#also after this if the FBI hunts me down tell my cat I love him

[crow-aka-gayass]

I think I figured out why the world is going to shit

Okay I have to preface this by saying, I figured this out a few weeks ago when I was running on less that 20 hours of sleep that week and it was a Saturday, this was figured out at 4am

>They decatogorised Pluto as a planet

>Pluto is named after Hades

>What did this start with, the beginning of a Pandemic

>Where are we now

>Mass inflation and the collapse of capitalism

>Hades is the god of Death and Riches

How do we solve the many criseas the world is in?

Recatagorise Pluto as a planet

IM NOT CRAZY

[dgct2]

Season 3 Kristin Gaines

I started this project as a celebration of Alexa's birthday which is May 28th. This set features the 16 episodes before Dylan McDermott joins the show as Remy Scott.

As always click on the link to go to my gif-set. Please like or reblog if you want to keep them. Do not use the gifs for anything else. It took me a long time to make them.

COMPLETED: May 28th, 2023

Other Kristin Threads

Season 3 Remy & Kristin - 3x17 to 3x22.

Season 4 Remy & Kristin - 4x01 to 4x22.

3x01 Exposed

A local FBI case involving two murdered women and a sea of powerful men turns into a manhunt for the dangerous leader of a far-reaching criminal enterprise.

This is Part 3 of the 1st FBI Crossover. Alexa Davalos joins the show as Kristin Gaines. This crossover would also be the introduction of Luke Kleintank as Scott Forrester on FBI International. Alexa and Luke starred opposite each other in Prime Video's alt history thriller The Man In The Castle. That is my next set of gif sets that I will be working on.

3x02 Patriots

New Fugitive Task Force member Kristin Gaines joins Jess and the team as they head to DC to find a dangerous fugitive from the January 6 Capitol riot.

3x03 Tough Love

When a judge known for serving harsh sentences to juveniles is murdered, the team looks into his lengthy list of cases in the hunt for his killer; Kristin faces family hurdles while resettling with her teenage daughter in New York City.

3x04 Inherited

The team must determine if the kidnapping of a young Chinese-American woman is a random hate crime or if she was specifically targeted; Jess and Sarah struggle with Tali's continued rebellious streak.

Trivia: We meet CIA Agent Kevin Miller in this episode. Kristin asks him about the interest the Chinese have in CRISPR tech. Kevin will show up later in 3x22 A Man Without A Country.

3x05 Unhinged

After a deadly fire at an arcade, the team discovers the blaze was just the first step in an intricate plan to exact revenge on one of the victims; Hana rejoins the team, finding new adjustments in all aspects of her life.

Trivia: There is a blooper in this episode. When Hana and Kristin are talking to the loan shark you can see a wedding ring on Kristin's hand. Later when Kristin talks to Hana and Sheryll she tells that she's divorced from Nick.

3x06 Lovesick

The team attempts to hunt down a family annihilator before he continues his murder spree; Barnes' intrusive mother puts pressure on her marriage.

3x07 Gladiator

The team investigates the murder of a professional basketball player's wife, who was a famous lifestyle guru; Kristin and her ex-husband grow closer; special agent Isobel Castille checks in with the team on the high-profile case.

3x08 Sport Of Kings

After a prized Kentucky racehorse is stolen and its groomer is taken hostage, the team quickly learns they may be the only ones who consider the young woman's safety a priority over the horse's; Byron returns to celebrate the holidays with Jess.

3x09 Run Hide Fight

While holiday shopping, Barnes and Jess are caught in the middle of a mall shooting; Gaines, Hana and Ortiz try to help from the outside, knowing their team's family members are inside and at risk.

Trivia: This episode marks the introduction of David Hudgins as the new showrunner for FBI Most Wanted. It is also the first episode that follows a new format of jumping right into the action.

3x10 Incendiary

The team hunts for a young man who is using napalm-style bombs to attack his targets; with Tali away, Jess and Sarah begin to adjust to their empty nest.

3x11 Hunter

The task force chases a killer who plays a twisted game of cat and mouse with his victims; Hana shares something personal about herself with her new roommate, Ortiz.

3x12 El Pincho ( 7 Parts )

The team searches for a notorious Colombian drug lord after he escapes from a U.S. prison; Kristin begins to open up to her ex-husband about her past.

Trivia: This is the episode that delves into Kristin's past in Miami. We'll learn more in 4x03 Succession.

3x13 Overlooked

The team searches for a businessman wanted for murder and an embezzlement scheme; Jess takes advantage of his empty nest to properly court Sarah.

3x14 Shattered

The team pursues an abusive man who is on the hunt for an ex-girlfriend trying to escape him; Jess and Sarah make plans to take their dream vacation together.

Trivia: This is the final episode with Julian McMahon as SSA Jess LaCroix.

3x15 Incel

The team must track down a murderous member of the incel community targeting those he believes never give him a chance; Barnes, Hana, Ortiz and Kristin deal with their grief in the wake of Jess' death.

Alexa Davalos is marked as the lead actor for this episode. This is the first time in the FBI verse. She was the lead actor on The Man In The High Castle.

3x16 Decriminalized

The team gets called to Vermont after a married couple who grow illegal marijuana massacres their employees; Barnes begins to regret not taking any time off to bond with her new baby.

[notmrskennedy]

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle 

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action. 

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people. 

Alive people. 

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done. 

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain. 

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg. 

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids. 

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway. 

[dandannoodl3s]

So wow this is my first fanfic. I finally completed the Blacklist (hopped on the bandwagon a little late I know) but since we all have to wait a while before Season 8 comes out next year (hopefully!) I thought I would write a short Keenler fic right after that explosive season 7 partly animated finale. It picks up straight after Liz’s confrontation with Dom in the hospital where she tells him she had chosen Katarina in her quest for the truth and that she would hurt him and Red if they came in her way. I hope you like it and since this is my first, please go easy on me *inserts puppy dog eyes* Also I would like to mention and give full credits to @alyblacklist for your Ressler GIF. I love your blog!!

