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#w/morgan.1
princemordecai · 5 months
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@morgansbond location: Mercury's Bazaar notes: little starter for our connect
The comforts of home, the people, the city, and the familiarity were nice. There were things that he'd taken for granted when he lived in Eterna; growing up here, it was easy to forget that life wasn't nearly as comfortable outside this city. He'd come and gone when he was a kid when he'd started down the Olympian path, but conflict to the south had opened his eyes to what he'd always taken for granted: freedom. People like Morgan were a reminder of how bad it was outside Lysaran borders and how, even in this Queendom, people use those with magic as scapegoats for all the world's troubles. It is as if all life's problems and conflicts could be traced back to some spell or accident of birth.
"It's been a long time." A few years, anyway. Morgan was one of the few Iskarans who had gotten out, a survivor of what could only be a burning house for someone like him. The bazaar was dark, but apart from the sky above, you wouldn't know how late it was. He missed the tangible electricity of the bazaar; people from all over Lysara congregated here, shopping, selling, and seeking. While the Tower of Olympia hung overhead, the world he'd known still felt so far away. Leander extended his hand towards the other, a sign of respect despite the gap between their stations. "Good to see you again."
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doehoney · 6 months
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Dexter is actually crazy like why’s this man standing in a room full of the remains of people he killed, why’s he investigating himself, why’s he at an addiction anonymous meeting talking about his addiction to murder like it’s the same as doing crack cocaine, it’s only season 2
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silentgrim · 6 months
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welcome to hs!
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gifsofstar · 21 days
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1.04 || 1.05 || 1.07 || 1.10 || 1.11
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love-toxin · 1 month
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OMG miss ellie now if that aint the prettiest man i ever did see- i lovvvvvve your tav!! What’s his class? Also omg what kind of classes do you think your ocs would be? Ik there’s many of them, but if you could pick just a handful what class would you assign to them?
TY!!!!! 💞💞 ehe.....he's a vengeance paladin <3 im ngl u may have....inspired me, anon;; (and i may have spent WAY too much time making these;;) but ur question was too good so i had to dnd-ify some of the yans <3
also! i think adrian would be a good paladin <3 justice hell yea <3 umi i can see as a monk or a bard in slutty armour LOL. harley I'd say either ranger or barbarian! ingrid and angel i can see as clerics, and for jiyu and morgan i would say one of the magic classes like sorceror or wizard!
(adrian, ingrid, jiyu, angel, morgan, harley & umi below!! last 2 came out a bit wack but alas, i am at the mercy of the cc engine </3)
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thedailybullshit · 2 years
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RDR2 Incorrect Quotes pt. 29
Arthur: The one time I ignored Dutch’s advice, nothing went right for me.
Arthur: But when does anything go right for me anyway?
John: Beer me!
Arthur: What?
John: Hand me that water. I always say, “Beer me.” Gets a laugh, like, a quarter of the time.
Arthur: Lord, beer me strength.
Molly: I can’t do this. I’m leaving you.
Dutch: Not if I leave you first!
Molly:
Molly: This is your gang!
Tilly: Girls, is it gay to be a lesbian? Is it gay to raw a woman until she forgets her own name? Is that gay?
Dutch: Okay, here’s the plan. Arthur comes out of our hiding place to face the Pinkertons -
Arthur: I like it.
Dutch: - and we use Arthur as the human sacrifice.
Arthur: I like it.
Little John: Dad, why are there tides?
Young Dutch: *panicking* The moon is trying to steal our water but it’s very bad at it.
Dutch: Why are you wearing that scarf?
John: Why are you dressed like a gay sugar baby?
Dutch: . . . Okay.
Sean: I will put my A down to make “A”.
Karen: I will add to your “A” to make “AT”.
Tilly: I will add onto your “AT” to make “RAT”.
Lenny: I will add onto your “RAT” to make “BIOSTRATIGRAPHIC”.
Mary-Beth: *flips the board*
Charles: Remember, murder isn’t the answer.
Arthur: ‘Course not, it’s a question.
Sadie: And the answer is yes.
Dutch: I’m no sociopath. I always know that what I’m doing is wrong.
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mekatrio · 5 months
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bridge to turnabout's fanservice was so good it fooled everyone into thinking it was a well-written murder case when it really truly was Not
#thinking abt it again and godots plan to counter morgans plan was literally just#step 1.) get misty to channel dahlia so pearl cant#step 2.) monitor her actions#step 3.) see what happens. :)#didnt think to restrain her or throw her into the cavern or anything literally. nonsensical actions#had her try to dissuade pearl from channeling dahlia but when that failed it was like#'well ok misty go and channel her instead. yeah dont worry abt it surely nothing crazy will come from this'#iris just going along w constructing a fake crime scene so maya wont get incriminated#even tho godot could just. confess to his crime instead of risking maya getting convicted#and even then we couldve had a lovely scene explaining tht iris went along w godots plans bc she had#felt remorseful abt her sister poisoning him or something or the other#but no. no such thing#every one of godots nonsensical actions is explained away by He Did That Bc Of His Prideeeeee#and yet the ppl who can forgive this are the same ones who cant stand turnabout serenade for accusing a blind minor murder like pls#this type of absurdity is hardly distinct or unique#3-5's murder case is literally held up by toothpicks when u take a closer look at it#while paired along with some of the worst conclusions to various character arcs ever cuz takumi#is talented at writing story devices but not characters#and its only at the very end does this very blatantly show#but bc edgeworth is playable and franziska returns etc etc etc it doesnt matter 10/10 game amazing. Pleaseeeeee#aaing
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atlabeth · 2 months
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heat lightning
pt 1
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you end up at the heart of the bau's latest case.
a/n: took way too long but here's more gideon reader! just as irritable as ever with some actual human emotions this time around. send help and prayers bc she's gonna need it. and before you ask there will in fact be some more parts to close up this case, i just have to write them first and it may take approximately 10 years. thank you for your consideration
wc: 4.1k
warning(s): reader still has daddy issues, still hates spence, and still argues w gideon the whole time. more angst! typical cm case stuff (a stalker that has taken vulnerable pics of reader) read w/ discretion if you are sensitive to those things. more drama and more tension and more not being a good time for anyone but me
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“On your right, pretty boy.” 
Spencer stops as Morgan rushes past him back to his desk, eyes trained on the hallway. 
“Why are you in such a hurry?” he complains. “I nearly spilled my coffee.”
“Gideon’s daughter is here again,” he says. “Did you not feel the temperature drop five degrees?”
Spencer frowns. He opens his mouth to say something when he hears the telltale signs of your arrival: arguing. 
“—so typical of you! I have to drop everything the moment you need me, but it’s like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.”
Gideon turns the corner with you in tow. He has a duffle bag in one hand and a file in his other, his brow furrowed in frustration. 
“That’s because this is important,” he says. 
“Oh, and everything else I try to get you to be around for isn’t?” 
“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Gideon says, keeping his voice level. 
“This is ridiculous,” you spit. 
“It’s necessary,” he corrects. “I’m not going to play games with your safety.” 
