the shirts were purchased, as I had been there since the con opened, and more shops had arrived and set up between my first sighting of the store vs the end of the con.

I thought based on our very short and fast friendship, they’d hold their tongue. But boi was I wrong!

They were the first to stare me into the eyes and say smugly “Radioapple. I see you, Al.”

I proceeded to get multiple “attacks” from a Lute, an Adam, a Fizzeroli, and an Angel Dust. (A good chunk of those people ended up being a little clique I spent the rest of my night with. They were all very sweet and generally nice people to be with) Moral of the story? You’re not allowed to have favorites when you’re in cosplay. The shipping world catches up to you FAST.

[pastafossa]

Hey, Pasta! I have a sorta-dumb question, so feel free to ignore it. Soooo, I write fanfic-OC inserts a lot (Daredevil, TFAWS, Shadow and Bone, Daughter of Smoke and Bone), and I used to write the chapters - really more like oneshots - in a Gdoc and webshare it on Twitter because I hate plot and there was no need for any of that fancy fanfic page stuff. However, now that I'm on Tumblr, I have been told that the Gdoc method is insecure and troublesome (true) and that I should, if I may quote my sister, "Just post it in AO3 if you're gonna write so much."

I have the common writer's anxiety, so I've never been comfortable with sharing my work in such a public manner, but I decided that I may just make an AO3 account. But! I wanted the opinion of 1) a seasoned AO3er and 2) a writer I like and admire, so my question for you is: Is AO3 a site that you'd recommend/do you feel like there's a good community over there? Tysm!

This isn't a dumb question at all, and I totally get the anxiety to post in a more public way (and also thank you so much!)! So I've been on AO3 for about seven years now between my Pasta account and my old account. Before that I was a kid posting my first fics on ffn, I tried LiveJournal at one point, and I've obviously posted on tumblr, so I've tried a faaaairly wide variety of fic sites save for something like wattpad. And I have to say, even with its hiccups, AO3 is hands down my favorite fic site to write on, my favorite site to read on, and - imo - the best fic site out there for posting.

The tagging system is unmatched once you get the hang of it, and it makes it so, so gd easy for readers to find your fic based on whatever niche tropes or tags they might be looking for.

The way you can group fics together in a series is incredibly convenient.

They work hard to protect your fics and fic culture, defending it both from larger corporate entities and from puritans who believe fic shouldn’t exist - your content won’t every be swept away overnight like in the ffn purges of 2007 and 2012.

If your fic is plagiarized, they work fast. It took me less than 2 days to get a response from their team when dealing with the plagiarist last week.

No advertising, so not only are they not bound to rules by said advertisers, but your readers are free to read fic uninterrupted by ads (as always, consider donating if you can since they run on donations and are composed largely of volunteers!).

As the number 1 fic site, people will usually search for fics here first, so if you’re looking for readers or a community, this is the place to go.

As a writer, if you’re worried about troll comments, you can set each fic’s comment section to only registered users (so no guest comments). This weeds out the vast majority of trolls since most don’t want to go to the effort of making an account and waiting to get in. You will still sometimes get people willing to do that, or who’ll still go at you with their actual accounts, but I’ve found far less of an issue on AO3 than elsewhere - you can even set it, in that case, to ‘no comments’ or report the comments to AO3.

In my personal experience, the community is far friendlier on AO3 than on other fic posting sites. Probably 95% of my interactions and the reactions I see in other comment sections are positive, and the 5% is broken down 50/50 between either unintentional rudeness or actual trolls, which is manageable.

A few cons, in the interest of full disclosure, although ultimately I feel these are worth it for such a good site:

The site is mostly staffed by volunteers, and while they do their best, functionality updates can take considerable time. We only recently got a block button (preventing certain users from interacting on your fic), for example, and a mute button (so you no longer see fics from certain users) is still a ways off.

Comments are rare. I know there’s a ton of comments on TRT, and I am incredibly grateful for it and for the way it slides into comments on my other fics, but outside of big fics like that, interaction is a lot lower and it’s just something to know going in (although if you’re going from twitter into a fairly popular ship and/or large fandom, you might get way more interactions than from posting on twitter, so it’s all relative!). This is something I’ve found on most sites, and it’s the exact same way on AO3. Your hits will be highest, followed by kudos, and then comments. Generally speaking on oneshots, a 10% kudos to hits ratio early on (before repeat readers begin to push hits higher, since you can only kudos once but add a hit multiple times) is considered quite good. Lower that further for comments. After a bit, stop tracking the ratio because ultimately it’ll become meaningless, especially for chaptered fics where folks come back to read new chapters.

If you’re writing in google docs and try to copy+paste that into AO3′s form as is, you will learn very quickly that ao3 hates google doc formatting. You’ll get weird spaces where they don’t belong (especially if you use italics), the spacing will get fucked, all sorts of hiccups. I use the method from this tumblr post as a workaround. It’s a few extra steps but it’ll help you loads.

Speaking of: using their form to submit a fic definitely takes some getting used to. It’s a bit clunky I’m told, compared to other sites, but stick with it. My biggest advice here is, after pasting your fic in, do not post it yet. Use the preview function to see just how all the formatting is going to turn out. I’ve often found that it looks fine until I preview, and only then do formatting issues show up, which I can then fix. Again, extra work, but worth it for the pros listed above.

Honestly those are the only cons I can think of, and all of them are generally things you can either work around or adjust to as a writer posting there. They’re also absolutely worth it for such a good site, imo, and it’s the best I’ve found out of all of them. I have zero regrets posting on AO3 instead of another site. And I think you’ll come to love it, too, if you decide to join up!

[nellie-elizabeth]

Bob's Burgers: Running Down a Gene (14x04)

Cute episode! I love Tina and Louise getting some sister bonding time in the subplot.

Cons:

Still banging that drum and hoping we'll get a school episode soon. At least we got the library in this one! Also, and I don't mean to harp on things that this episode isn't, instead of appreciating what it is, but... why no Halloween episode? This came out on October 29th!

Pros:

Gene's music aspirations are always so fun to see, I love that he's a blend of genuine talent with silly little kid explorations. The support his family shows him is always touching to me. That's a general theme with this show, that Bob might be exasperated or overwhelmed by the antics of his children, but he never stifles their dreams, either.

Louise and Tina's dream this episode? To catch an annoying cricket that has been chirping and keeping Linda and Bob awake. They set messy traps all over the house and try to lure the insect with an enticing lady companion, all for the promise of $10 (split between them) for their success. This plot thread serves to create another night-time based story to accompany Gene's lucid dream attempts, so we get the whole family up in the middle of the night due to various shenanigans.

The main plot stays focused on Gene. I really loved the way his journey through the dreaming happened. He failed at first, but eventually actually did succeed to getting back to the piano and writing the perfect song he'd originally dreamed about. But then it turns out the song is no good. He then writes a song about the experience of striving for something without being able to reach it, and that becomes the song he's really proud of. But one last narrative twist: he decides not to submit it to the contest, because it's actually too good for such a thing!

I love Gene's confidence, I love his perseverance, I love that he's such a weirdo and he doesn't even care. When I think about the characters in this show I think I often rank Gene below his sisters and parents in terms of who I most like to spend time with, but this episode was a reminder that he's also pretty dang cool!

I'll stop there. I feel like my reviews of this show always come down to, "aww, that was cute, I liked it", and to be honest, that's exactly what I'm always looking for from Bob's Burgers.

8/10

[aeide-thea]

[consent in fiction, content warnings]

i started to make a post abt this earlier and then scrapped it, but like, long and boring details aside, i guess really what i'm still thinking about is the way in which content warnings are, probably inevitably, sometimes so insufficient as to be actively worse than nothing—

like, okay, the specific thing i encountered this morning was a fuck-or-die sex pollen fic tagged as 'no archive warnings apply,' which is obviously, uh, debatable, given that the trope is kind of inherently dub-con at best, but the author had tagged for 'sex pollen' and 'fuck or die,' so i guess those individual tags do give readers a sufficient-if-not-generous heads-up that, like, here be dragons or whatever… but then i actually read the fic in question, bc while i feel neutral abt the trope i've often liked this author's work in the past, and like, the actual consent issue that fucked me up a little was that the sex pollen wasn't just an organic phenomenon or lab accident or whatever, as often, but rather deliberately inflicted on the leads, and not by yr run-of-the-mill Evil Experimenters/Torturers/what-have-you, but rather by… the narrator's ex's sisters, as payback for… his ex's having broken up with him???

which, fine, whatever, people sometimes do fucked up shit and you can certainly include that in a story; but the love interest's reaction to discovering this is just to be 'amused,' while the narrator is like, i'm just relieved my ex is still willing to talk to me! which again, fine, whatever, people do shrug off serious violations of their autonomy out of a desire to maintain social bonds, that also isn't unrealistic or unreasonable to portray in a fic; but that entire aspect of the situation got literally less than 2% of the fic's whole word count devoted to it, i guess because we're in Romance Land where the only thing allowed to have actual emotional weight is intra-relationship developments, and anything outside that context is just meaningless scaffolding, even if in real life it would be a pretty fucking big deal, and probably pretty traumatizing, to find out your ex's family had literally poisoned you???

anyway, sorry, i guess i couldn't restrain myself from going into excruciating detail after all, but tl;dr it's just like. it frankly made me feel much weirder to encounter that plot point in a context where other, more familiar dubcon tropes had been warned for, because it made me feel much more uncertain that the author actually recognized it was an issue! i'd have preferred it if they'd just slapped an 'author chose not to use archive warnings' on the whole thing!