Liz bursts out of the makeshift hospital they were keeping Dom in. He was stable now, but her confrontation with him lying in a coma stirred something in her that terrified her. Did she really just threaten Dom? Her very own grandfather for a woman she’s known hardly a few months? For a woman who not just tried to kill her grandfather but also posed a threat to Agnes and herself with her very presence? And Reddington, was she really willing to step out of his hold and away from his shadow in her quest to get answers about her life, her past, who he was and why she was so important to him? He may be an imposter and his constant cat and mouse games, moves and countermoves and skirting of the truth frustrated Liz to a boiling degree, but he was in all things considered, the one person who had risked his life and everything to protect her more than a handful of times.

Red was the only one who understood and forgave the dark side that had emerged after Tom’s death. But then again who Tom was and why he died at the end of the day all led back to Red. Who is she without Red? But then again who is she with Red? Could she really trust Katarina? There’s so much she wanted to know yet she felt overwhelmed by the mess and complexity that her life had become. She knew she was playing a very dangerous game where someone was bound to get hurt. And whoever that would be didn’t matter because it would all come back to hurt her in the end; she was after all Masha Rastova, whose life in the last decade or so had been a constant rainfall of bad news.

Speaking of rainfall, it was getting dark. It had been cloudy all day and suddenly Liz felt droplets of water fall on her. She wanted to scream into the night. Now more than ever she needed someone. Someone to make her feel sane, normal and loved as opposed to being tugged, prodded and manipulated for a war that she was still trying to prepare herself for. Liz got into her car, tears already falling down her cheeks as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few days and hours. And then she remembered what Ressler had said to her before their hunt for the Kazanjian brothers, “You gotta decide between the two of them and whether the fact that she rescued him tip the scales any?”

Before she knew it Liz was driving to Ressler’s apartment. They’d become closer than ever in the last few months, especially now that Liz knew he trusted her enough to be able to tell her his darkest childhood secret, something that had haunted him all his life.

“And somewhere in that FEMA disaster of a life, is a tiny island of calm”

Liz remembered what she had said to him just a few days ago. Those words had shifted their partnership forever and had made their bond the most important thing in her life after Agnes. It was pouring by now. She parked outside his apartment and wondered whether she should go and just bear her soul to him. Tell him everything. She was soaking wet. Her eyes red from having cried all the way to his apartment after having overanalyzed the precarious situation she had put herself in by siding with Katarina. Another betrayal.

She took the stairs to calm herself down but by the time she was outside his apartment she was not only drenched but also struggling to catch her breath. She was tired and emotional and didn’t know anywhere else to go. It was always like this. Ressler was the only one she found herself wanting to go to.

She knocked on the door, well aware that it was almost 11pm. After what felt like minutes, the door opened Liz looked up to see him.

“Liz, geez are you okay? What happened?”

Why couldn’t she move ?

“Liz, come here, come in”

He took her arm gently and led the way in. While she stood in the middle of his hallway, he rushed across to the bathroom to bring her a towel, along with a warm sweater and a pair of his old joggers.

“Come on, dry yourself, I’ll make us some coffee and you can tell me what’s going on”

“Ress..I..I..did it”

Ressler’s forehead furrowed in confusion

“Did what Keen?”

“I picked a side like you told me to. And god knows why but I chose her.”

And then came the tears.

Ressler swiftly made his way across to her, a look of concern washed all over his face. He wrapped his arms around her. The way he had done so many times. But this time it was different. This time they were more in sync than ever, especially after she explained why she had helped cover up the crime he and his brother had committed when they were kids. He knew there and then he was ready to fight by her side no matter who she chose.

Liz was shivering. Ressler held her for as long as she needed, while she latched on to him for comfort. Soon she broke away but her eyes latched deep into Ressler’s warm, piercing blue eyes. They held their gaze for a long time. Too long for them to just be friends anymore. A deep, monumental seven years of trust, love, hope and comfort that had been established between them since Red’s introduction of his ‘Blacklist’.

“I’ll clean up” She smiled a sad, tired smile.

Ressler’s POV

It was 2am. Liz had just finished telling him everything. And he could tell how relived she was that someone finally knew what she’s been holding in and struggling with. He had seen her life become caught in the crossfire between two lethal and dangerous criminals, whose real intentions with her remained as unclear to them as they had been since the day Raymond Reddington surrendered to the FBI.

Seated at his dining table, Liz had her legs up on the chair, curled into a blanket while he looked at her.

“You’re staring”

Huh?

“Ress, you’re staring at me” Her face slightly flushed.

Oh.

“Um... I’m just wrapping my head around all this. But I want you to know that you’re not alone in this. I’m here with you, every step of the way. I told you, I’m not planning to go anywhere, I got you.”

In that moment he swore he saw Liz’s face glow like nothing he’d ever seen before. She was beautiful and also taken aback by the forwardness of his emotions. Things had definitely changed... perhaps it was time.

She got out of her seat and made her way to him. Instinctively he got up from his own seat, his mind and heart very aware of his beautiful partner standing in front of him. Her hand was on his chest, both of them breathing deeply, looking into each others’ eyes, lost in the domesticity and naturalness of it all. She took another step forward, her eyes not leaving his for a single second. They spoke volumes of how thankful she was and how much it mattered to her that he took her side.

And in that moment he wanted nothing more than to finally kiss her and make it known that he felt the same way about her, but before he could finish his thoughts, he felt her lips against his. His arms instantly wrapped around her waist as she stood on her toes to meet his height. It was a slow, loving and deep kiss. A kiss that marked their long journey through hell, bullets, murders, comas, sociopaths and spies only for them to find a home in each other.

End

I’m open to prompts if you want some more fan fic!!!