“Oh, yeah,” you mock. “Because you’ve always cared about that.” 
He just shakes his head. “I’m not debating this with you.”
“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?”
You follow Gideon into his office and Spencer watches him close the blinds. The door slams shut, and though he can still hear the muffled argument he can’t make anything out.
“Oh, great,” Morgan says. “Now we can’t even get Reid to read their lips.”
“I don’t think we need it to know what they’re talking about,” Elle says. “They’ve been arguing since she was brought in.”
“Of course they have,” JJ says. “Gideon sent Hotch to pick her up instead of doing it himself. She sees it as another slight.”
“She sees everything as a slight,” Spencer says. “She hates him.” 
“I don’t blame her,” Morgan mutters. “Not when we only found out about her last month.” 
“Surely this isn’t helping with anything,” JJ says wryly. 
Elle shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Sometimes pointless arguing makes you feel better, even when you’re in the wrong.” 
“That’s enough, agents.” Spencer’s attention—along with everyone else’s—snaps to the top of the bullpen to see Hotch holding a file with the same expression as always. “I need you all in the conference room.” 
“Does it have anything to do with that?” Morgan asks, tilting his head towards Gideon’s office. 
“You’ll find out,” he says. Hotch starts walking to the conference room, the conversation clearly over. 
JJ sighs as she stands up and grabs the files on her desk. “I’ll get Penelope. The rest of you try not to gossip too much.” 
She goes off, and the others disperse back to their desk to finish up some last-minute things before the case takes them away. Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from Gideon’s office, even though he’s not getting anything. 
All he can think about is the last time you were here, when he got caught in the middle of your argument with Gideon—your dad, which was still a little weird—and he can’t help but feel guilty. 
Gideon is a father figure to him, sure, but it isn’t that difficult to end up with that dynamic when Spencer’s the youngest on the team. And he can go into everything about his father leaving and the psychology of that, but it doesn’t matter. Gideon treated him like a son when he had a daughter all along that he’d been neglecting. 
For all Spencer knows, it is his fault. 
“Reid,” Elle says, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you coming?”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding far too many times as he catches up to her in a few quick strides. “Sorry.”
“No need,” she remarks. “Gideon’s kid was all anyone could talk about when she first showed up here. This is only gonna make things worse.”
“He can’t really be that bad of a dad,” Spencer says, “right?”
“All I know is that having a parent in the force rarely ends well,” Elle murmurs. She opens the door to the conference room and looks at him. “We can’t be too hard on her when we probably see Gideon more than she does.”
Spencer recalls his meeting with you, how he barely got a word in edgewise while you spent the whole time arguing with someone half the office viewed as immovable. 
“Yeah,” he says distantly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
-
“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?” 
Your dad shuts the blinds on all the windows in his office, then closes the door behind you. He sets your duffle down on the floor then looks at you, that infuriatingly even expression still unchanged.
“It’s not ridiculous,” he says. “Sit down and lower your voice, please. We have some things to talk about.” 
“I gathered that when you sent your guy to pick me up,” you say, crossing your arms as he walks over to his desk. “Couldn’t even do it yourself?” 
“Aaron Hotchner is the chief of this unit and one of the most accomplished agents here,” he says. “He lives closer to you than I do, and I asked him to pick you up on his way in because I knew you would be safe with him. Sit down, please.” 
“There it is again. My safety.” You remain standing. “Tell me what this is about. I’m missing work right now— I know you can understand that, at least.” 
He lets out a sigh as he says your name and looks at you. “Can we get through this without any arguments for once?” 
“That depends. Are you going to treat me like your daughter or an inconvenience?” 
“You’re my daughter, I love you, and your life is in danger,” he says evenly. 
You open your mouth to retort, but your dad opens the file in his hands and sets it down on the other side of the desk. You can see from your position that they’re photos, but your curiosity ultimately wins out. You walk over to get a closer look, and any words die in your throat as you pick up the first photo. 
A photo of you. 
You pick up the next one, only to see it’s another picture of you. At least ten photos are tucked away in the file, and they’re all of you. Taken outside your work, at your apartment, on your morning run— god, there’s even one taken through the window of your bedroom, half-naked in a towel after a shower. 
You fall silently into the chair, your heart hammering inside your chest as your eyes dart between all of the photos. You want to crawl out of your skin. 
“What the fuck is this?” you breathe. 
“The heart of our newest case,” your dad says. “It appears that you have a stalker.” 
“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes still glued to your oblivious self, “I would fucking think so.”
“These photos were dropped off at my door this morning,” he says, and he flips to the next section of the file, “with that note.”
The erratic handwriting instantly stands out to you as you pick the photocopy up, the lump in your throat growing with every word you read. 
such a pretty little thing. I wonder if she knows it.
you don’t care about her, but I do. she’s just like all the rest of us, everyone that you’ve ruined.
think about your priorities, agent gideon. I’ll be watching.  
“What the fuck is this?” you repeat. Blood pounds in your skull as a distant chill creeps down your spine. “I— I’m one of your cases now?” 
“We’re not sure yet,” he admits. “These only appeared yesterday, but from the looks of it, the unsub has been watching you for a while. Can you pinpoint when any of these photos were taken? 
You stare at him. “Some psycho has been stalking me for a while?” 
Your dad says your name again, slightly strained. “Please. I know this is difficult to think about, but figuring out a time frame would help us.” 
“Difficult,” you scoff. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” 
But it doesn’t have the bite your words usually hold. For once, you don’t think you’re mad at your dad. You think you’re terrified. 
“...Yeah,” you finally murmur, and you pick up one of the photos. “I thrifted a mirror a month ago, and this one doesn’t have it.”
Your dad nods, and he picks up two others. “Neither do these.” 
“So this has been going on for at least a month,” you say bitterly. “Great.”
Your dad says your name, quieter this time, and when you finally look at him his eyes have softened. 
“We’re going to figure this out,” he says. “This is a threat against an FBI agent’s family, and it will be treated accordingly. Forensics is doing tests on all the original copies to try and find a lead. The whole BAU will be on your case—I will be on it, and we won’t rest until we find whoever’s doing this.” 
“Yeah,” you say numbly. “You sure that’ll help? Because it looks like all this is happening because I’m your daughter.” 
“I know this is scary,” he says. “This… this is nothing like you’ve ever dealt with before. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. But you have to trust my team. We know what we’re doing.” 
“Of course you know what you’re doing,” you say. “You’re always here.” 
Your words have no bite behind them, more of an instinct as you grab your purse from the ground. You can feel the pinpricks of incoming tears, and you refuse to cry in front of your dad. 
“I— I need a minute,” you say. “This is all just—” 
“I understand,” he says. “Just don’t go far. Stay on this floor.”
You nod and start towards the door, but you pause right before you reach it. Your mouth opens as you try to think of something to say, but it falls shut just as quickly. You shake your head as you reach for the door handle, but before you get the chance, it swings open and you’re met with a familiar face. 
Spencer Reid, the kid your dad likes more than you. He’s nothing less than surprised to see you, from his stumbled step back, the slightly wide eyes, his hand poised to knock on the door. 