[cw for discussion of a fictional depiction of deliberately painful sex]

reminds me of a fic that fucked me up much more a while back, where a character had consented to sex and consented, too, to poorly-defined punishment, but the form the punishment ended up taking was deliberately-careless penetration that caused the character pain on purpose, and neither the character nor i were braced for that, and while i guess you maybe couldn't say it needed a noncon label, because technically both sex and punishment had been agreed to, it definitely was like. while you-the-author may technically have your bases covered here in a legalistic way, this was definitely a pretty deliberate bait-and-switch that was triggering both for the character it happened to and for me! and like. was it effective as a reading experience? honestly, yeah! i got an emotional journey out of it that really mirrored the character's—method reading, if you will. but do i still resent that author for it, literal years later? also yeah.

anyway i guess basically the thing is like. i'd much rather know i'm venturing into unknown territory and be on my metaphorical toes, than have situations like the above where like, everything is supposedly safely tagged, but the author's standards for that aren't the same as yours, and then something slides between the cracks to sting you?? like, i'm (hopefully obviously) not opposed to content warnings, and do typically provide them on this blog, but there's an extent to which it's like. a guardrail that gets dislodged when you put any actual weight on it is more dangerous, actually, than a wholly unfenced drop…

[triviareads]

Releases on March 28th

Summary:

Lady Gertrude is a pillar of the ton and stuck in an unhappy marriage. She wants to give her debutante daughter Delia more freedom on the marriage mart but her profligate husband has already decided on a spouse for their daughter. Said choice, Jasper Thorne, is the man who propositioned Tru before he knew she was his bride-to-be's mother... and it goes from there.

Some background:

Listen, I know Sophie. I love Sophie. I've read nearly everything Sophie's ever written. My favorites so far have been the books featuring the Langley sisters, the Debutante Files series, and of course her seminal masterpiece of a Texan ex-con series, Devil's Rock. They were hot. Which is why I was surprised that The Countess did not have the follow-through in terms of sex that I was expecting. Like, there were three chapters solely dedicated to Jasper propositioning Tru, not to mention both these characters are not virgins, so I was definitely expecting more time dedicated to sex.

The book I was most inclined to compare this to based on the premise was Sophie's The Scandal of it All, in which the heroine gets with her step-son's best friend. To me, the joke was that Graciela was suuuuper *scandalized* with herself for wanting someone six whole years younger than her. I thought the age gap was negligible at the time so when I read the premise of The Countess, I hoped the age gap would be greater as this is a mother and her daughter's suitor. But alas, it was only four years when I feel like it could have been... more. Like, we really could have sold the "older woman-younger man" thing here, but it didn't happen 🤷🏻‍♀️.

My review:

Tru and Jasper's chemistry was present right off the bat with their darkened garden encounter, and it grew into something true and honest regardless of them having to hide their attraction. Jasper was there for Tru in ways her husband never was. That being said, I finished this book, I couldn't help but feel that the ending was super abrupt and very deus ex machina in resolving loose ends. I'd seen Tru and Jasper's relationship developing, but it wasn't quite there, you know? Maybe a couple more clandestine encounters (yes that includes more sex), and a more firm realization of her love for him would have done the deal.

The sex:

What we did get in terms of sex almost felt like an afterthought— make no mistake it was well written (thought I do think the kissing scenes conveyed more passion), but none of them (two of them?) were particularly noteworthy. There was a scene where parlor games were practically (unwittingly) foreplay, which I wholeheartedly approve of. I feel like people forget parlor games with kissing were A Thing back in the day, which is unfortunate, especially consider the potential of games called "Kiss the Candlestick".

Review (continued):

I think the problem was that there was way too much time devoted to just how *dastardly* Tru's husband was. She could easily have removed excess passages on how much of a drunk, lecher, glutton, terrible father, etc. he was in order to focus on our actual love interest, Jasper. Additionally, there were a lot of POVs outside Tru and Jasper's. I think Sophie wanted to introduce the full cast of characters, especially those who will be featured in upcoming books, but that came at the cost of somewhat neglecting her main couple.

Outside the romance, I did appreciate the focus on female friendship. It's similar to what I said about Sabrina Jeffries' upcoming book, except in this case, it's friendship between a bunch of disenchanted older women— which is fun. The sneak-peak into the next heroine's book definitely seems fun. Between Joanna Shupe's Fifth Avenue Rebel series, and Vivienne Lorret's Mating Habits of Scoundrels series, I think this is becoming something of a trend, and definitely one I can get behind.

Overall, I did expect more from Sophie in terms of romance and the sex, but I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for this series as a whole.

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

[foxstride]

Ok, let me think of a good question...

How do you see Splinterpaw in relation to other ThunderClan members? Does he have friends? Rivals? Any cat he'd consider taking as a mate if he was chosen to be the next carrier?

And more to the worldbuilding side, what happens if the cat chosen to be the next carrier is uncooperative?

jace <3 all are good questions from you!

How do you see Splinterpaw in relation to other ThunderClan members?

Wow. Yeah this is... not something I've thought about.

Ok so the cats he's closest in age to are Spottedpaw, Willowpaw, Redpaw, they're a season older. He joins ThunderClan before Spottedpaw is also an apprentice, so initially would just be denmates with them. They're not replacements for his sisters. He loves his sisters, and this trio is a reminder of what he can't get back. He can't share his nest with Lilacpaw and Lavenderpaw, and he can only see them twice a moon, and he'll never get to play with them in camp. When Spottedpaw becomes a med cat, there's definitely a lot of animosity between them from his side: she chose to do this and he still has to be forced into it?

Goosefeather he has no respect for, something worsened by how their other Clanmates treat him. In general, I don't have plans to explore him with Goosefeather beyond that, instead giving Featherwhisker more of a highlight because my boi <3 Featherwhisker is a good mentor, and Splinterpaw will appreciate that... which only makes Spottedpaw's inclusion worse because she's now taking up time from the only cat he has to get along with?

So rivals: Spottedpaw, Willowpaw, Redpaw.

Tigerclaw will treat him badly, because of course he will, but I imagine Whitestorm, Frostfur, and Brindleface are probably welcoming. They're the youngest warriors, but they're also in the position he wants to be. That immediately stops him from befriending them.

Thistleclaw is a natural rival, because he's not a ThunderClan cat, and Lionheart is likely one of the only cats Splinterpaw really respects. Maybe he even thinks that Lionheart might train him how to fight! Maybe he does? But it's never enough.

I think a crush on Mousepaw is likely, though I like the idea of him generally accepting that a bit more. It's not like he's had the best father figure as an example. Would he really want to have kits he'd also have to split up?

And more to the worldbuilding side, what happens if the cat chosen to be the next carrier is uncooperative?

cw: non-con

I think it would definitely lean into the side of rape. After all, they're chosen by StarClan, and it isn't like none of the other medicine cats know who's been chosen. All the medicine cats know which has been chosen. Is it StarClan's intent that they'd force this? If we go based on Leafpool's Wish and more, I think they definitely would.

Generally I've got a pattern of the next carrier being a she-cat, other than Redthistle being a trans she-cat, but I think that would be something to explore with a cat like Leafpool. Along the same lines or potentially more violent? I'm not sure.

I already know I'm not choosing Splinterpaw to be the next carrier, but I think if I did then he'd take it into his own paws and he wouldn't follow his mother in asking any cat to carry for him. He'd manipulate them instead. Or rape them.

Which leads to thinking about how Splinterpaw thinks of the situation. He hates the situation that he and his littermates are in, but would he tear down the whole system? Would he rebel? I don't think he'd blame StarClan, but more the cats perpetuating it. The ones who actually separated them. He saw Raggedpelt attempt to keep him in ShadowClan, maybe he'd think that the others could have done something.

StarClan are only ghosts, what could they really do?

[semper-legens]

83. Star of the Show, by Jacqueline Wilson

Owned?: No, library Page count: 333 My summary: Tess just wants to dance. But with a dead Ma, an absent Pa, and four other siblings in the house, life's not exactly easy. Her older brother and sister try and bring money in, while Tess is saddled with the younger two to try and keep them happy and out of the way. Life in the slums of Victorian London is never easy - but with Tess on her way to stardom, maybe the family will pull through after all. My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

I love Jacqueline Wilson. I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Her stories are something that isn't seen that often in children's literature - complicated tales of kids who come from non-conventional families, working class kids, kids dealing with big issues that maybe they don't have the ability to properly understand or cope with yet, and other things. For young girls especially, these books are something special. This one isn't one of her contemporary books - it's in the Victorian era, like Hettie Feather or the Lottie Project. Fortunately for me, that's an era I like. And I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed this book.