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Riverdale 5x09 Review

Well I didn’t hate this episode like I hated the last one but I wasn’t exactly blown away by it either. It wasn’t a bad episode but I think my issue with it is if you dropped it into the middles of season 3 or 4 it would have fit in. It was fine it was just nothing new which you know doesn’t exactly make me excited to watch more. It was definitely one of those episodes where I either found myself checking to see how long was left or was rolling my eyes at something. Still there were moments I enjoyed. But without further ado lets jump in. As always these are just my own opinions and interpretation also there are clearly spoilers. 

 Betty and Polly

So a good chunk of this episode was following Betty as she continued to investigate what happened to Polly after finding the crushed telephone booth. Betty hears back from Glen and is told that the blood found on the booth is a match to Polly’s so with the amount of blood that is there it is likely she is dead. When she tells Jughead he tells her that he might have a lead, someone who might have seen something. So they go to see My Dreyfuss. He tells them on two other occasions a phone booth has been shredded like it was with Polly, in the summer of 77 and 82. He explains that its caused by the Mothmen ship’s antimatter fusion reactors which create a gravity field that allows them to levitate but anything that gets caught in that field gets crushed. Which you know sounds legit to me. Though I will say I did think the look Betty sent Jughead when Old Dreyfuss started talking about the Mothmen was hilarious. Needless to say Betty wasn’t exactly sold on this version of events. Which again I found kind of funny considering she hunted down something called The Gargoyle King in high school but apparently aliens are even too weird for Betty. 

I am not at all surprised that Polly’s storyline is linking up with the Mothmen one, I’ve been saying for a while now that I thought all the storylines would converge at some point and I expected that Jughead’s and Betty’s would be the first to do that. My theory is that the Mothmen mystery is to do with military testing and that will tie in Archie as well, I also think as the Mothmen body Nana Rose had was found in the maple groves, and Hiram has an interest in the maple groves, that Hiram’s storyline will also be linked in, which will also link in Veronica and the other characters who are going up against Hiram to save the town. I did wonder if maybe its not really Hiram that wants Riverdale to be shut down but rather some rogue section of the military who want to cover up the testing they’ve been doing and that’s why Hiram unincorporated the town, maybe the military are paying him to help them. 

So in her grief at what has presumably happened to Polly has sent Betty off the deep end. Now here’s the thing with this I appreciate that not every character’s development goes in a straight line. That’s what makes a character’s storyline interesting. There are twists and turns and they have set backs. That being said this return to dark betty didn’t really work for me. I mean I can understand that she is grieving for her sister, she’s going through trauma because of TBK and all that is making her turn back to her dark side. But for me I thought they wrote a good end to that whole storyline with her going under the hypnosis and kind of telling her younger self she could go play, and basically ‘killing’ dark betty before she is ever born. I liked how, well how I thought they had brought a close to that part of Betty’s character development. I honestly thought we were done with ‘dark betty’. But I guess not. I suppose we see where they take it maybe it will be well written but I’ll be honest it did kind of make me roll my eyes a bit in this episode, I just feel like it was a bit too on the nose and predictable especially after her speech last episode to Archie about how this thing with her sister would probably be the darkest she’d ever have to face. I said to myself then watch them bring back dark betty, so when they did I was just kind of like of course they are going there again. I think that was the issue was it is just more of the same stuff which I just find boring. 

There was one thing that I did find a little interesting though and that was the way she was thinking in that moment. The idea that the person in front of her was a horrible person who had hurt someone she loved and so deserved to have justice brought to him in the form of death. Sound familiar? Because it should, its exactly the same way Charles thinks. I do wonder if that was deliberate and we were suppose to draw a comparison between Betty and Charles there. 

I think in that moment when she is about to kill the trucker, Jughead’s call telling her that Logan had gone missing reminded her of why she was an FBI agent, to protect people and I think that kind of snaps her out of it. In that moment she could have killed that man or she could go and find the missing child who really needed her and who needed protection which is what she was saying earlier in the episode, that she wouldn’t let what happened to Polly happen to anyone else. At first she decided the best way to stop anyone else from getting hurt is by going after the truckers and stopping the women who are tricking there. But her method has flaws in it and I think getting that phone call reminds her that its not as black and white as she was looking at it.   

So poor Alice, I felt really bad for her in this episode she does seem like she was very much giving up hope. I mean Alice has been put through the wringer so I don’t really blame Betty for lying about it being a match to Polly’s blood I mean it wasn’t advisable because the truth was going to come out eventually but I could understand why Betty did it, she just couldn’t bear to take away the little hope that her mother had left. I am glad that Betty turned to Cheryl for this. I said that I thought if it came out that Polly had been killed then I thought Cheryl would be the best person to help Betty through that. You know different people can help with different things and like I keep saying how I really do think Archie will be the best person to help Betty through the TBK trauma I do think that Cheryl was the best person to help Betty here. She gave her some good advice even if Betty didn’t follow it. I think it was important what Cheryl said about how it is best to know the truth because then that allows you to grieve and heal and move on. I also loved that hug Cheryl gave Betty. If anyone needs a hug right now its Betty. Also I do like when they show Betty and Cheryl actually acting like family. 