A mumbled apology falls from your lips as you move around him, and you can still feel his eyes on you as you speed off. You wonder what ideas he and the rest of the BAU have drawn up about you since your last visit to the office. 
You don’t really care. 
True to your word, you don’t go far—just to the bathroom. Thankfully it’s close, because the moment you make it to one of the stalls, knees stinging as you fall to the tiled floor, you vomit. 
By the time you’ve expelled the contents of your stomach, it feels just as empty as the rest of you. You stare at the wall, breathing slightly harried and skin warm to the touch, and you resist the urge to punch it. 
You have a stalker. Someone has been watching you for a month—at least a month, maybe longer—and you had no fucking clue, and now your only decent hope lies with your dad and his team. 
Normally, you wrote off anything depending on your dad as fruitless, but this involved the thing he loved more than anything in the world: his job. 
You huff a wry laugh at the thought. This wouldn’t get solved because it concerned you, it would get solved because it concerned his job. 
You stand up and walk over to the sink. You rinse your mouth, then just stare at yourself in the mirror. 
It— it feels strange. Looking at yourself like this, knowing someone has been—still is—watching you. 
You recall their words. 
Pretty little thing. 
You don’t care about her, but I do. 
A chill crawls up your spine. You can’t shake the dread settling all over you. 
What the fuck are you going to do?
You have to trust your dad, but you’ve never trusted your dad. God, he’s not even really your dad. He’s Senior Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon, nothing more—the estranged kid is an unfortunate side effect of the estranged wife.
You let out another breathy laugh. Would he even care if this psycho actually ends up killing you? 
You stand there for another couple minutes, time idling in the background as you continue to stare at the mirror. 
You haven’t cried, at least. That’s certainly something.
The door opens ever so slightly and someone says your name. Your eyes flick to the mirror almost immediately as your body tenses, and you recognize her as one of the BAU’s agents. She’s pretty and blonde with sympathetic eyes, and you know they’ve been briefed on your situation. 
If you have to deal with an office of pitying looks, you think you might lose your mind. 
“Are you alright?” she asks softly. 
“Just peachy,” you mumble. “My dad ask you to check up on me?” 
She nods. “You can imagine why Gideon is a bit high strung at the moment.” 
“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I just… needed a second.” 
“I understand,” she murmurs. “Do you still need some time?” 
“What do you need?” 
“Gideon wants to talk to you. It’s best if he explains it.” 
You huff a laugh and shake your head. “Fine. Lead the way, Agent…” 
“Jareau,” she supplies. “But call me JJ, please.” 
In lieu of a response, you walk over to her. She offers a thin smile and holds the door for you, then falls into step with you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up. 
“We’re going to figure this out,” JJ says. “Your dad is one of the best to walk through these doors. If anyone can solve this, he can.” 
“So I keep hearing,” you murmur. 
-
Spencer watches you hurry off with wide eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it. He’s less surprised by your pace, and more surprised that you actually apologized for bumping into him. 
“Reid,” Gideon speaks up, and his attention snaps back over to his superior. “What do you need?” 
“Is she okay?” he asks instead. He can���t help it—after what Hotch just told all of them, he’s worried about you. 
Gideon gathers the photos back into the file then stands up. “Our job is to make sure she will be.”
“Hotch briefed us,” he says, and his eyes darted back to the doorway almost on instinct. “This— this is crazy. We just found out about her last month, and some guy’s been after her for longer?” 
“What this is is one of my enemies targeting my daughter because they’re too much of a coward to go after me,” Gideon says evenly. “We just have to figure out which one before they escalate.”
“How do you know?” he asks. 
“What you said is true,” he admits. “Hardly anyone knows I have a daughter. Even fewer would know where she lives. Someone who wants to hurt me would have incentive to discover both.” 
“So we look into unsubs you’ve put away that have been released,” Spencer says. “Or ones that are still in, but have family that might be bitter.”
“Exactly,” Gideon nods. “But I have to ask something of you, Reid.”
He frowns. “Anything.”
“We’re working on getting a safe house for my daughter,” Gideon says. “I need you to stay there with her.” 
Somehow, his frown deepens. “What?”
“I need to know she’s with someone I can trust,” he says. “There’s someone after her, and we don’t know who—that means we need to keep this circle tight.”
“So you want me to be her bodyguard?” Spencer marvels. “Do you remember that you had to waive all my physical tests?”
“Less of a bodyguard,” he says. “More just… keeping her company. Making sure she’s alright—mentally as much as physically.”
“Why am I the one that has to keep an eye on her?” Spencer asks. “She hates me!” 
“Don’t take it personally,” Gideon says. “She hates a lot of things.” 
“But it is personal,” Spencer insists. “She hates me because she thinks you like me more than her.” 
Gideon doesn’t seem phased at the comment. “She’s opinionated, but she’s harmless. And right now, I need to know that she’s with someone I can trust.”
“I— I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Please, Reid.” Gideon leans forward, and there’s an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. "If I'm going to be on this case, I need to know that she's safe. I won't be able to focus otherwise."
Spencer wasn’t going to lie—he genuinely thought it was a bad idea. But… Gideon said he trusted him. And this was his daughter—they might’ve argued, but they still cared about each other. if he could keep Lila Archer safe, he could keep you safe. 
“…Okay,” he finally concedes. “Okay.”
Gideon nods, and he watches the change in his eyes, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Just… make sure there are two bedrooms,” Spencer says. “I don’t need her to kill me one day in.”
At that, he cracks a rare smile. Spencer is thankful for it, that he can bring even the smallest amount of levity to Gideon’s life right now. 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
-
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Your dad says your name, but you hardly let him finish. 
“No! First I find out I have a stalker, then my whole life’s going to be uprooted until you find them, and now I have to be stuck with boy genius?”
“You know, we’re about the same age—”
“Do you ever stop talking?” you cry, whirling on Spencer.
“I actually don’t talk that much when I’m around you,” Spencer says, his brows creasing. “This is the third time I’ve met you, and I’ve only said nine sentences across those meetings. Thirteen, if you count all of these too.”
You let out a strained laugh as you shake your head, trying to blink back tears. “This is fucking unbelievable. I know he’s practically your son, but this is just—”
“A safety precaution,” your dad interrupts. “Doctor Spencer Reid is another one of the BAU’s finest agents, and he is fully qualified to keep you safe.”
“He looks like a strong breeze could snap him in half.”
“This is not a joke,” your dad says sternly. “None of this is a joke. Your life is in danger—you have a stalker that has been watching your every move for at least a month, and we have no idea what their next move will be. Doctor Reid is more experienced than you in every facet of this, and I am entrusting him to your care. I respect him immensely, and you will do so as well.”
You don’t even look at Spencer, quiet rage simmering beneath the surface as you stare at your father.
“You really don’t get it,” you murmur. “Do you?”
“The only thing to get is that your life is in increasing danger with every moment you spend pushing against me,” your dad says, and he stands up. “Get your purse. Reid, get her duffle. We’re leaving.”
He leaves before you get the chance to do anything—you assume he’s finally tired of you. 