Tess is our protagonist - the middle child of five, she winds up looking after her younger siblings while her older siblings are trying to find work. She's a bubbly, optimistic girl who doesn't see her dreams and ambitions as being too lofty - she will become a dancer, and she does! There's a class-based humility to her (she doesn't want to be seen as taking liberties with her new, rich friend Cedric) but she's still stubborn and sticks up for what she thinks is right and what she believes in. She wants her family to be together no matter what; her loyalties are to her loved ones. She's a very sweet girl, but she's not perfect! She can be selfish and a little in her own head, not quite grasping the reality of every situation, but she tries to help in her own ways and that's commendable. She's a delight to read about!

This is a very wholesome story. Tess and her family are delightful - while there are squabbles between the older siblings, and young Tommy is kind of a pain, it's in a way that's true to life - if you have a sibling, chances are that your sibling is just like one of these characters. And yeah, everyone Tess meets tends to sympathise with her and her siblings and give them stuff and help them (like Cedric's family servants or the manager at the theatre) but it feels earned enough because Tess and the others are working to earn them. Tess' older brother is given more money by his boss, but that's because he works harder and has ideas that help sell more stuff. That kind of thing. The world is more safe than it probably would have been in real life, but then again, it's not like a family of kids whose parents died or abandoned them was unheard of in Victorian London. That Tess and her siblings are actually doing alright is a product of luck and hard work. Nonetheless, things are sort of dropped into their laps - but this is a book for children. I hardly expect sobering political commentary.

But still, there's darker edges to the story and to this world. It's something I've noticed with Wilson's writing before - she keeps it appropriate for the age range of the reader, but reading it as an adult there's definitely implications and conclusions to be drawn. After abandoning the family, Tess' Pa takes up with a 'fast' woman in gaudy clothes - an eight year old might not necessarily pick up on the inference that she's a sex worker, but I did. Similarly, the book doesn't shy away from the darker elements of working-class Victorian life. While Tess' older siblings get work that isn't manually exhausting or largely exploitative, there is still the fact that baby Ada could die if they don't bring any money in. Cedric's sibling does die in childbirth, and his mother is naturally very affected by it. Cedric's family essentially attempt to buy Ada from Tess and her siblings, and seem confused as to why they want to stay together. Even Tess' dancing career is realistic - sure, she gets an understudy part as an untrained kid off the streets, but she has to work hard to learn all the choreography and script and songs, harder than the more trained girls, and while she goes on as the lead kid on opening night of the pantomime, she is still the understudy and not a principal. She has raw talent, but the theatre are not going to cast her as a lead, and that makes sense! It's fulfilling that little-kid fantasy while still remaining grounded, and I think that's a wonderful balance to strike.

Next, a history of death in the Medieval period.

[anika-ann]

Love on the Brain - part 3

Ch3: Turning Green

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7200

Summary: The cooperation between the Avengers and the BAU bears first pieces of fruit, your team noticing things you have missed. However, tensions start to rise.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing. I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics​;

“Jealousy is the dragon in paradise; the hell of heaven; and the most bitter of the emotions because it is associated with the sweetest.” AR Orage

-

You shifted in your seat, looking around the room as to subtly avoid Emily’s eyes; a move she could no doubt see through, but didn’t call you out on.

When you reached one of the small lounge rooms Tony liked to use for less formal meetings – even if according to him, all work meetings should be either informal or taking place in a lab – Emily snatched you for a chat.

The reason for which had your eyes wander did not only lie in the fact you had never been here and were actually curious to take the room in – the more intimate setting, couches and armchairs in earthy tones and a fake fireplace –, but mostly stemmed from knowing this chat would have not so hidden ulterior motives.

You were sure Emily would love to catch up as much as you would; but things weren’t so simple. Even entering the room, both of you were well-aware that it would be Emily asking questions and you answering rather than vice versa and her questions would have a single goal: to get insight. And whether you liked it or not, you needed to give her exactly that so she could help you. So she and the rest of the team could help Steve.

This awareness didn’t help the awkward air; nor did the fact you still weren’t sure where you stood with each other after you had left without much warning or keeping in touch.

“Swell place Tony Stark has here,” Emily commented noncommittally, earning an equally disinterested hum from you; you still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Never been here before either?”

Your shook your head. “Nope… I don’t spend much time here outside of work. The Initiative offers apartments not too far from here with reduced rent.”  

“I see. Keeping work life and personal life somewhat separate. Smart.”

You scoffed humourlessly, eyes fixed on the forest green rug under the small conference table as your eyebrows jumped a bit.

“Yep. Works out well until it doesn’t.”

And wasn’t that right.

Except that the only thing to separate the two was the place you lived. Other than that, your friends, your neighbours, they all had ties to the Initiative; and you best friend was one of the Avengers, the Captain himself.

It wasn’t healthy; but neither was turning a blind eye to the feeling you for Steve in order to preserve your friendship.

“Jones… would you actually look at me so we could talk?” Emily asked gently, a hint of amusement in her voice.

It was so characteristic of her; kindness, no-nonsense attitude and humour. You missed her; she was like an older sister you never had, one that was willing to give everything and asked nothing but acceptance and respect in return.

You gulped and let your eyes stray to her face; her eyes shone as warmly and sincerely as her words, causing your mimic muscles to come to life and give her the tiniest of smiles.

“Sorry. Uhm. I don’t live here and I don’t hang out here that often. I’m not saying the Avengers aren’t my crowd at all, but… they’re mostly Steve’s friends and he only pushes a little to get me friendly with the band,” you explained further, earning a nod of understanding.

“You looked just fine with Romanoff, Stark and Barton if you ask me, but I hear you. Steve on the other hand… you seem really close.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, your heart stumbling in your chest at her observation. Were you so obvious in wanting to be even closer too?

“I don’t want to embarrass you, just… I can tell. You told him about us, but not to the others,” she observed quietly, non-judgemental and yet, you felt a pang of guilt.

Your time at the BAU wasn’t insignificant; in fact, it was a better part of your professional life so far and your personal as well, because one did not work at the BAU for years without forming deep attachments.

It was a shame not to talk about it your new friends… but you didn’t only carry attachments and happy memories with you. Every single one member of the team had demons following them around; it was one of the reasons why the bonds you had created ran so deep. It often hurt to reminiscent. Remembering could be terrifying and would push straight into an unpleasant place which was difficult to claw your way out of.

An undeniable truth was however, that when on the team, sooner or later, one learned to read the other; and Emily read you like a book. Naturally, it hadn’t escaped her notice that Steve knew that you had once been working with a genius mind of 187 points.

There was no denying it you told Steve bits and pieces, just like there was no denying that you had still shared shamefully little and even less with other people in your life.

“I didn’t say much… I—I don’t keep it a secret, I don’t keep you all a secret,” you whispered, attempting to explain. You weren’t even sure what. “And when I left, I didn’t mean to-- I just…”

“Hey,” she interjected, once again more understanding than you deserved. “It was a tough case. You left for a good reason and you seem happy. That’s what matters.”

You swallowed heavily, feeling tears prickle in your eyes. When you let yourself close them, all you saw was red; red and dark empty brown, stickly like the blood on your hands.

When you snapped your eyes open again, it was to Emily’s compassionate tight-lipped smile.

“You all stayed,” you argued weakly, blinking away your tears before they could spill over, before the nails threatening to gnaw at your gut could dig their way in.

Emily’s easy – but not dismissive – shrug was like an invisible force who pushed the figurative aggressive hands away.

“Each of deals with these things in our own way. There’s no shame in walking away when it is what you need.”

“Can’t help feeling differently about it,” you turned one corner of your lips up humourlessly, taking a calming breath as you confessed your sins. “It stings sometimes. And I… I should have stayed in contact more, so we didn’t have to meet in these circumstances.”

“You did what you needed to do at the time and that’s all any of us can do. We miss you, but… we understood,” she shook her head, a smile with a teasing edge lifting the corner of her lips. “And you evaded my question, miss. Tell me about you, about him. About you two.”

Right.

You had genuinely forgot that was what she was asking about before. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, Steve and I are close,” you admitted, still feeling like your face was on fire upon saying it out loud.

What else was there to say about you two without sound like a love-sick fool?

Facts, Jones, remember to share facts, not your feelings.

“He, uhm, he saved my life, several times.”

See? Fact.

“I like him already,” Emily hummed, her little note putting you more at ease.

“He’s good at what he does. He’s a good leader, looking out for his team. But he’s not the kind of person who would expect something in return, you know? Just… if you treat him like a normal person, with normal human decency and respect, he’ll be grateful for that. I love that about him. He was so genuinely shocked when I brought him cookies after the first time he jumped in to save my life-”

“Ooh, you baked for him?” Emily interrupted again, grinning.

You chuckled, fighting the urge to hide your face in your palms when you remembered Steve’s flabbergasted face – or Captain Rogers’ at the time – when you offered him the Tupperware box, heart nervously hammering against your ribcage.

“It was kinda embarrassing really.”

“Nah. A way to man’s heart is through his stomach more often than not. I’m sure he appreciated it.”

“I guess he did, in the end,” you shrugged, lips spreading in a genuine smile. “We grew closer and closer after that, it helped that we’re neighbours.”