So lastly I want to cover Glen. I’ll be honest Glen and Betty’s relationship confuses me. Because in the first episode of the time jump they seemed to have something going on between them in that they kissed. But I said then that it didn’t seem like Betty was that interested in him. But since then it seems like she just doesn’t like him at all. I could understand why she was angry in this episode when he says he’s sorry about Polly and she says that if he cared that he would have done something to help. I know Riverdale are trying to paint Glen as this bad person, like how he shows up at the end and tells Alice about the blood and takes over the case. I just know that they are trying to do this because they either want Glen to seem suspicious or they are actually going to go the route of he is evil and somehow involved in it all. What I will say to that is oh for the love of god please no, not this crap again. I just if they make another FBI agent a killer in this series I just no. Can we not keep rehashing the same damn storylines over and over. Can we please introduce a character to the show and not have them turn out to be some psycho because its just boring now. Also like I said I know they are trying to paint Glen as being the bad guy here, but it makes perfect sense for them to take Betty off this case. For one she is still a trainee who is severely traumatised by her capture by a serial killer. On top of that this case involves her family member, there is a reason why irl certain professions don’t allow you to work on cases involving your family members and that scene where Betty had tied the trucker up was seriously considering killing him is why. Firefighter, police, doctors, paramedics and I am going to assume FBI agents aren’t allowed to work on cases of a personal nature for that very reason, they are too invested and that clouds their judgement. Glen should have taken Betty off the case when Polly first went missing, or rather Betty should never have been on the case at all. Also the other question I have is if Glen is here who the hell is feeding Toffee? He better have brought that cat with him. When I made my prediction post for episode 10 I hadn’t seen the episode and so was very confused at the opening shot of the promo where Betty is slapping Glen squarely across the face but I am going to assume it has something to do with this situation. Or maybe he tries to make a move on her and she isn’t down for it? Or another situation is he could find out about her and Archie’s arrangement and make an unfavourable comment about Betty which she decided to set him straight about? Either way there is most certainly going to be some tension between Glen and Betty next episode. What I do find interesting is that apparently the only actors Glen’s actor is following are Lili, KJ, Hart and Wyatt so I am assuming that he has scenes with Archie, Charles and Chic. I do wonder if instead of having Glen turn out to be bad they just have either Charles or Chic kill him. 

To be honest I am still in two minds as to whether Polly is actually dead. On one hand that was a lot of blood on that phone booth and we do know that she was in that phone booth and someone was coming for her. On the other it seemed like they were being very careful to say it was the same blood type as Polly’s and not that it was Polly’s so there is that uncertainty. I mean if they have the blood surely they would be able to DNA match it not just go off the blood type? 

Jughead and Lerman. 

Ok so I’m not hundred percent sure what the point of this storyline was, I feel like its just another piece of the puzzle and we won’t really know the significance of it until the rest of the mystery is revealed. But what did annoy me was the fact that Jughead was reprimanded for talking to his student who he was worried about. I mean when the parents were like oh if you were worried something was wrong at home then why didn’t you come talk to us instead of ambushing our son. I mean the answer to that is obvious if the parents were mistreating their son then talking to them isn’t going to do any good because the parents would just lie. Even if they aren’t really doing anything wrong like these parents they might be wary about telling the truth out of fear of being judged, I mean they didn’t offer up that information about Lerman sleep walking until he went missing, so I think talking to his student was exactly the right thing for Jughead to do. Also since when was there another English class, I mean I thought the school was struggling with staff and that's why they needed the core four to become teachers? 

It does seem like something odd happened with Lerman with him going missing and then not being able to remember anything. What is very odd is that you’ve got two sets of missing people. You’ve got the women who keep showing up dead usually with some catastrophic injuries. Then you’ve got the men who disappear for hours at a time but then return but have no memories of where they’ve been. Yet all of it seems to be connected so the question is why are the women dying but the men are surviving? It because physically the men are able to take whatever the testing is but the women can’t and so their bodies end up with these terrible injuries. Or is it that whatever they use to wipe the memories of their test subjects doesn’t work on the women so they are forced to kill them after? I mean physiologically women and men are different so maybe the difference in the hormones or something is what’s causing this difference in outcome between women and men. 

By the end of the episode Lerman and his parents have moved out of town and haven’t left any forwarding details. This does seem a little weird but I guess maybe the parents are worried about what will happen to their son if they don’t get him out of there. 

Veronica, Archie and The Bulldogs.  

Ok I know I said I wasn’t a v*rchie shipper and that as a barchie I didn’t want to see any of that, but Riverdale you didn’t have to stick them in the darkest room ever to have them kiss. Like I know that Riverdale is known for bad lighting but that one scene between them was even more ridiculous than normal. Look if you like V*rchie then that’s all good, there were some scenes that I think were probably enjoyable for you and I am happy for the V*rchie shippers. For me though I don’t know if its just because I’ve seen so much of them at this point that its made my mind go numb to them but I just found their scenes boring. I was actually surprised they didn’t talk more, especially seeing as they’ve just got back together, she’s going through a divorce, but none of that was brought up. Their scenes seemed to be really short and not much happened in them, it was just a couple of kiss scenes and then one bed scene were Veronica says oh I have a plan and then that was kind of it. I thought they’d at least have a scene where they say something like ‘I’m so happy we got back together’ or ‘I’ve filed the divorce paper’s I just have to wait for Chad to sign them’. Just anything to get that continuity, but nope nothing.    

To be honest I really wasn’t that fussed about the football storyline. I did find it kind of funny that when presented with the problem of the team losing every game Veronica’s solution was to just throw money at it, like somehow that would magically make them better players. That being said there were some elements of it that I did enjoy. I loved Archie making that speech to encourage people to support their team. It is true that having a crowd behind you and supporting you makes a difference in sports so I liked that they put some attention on that. I also love Britta and I am so happy she was the one that scored. The other thing I liked was that when the kid who was like their star player, Derek transferred to Stonewell there wasn’t any tension between him and his old team. Like I think Hiram was expecting there to be but instead when they met on the pitch he and Britta were really respectful and just fist bumped and got on with the game and I loved that. Also after, he came and spoke to Archie and again he recognised that Archie had taught him something valuable that he was going to keep with him. Again it was very respectful and supportive. Both Archie and the team recognised that it wasn’t personal, it was just that Derek knew he had a better shot at going to college with a football scholarship if he was playing with the Stallions. 

Speaking of things that I liked, lets give a hand for Reggie. I have so much respect for the fact that when Hiram was saying he wanted Reggie to basically beat up some of the Bulldog players, Reggie refused and said it wasn’t necessary. Then when Hiram fired or ‘benched’ him as Hiram put it Reggie still didn’t back down and even said that he would be standing with the Bulldogs. Also it was good to see him back in that Bulldog jacket and even though it was a very small scene I loved the three way hug between Veronica, Reggie and Tabitha. 