You just shake your head and pick up your purse, and Spencer clears his throat as he reaches for your duffle bag. You wonder if it even has anything useful—Aaron Hotchner was the one who packed it. 
“…So,” Spencer says. “I guess we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”
You huff in fully unveiled annoyance, and you push past him on your way out. 
“Great,” he mutters to himself as he follows you. “So this is what Gideon’s trust earns me.” 
It doesn’t take him too long to catch up to you, despite the unnecessary quick pace you’re taking. You bypass the elevator and head towards the stairwell, and Spencer catches the door before it’s able to slam on him. 
He says your name, but you just shake your head. 
“If we’re gonna be stuck together until this is over, I’d prefer silence.” 
“I don’t really do silence,” Spencer says. 
“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of books for you to read in whatever jail cell they throw me in.” 
“It’s actually going to be a pretty nice safe house,” he starts, throwing his hand up against the wall to catch himself from running into it as he turns, because god you are moving fast, “Gideon picked it out himself.” 
“Oh, then it’ll definitely be a jail cell,” you mock. “It’s not like he knows anything about me, so he’ll probably think that it’s perfect.” 
Spencer frowns. “Cut him some slack. This is all just as hard on him as it is on you.” 
You come to a sudden stop, whirling around to face him, and Spencer has to reel to the side to prevent himself from running into you. Had he not already been pressed up against the wall, he would have moved back further, what with the fire blazing in your eyes. 
“I’m not going to cut him any slack,” you spit. “This is the most time I’ve gotten to spend with my dad in months, and it’s only because some creep is stalking me to get back at him. The only reason I’m in this at all is because of his job that he cares about more than me, and now he’s sticking me with the guy that he wishes was his kid. So no, Doctor Reid—I’m not going to cut him any slack.” 
You’re already off on your way again before Spencer even has time to blink, and you’ve made it down the whole last flight by the time he pushes himself back up. 
He takes the steps three at a time to catch up to you, and he once again barely manages to catch the door before it slams on him. He calls your name, finally managing to fall into step with you right before you reach Gideon. He, like a normal person, deigned to take the elevator. 
“You haven’t started arguing already,” he says, passing a glance at Spencer, “have you?” 
“What do you think?” you ask, your arms crossed. 
“I think you’re giving him a hard time that you usually reserve for me,” he says. “Cut him some slack.” 
Your jaw clenches. “I’ve been getting a lot of that lately. Save the profiling for my stalker, will you?”  
“There’s plenty of profiling to go around,” Gideon says. “You two wait here—I need to confirm the safe house location before we head out.” 
“Can we stop by my place before we go?” Spencer asks. “I need to pick up some things.” 
“You have a go bag, don’t you?” 
“Yeah, but I— I wasn’t exactly prepared for this sort of thing when I came in today.” 
“You’ll be fine,” Gideon says. He walks off before Spencer can protest, and he sighs. 
You lean against the wall, your arms crossed with your purse hanging off your shoulder, and for once you don’t pass judgment on his—admittedly small—plight. 
“I changed my mind,” Spencer speaks up, deciding to try and break the remarkably high amount of tension that had built up in such a short time, and your eyebrows rise as you glance at him. 
“About what?” 
“I— I think I can do silence,” he says. “Temporarily.” 
You huff a laugh. “Really?” 
“I don’t really want to annoy you while we’re stuck together in an undisclosed location,” he says. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.” 
And for the first time since Spencer has met you, you actually smile. It’s the smallest thing, just a slight tilt of your lips that’s more akin to Hotch’s moments of levity than anything, but it’s a smile. 
“...Good choice,” you say. It feels like a joke, but Spencer isn’t sure. 
He smiles anyway. You meet his eyes, and for a moment, you’re just another girl. Someone that Spencer could imagine himself stealing glances at in a lecture hall, a regular at his favorite coffee shop that he falls for over the course of an especially cold winter, someone he meets on a night out with the team that he ends up talking to all night. 
You really do have pretty eyes. 
And then your gaze hardens, darts away from him, and Spencer sees Gideon coming back in his peripherals. The moment fractures. 
You’re not just a girl. You’re Gideon’s daughter, you’re in a remarkable amount of danger, and lest he forget, you do in fact hate him. 
Spencer lets out another short sigh. 
At least this safe house won’t have a pool.
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kisses4reid · 3 months
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understand? pt. 1 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you’re a polyglot translator assigned to work for the bau in a cross-national case, and there’s a doctor who wants to impress you.
genre - fem!reader, SHE/HER r, fluff, meet cute, you know more than spencer and he’s attracted to that
warnings - you're both awkward, mentions of gross case file photos, little research about polyglots actually done so there are inaccuracies, cliffhanger for part 2.
w/c - 1.4k
a/n - thank you for the req anon!! there was multiple parts to this but i really like the first idea so that’s what this fic is about, might keep the other idea for later hehe. i did change some aspects. love you, thank you for the support <33 there will be multiple parts!!! stay tuned!!!
req - hi pia 💞💝🩷💓 how r u? i hope you’re feeling wonderful! this is my first time requesting smthg i apologize if i get something wrong! i’ve been having 2 thoughts about spencer x fem!reader, where reader is a russian translator and idk they meet cute or she has to work with the bau helping them on a case. just wanted to give these ideas to you, obviously feel free to do anything with them! i really enjoy your work and your writing is incredible! i have your notifications on so i am always reading whatever you post! have a great day pia 💝 lots n lots of kisses for u!
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This was not what you expected. 
You, a woman in your late twenties that spent most of her time in a room listening to voices and decoding foreign messages, didn’t know what you expected. But this: a scary boss, an italian old man, and a skinny college kid, was not it. 
“Y/n L/n? I’m Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, and this is Agent Rossi and Doctor Agent Reid.” 
You nodded your head, thick hair covering your top eyelashes as you glanced at the men. Agent Rossi shook your hand, and Dr Reid simply stood and gawked at you. To be honest, it made you worried. You had been warned this was a close knit team, that they trusted each other more than anything and that you shouldn’t get attached to any of them as you’d only be assisting them for one case.
Maybe they just didn’t warm up to new people. 
“I’ll do your formal introduction to the rest of the team now, if you’re settled down.” He asks cooly. You like the way his voice rasps, it’s assertive yet comforting. 
“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” You smiled reassuringly at the unit chief, not ignoring the raised eyebrow you received from the silent young man now behind you.
Aaron Hotchner, your new boss for the next week or so, lead you to a large room with a circular table sat in the middle. There were two other women, one blonde and one raven haired, and another bald man that glanced at you immediately after you entered. They smiled at you and trailed your steps to where you stood beside the unit chief in front of a large TV screen.
“Everyone, this is Agent Y/n L/n. She’ll be assisting us with the Becker case you’ve all been informed of. She’ll mainly be our translator and interpreter, but she’ll also be useful for cultural identifiers and anything that we wouldn’t notice otherwise.” 
You nodded along, never being a fan of introductions since you moved to America as a small child. 
“This is JJ, our liaison, Agent Emily Prentiss and Agent Derek Morgan.” 