Your smile fell quickly when you realized that was the only reason why you knew about the photos; had he found it, he would have probably dismissed it.

You felt an icy shiver run up your spine at the mere thought.

You were aware you weren’t a very objective observer, but neither was he. You because of your former job; him because of his minimal sense of self-preservation.

“I… I know that me being so close clouds my judgement. My bad experience from the BAU stalking cases too, but… there are objectively things that are disturbing.”

“Not what I was asking, but tell me. Things like what? Besides the bullets, of course.”

What wasn’t disturbing about this whole thing?

“Like how didn’t he notice?” you questioned, no matter you sounded like a broken record even to yourself. “Yes, he’s famous, I get that. He learned to ignore everyone staring and sneakily taking photos, I guess, but… it’s just bugging me. No one should be able to sneak up on us. Especially not on him.”

Not on Mr.Supersoldier himself.

You internally sighed.

“Hm… It’s probably like you said. He’s used to it, tuning it out. Is he comfortable dealing with his fans?” Emily pried further, clearly not minding the change in topic too much.

Neither did you. Truth was, it was fun to observe Steve with fans; sometimes you were annoyed if they got too much, but he could get adorably flustered at the attention. And he was golden with kids; not that it made your belly flutter to see him squat to a five-year-old’s height, shake their hand and call them a special agent to have them show off their toothless smile.

Not at all.

“Depends. He always tries to be nice and he is, but I know him enough to see when he really puts a lot of effort to keep appearances and would rather to tell them to go to hell. He hates when they get handsy, flirt way too much,” you said, almost adding ‘and so do I’. “He loves dealing with kids though… his eyes light up when he sees they look up to him.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Emily hummed knowingly, clearly thinking about your reaction rather than Steve’s. Rude. “What is he like? In private, I mean. We know things about Captain America, but who is Steve Rogers?”

“He’s a little shit who’s too reckless and stubborn for his own good.”

The exasperated words were out of your mouth before you could think twice of them, eyes growing wide once you realized what you said – even if you spoke no lies. He was a little too reckless; and yet, here you were, too stupid to tell your heart off.

Emily burst into a surprised laughter, irises sparkling with mischief as you rushed to elaborate on your blunt response.

“Sorry! I just feel like he doesn’t take this seriously enough. And he is exactly that. He’s a good strategist, but sometimes he just throws away the plan. He can be reckless, though he’s not stupid by any means. He’s brilliant, of course. He knows how to roll with the punches, sometimes literal ones.”

Emily chuckled again, but nodded, signalling she was listening and you could go on.

“He’s really feeling the leader responsibility. Always stands by the ‘leave no man behind’, case on point – me,” you pointed at yourself unsubtly, sighing. “Sometimes that gets in the way of thinking about his own safety. He appears confident even when he’s doubting his abilities as a leader, feels the pressure – because he knows he has to be. There aren’t many people he would let see it affect him, who get to see him vulnerable, human… I’m not even sure how many times he’d let the other Avengers see that and they’re like his family… Uhm. Anyway, he’s surprisingly fun when he lets loose, when he doesn’t have to live up to the great golden boy persona.”

Echo of amusement was still present on Emily’s face as you trailed off, but her smile was nothing but warm at your ramble.

“He sounds pretty great. I’m glad you have each other.”

Yeah, so were you. Even if the implication of have could considerably differ depending on context; and of whom she would ask.

“How would he make enemies, besides the obvious?” Emily asked carefully, falling into a more serious mode again.

The heaviness didn’t escape you; or perhaps you couldn’t escape the heaviness behind the word ‘enemy’. Because despite what Tony Stark initially thought, the stalker certainly was an enemy force and they were a serious threat to man who didn’t deserve anything but love.

“He’s a likeable person. Maybe a bit too much.”

You would know; whether it be you or way too many others to your liking.

“He’s… he attracts people, romantically or not. And I think that rejection, no matter how gentle, or ignorance, could lead to antagonism. That’s one thing.”

“And other than that?”

“He’s really observant, so he can call out people directly on their shit and usually isn’t afraid to do so, so someone might be offended, take it too personally,” you mused. “The only times he hesitates is when his behaviour, no matter how right he feels it would be, affects others negatively. He isn’t afraid to challenge authorities, but if others should suffer from it, he’ll keep his mouth shut for as long as needed. Not a second longer. If he sees a bully, he just can’t help himself. He won’t get violent unless necessary, but he puts them in place. That was my second guess for an unsub – someone who feels humiliated by his intervention or someone who’s jealous of him.”

Emily nodded, mentally cataloguing all the information, no doubt forming conclusions in her mind, thinking of all the alternatives offered.

“Alright. Anyone with special interest in him that you can think of?”

Besides me?

And half of the Avengers Initiative and half of New York City? … That probably wouldn’t narrow it down.

You thought further – and instantly came out with a name, one that made your stomach and your jaw a little tight. Because yes, she certainly did take special interest In Steve.

Then again, it was only natural; with her more than with others.

“Sharon— Agent 13, I mean,” you quickly corrected yourself. “But she’s a Carter. Peggy Carter’s niece. Steve and Peggy were--- well, back in the forties, they were sweethearts. She’s well into her nineties now, but they go visit her together sometimes.”

“I see. What she’s like?”

“Pretty. Smart. Kinda badass,” you said simply, keeping your description court.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Sharon Carter – she was a wonderful agent, a very capable one, and she was friendly and respectful enough. Virtually, there was nothing wrong with her.

You just weren’t a fan of her affiliation with Steve; she had him practically wrapped around her finger at times, because she was a link to his past he naturally clung to. It was unfair, really – she had him and she didn’t even have to try.

God, you were a horrible selfish person when it came to him.

“She’s good at what she does, but she only revealed her name recently, operating under another one to avoid favouritism,” you added, which had Emily nodding and grimacing.

“Well, I can relate to that,” she remarked, a subtle jab on her mother – an important ambassador persona – whose name Hotch initially thought was Emily’s ticket to the BAU. “Anyone else?”

“Not that I can think of… problem is, women are fawning over him all the time. And I mean all the time. I don’t even think I’d be able to remember all their faces during a cognitive interview.”

“That many, huh,” Emily noted, raising a knowing eyebrow.

You smirked humourlessly in return.

“’fraid so…”

“Okay, anyone in particular you can remember who was acting strange in his surroundings? Fan, recruits, …anyone? Someone who could be angry with him or hold a grudge?”

You sighed. You couldn’t think of anyone straight away and Steve had been less than helpful when you asked him the same. You hoped Spence would have better luck with him.

“He mentioned Brandon Martins, one of the recruits, but he’s already on the board. I can’t think of anyone else right now,” you admitted, ashamed.

Perhaps you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings – to Steve’s surroundings – but he made it difficult to look at anything and anyone else when he was in the room. You had a problem, alright, you were aware. But your tunnel vision never had been so relevant.  

And you had never been so useless.

“Take your time,” Emily prompted your gently, observant of how your nerves and frustration started worming their way through to your judgement again, your mind and heart growing frantic by the minute.

Time was what you didn’t have with cases like this.

“Right-“

“Hey, I know we’re on clock here, but he’s safe for now. He’s got the so-called Earth’s mightiest heroes having his back. And you.”

You tried to smile, grateful for her attempt, but failed spectacularly.

“And now you three, I know. I just… I just really hope that’s enough,” you whispered sullenly.

Emily smiled ruefully, but reached her hand over the table, softly squeezing yours. She didn’t speak, but you heard her words anyway – years of working together did that sometimes and the bond, no matter how rusty, was still present.

We all do. And we’ll do everything we can so it is.

Steve Rogers might not be a profiler nor an expert on human mind, but he knew all about complicated relationships; his relationship to you being an exemplary case.

Despite what many people considered him to be, ignoring obvious facts as him having been to war and fighting battles every day, he was also a man who knew of the world not being black and white. He knew all about shades of grey and blurred lines. He knew all about ambiguity.

But lord help him, the way he felt ever since he saw Dr. Spencer Reid enter the room, ever since he had witnessed the affection with which the genius circled his arms around you--- he was experiencing ambiguity on a whole new level.

Dr. Spencer Reid was without doubt a highly intelligent and a surprisingly empathetic man with hunger for knowledge and an insight as deep as humanly possible. He making links among clues that frankly had Steve’s head spinning while the doctor practically danced around the board with the marker in his hand, taking detailed notes and making the picture you had begun to paint somewhat organized and clearer.

Steve would be a fool to pretend Reid wasn’t an undeniable asset who could play a key role in solving the case, not to recognize his importance; he wasn’t an idiot.

He just hated with passion the importance the man seemed to have to you.

He despised the willingness and eagerness you had ran into the man’s arms; his stomach felt tight with panic and envy upon noting the warmth radiating off your very being when you hugged the lean genius.

He hated the fond smile on the man’s lips when he saw you too, the soft look in his eyes.

And he certainly wasn’t a fan of how the intruder and attention thief put Steve’s life under a microscope in the name of science and progress of the case.

Steve was already exhausted; a tension he couldn’t seem to get rid of build inside him fast, threatening to burst unless he found an outlet.

Perhaps it was worse now, because for once, Tony Stark wasn’t the source of this irritation.