Ok the other thing we had was that part of the plan to raise the teams spirits was to fill the stands, which you know makes sense, like I said I do think having a crowd supporting you makes all the difference. Cheryl decides that one thing that will fill the stands isn’t just a Vixen’s performance but one that includes her. Now me personally I don’t think she’s wrong, like if I heard that the new Vixen coach who was the town recluse and had spend the last seven years holed up in her gothic mansion of horrors was going to be putting on a performance with her Vixens, I am there, front row baby. This I want to see, at best it might actually be good and at worst it’ll be a cringefest but either way it’ll be entertaining as hell. I just think that scene with Cheryl performing was peak Riverdaleness. I know alot of people complain about those kinds of scenes but me personally I think they’re part of what makes Riverdale, well Riverdale. So I just choose to embrace the Riverdaleness of it all.   

Overall I think the issue with this whole football storyline is it is once again the same thing we’ve been seeing for the last four seasons. It’s Veronica and Archie vs Hiram and that’s just nothing interesting about that anymore. 

Kevin

So Kevin got his own storyline this episode and we got a little background story on him. I’m a bit conflicted about his storyline and this idea that he is ashamed of being gay because I never really got that sense before. To be honest I always thought he was proud and confident of being gay. However I could see him having this experience with his mother where he feels ashamed of being gay when she makes a insensitive comment and then him getting into the whole cruising in the woods as a coping mechanism. It also explains why he still continued with the cruising when the Black hood was around. But then if I remember rightly he did stop for a bit. So maybe he started to heal a bit and become more confident and then that incident with the director from Katy Keene happened and that made him feel ashamed again and brought all that back up again and Fangs was away alot Trucking so he asks for a open relationship so that he can turn back to that old coping mechanism of cruising. That would make sense to me but they don’t really touch on that trauma he experienced in New York with the director in this episode. 

Cheryl acting as a relationship councillor was sort of amusing. I mean it was sweet that she wanted to fix Kangs, I think she recognised that what she did was wrong and so she wanted to help mend it. But like Fangs said the games Cheryl played just brought up deeper issues that were already there. I feel so sad for both of them. I mean Kevin is clearly struggling but I really felt for Fangs when he said that Kevin had never really been all in and that he wants to know everything about Kevin the good and bad. In that moment I could see that Fangs really does love Kevin. Also I think the fact that Fangs hit the nail right on the head with Kevin being ashamed of being gay shows that Fangs really does know and understand Kevin. I do feel like Kevin’s view on things right now is very similar to how Betty was seeing things with Archie. I think like Betty didn’t want her darkness to effect Archie, Kevin doesn’t want his to effect Fangs. Both of these views are flawed though because when you’re at your darkest that’s when you need someone to draw you back to the light. I do hope he talks this through with Betty and little because I think they could both help the other see the truth of their situations. 

The scene in the sauna was rough to watch. Kevin didn’t deserve that, it was an obvious mistake, he misread the situation and there was no need for that guy to react with violence unfortunately, its sad to say, but we live in a world where this kind of thing happens, where toxic masculinity results in males reacting with hate and violence towards gay men and that is never ok. I don’t think this helped Kevin in dealing with his shame at being gay, it most likely made it worse and that just makes me so so sad.   

I’m not gay, so Kevin’s story didn’t hit me on a personal level like I think it might have for other viewers, but his scene with Tom when he was talking about how he was made to feel ashamed of being gay really moved me to tears. I think it was a very touching scene and both actors did a good job. I am so glad that Kevin did open up to his dad. I also thought it was really good how when Tom worried that he might have done something to make Kevin feel that way Kevin reassured him that he had always been supportive of Kevin and had never judged him and I do think that is why Kevin felt he could open up to Tom. Just everything about that scene was done really well. I really do hope that he does find the courage to talk to Fangs about it though. I think Kevin does still love Fangs and its not that he doesn’t want to be with him, its that he doesn’t think that he deserves to be and that is just heart breaking. I still have some hope for Kangs though and I’m really hoping we get to see Kevin healing and working through things. I do think next weeks episode might help Kevin realise what he really wants. We know that he is in a potentially life threatening situation with a gunman in the school so maybe that makes him reflect on his life choices. Seriously though nothing better happen to Kevin. 

Little bits

Ok so these don’t really relate to any of the other sections really so I just figured I throw them all together at the end here. 

I loved that little parallel to season 1 with Barchie where Betty hears Archie over the speaker and sort of looks up at the sound of his voice. Also that shot of Betty working on the car I don’t know why but she looked really pretty, I really like her hair in that shot. 

Sticking with Barchie this one is a complaint about continuity. Riverdale seems to really struggle with this for some reason. But like I said with Veronica and Archie and how there didn’t seem to be any connection with the events of the previous episode this is the same kind of thing. Last episode Betty said she wouldn’t go through everything with Polly alone she would still go through it with Archie and yet despite there being big changes in the case Barchie didn’t interact at all. It could have been something really small like Betty giving Archie a call to let him know that Polly’s blood was a match and him offering her help, her saying no it was ok focus on the bulldogs, him telling her he was there if she needed anything. It isn’t much it wouldn’t have taken up much screen time but it would have given a link back to the previous episode. The same can be said for Minerva. Last episode her and Cheryl kissed which to me was a major development in the relationship and yet in this episode she’s no where to be seen and she isn’t even mentioned. Again Toni, where’s Toni? I thought they would at least mention something like she’s on maternity leave or something. Nope nothing. In fact the only link back to last episode we got was Cheryl talking to Kangs about the games she played causing problems for them. It’s just one of the things that frustrates me with Riverdale the lack of continuity.

No idea what this might mean if anything but did anyone else notice that when Dreyfuss started talking about the Mothmen ship his little burner with the teapot on it, suddenly the flame became higher before it went back to normal? Like there was some kind of energy in play there maybe? 