The ladies smiled at you, in fact all of them did. They were surprisingly open to the fact you would be joining them, the fact made your shoulders loosen and a breath to be let out discreetly. 
Next, you were on a long plane flight to Maine with Agents you had known for little under two hours, conversing about victim profiles and motives. The table in front of the ladies and your boss was strewn with victim files and gruesome photos. And while you weren’t a stranger to the dangers and violence the job brought, you had gotten comfortable with only hearing about it and not seeing it. So you opted to hover around the table and stay silent, you weren’t a trained profiler after all, just a translator.  
There was a wave of cologne that disrupted your senses, causing you to angle your head back, only to be greeted by the tall doctor. 
You smiled softly, assuming the closeness was due to the aeroplane's arrangement. Also because you got the vibe that Spencer didn’t like you. 
“Are you okay? You seem uneasy,” he asked. It was the first time you heard his voice. And it was as adolescent as you imagined for someone so young, but it had a sophisticated edge to it, with a honey-like undertone. Finding things in voices as if they were perfumes was something you unconsciously started to do since working as a translator.
“I’m fine.” You grinned reassuringly, turning back to focus on the team’s findings. 
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped away, sitting down beside Morgan who had taken a seat at the back. Morgan squinted at his friend, noticing the rare confusion splayed on his face as he stared in your direction. 
“What’s up? Pretty girl got your tongue?” Morgan removed his headphones with a cheeky smile displayed on his handsome face.
“For someone who specialises in languages she doesn’t talk much.” 
Morgan smirked, “Maybe not to you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong though.” Spencer ripped his gaze off the back of your head.
“You’ve been staring at her since she walked through those doors. You were so distracted you didn’t even greet her this morning.” Morgan pointed out. Spencer tilted his head confused, a small blush creeping up his neck. “I watched the whole thing from the conference room, so did JJ and Emily.” 
The tall boy slumped in his chair and forced himself to look out of the plane’s window, avoiding a reply to Morgan as he knew it would only result in more teasing. You were physically attractive, everyone could see that, but the thing that caught Spencer’s attention was your intelligence. He was no stranger to being a polyglot, he learnt languages for fun, but you were simply next level. Morgan studied Spencer’s face for a second before raising his attention to your hovering state. “Agent Y/n L/n.” Morgan called, causing Spencer to widen his eyes and immediately adjust his slumped position in his plane seat. You turned your head in surprise, slightly confused why you would be needed anywhere else than the files you had been translating for the past two minutes. Your heels were silent against the carpeted floors, but Spencer could sense your presence anyways. 
“How many languages do you speak?” The stoic man asked, his eyes darting between you and the doctor below you. You were not short, your genes didn’t allow for it, but you had noticed you were only taller than JJ and Rossi in the team and it felt foreign to not tower over everyone. “Um, I speak 8 languages fluently, and 4 languages semi-fluently.” You stated, readying to turn back to assist the team before Morgan spoke up once again
“Did you know that pretty boy can speak Spanish and German?” 
Before Spencer could help himself, he corrected the man, “And Latin and Russian,” Spencer turned his head up to you, “But I can understand more.” 
You smiled, genuinely impressed and confused on how a man that young could learn that much. But to be fair, you were in the same boat. The nickname got your attention, locking it in the back of your mind to remind yourself that the people you were working with did in fact have senses of humour, and weren’t just heartless officers. There wasn’t any reason to think that though, as you had been cared for with respect and even Prentiss made a funny remark beforehand. It sort of felt like a family dinner you were intruding on. “That’s impressive, Doctor Reid.” You reply genuinely. 
“I mean it’s nothing compared to you though,” his voice was pitched slightly higher and his hands started motioning to nothing in particular, “your brain is constantly changing from high activity to low activity when you're translating from one language to another. Your language network, the lateral frontal lobe, is constantly lighting up and dimming down depending on what language you hear, ordinary people’s language networks only turn on and off.” 
Morgan smirked and glanced up at your intrigued and surprised expression. You nodded, a small blush coating the tips of your ears as you responded, “Thank you.” You didn’t really know what else to say, which is funny for someone who understands so many languages, so you simply smiled and turned back to the table. Spencer slumped again, watching you walk away and asking himself why he would inform a pretty girl about her own brain, when she most definitely already knows about it. 
“Don’t worry too much, Reid.” Morgan called, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The boy raised a brow, not understanding. “She digs it, I can tell. But she’s just like you, knows how to speak in a million ways and still doesn’t know how to small talk.” 
You landed without any more awkward interactions, and got introduced to some sheriffs in Maine, one of them giving you a tighter handshake than the rest and a stare that could only mean unpleasant things. It wasn't something sexist or creepy that lingered in his eyes, it was more like hatred. Spencer took the sheriff's attention away from you after noticing what the whole team did, and asked him to show him the records they kept at the precinct.
Emily Prentiss came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, squeezing it like she understood what you had thought you'd seen. Out of everyone else in the team, she would understand the most.
taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld
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thaoworra · 4 months
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The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!
Short Poems (50 finalists)
Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II
The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1
The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X
The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5
Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7
Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2
Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2
Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December
First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53
Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31
Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19
The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2
Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)
Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15
hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice
Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3
How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100
I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October
Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9
kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23
Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October
The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19
Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3
The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2
The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87
Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4
Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June
A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11
No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.
orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2
Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)
The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5
A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9
Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)
The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49
The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February
Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May
Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)
Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X
Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1
Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22
Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October
Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time
Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July
Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June
Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12
Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September
Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September
Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May
Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)
Long Poems (25 finalists)
Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4
As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87
Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice
Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26
Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May
Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4
Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3
The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88
How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55
Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124
The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3
Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November
Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283
A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April
Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)
Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5
Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)
Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)
St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1
Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125
A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56
Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October
What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12
The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50
The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4
Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.
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007reid · 11 months
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request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3
hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!
secrets. spencer reid
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part 1 | part 2
pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k
summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.
warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.
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spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.
you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.
really. you do.
“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”
the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.
you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.
you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.
you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.
you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.
“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.
he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.
“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”
“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”
“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.
“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“
“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.
“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”
“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.
“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”
“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“
“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.
and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.
lila?
“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.
“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”
by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.
“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.
“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.
it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.
“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”
“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“
morgan hangs up.
spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.
“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.
“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’
it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.
“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.
“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”
something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.
spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.
“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“
his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.
it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.
spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.
"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.
"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."
"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"
"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."