The billionaire had removed himself from the room and helped Agent Hotchner by providing him information about the first women who were willing to come to the Tower for questioning. Meanwhile, Jarvis’ algorithm kept sorting through all the agents currently or previously employed by the Avengers Initiative.

Steve wished he could have an algorithm running on him too instead of being scrutinized by the kid who might have been around his age, but certainly didn’t have the looks of it.

“Do you get lunches together?” Reid’s voice snapped him from his dark thoughts.

“Huh?”

The other man just smiled briefly, voice unbearably curious and sickeningly nice as he repeated his question.

“You and Jones or you and Agent Romanoff. Do you go out to get lunch or coffee sometimes?”

Something spiteful in Steve smiled in victory even at that invasive question, something he only tried to supress half-heartedly.  

Yes, we do. You don’t get to have lunches with Sparkles these days, do you? I do.

“Yeah sometimes. I don’t see how that’s important.”

But it was important.

Because Steve was getting lunches with you, he was friends with you. He was the one you snuggled to when you needed a hug after a hard mission, he was the one who got to protect you when an enemy made the mistake of wanting to jump you from behind. He earned the cutest and slightly ashamed thank you.

Steve had all that; Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t.

“How often? Did you get lunch or dinner or anything somewhere within the timeline we built?” Reid pried further, eyeing the board as if the answer was written there.

Steve fought the urge to huff; twenty thousand words a minute. As if—

Be civil, Steven. For Sparkles.

Plus, the sooner you deal with this, the sooner the BAU team will be gone.

For a moment, Steve felt terrible for wanting to cut your reunion with your friends short; but short visits were the best, right? And the team was mainly here to do their job, nothing more…. But damn, if you were happy to see them, you’d deserve Steve was happy for you too.

He did need to get a grip and be professional.

He looked at the board as well, pushing himself to remember all the times you had lunch with him in the timeframe they chose. He wasn’t surprised at the realization that there definitely were some – but it stunned him that timeline-wise, they were too close to his liking.

“We did, actually. The first woman was the same day.”

“Really?”

Emily Prentiss chose that moment to enter with you and Natasha on her heels. Steve’s head automatically turned to you, eyes seeking yours.

The moment his gaze found yours, he felt a strange calm wash over him; because despite the slight redness of your eyes, you appeared lighter than an hour ago, eyes bright and searching as you took in all the notes Reid had made. You seemed to feel better, which was a wonderful news on its own.

But more so, you were there, suddenly tangible again; and the jealousy turned bitter on Steve’s tongue, a reminder that his feelings and hostility were childish. You were no toy and Reid was no kid he was fighting with on a playground to get it. And despite what he wanted, you were yet to actually be his – if ever.

He truly did need to get a grip.

“How it’s going, guys?” you asked no one in particular.

“We completed the timeline...” Reid announced swiftly. “And I was just wondering about you. You and Agent Romanoff.”

“Natasha’s fine,” the redhead noted, pleasantly noncommittal in her offer.

“Natasha then… well, the thing is, neither of you are in a photo.”

Oh.

Steve’s gaze instinctively skimmed over the photos, but he recalled with clarity that Reid was in fact right. And now he felt like an idiot for not pointing it you himself; or realizing it.

It was obvious now that Reid brought attention to it; but even before, Steve rationally knew neither you nor Tasha were there.

Yet, no one had said so. Steve surely hadn’t and that was frustrating, truly; but judging by your small sound of surprise, you hadn’t noticed it either. It was a small comfort, but one nevertheless.

“Oh.”

Steve could tell you were a little mad at yourself for not paying attention to that, but it had nothing to the sudden surge of panic in his gut.

These women in the photos were in danger; these were women he had met with. You could be one of them. You could be in danger. The mere idea hit him like a truck, stunning him breathless.

Hopefully, the absence of your photo meant you were safe; but your safety as another woman Steve had been interacting with quite a lot was something Steve had failed to consider.

Because he had been acting like a selfish prick, secretly pleased by your worry for him; but luckily, it seemed the universe spared you, giving him a chance to redeem himself when sending Dr. Spencer Reid.

God, he hated that, but it was painfully obvious they needed the man.

“I hate to say this, but it is strange. This woman…” Steve said as he squinted at Reid’s chicken-scratch-like writing under the firs photo, “Janet. She approached me when we had lunch and you disappeared to the bathroom.”

“Ah, that’s right! I remember her now…”

“Then why isn’t there a picture of you?” Spence pointed out the obvious, effectively making Steve forget the strange expression of distaste which appeared on your face upon recognizing the other woman. “If it happened on the same day, in the same bistro, at the same hour? You should be there, but you’re not. Why?”

Steve’s stomach dropped to his feet as it occurred to him that not being in the photos might actually be worse than being in them. How was it that you were such a constant presence in his life these days and the stalker failed to capture it? Did they intend it? Were you in graver danger than the other women? Than him?

Why did you look intrigued by the questions while he felt his insides twist in dread?

Somehow, he could clearly hear words you’d say in answer, sarcastic and teasing: Sucks when it’s the other way around, doesn’t it? Karma is a bitch, GG.

“Right now, I’m leaning towards the idea of celebrity stalking in the terms of an obsession, probably a romantic one. But I’m not sure we can rule out other possibilities,” Reid continued, Steve’s eyes automatically snapping from you to him.

“Alright… well it begs to question what the not worthy means,” Prentiss pondered. “Does the phrase have any special meaning to you?”

Steve’s mind went straight to a private afterparty, Asgardian liquor and each team member trying to lift Mjolnir, Thor’s magical hammer, which was apparently only to be lifted by those who were worthy of wielding it.  

“It doesn’t… besides Thor’s hammer, but that’s something only the six Avengers know of and I like to think it’s neither of us,” Natasha said, clearly thinking about the same night. “And neither I suppose that Odin came to Earth to snap photos of Steve with a bunch of women.”

“…right. So do we think it’s Captain Rogers or the women who’s not worthy of… whatever the unsub means?”

“Steve’s fine,” Steve noted absentmindedly, not minding one bit if Prentiss – or Emily – called him by his first name.

He caught your smile as he offered so, all of sudden not caring one bit if Reid called him the same despite the fact they had been using their last names until now.

He often found he minded very few things if it earned him a sweet curl of your lips.

“Thank you, Steve. I think we’re all good calling each other by name rather than titles.”

“Agreed,” you stated, clearly content – no, beaming – that your former and current colleagues got along well. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell you otherwise. “Well, I’m with Reid. I’m definitely leaning towards the women not being worthy of… well. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Something with Steve.”

“His attention? His time? His affection?” Emily guessed.

“Hm… someone not seeing any partner adequate for him could think so, true, definitely if they are stalker of the fourth kind,” Reid muttered, frowning as he turned to face you. “But that circles us back to you and Natasha.”

“If we’re not there, it could mean the unsub thinks we’re worthy for some reason… whatever their reason is,” you finished Reid’s thought, clearly understanding what the doctor was talking about, unlike Steve who felt utterly lost. The fourth kind of a stalker?

Bile burned on his tongue; the way you and Reid worked together as a well-oiled machine was just as useful as irritating.

Then again, the heavy weight in Steve’s stomach eased at your suggestion; that would mean that you were, in fact, not in danger. And whatever you were supposed to be worthy of, he would agree with the stalker.

Because you were worthy of everything.

“Could it be because we are agents? We’re… let’s say more equal?” Natasha suggested, voice uncharacteristically lacking self-confidence.

But there was no need; your eyes snapped at her, intrigued.

“Oh. You mean in the sense of the mentality people sometimes have with celebrities? People want an actor to date an actress…”

“… so given that Captain America is a superhero, maybe he needs a superhero girlfriend,” Natasha nodded, a small proud smile on her lips as you beckoned to Reid to write it down.

“Okay… that’s good. I like that theory, but it only fits Natasha. I’m not a superhero.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve argued swiftly, a knee-jerk reaction to you even suggesting you were less than an Avenger, never mind the ‘original six’ Fury had hand-picked.

You lowered your gaze self-consciously, breathing in and opening your mouth to protest – but you never got the chance.

“You’re certainly close enough,” Reid agreed absently as his gaze scanned the board. “Neither of the women we identified were law enforcement.”

“That’s a good theory. I mean, what are the alternatives?” Emily shrugged.

“It could be anything,” Spencer replied matter-of-factly. “We’re still trying to find a common denominator within these women and coming out empty. They are different race, age and social status, various jobs from a cleaning lady to a manager or a tattoo artist. For now, the only thing they have in common is that they interacted with Steve… and apparently, they might be less worthy than you because they’re not law enforcement. But that’s it.”

“It’s gonna be a long day and night,” you sighed, frowning as the board.

No one disproved you; but no one voiced their agreement either. It was a simple fact.

Still, Steve didn’t like the gloom returning to your face; running on instinct, his feet shuffled your direction to stand beside you, briefly squeezing you hand hanging limply by your side. While cold to touch, it was all warm in returning the gesture as you gave him a half-hearted smile.

Steve was well-aware of two pairs of eyes watching closely, but he cared little for them; the only reason he took a step back again was because Natasha spoke.