I was really glad to see Tabitha interacting with people outside of Jughead and I liked the little scenes she got with Veronica. I know Erinn said in her instagram takeover that Tabitha would be interacting with alot of the other characters too soon so I am looking forward to that. As much as I love her and Jughead’s dynamic I think it’ll be interesting to see her with others. 

Ok well that’s it for this week. I am still looking forward to next weeks episode. I do feel like this episode was a bit of a filler episode but next week looks like its going to be action packed so it should be a good watch.   

[greenninjagal-blog]

currently vibing in a two-week lockdown, can you share some of your favorite fics? i need some new things to read, and I've got too much time on my hands-

Aw man, same! The rest of my actual Spring Semester got turned online… Let’s see…..Fic recs for the pseudo End of the World (Courtesy of AO3, arranged by most prominent ship!) Keep in mind that my descriptions are shorter and written mostly for comedic effect than the actual fics, so if something looks interesting Click it! Get more info about it! Don’t just take my word! I tried my best to get a lot of variety of fics and topics and tropes, as well as authors that might not be as well known! Uhhh here are the links to lists I’ve already made for various other reasons check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

I also am including various of my fav authors masterlists for funsies!

jungle321jungle’s || Max-isTired’s || TrashficParlour’s || Lefaystrent’s || Mine!

Completed Fics

A Deal in which Virgil tries to summon a familiar and gets a Circle King instead. And he’s really pretty. (Anxceit)

Love Like You in which Virgil decides to give up looking for a romantic partner and considers adopting instead. He finds more than he’s looking for with a set of twins and the man who watches over them (Anxceit)

A Dragon’s Tail in which Logan is cursed to be a Dragon by his best friends stepmother, Virgil is struggling to learn a power he can’t control, Patton who’d rather marry a servant than the Prince, and Roman has no clue what is going on but the Prince he’s supposed to be saving can probably kick his ass. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

A Game of Vice in which Remus kidnaps Roman and turns it into a game of who can come save him from his lonely tower. (Logicality, Prinxeity) 

double down with the paradigms in which Logan tries to explain away his own OCD while dealing with the emotions he has for a certain Pre-Vet. Excellent depiction of OCD, made me cry, 300/10 would read again. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

It Takes Two to Tango in which Roman begs his brother, Logan, to let him go back in time to meet a famous dancer. Falling in Love was not part of the plan. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

A favorite star in the heavens in which everyone has at least one soulmate. They’re luckily enough to have three each. (LAMP) 

Forgotten Forests and Magnified Myths in which Logan finds out very suddenly that he has the passive ability to talk to dragons. (DAMP, Remilie)

Sense5 in which five people in different countries are suddenly psychically linked together and uh…yeah fun times. (DLAMP)

Stray Hearts Are Subject To Change in which black cat hybrid Virgil plans to die very heroically in an alley and Roman completely messes up that plan by being a decent human being. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

Hidden In Shadows in which Virgil is the boogieman every adult warned you about but he doesn’t actually enjoy being scary. Good thing the three Sanders kids aren’t scared of anything. (Not so good for their very confused Dad who isn’t sure what to do about their new imaginary friend)

Paved with Good Intentions in which the dark sides agree to send Virgil to the light sides as a way to get Thomas to listen to them more. Now if Virgil can just get along with the Light sides enough to actually start making some progress…

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone in which Logan is a morally grey scientist who just works for supervillains because they pay well. He doesn’t expect someone like Virgil to change that.

Series

Clouds and Moss AU in which the sides are gods and its very gay and very good. (Intrulogical, Roceit)

Colors in which Logan is an excellent Dad, Virgil is an amazing son, and the world is very colorful. (Logicality)

Labeled in which Logan is a famous superhero, Patton is a doctor, and they adopt the would-be super villain and everything is soft and lovely and I cry at the purity. (Logicality, Remilie)

Fbi!au in which the sides work for the fbi and I diligently reread these series of oneshots for a daily dose of serotonin!  (Logince, Moxiety)

Growing Old is More Fun with You in which Patton is a PTA dad and so is Deceit and they have a “rivalry”. (Mociet)

Gilded Cage in which Roman is forced to dance for the fairy queen whenever she wants it. (Prinxiety)

Renegades! in which the sides live in a dystopia and fight the government while being completely in love with each other. (Prinxiety, Logiciality) 

Love and Other Fairytales in which a couple decides to keep their changling and their actual son, a child is cursed gifted a voice that makes people do whatever he says, a boy makes a rotten deal for the sake of his friend, and centuries before any of this, a fae prince is tricked into an endless sleep by his brother. 

The Vampire Hunting Vampire in which Virgil was turned into a monster and LPR slowly convince him he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Through cuddles. (LAMP, DLAMP)

Wasteland, Baby! in which there are things in the woods and Patton gets,,, intimate with them. On purpose! (LAMP)

Destined in which Damian has successfully ignored his Soulmates for five years and he planned on doing it for much longer but on his twentieth birthday fate intervenes with a second soultrait that forces him to come face to face with all of them. (DLAMP)

Old Gods in which Gods sometimes walk the earth and Remus is pleased to hear that people are still making offerings to him– wait that is not a goat. And other fun stories!

Sit back and watch the world go by in which Virgil is a human abducted by alien smugglers, befriends Patton, breaks out, and everyone fears humans as space orcs, almost as much as Virgil is afraid of them. 

Teaming the Pieces Together in which Thomas is a pokemon trainer and eevees just…click with him.

Tales from the Dark Sides in which the author provides a lovely hub of works where Virgil is abused by OC dark sides and DLMPR are there to help patch him up.

Uncle Emile and the Super Nephews in which Emile gets custody of his six nephews and tries to bond with them. They in turn try very hard not to tell him they have superpowers.