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kisavatore · 8 months
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Goth/alt cc finds part 2-Tops & Bottoms
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*some of the tops in cas
Tops [Part 2]
Haphe Corset | Distressed Days Collection Top | Base T-shirt | Ariel Corset Elizabeth Set Corset | Raven Corset | Gothic Cut Out Top | Demon Top Lush Corset | Claudia Top | Luly Top | Shaina Top | Velvet Ropes Top JaYoung Top | Alter Ego Top | Remember Forever Blouse | Lace Top Bodysuit | Lace-up Bodysuit | Sun & Moon Top | Psycho Lace Blouse Nightwalker Top | Mesh Crop Top | Y2k Corset | her.top | Drawstring Top Strike sweater | Metalika Top | Buckle Shirt | Bats Top | Roxi Crop Top
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Bottoms
Leather Pants | Morgan Skirt | Scarlett Pants | Taylor Skirt | Marian Pants Lacuna Jeans | Tartan skirt | Latex Pants | Padlock Skirt | Pleated Skirt Samara Set Skirt | Jeans Michael Pants | Jeans shorts | Esther Skirt Crust Pank Pants | Dusk Diva Pants | andrea skirt | Butterfly chain with skirt Eloise Skirt | Pandora Skirt | Cross Velvet Skirt | Drive Pants | Death Pants Riot Pants | Silence Speaks Pants | Demolition Skirt | Desire Skirt Yanzo Belted Skirt | Leggings | Emo Jeans | Mini Shorts | Nina Skirt w/Jeans jaz pants | Violet Skirt | Ruffle Skirt | Pleated Skirt | Demon Pants | Skirt w/chain
PT.1 | PT.2 | PT.3 | PT.4
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sailorholly · 1 year
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Strictly Business Pt 1
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Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader
Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/cases. Friends with benefits. Eventual smut.
W/C: 1.5K
You roll your eyes at Officer Brewer. The handsome cop came on pretty strong with his cheesy pickup lines. Each one was more inappropriate than the last. It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive, but in your five years at the BAU, you had learned not to hook up with the officers you were assisting.
You had only been with the team three months when you were called in to help Portland’s local police on a case. Deputy Julian Lopez had been assigned to assist you on the field and you quickly fell for him. It took six weeks to catch the unsub. During that time, you and Julian were sneaking around, having a secret relationship.
You were heartbroken to learn he had been using you for information he fed to the media to make himself look like the sole hero on the case. What made it worse was the scolding Hotch gave you. You should have known better.
You and your favorite coworker, Spencer were on your way out of the small police station to see the medical examiner. A jogger had stumbled across two bodies in the woods on their daily route. The two of you were going to see if you could find any similarities between them.
“Hey beanpole, take care of my girl for me.” Brewer called out to Reid, winking at you in a way that made bile rise in your throat. “You don’t actually like that guy, do you?” Spencer asked once you left. “No way! I just flirt with him to make sure he cooperates with us.”
Spencer took his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You watched the innocent act wondering what it would feel like to have his teeth sink into your lip like that. You were attracted to Spencer, there was no denying that. It was purely sexual though. You knew the kind of hectic life JJ and Will had. You wanted no part of that.
You didn’t understand why there wasn’t a pile of women at his feet at all times. But so many thought he was too awkward or talked too much. You found it endearing when he shared the information his brain retained from reading something only once.
The two of you were closest to each other out of everyone on the team. You read together on the way home from cases. You would let him look at the latest book you were reading. He would finish it in three minutes, then continue with his own. Once you had finished, he would discuss it with you. You loved that about him.
You mostly read smutty romance, and you looked forward to the blush that would flood his cheeks when he read a particularly spicy scene. Sometimes he would clear his throat and shift in his seat. Those were your favorite moments. You spent most of your spare time together watching movies, you were teaching him how to cook and he taught you how to play chess. You paled in comparison to his skills, but he enjoyed playing with you.
When you returned to the police station, Spencer started giving statistics about the unsub. You watched as he scrunched his nose when he got to a part he found particularly interesting. You were practically drooling when he started talking with his hands. You couldn’t help thinking of what they would feel like against your skin.
You squeeze your thighs together trying to suppress the throb in your panties. Most everyone hated when he went off on a tangent, spilling every detail he knew about something, but not you. You never interrupted him once he started. You thought it was incredibly sexy how much endless information was stored in that brilliant mind under his messy curls.
After four long days, the case was finally solved. Morgan had captured the unsub when he went back to visit the crime scene. The whole team and the local police went out to the closest dive bar to celebrate. You were three shots in when Officer Brewer asked you to dance.
You decided it wouldn’t hurt, and you felt a little bad for shamelessly flirting with him all week. To your surprise, he was a great dancer. He spun and dipped you like a professional. When the song ended, you both walked over to the large booth both of your coworkers had settled in. Brewer placed his hands on your hips pulling you tightly against his body. He pointed at Spencer. “That’s how you woo a lady, Einstein. I’ve seen how you look at her. Just know she’s in good hands. She will be sleeping with a real man. She’ll be screaming my name tonight.”
You quickly remove his hands from your body. One glance at Spencer was enough for you to know that the jab had hurt him. Luckily, Brewer wouldn’t be able to tell. But you could read Spencer like a book. You grabbed the nearest drink off the table, splashing it in his face.
“You pompous ass! I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. For your information, Spencer is more of a man than you’ll ever be. He’s the perfect lover. He knows the female anatomy like you know your ABC’s. He can spell out Webster’s Dictionary in its entirety with his tongue when he goes down on me. He’s incredible.”
Spencer looks at you in disbelief. His brown eyes widen as he takes in what just happened. You take his hand in yours. “I’m ready to go.” He stands and walks out with you. You go back to the hotel spending the rest of the night watching rom coms on TV.
When you were back home, everyone was talking about what you said at the bar. Most importantly, you had to explain to Hotch that you and Spencer were not involved. He didn’t want to deal with all of the paperwork or the drama if it didn’t work out.
Penelope, Emily, and JJ cornered you by the coffee wanting every dirty detail of your hookup with Spencer. They were understanding when you explained you made it all up to defend him. Rossi seemed amused by the gossip. When you tried to set the record straight, he said “What you kids do behind closed doors is your business.”
Morgan was a different story entirely. He greeted Spencer with a high five. “My man! You could have told me. You and Y/N, huh? I’ve seen you two all cuddled up after cases. I should’ve guessed.” Despite Spencer denying anything between you, Derek couldn’t be convinced otherwise.
A few weeks passed, the gossip had been long forgotten with all the cases you had been working on. Your first free weekend, Rossi invited everyone to his house for a cooking lesson. The wine was flowing, even Spencer had a few glasses.
He was chatting with Derek about some girl he met through his Dr Who fan club. Spencer described her as his dream girl, but he was nervous to ask her out. Derek slapped him playfully on the back. “At least you’re not a virgin anymore, Pretty Boy. You should have plenty of confidence with the ladies now.”
Spencer’s face fell. He stormed out of the house. You followed after him, concerned for your friend. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You catch up to him, sitting on the step beside him. “I’m just tired of all the comments on my personal life. Just because I don’t have a different girl in my bed every night doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.” You reply laying your head on his shoulder. “Why did you say all that stuff at the bar?” He places his head on top of yours. His mop of messy brown hair flowing down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to stand up for you. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk to you like that.”
“I know that. I meant… Never mind.” He lifts his head and scoots over, distancing himself from you. “What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He sighs looking everywhere but at you. “Why did you say I was a perfect lover and that thing about the dictionary?”
“It just kinda came out. I guess I said it because that’s what I always imagined it would be like.” Finally he looks at you. “You’ve imagined doing that with me?” His voice raises several octaves when he asks. You nod your head in response. You could tell the conversation was taking an awkward turn so you change the subject.