“How do you guys see the odds? How much would the unsub focus on the women – if all we have is one photo of each – and how much would they focus on Steve?”

Reid grimaced.

“It’s hard to tell before we figure out as precise motivation of the unsub as possible. But the fact is that something made them act – they sent the pictures. We’re still in the dark about too many variables. If we look at it from an entirely different perspective, it could be that Capt- Steve is not worthy of his title if he cannot protect them-“

A sudden rush of anger flared up in Steve – more at Reid questioning his abilities than at the suggestion alone, because yes, no one was perfect and it stung every time they failed – but you put the fire out before it could find its outlet.

“He’s not actually saying you’re not worthy of the title or that you’re not capable or that you’re not doing everything you can. He’s not questioning whether you’re doing good enough job-“ you rushed to explain, hand brushing to Steve’s hip as you felt him straighten his posture defensively behind you, causing Reid’s expression to change into a mask of confusion, then regret and then brief panic.

“Oh no, I’m not! I’m merely trying to explore all possibilities, all directions the unsub’s mind could be going. I did say I think that the romantic obsession is the most likely option, I just wanted to point out we need to make sure to get a good understanding and exploit all options. To interview all of the women and anyone you marked as a potential unsub through the criteria we talked about-” Reid babbled, momentarily sounding as if he was trying to talk twenty thousand words a minute.

Steve forced himself to bite the bullet and ease his stance as you shot him a tight apologetic smile over your shoulder – apologetic on a behalf of a friend. It was both sweet and bothersome, really. You were simply too good and trying so hard for all of them to get along it was no wonder you looked exhausted.

“Wow. I should have brought a knife to cut the tension in here,” Tony snarked as he and Hotch re-entered the room, earning himself two eyerolls from you and Natasha, while Steve just sighed.

Emily cleared her throat, seemingly amused by the whole situation; it was clear as day that quirkiness of certain team members – be it the Avengers or the BAU – and small conflicts or misunderstandings caused by it were something the teams had in common.

“We also need to find significance of the first woman. Or of an event that occurred before you met her to trigger taking and sending the photos. Is there anything important before this day that you can remember?”

Steve didn’t think too hard, to be frank. There wasn’t much happening that could be relevant to the case, no matter that the previous events weighted his mind.

“Nothing out of ordinary… we were on a three-day mission,” he said. “As in me, Clint, Natasha and Bruce as medical.”

“That one was dark,” you muttered as if you could touch the shadows in Steve’s mind; and in a way, you had.

You had touched them and tried your best to chase them away, working to bring a smile to his face again, gently and without pressure; but you fought mercilessly the long bony clutches of guilt and nihilism which always attempted to pull him under after a mission like that.

It was one of the things he adored about you and was eternally grateful for. One of the things he loved and would kiss you for, even if all he said was a heartfelt thank you.

“How so?” Emily queried, turning to you.

It was Natasha who answered. “Human trafficking. Never easy.”

“Yeah… you took me out for movies to lift my spirits after,” Steve reminded you fondly, earning a grin – because you needed no reminder, apparently.

“That I did and it worked. That’s the power of Pixar to you—oh,” you stopped abruptly, head snapping to your former team members, baffling everyone in the room, Steve included. “Oh. It was one of the busybodies again. They snapped a pic of us sharing fries at McDonalds after that.”

Oh indeed. That. Steve didn’t care much for these; except maybe it made him preen whenever the journalist misjudged the situation at hand in his favour.

But given the nature of contact the unsub tried to initiate, he supposed it could be relevant.

“…is that a euphemism for something?” Emily questioned, effectively turning Steve’s face red in a second.

“What? No!”

You just snorted, the sound somewhat adorable and he clung to it, because while unsure how this particular euphemism would work, he could imagine what it could be a euphemism for.

“It’s just that chivalry isn’t dead. He’s perfectly willing to share his fries with me unlike some people,” you said, gracing Reid with a very telling look.

The doctor just smirked, an amused – and unfairly affectionate – spark in his eye as he lifted his hands, palms up.

“Hey, if you want fries, just order your own, Bean.”

And just like that, all pleasant images were gone from Steve’s mind, warmth replaced by a pang of sharp jealousy that dug deep.

Because Steve understood the nickname. Yes, you it could have been that the doctor chose this nickname because you were shorter than him; but it wasn’t. You were a person living on sugar of various kind and jelly beans were by far your favourite. The fact that this... stranger, Spence, not even Spencer or Reid, your former colleague, your friend, your—something, a person you profoundly cared for knew that detail about you irked Steve immensely.

This was for him to know.

Damned be getting a grip and being professional.

“Okay, so they snapped a photo and posted it?” Hotch pressed.

“Worse. They sold it to tabloids,” you sighed, eyeing Steve with a small mischievous smile as you continued, almost melting his greening heart. “It’s ridiculous really. As much as I appreciate Steve sharing his fries with me-“

“Still sounds like a euphemism,” Tony snickered, which gained him a sharp glare from Steve, because suddenly it wasn’t even remotely funny; because your smile now felt as if mocking Steve for something he could never have.

“-they made it into the ultimate romantic gesture,” you finished. “Yes, there was a bit of a rustle on social media, but it wasn’t anything we’re not used to.”

Reid hummed, thoughtful, writing a note on the board in front of the timeline they had built earlier. Your steps were quiet as you walked to his side – Steve’s fingers twitching with need to grasp at your hoodie and keep you exactly where you had stood with him – and took the marker from Reid, fingertips brushing, earning a soft smile as you supplied the date.

Steve was beginning to see red.

Damn the ‘Bean’. Who did the guy thought he was?

“Do you really think it’s important?” Steve questioned, a little bite to his tone. You casted him a sideway glance – a tiny wrinkle between your brows, because you noticed his ire.

Good. Or was it?

“It’s probably not as significant to you, but combined with whatever was happening in the unsub’s life, it could have a meaning,” Agent Hotchner supplied helpfully. “How often do you leave for mission this long or longer?”

“It’s not uncommon. Two, three times a month. Some are for a week, rarely longer, but most of them are done within a day or two.”

“Hm…”

“You think it could be that the unsub was, uhm… missing him?” you suggested, searching gaze drifting to Steve from Hotch as you were trying to decipher Steve’s suddenly sharper voice.

Okay, not good. Being in your disgrace was the last thing he wanted or needed right now.

“That’s what I’m thinking, yes. And the first thing they saw was him with a woman, again.”

“So they got a little green,” Natasha hummed, gracing Steve with a sideway glance, eyebrow inconspicuously raised.

Steve stared stubbornly ahead, avoiding her jab. Damn her observation skills.

“That would be my thought, yes.”

“Huh, I don’t even… I would have never thought of that on my own,” you whispered, causing Steve’s heart to stumble in his chest – it startled him to think you already saw through his antics. But your eyes were firmly set on the board until they skimmed over the BAU agents. “I’m really glad you guys are here to help.”

“We’re glad to help,” Reid assured you oh so helpfully, winning another of your smiles; and a look that lingered a bit too long and was a lot warmer than Steve would like. “We miss you in the team.”

Yeah, Steve could fucking bet the quirky doc with a boyband haircut missed you. Good grief-

“Stark, where are you with aligning the timeline with the street cameras?” Steve bit out, flashing the billionaire a glare, minutely startling him.

“Getting closer, Cap. I might be onto something.”

“Well, work faster-”

“Me and J are trying, okay?” Tony protested, pouting, only feeding Steve’s irritation because Christ, he knew that, and it still did nothing to ease the feeling of wanting to punch something, to squeeze something so hard it would break. “Frankly I still have no damn clue how the unsub got their hands on the bullets and it pisses me off.”

Welcome to the fucking club.

“How high of a clearance would they have to obtain to access this particular warehouse?” Reid asked, and for a brief moment Steve actually had to close his eyes at the sound of his voice, nostrils flaring.

Peripherally, he saw you move away from the board; but he kept eyes on the billionaire because if he looked at you, he would--- he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Maybe pressed you against the desk, grabbed your lower back for support so he could bend you over as he kissed the living daylights out of you right in front of everyone, so they could see that not one person in this room besides him had the smallest claim on you-

“The highest, or second highest to even enter. I’m looking into this and it makes no damn sense, because neither of the people whose IDs I’ve seen stayed in the warehouse for longer than a few minutes. They had to know what they were looking for.”

“And that it exists in the first place,” Reid added, making Tony grimace.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve talked to a lot of people about this… project,” Steve uttered.

“No, I really wasn’t. Your bae here might have called me an idiot, but I’m not completely daft.”

Steve wasn’t familiar with all of todays slang, but he knew you were not in fact, his bae. It only pissed him off further.

“I know you’re not,” Steve assured the man despite not being so certain anymore, feigning calm. Meanwhile you shamelessly murmured: “Jury’s out.”

Alright, that did have the corners of his lips twitch up.

As did the fact you seemed to materialize close by his side out of clear air, enveloping his senses; your perfume, your voice, your light touch on the back of his hand, your reassuring shy smile that tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey. We’ll figure this out. Why don’t we let them work for a bit? We could spar a little? I think we could both use working out some nervous energy,” you offered, way more kindly than Steve deserved, he realized.