Cuffed Universe in which Remus is a cop chasing after a hacker, Logan breaks the laws and Virgil would just like tO KEEP ONE JOB WITHOUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE OTHERS DRAGGING HIM INTO THEIR SHIT. (Analomus)

Ongoing Fics

The Origin in which space travel via Thomas Sanders’s ship SS Revelation gets more complicated when the Planets themselves turn out to be entities who aren’t all on board with humanity spreading to the rest of the solar system. (Remile) 

Delicato in which Logan and Patton are music professors with very different conceptions of music, and Virgil and Roman are students in both their classes who just want them to kiss already. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

Coming out of The Shadows in which a small mutant child Virgil is treated as subhuman because of his uncontrolled ability to manipulate shadows up until a scientist buys him. (Royality)

Falling Stars At My Command in which Roman wishes on a star and Patton reaps the benefits while Logan unfortunately gets dragged along for the ride. (Royality) 

Sugar in which Patton has three sons and no free time to bother with a relationship while he’s trying to manage bills. At least until Roman walks into his life. Sugar Daddy anyone? (Royality) 

A Man, a Snake, and a Rat in which Logan, Deceit, and Remus become college roomates (Intruloceit) 

a.s.h.es, ashes (We all fall down) in which after Logan almost dies during one of his recuse missions, him and his partner start to dig into the superhero agency they’re employed by and stumble into something far bigger than they expected. (Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP? LAMP)

Keep him safe in which Detective Logan falls for the owner of his new favorite bakery while his partner Roman falls for the gang member they’re chasing. Ft: emotions, a pet rat, dealing with delusions 101, trauma, and family so gooey it literally makes me melt whenever it updates. I love this fic so much. (Advertises as Logicality and Prinxiety but theres so much LAMP I can’t not put it down here)

Multitudes in which Virgil works at a coffeeshop, pines over the customers that come in, and wonders why they all tip him so well. (LAMP)

Songbird in which the only thing keeping Virgil’s parents alive is his voice: the moment the (new) King gets tired of listening to him its off with all their heads. And Virgil’s okay with that, he is…. Until three visiting nobles leaving him wishing for his freedom for the first time since he was ten. (LAMP)

Shatter in which Logan gets fed up with not being listened to, and takes some poor advice from Rage, which ends with the entire Mindscape being turned upside down and inside out. Now its up to Deceit fix it all. (aka the author decided it was about high time Deceit got some love and appreciation and I’m out here living for it.) (DAMP)

Incredible Cosmic Power in which Virgil awakens some genies by accident and they refuse to let him go back to living a relatively normal peaceful life. (DLAMP)

Plea for my New Self in which Vampire Virgil decides he wants to start over again, and goes back to college to work on coding. There he proceeds to do reckless good with his absurd amount of wealth and a “fuck it” attitude. Actually one of my favorite things ever okay. I love this one so much. (DLAMP)

Your Wish Is My Command in which Thomas accidentally rubs six lamps and becomes the glorified babysitter to six jinn who definitely don’t trust him. But its fineeee. (DLAMP)

6 Dads in which Deceit, Emile, Remus, Roman, Thomas, and Remy make a relationship work and their children aren’t sure how but go along with it anyway.

Rebel Rebel in which Thomas, a well respected man, visits the Imagination, for some pleasure business as a one time thing. Except that he keeps coming back. Maybe maybe falls in love with one, two, thr– all of the men who work there. 

A New Kind of Experiment  in which Virgil runs away from home, and ends up kidnapped by merman, and somehow he doesn’t mind that much.

Becoming His Own Hero in which everyone has to juggle their superhero lives with their regular lives and sometimes…its just hard.

don’t wanna be a tragedy in which brothers Roman and Remus get a house and subsequently find out its totally, completely, 100% haunted.

Don’t You, Forget About Me in which the author recreates Breakfast club and does it spectacularly.

Heart’s Heroes in which Patton may be a villain but that does not mean he wants to see the child heroes of the city dead.

Mortals and Fae in which Deceit barely escapes the wrath of his town when they all turn against him. Dying, he stumbles into a fairy circle hoping that with his name the fae make his death short and sweet. Big Shock for him when he wakes up with a Fairy Prince swearing to protect him.

Sanders Family in which Thomas adopts six kids and has no regrets about it.

How Not to Go About an Important Inspection in which after a devastating betrayal the crew of the USS Bifrost is docked for repairs and the crew just wants to go back to being a normal family but Command is insisting on an inspection to ensure nothing so…drastic occurs again.

Symbiotic in which certain Vampires have a vemon that leaves with victims craving getting their blood drunken. Deceit, one of these Victims, continues to burn bridges because that’s easier than admitting he might need help dealing with this. 

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 31)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 3515

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re back kinda late,” Spencer noted as he read a book, sitting in the hotel chair next to the small desk they provided. 

“Yeah, uh, Dexter got stabbed at a bowling alley,” you explained. 

“Is he alright?” he asked, closing his book and looking at you, trying to find signs of distress. 

You mindlessly tossed your purse and keys onto the table. “Yeah, no he’s fine. Sorry, should’ve led with that. Uh, but he was stabbed by his mother’s murderer. Apparently, a few weeks ago, on the horrible advice of his NA sponsor, he went to find him in Naples and confront him. I guess things got heated, they had a fight, and somehow he found out who Dexter was and followed him. He came up behind Dexter. I had to warn him, and help fight him off. He got in his truck and got away though.”

“Sounds like an intense night. Are you okay?”

You nodded as Spencer stood up to come rub your arms and check on you. 

“I’m fine, yeah.”

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit distant.”

“Well, I have something I want to ask you and I’m worried how you’ll take it.” 

“No secrets, remember? Just ask me. I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he assured with a sweet smile. A smile you’d nearly forgotten about. You hadn’t seen it in so long. 

You took a deep breath, your eyes casting to the ugly hotel carpeting. “Okay, Dexter and I think it would be a good idea if you came along with us to kill his mother’s murderer.” You let out the breath you’d been holding. 

Spencer’s hands let go of your arms. Your eyes flashed up to see what his facial reaction was. It was morphed into a deep frown.