“So tell me about this dream girl. You’ve been keeping secrets!” He smiles sheepishly. “Her name’s Chloe. She’s brilliant. We like a lot of the same things. She speaks three languages. I want to ask her out on a date, but all that stuff Morgan said is messing with my head. What if I’m not enough for her? I’ve only been with one woman. I’m not exactly skilled in that department.”
He swallows hard, self doubt sketched all over his soft features. “I would like to have more experience before I take her out. So I can be more confident.” “I have a crazy idea. You can say no if you want. But what if we slept together? You want more experience and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It would be great practice for you since we are comfortable with each other. I would tell you what you need to improve on. And it would be a good stress reliever for me. What do you think?”
Spencer studies your face carefully looking for any signs of this being a cruel joke. When he is certain you meant it, he answers. “What about our friendship? I don’t want to mess this up.” He gestures between you.
“Of course we will still be friends. It’s not like we are going to fall in love. Think of it as a business transaction. We won’t let emotions get in the way. It will be strictly business.”
“No feelings?” He asks reaching his outstretched pinky towards you. “No feelings.” You confirm hooking your pinky with his.
Part Two
Tags (if you want to be added let me know)
@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85
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gifsofstar · 2 years
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aethon-recs · 9 months
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23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (Longfic Edition)
Happy New Year! 🤍 Here is a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2023.
I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, truly groundbreaking in some way in their approach to the ship. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of this ship existing, there's still new themes / tropes / dynamics to explore, and the authors are all so talented in making me think about the ship in some new way — just incredible examples of what it means to be a transformative work of fanfiction.
Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2023. As with a previous longfic rec list, I tried to find longer fics that were relatively under-rated (which is hard to define, but below 2K kudos for the most part).
See here for Part 1 (2023 Tomarrymort one-shots), and hope you lose many many happy hours to the unbridled joy of immersing yourself in one or more of these incredibly addictive, lovely longer fics!
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23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — Multi-Chaptered Fics
A Darkness by Any Other Name by river_marrow (M, 30k, WIP) 
Decades after the war ends, Harry is thrown through the Veil, and finds himself in an alternate reality where the leader of the Muggleborn uprising is the Dark Lord Voldemort.
A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot (M, 35k, WIP)
Blood and spittle rush to follow Riddle’s words that are dragged out through a wrecked throat. “I will consume you.” Harry felt a thrill run up his spine, along with the usual fear and anger that accompanied Voldemort's threats. “Be gentle, I can feel your soul ripping its stitches.”
And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)
When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.
At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)
"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted."
Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)
Harry finds out the hard way that Dementors can’t digest Horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help. A love story about immortals with too much time to kill.
Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 25k, WIP)
Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.
Exceeding Expectations by @mosiva (E, 56k, complete)
Harry Potter’s life ran along very different lines than Tom Riddle’s. He knew nothing more of the man than he read in the Daily Prophet. Then they get stuck in a lift together.
Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)
In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms — of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.
found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)
Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)
hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 21k, WIP)
Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.
if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)
When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy.
Lover's Spit by @blogalinda & @k3uuu (E, 123k, WIP)
Following his father's arrest on a dull hot Sunday in North Yorkshire, 10-year-old Tom Riddle becomes a dark internet sensation.  If Harry Potter listened to his father, he would never speak to Riddle again. But eight years after the arrest, an unexpected and painful encounter leads Harry to reconsider events — and arrive at a conclusion all his own. 
One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 189k, WIP)
A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.
Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)
Voldemort’s resurrection ritual doesn’t go as smoothly as he’d planned. He requires assistance and there’s only one person he can ask—the boy tied to his father’s gravestone.
Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight (M, 113k, WIP)
Instead of dying during the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort de-ages into an infant. Until he becomes old enough to be legally executed, he will be magically bound to Harry.
Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP) 
Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison in an A/B/O alternate universe setting.
Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 110k, WIP)
In a Voldemort Wins AU, Harry Potter was spared, and enters his seventh year at Hogwarts wanting to do Arithmancy research and keep his head down. However, after a chance encounter, it looks like it may not be so simple. Marvolo Gaunt seems to have his eye on Harry. The trouble is, Harry has no idea why. 
Tender Reigns Our Night by @noumena-writes (M, 93k, WIP)
Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort — using any means necessary. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's, examining dark artefacts and desperately trying to fulfil his orders.
the demiurge, the leontoeides by @ramabear (E, 125k, WIP)
Thomas Gaunt reaches through the dimensions and plucks an eleven-year-old Harry Potter from his world and brings him home again.
the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP) 
There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching.  “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”
the righteous dead by @aspengray (T, 23k, WIP)
Harry is resurrected, sewn together with thread and magic. He remembers nothing except that he loves his savior, a man named Voldemort.
The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 33k, WIP)
Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light. He is wondering if somehow the fruitless tugging on his heart means that somewhere, some way, Tom is watching over him. 
With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 157k, WIP)
A Hunger Games-AU featuring Harry and Tom as competing champions.  Harry has a saving people thing. It’s not conducive to surviving a battle royale. He doesn’t fancy his chances. Especially against Tom Riddle.
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immajustvibehere · 10 months
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Amidst a Crashing World (1/5)
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader
summary: You had left the gang about a year ago. There were many reasons as to why, but that you had received a rather gruff rejection from the man you loved was definitely on that list. Now, Arthur appears in front of your little cabin with an interesting demand.
tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)
Link to my Masterlist
1600 words, less than 10 minutes reading time
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It had been a year since you had last seen him. He was one of the reasons why you had decided to leave the gang. Because it had become unbearable to be around the man you had feelings for. The man you had confessed those feelings to and the man who had rejected you. It had been an uncomfortable moment, to say the least. Dutch had been talking about a bigger score for a while now and the mission had only been a few days away. You had approached Arthur who had been seated near a campfire with Hosea and Reverend, deep in a seemingly serious but one-sided conversation.
"May I talk to you for a moment?", you had pleaded. Your hands had been shaking. You had been aware: every score the boys went on held the possibility of never seeing them again. And you had felt brave that day. Brave enough to finally confess that you had feelings for this man. He was kind enough and caring towards you. He never was someone to express affection too openly so you hoped...that even if he did not feel entirely the same, he might be open to get to know you better and give you a chance.
"Sure", Arthur had grunted, a little groggily and stood up. You had walked a few steps away from Reverend and Hosea, just far enough to make give them the impression that this was supposed to be a private conversation. Quickly, but precisely and not without a certain shake in your voice, you let Arthur know that you liked him. More than the normal amount at least.
You peaked through your curtains to watch this very man dismount from his horse and caringly fix its reins next to the one of your horse, which was barely acknowledging the visitor.
For a moment, Arthur had just stared. Then he had shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with a warm but stifled chuckle escaping his throat.
"Yer joking, aren't ya?", he mumbled as he nervously peeked back to Hosea and Reverend, who hadn’t exactly given you attention during this ordeal. When Arthur had caught your dead-serious face and how you swallowed after he had said those words, he knew that you, in fact, hadn’t been joking.