“Ew, guys, come on!”

“What?” Steve snapped at Tony heatedly, because did he really have to-

“Virgin ears here!” the jerk complained, causing Steve to clench his hands into fists.

He was gonna punch him at last. No, strangle him, maybe the thing he needed to squeeze was Tony’s neck-

You and Natasha snorted simultaneously and you pulled at Steve’s wrist, not minding the tension in his tendons.

“Barely. And you know, some of us actually meant sparring, no ulterior motives. We’ll be back in about an hour, if that’s okay? And we could order a late lunch after?” you asked, wordlessly checking with others. “‘kay. Thank you, really.”

With that, Steve let you lead him away from the room – and wouldn’t he let you lead him anywhere, to hell itself with your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his heart at once?

The automatic doors slid shut behind you, shielding you from the voices from inside.  

“Right. Like these two ever didn’t have ulterior motives…” Tony muttered under his breath once you two were gone.

Natasha only hummed in agreement.

“Amen.

Now, what were you saying about being onto something?”

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, is it? 

This one was a long beast, but hopefully you enjoyed a little insight into Steve’s possessive mind 😊 I’m gonna leave you to ponder whether there was something more between Jones and Reid or whether Steve is just seeing things 🤭

Thank you for your support 💕

EDIT: I am, once again, kindly asking you to tag possible spoilers when you share your wonderful theories in reblogs or to just write a simple POSSIBLE SPOILER before theorizing in the comments 💗 Thank you 🥰

[itsallyscorner]

“Move the plans”

Pairing: Florence Pugh x actress!reader (platonic)

Summary: Florence tells you to cancel your plans when she ends up in New York.

Warnings: Nothing really bad. Mentions lactose intolerance? Idk if that’s sensitive to people. Probably some spelling errors.

A/n: Hello darlings! I’m back from my unannounced break. I decided to write a platonic Florence fic because she’s a sweetheart and I loved her as Yelena! Also for those who follow me, don’t worry, I will be working on a sequel to my Tom Holland “Sour” fic!! But for now, please enjoy this fic!😚💕

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Loml)

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You stood backstage in front of a mirror, looking at your appearance and making sure there were no wrinkles on the dress you wore. Your hairstylist was behind you, fluffing your hair and managing the stray baby hairs on your head. You were currently at NBC Studios in New York City, about to do an interview with the infamous, Jimmy Fallon. Tingles buzzed through your skin as you heard the cheers and music from the stage. Jimmy’s voice can be heard faintly backstage, only adding to your growing excitement.

The sound of heels clicking approached you, it took less than a second for you to feel the warm presence of Florence behind you. The both of you were starring in the upcoming Black Widow movie alongside Scarlett Johansson; after months of working together and spending days hanging out, you and Florence had become very close friends. She was, without a doubt, your favorite person in the world. Since the moment you met her, she had always been the most sweetest and caring person you’ve ever met—and you were proud to say you had her in your corner.

You met Flo’s eyes in the mirror and bright smiles were instantly on your faces. Turning around, you open your arms wide, and wrap them around her. Bear hugs were a must in your friendship with Flo, you both just loved receiving hugs from each other.

“Ahhh! I told you that dress would be perfect for tonight, you look stunning!” She squealed, tightening her arms around you. A day before Jimmy Fallon, you and Flo had been at your place with your stylist, picking out which dress you should wear for the interview. The dress was casual, but the color was so ever vibrant that it made the dress pop.

You pulled out the hug and looked at what she was wearing. Her gorgeous blonde hair was curled into loose locks and her dress was just as vibrant as yours. The pink of her dress and the orange (yellowish?) of yours complimented each other. Which coincidentally enough, was a parallel of your lovely friendship with Florence.

“Me? Flo, you look gorgeous! I’m so obsessed with this look!” You help her twirl, hyping her up as she showed off her outfit. After sneaking in a little mirror selfie and posting it onto Instagram, the two of you were given a five minute warning from one of the crew members. You and Flo were moved to stand behind the curtain, waiting for your cues to walk onto the stage.

While the two of you were getting mic’d up, Florence leaned closer to you.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” She mumbled, her stare remaining on the curtain before her. Your brow raises in curiosity as your head slightly turns to look at her.

“Of course, hun. What’s up?” You ask, your attention on her. She sighs and leans even closer so only you can hear her.

“I feel like I’m about to shit my pants.” She admits, swallowing nervously. Your mouth gapes, “Did you have iced coffee too?”

Flo’s face scrunches up in confusion, “N-no! That was me telling you I was nervous! Did you have iced coffee?” She fully turns to look at you and judging by the look of guilt plastered across your face, you did in fact have iced coffee.

“Maybe?” You answer, though it came out more like a question. Florence rolls her eyes at you.

“(Y/n), how many times do you have to be reminded that you’re lactose intolerant?” She scolded you.

You scoff, holding a hand up at her, “Trust me, I’m reminded every time I sit on a toilet.” You shake your head, trying to refocus the conversation.

“This isn’t about my poor digestive system—why are you nervous?”

She sighs, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I’m used to doing interviews and stuff. But I haven’t been on Jimmy Fallon, and there’s an audience out there and I don’t want to mess up or accidentally spoil the movie.”

You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “You may be British, but you’re not Tom Holland. You won’t spoil anything.” You start. She quickly shoots you a look that screams, “you’re not helping”. You make a gesture physically telling her that you’re getting to the point.

“You’re going to be fine! I mean you did Jimmy Kimmel right? This shouldn’t be that different, it’s the same thing—just different studios, in different states, and different Jimmy’s.” You point out. She nods along as you continue, “Plus, I’m gonna be up there with you. You won’t be alone.”

With the help of your reassurance and witty little comments, Florence felt her anxiousness simmer down. They weren’t completely gone but the fact that you were gonna be up there together made her relax more. Being part of Marvel had its pros and cons. Sure, the movies are spectacular and the actors are outstanding. Though when it comes to doing promo for said movies, it can be quite stressful. It’s a known fact that Marvel and it’s executives can be quite strict when it comes to interviews with anyone involved in the making of their films—their strictness made sense, although for first time MCU members, it took some getting used to.

Florence smiles at you, “Thank you.”

You playfully nudge her shoulder with yours, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a kind smile.

The wholesome moment was interrupted by one of the stagehands telling you and Florence that the two of you were on in 15 seconds.

“Our guests tonight are making their big MCU debut in the new Black Widow film, please welcome (Y/n) (L/n) and Florence Pugh!”

⚘

“So in the movie, there’s three of you guys—where’s the other one?” Jimmy asked, motioning his hand to the small space between you and Flo.

“She’s at home I believe.” Florence answered, glancing at you. “She’s busy doing stuff, you know—adult things.” She added.

You took the opportunity to make a joke and said, “Yet here we are promoting her movie.” You roll your eyes playfully. The crowd bursts out laughing, along with Jimmy, who smacked his desk.

“You know, we deserve a raise for this.” Flo considers, going along with your joke. She slightly snorts and nudges your arm with her elbow. “We could take Scarlett’s check and just split it in half for ourselves.”

“Problem solved.” You shrugged, high fiving her.

Another round of laughs fill the room as Jimmy says, “So you’re both taking Scarlett’s money?”

Jokingly, you nod in approval, “By the end of this interview? Definitely.”

Dropping the bit, you shake your head with a grin on your face. “I’m kidding! I’m only joking, I wouldn’t do that to her, even if I were forced to.”

Jimmy moves on as a picture of you, Florence, and Scarlett pops up on the screen. The picture had been posted on your Instagram and was taken while the three of you were filming in between takes. You were taking the selfie while Scarlett and Florence were poking their heads out from behind you making funny faces.

“I can’t imagine how exciting it is to be on a Marvel set, and to even work with one of the first ever heroes in the MCU—that must be insane!” Jimmy exclaims, motioning to another picture of the three of you.

“It’s unbelievable. To work alongside Scarlett and to follow this kind of path that she’s paved in the MCU is an honor. She really was like our older sister behind the scenes, because she was always guiding us and taking care of everyone. She’s the best.” Florence responded while you nodded in agreement.

“I watched the movie last night and one of the things I enjoyed the most was the dynamic the three of you had. You guys were like actual siblings.” Jimmy mentioned, motioning between you and Flo.

Florence giggled before squeezing you into a tight hug, “Yeah, she’s my big sister.” You smiled beamingly, patting her cheek before she let go.

“No, really! She’s like my actual younger sister.” You tell the audience, who “awed” at the hug you both shared. “We spent months on this movie and we spent every single day with each other. By the middle of production, we were basically roommates.”

“Roommates?” Jimmy questioned, leaning his elbows on his desk.

“Because I was always at her house.” Florence answered in a ‘duh’ tone. “I’ve actually grown an attachment to (Y/n), she’s like my comfort blanket. So I need to have her with me at all times. If she’s not with me, I just won’t leave the house.”

“Speaking of your attachment to (Y/n), there’s this video of you that you apparently sent her?” Jimmy gestured at you, “And you posted it on your Instagram and now the whole internet is obsessed with it.”

“Yup, that’s the one.” You confirmed.

“I know there’s probably some people who haven’t seen it, so here’s the video.” The video of Florence popped up on the screen and began to play.

(This fic was based on this TikTok😭)

Jimmy looked at you and Florence in amusement, “Can we get some context?”

Florence waved her hand at the screen and said, “As you can all see, I’m very persistent.”

“This wasn’t your first time sending her these kinds of videos?” Jimmy asked. You shook your head, a feign look of annoyance on your face.

“No, she does this all the time.”

“In my defense, I was unexpectedly flying out to New York for a project. I knew I was gonna be in the city for a few days, so I decided to call (Y/n) and make the most of my trip.” Flo defended herself, slightly pouting.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, “To be fair, it was also our first time seeing each other since we wrapped Black Widow, and we really missed each other.”

“(Y/n), did you have to move any plans?” Jimmy turns to you. Florence does the same.

“You know what, you never told me if you had plans or not.” She squints her eyes at you. Your arms crossed while your body slowly sunk into the couch.

You pretend to fix your lipstick, quickly muttering, “I might’ve moved some plans around.”

Florence’s mouth gapes in shock, her entire body freezing. She grips onto your shoulder, “Wait, you actually moved plans for me?”

“I might’ve rescheduled a lunch with someone, but that doesn’t really matter.” You replied, trying to move on from the topic. Jimmy pointed at you, a giant grin on his face, “You actually moved plans for Florence!”

Florence’s mouth was still wide in shock, “I can’t believe you actually moved plans for me—(Y/n)!” She whined.

“I missed seeing you, so of course I had to move them.” You bashfully explained, the corners of your lips turning upwards. Florence pulled you into a hug.

“Gosh, you really do love me!” She exclaimed.

“I really do!” You said, your arms wrapping around her as well.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[myrulia]

About the Kokushibou x Muzan little sister ask can I get prompt 8 please 😅 sorry for the inconvenience.

.｡.:*✧Prompt 8: "It feels right, promise I don't mind."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Slight sexual tension

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: If an appearance/personality is made evident, then it is because you are related to Muzan.

`` [Y/N], my beloved sister, have you considered ever finding a suitable partner such as I did? ``

Your elder brother, Lord Kibutsuji Muzan, spoke as you both were seated in one of the many rooms of the Infinity Castle that was well away from everyone else since your discussion held private matters. 

`` Brother, you made your past wives go insane, and the one you have now is a fake. So therefore, it does not count. ``

Muzan let out a huff of annoyance at the same time you did, the habit being something you both inherited unfortunately which led to the Upper Moon Two to tease you about, which led to him becoming disciplined right after.

`` That is not the point. [Y/N], I do not want you to be alone- ``

`` But I'm not alone, I have you and the other Upper Moons..- ``

`` Ah yes, the Upper Moons you say? ``

There was a glint of mischievousness in Muzan's eyes that you became all too accustomed with, knowing he was coming up with a great plan that you know utterly nothing about. Truth be told, finding a partner would not seem like the worst thing, but your stubbornness has stopped you from giving into your older brother's wishes.

`` Since you brought up the Upper Moons, I'll start from there. ``

You quirked a brow up in response to his choice of words, crossing your arms habitually and holding the same accursed scowl Muzan would also make during his meetings.

`` Why don't you get to know them, `` he started, referring to the higher ranks. `` The Upper Three ranks would make suitable partners and would have no trouble protecting you when I am absent. ``

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to see a somewhat decent future with any of them. Sure, the idea had its pros, but far too many cons, especially with Douma. He was tall and handsome, sure, but had little to no emotions whatsoever and was too much of a masochist for you to handle.

Then there is Akaza. He was respectful to women and you actually found that trait attractive, but he was too focused on becoming strong and probably would not even give you the attention you would need.

Lastly, Kokushibou. An even taller demon who was quiet, well reserved, and surprisingly good looking despite having three sets of eyes. For once, you did not know the male's motives due to his nature, which allured you to him further. You have tried to strike up a conversation but he was quick to end it and would disappear somewhere else in the Castle.

`` Muzan, I would never consider Douma suitable, Akaza is a 50/50 chance, but Kokushibou- well..- ``

`` Well? ``

You wanted to voice out your opinion of the Upper Moon One to your brother, but knowing him, he would rat you out instantly just so that your relationship with him would get a move on so he can be satisfied.

`` Actually, nevermind, I'll take some time to think about it brother. ``

You got up from your chair and exited from the large room, jumping from the balcony and onto another platform. You repeated this process until you were well away from Muzan's quarters.

You were not even set on a destination, you just wanted to clear your head of his desire to find you a future husband. The idea was not a bad one, in fact it was a smart move in the first place, but it felt forced and not genuine to have to pick based off your brother telling you to.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not notice the large figure just in front of you, and before you knew it, you bumped right into the figure's back, causing it to fall over with you on top. 

`` Who- ``

`` I apologize! `` You blurted out before the voice could finish. `` I was not looking where I was going and ended up tumbling onto you so I'm sorry. ``

You quickly got off of the large figure who also stood up and adjusted his hakama accordingly that got slightly messed up in the fall. Once the figure is turned around, you are met with 3 pairs of eyes glaring down at your shorter form. It was none other than Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Rank One based on the kanji in his eyes. You look stunned as you take in his appearance. You expected a much more piercing gaze due to him usually having one, but instead of that, his face was more relaxed and dare I say neutral.

`` There is no need princess, `` the male said as he bowed in respect, not daring to leave unless you order for him to do so. The demons that lurked around the Castle were ordered by your high and mighty older brother to refer to you as "Princess" since he deems himself as the king. You objected of course, but in this moment you had no ounce of rejection to give. Usually you would dismiss the demons that call you such a thing, but it felt different with Kokushibou.

`` Still I bumped into yo- nevermind. Kokushibou I can trust you right? ``

Your question came out of the blue for the demon. Why were you suddenly asking if you can trust a man like him? Of course he did devote his life to both you and Muzan but his inner feelings and self doubt block himself from doing so fully. You always made things difficult for him.

`` Yes, you can entrust me with your life. ``

`` Are you only saying that because my brother told you to, or are you genuine? ``

The demon was rather taken aback by your bold choice of words, his eyes slightly enlarging before going back to a neutral expression. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, confusion taking over his features.

`` Why would I not want to protect someone dear to me? ``

You took a singular step back, desperately fighting the heat rushing to your cheeks and so to not embarrass yourself in front of him you covered the bottom half of your face and feigning a look of pondering. 

`` If you are genuine as you claim to be, then I shall tell you. Muzan wants me to find a suitable partner. ``

You were blunt yet again, believing that sugarcoating information only draws away time that could be spent doing something much more worthwhile. You removed your hand from your face, now holding a stern look with the much taller Upper Moon whose expression has shifted. A visible vein was pulsing on his neck that you learned was due to annoyance.

`` Have you found anyone? `` Kokushibou said with no clear indication of aggravation, but you knew of the male's habits from the years that you have you have to learn of the Upper ranks and their habits. You stepped closer towards him until your chest dangerously brushed against his, your hand reaching up to his hand and grabbing it gently. Kokushibou tensed up at the feeling of your soft hand being interlocked with his, so much so that he could not take his eyes off of your enticing ones. 

`` Yes. You. ``

You stood on your tippy toes just to move closer to his face. His height may have been an obstacle but you succeeded, leaving the demon to be well enough flustered for it to be noticeable. Your little manipulative tactics resembled those of Muzan's, you are siblings after all. You tugged your hand away from his, sliding it up his forearm ever so slowly and to his chest, resting there and not daring to break the eye contact you have built.

`` Even though I am directly blood related to Muzan, would you be willing to be my partner and love me for who I am instead of who I am related to? ``

Kokushibou was well aware of what you meant with those words, after all he himself is very intelligent and could see through your advances. But even so, he found himself falling for them time and time again. You could simply be doing your hair and his mind would wander to how your raven locks would feel in between his fingers. With you being his Lord's younger sister, he thought it would be practically sinning to think of you in such ways, but now that the opportunity presented itself, he would not let it slip from his grasp.

`` It feels right, promise I don't mind. ``

`` That's all I needed to hear from you Kokushibou. `` 

It took one small lean forward for your lips to land on his. Kokushibou instinctively returned the kiss as if he was programed to do so, except it was his full will driving him forward to finally have you as his own. To be able to have you by his side was almost a dream come true for him without even realizing it. Demons are essentially deprived of any real feeling so to have you return his feelings of infatuation fed into his desire all the same.

Although before the kiss could turn into a much more scandalous one, you retracted, but cupped his face in your hands.

`` Would He approve of this? `` Kokushibou asked whilst peering into your enchanting eyes again. His hands had moved to your waist but were quickly removed after the kiss, his own fears blocking him from allowing himself to submit to your enticing touch.

`` I don't need his approval, I am my own person who can make her own decisions. But, it was his idea so there is no need to worry. ``

`` That is all I needed to hear. ``

Kokushibou was the one who leaned forward this time, but before your lips could connect, he went to your neck and bit on your skin harshly which was bound to leave a mark. You gripped at his hair and tugged him away from your neck after you let out a small whine since your greed was increasing.

`` I am simply marking what is mine now, isn't that right, Princess? ``

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