"I- ehr...I don't see ya like that, I'm sorry", he had stumbled over his words. His voice hadn’t been upbeat or hopeful, not even apologetic or friendly. No, the longer you had turned those words over in your mind afterwards, you heard how bitter, how disappointed, and somewhat accusatory he sounded. He had turned around and had walked back to his log, shaking his head, chuckling coldly.
Arthur's hand plunged into his jacket, and he pulled out a wrinkly, yellowy paper that he unfolded. As he held the paper in one hand, a grin flitted across his face, before he took a breath and started loudly:
"I'm looking for the fierce, the ferocious....", Arthur stopped and plucked a ripe tomato from its stem. You had been growing this beautiful tomato plant right next to the gate that separated your garden from the path that travellers commonly used. But Arthur was the first one who had the audacity to help himself. Then he went on: "The downright awful degenerate y/n. Supposedly, she robbed a stagecoach and left the driver in a condition that left much to desire...She has fled to find refuge from her abhorrent, ginormous bounty of 15 proud dollars!"
Arthur had a shit-eating big grin on his face when you finally pushed the door to your little cabin open. He popped the tomato into his mouth, savouring the taste as he watched you step into the light and lean against the door frame.  
"That you?", Arthur asked indistinctly with his mouth full, quick to catch some tomato juice with his sleeve as it escaped the corner of his mouth. He held up the bounty poster that showed the most unflattering sketch of your features that you had ever seen.
"I look myself in the mirror quite often, but I've never seen this creature staring back", you joked as you nodded at the sketch. You were still unsure what his sudden appearance at your doorstep was supposed to mean.
Arthur shrugged and sarcastically answered: "I really think they did ya justice. Have you seen the pictures going round of me?"
You had. They weren't nearly as bad as the one he held up of you. But they did paint him more cruel than he looked right now. Honestly, knowing him better, all you can see is an actually soft man which might look big and scary when he swings his gun around, but now, as he took his hat off, he looked harmless. The afternoon sun nearly blinded him as he looked at you, but he deemed the gesture necessary to be polite, apparently.
"Yer trying to take me in for a 15 dollar bounty?", you asked and crossed your arms.
"Don't want'a sound rude but that's barely worth it...", Arthur smiled, "No I ehrm...was close by. A farmer down that way told me you was living here. I helped him fix a wheel on his waggon."
"Sure...", you mumbled suspiciously. There was no way you would have naturally come up in this conversation.
"'s been a while...", Arthur commented.
"Yeah. More than a year. Took me this long to figure out how it'd bear fruit", you pointed at the tomato plant Arthur had stolen from.
Shamelessly, he plugged another one and ate it, "They're good."
"I know", you sighed. You had given up and moved aside to let the man into your cabin.
It was a humble little place. Just big enough to fit a table, three chairs, a bed, a stove and a cupboard. Arthur noticed the rifle that leaned next to the bed, the few books that were scattered on the table and finally his eyes fell on a couple of sketches you had pinned onto the wall. After leaving the gang, you had tried your luck with drawing. Yes, it was a way to remember Arthur, because though you haven't seen many of his drawings, you knew he sketched everything he laid his eyes on.
For a moment, you hoped that Arthur would comment on your sketches. There was one of a doe that you were particularly proud of, but Arthur just briefly scanned them before turning his attention back to you.
"Nice little cabin ya got here...killed the fella that lived in it before or...?", Arthur suggested, his eyes falling on a little hole in the roof that needed fixing and the bedframe which was uneven and brittle.
You almost laughed at the suggestion: "No. It belongs to an old lady who went to live with her sister in the city. She gave me the cabin to look out for, until her grandson is old enough to live in it."
"Oh", Arthur commented, fidgeting with his hat.
You had spent months trying to forget this man. You were sure you'd never see him again, not if you could have helped it. You were glad about leaving your affiliations with the van der Linde gang behind. However, this had never been the official deal. The deal had been that you could roam for a while, figure yourself out and then join back. You never did. And now you had a sour feeling as to why this man was currently scanning your backyard through the window.
"Why are you here?", you asked, your tone serious.
"It's good to see you again", Arthur light-heartedly said. It almost sounded like a joke.
"Arthur", you warned him.
"Lot has happened since you left...", Arthur said, still wandering around in this cabin as if he was scanning the small territory, "we lost some people in Blackwater...Mac and Davey...Jenny..."
You knew about Mac. It was reported in the newspaper, but when Arthur mentioned Jenny, your jaw dropped. You felt a sort of anger flare up. You had gotten along well with Jenny. She was a kind and funny girl and you had considered her a friend.
"How did- Why...How did this even happen?!", you grumbled, "Jenny wasn't someone who would be in the midst of a fight. Hell, she knew how to handle a gun, but-"
"I know", Arthur interrupted, "couple weeks ago we lost Sean, too."
"Why are you here, Arthur? And why are you telling me this?"
"Wanted to see how you've been doing...", he shrugged, but his demeanour changed when you opened a drawer. You didn't even need to pull out the gun before Arthur stopped with the sugarcoating.
"Dutch wants you back."
Hell, this didn't sound like a suggestion. It was more like a threat. Arthur was here to collect you. Not for a 15-dollar bounty, but for Dutch. Because he had lost too many people and now you needed to jump in. Also, every bit of hope you held close to your heart, that Arthur...that there was a tiny bit of him that wanted to see you. That he really wondered how you had been doing.
It died with those words. It stung.
"Get out", you demanded.
"Y/N-"
"Arthur, I'm not coming back."
"Dutch-"
"I don't care. I don't give a fuck what Dutch wants", you yelled, slowly pulling the gun out, "Honestly, you have some nerve showing up with this request."
Then, you had to laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of it and laugh because you were hurt. The laughter helped to supress the tears, for now.
"Ya ain't gonna shoot me, sweetheart", Arthur said knowingly, putting his hat back on and slowly backing out towards the door, arms still raised because he didn't want to give you the impression that he'd draw on you.
"Don't flatter yourself", you said, slowly walking towards him to make him move out of your house, "I wouldn't shoot your pretty face, but I can put holes in other parts of your body and it would hurt enough."
You felt bold, cocked the gun and aimed at his leg.
"Y/N..."
"Tell Dutch you didn't find me. Tell him I'm dead. Tell him I forced you to draw on me and you shot me...I honestly don't care. I'm not going back. I'm not...canon fodder for a cause I don't believe in anymore", you stated, your eyes fixed on Arthur. He might just notice that tears pricked your eyes, there was a hint of concern in his features.
When he opened his mouth, you were quick to interrupt him: "If you care for me just the tiniest fucking bit...yer gonna fuck off right now and not come back."
You thought about how he'd answer, 'I don't see ya like that', lasso you and drag you back into whatever hole the gang was hiding at the moment, but instead, he tipped his hat, turned around and mounted his horse.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Next chapter: here
I never have the nerve to keep a consistent taglist, but here are some tags for people who said they might be interested in that sort of story:
@pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @lonesome-ranger @twola @shiokitsune @hugthedragon @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463
If you want to be tagged, please comment under this post if you want to be included to the taglist for this story OR any fic I post in future.
Special thanks to @little-honeypie 'cause we've been cooking that story up together <3
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