Okay, yeah, you knew that was coming. 

“What?” he asked, clearly put off. “Y/N, that’s the most insane idea i’ve ever heard. I don’t want to be any more a part of this than I am, than I have to be. You want to drag me along to watch this? And since when are you going back to killing again?”

“I’m not. I just want to be there to help Dexter. It’s mainly for moral support, nothing else.”

“Funny choice of words,” he said balefully as he began walking around the room, his hands going to his hair, disheveling it even further. 

“Don’t start right now. Look, I wasn’t thrilled either, but Dexter made a point. We think maybe you have this horrible imagery built up in your head about what we do, what he does. Some kind of villainous nightmare. Subjectively, yes, he does kill and he kills gruesomely. But objectively, this time we thought you could have some perspective. You nearly killed Cat because she had your mother hostage. This man brutally murdered his mother in front of him and his brother as little kids. Tell me you can’t find some iota of sympathy in you. I’m not saying you’ll enjoy this or want to do it, but maybe if you just watched us, watched his process, you’d see he wasn't some unhinged unsub.” You let out a breath, starting to feel frustrated. You didn’t know why you had to spell this out for him and it was getting old. Either he understood, or he didn’t.

He sighed, clenching his fist as he turned his head to the side, not looking at you. “Alright, you’re right. I said I’d support you in this, and I haven’t given you the full chance to show me what you two have done. I just assumed the worst, and because I love you, I forgave your actions. But you’re right, if I’m going to keep helping you two, Ineed to know exactly what it is you two do.” 

“Really? You’ll do this?” 

“I’m not excited about it, but if I’m going to fully understand where your mind was at and what you two did together, I need to see it. I think it will be beneficial either way. It might bring us closer together, it might help me see it from your view.” 

You nodded. “Good. I think it will help. He wants to do it in the morning because it’ll take all day to get to him in Naples, abduct him, and kill, and dispose of him.”

“Wow, that’s soon. What about work? All 3 of us can’t just disappear for a day.”

You bit your lip. “Shit, I forgot. Well, we just need to wait for a break in the case that could get us all some time off. As soon as things slow down one day, and they give us a break, we’ll go.”

He nodded in response and the next day, you told Dex your tentative schedule. He agreed that all three of you needed to be present, and in order to not raise further suspicion, you’d have to wait on Rossi to deem you all had worked too much, and for there to be a point for your team to just wait.

Doakes was eventually brought in but he barely stayed two minutes before he rushed out. You frowned, wondering why he was so upset, but kept back to your case work.

---------------

Much to your surprise, the BAU team started to look into officers past, but thankfully not into Dexter. In fact, they set their sights on Doakes, so all effort went into locating him. That was mainly on Garcia and Luke. Once Rossi and Matthews had declared him suspect number one, known only to your team, not the Miami PD, the case became hands off. It was a waiting game to see where Daokes would show up. All the profiling in the world couldn’t help with seeing where he might be going, but Rossi declared that the team should take a break while you all wait for some kind of news about his whereabouts. This was it, it was the chance you needed. Albeit noon, it provided enough time to get to Naples, stalk him, and do the rest. 

You and Spencer went to Dexter’s lab immediately and told him you needed to go. The three of you drove to his apartment where it was like deja vu. 

“Okay, so here’s how I operate,” Dexter explained, pulling out his trunk and duffel bags. “I’ve got all my kill tools in here, including the sedative, plastic wrap, and duct tape. Tonight, all we need is duct tape, plastic, scalpel, slides, dropper, and I’ll need to stop to pick up a chainsaw.” 

You glanced to Spencer to see how he was holding up. He had a bit of a sick look on his face. 

“Is the chainsaw really necessary?” he asked. 

“I typically try to use whatever my victims do. Unless it’s poison or suffocation. In this case, I think it’s highly fitting.”

“Y/N’s said that you usually kill them quickly, so they don’t feel pain. She said you do this with a large knife, like a hunting knife. Are we not using one tonight?” 

“Normally, yes, I stab them in the heart so it lowers the amount of spray and they have a rather quick death, but tonight, Jiminez deserves to feel everything.” 

“So this is the most personal kill you’ll do?” 

“Probably,” he responded with a bit of a shrug. “Alright. I hope you don’t love those clothes because there will be blood on them. I need to pack my apron, mask, and other protective gear. Y/N, you want your clothes?” 

“You let him keep your clothes?” Spencer asked, an undercurrent of hurt in his tone. 

“We thought it would be safer. He could wash them with his, and you’d never see them…” you quietly responded, feeling as if you were on trial.

With that, you told Dexter you wanted your clothes. You quickly changed into your old kill outfit, feeling an odd sensation being in them with Spencer around. Dexter offered Spencer some old clothes but he declined, rudely. 

Then the two of you set off in Dexter’s van. He stopped and picked up the chainsaw. Spencer said nothing to you while you two waited in the car. You were trying to gauge his thoughts and feelings, but he was giving almost nothing to go on. It made you feel anxious. You were somewhat terrified he’d leave this experience hating you, fearing you, seeing you as nothing more than a sick unsub. It could backfire and instead of bringing you closer together, it put you further apart. 

Dexter drove all the way to Naples, explaining how he was going to stalk Jimenez. Spencer didn’t have many questions, seeing as it was his job to know how unsubs thought, worked, calculated. He didn’t compliment or condescend him. 

Still, you were on edge about his reaction to all of this. 

Dexter drove up to the bar where Jiminez worked, and you all followed him, watching, waiting. You were sure Dexter was feeling the same thing you were - rush of adrenaline, all your senses sharpened, the ever vigilant eyes. 

Eventually, the stalking led you three to a run down cabin in the Everglades. It was extremely remote. After sitting with the engine killed for a long time and being sure Jiminez wouldn’t come out, Dexter turned to you two. 

“You remember this part, right?’ 

You nodded, in student mode once more. “Of course. We’re going to lure him out and sedate him.” 

“Wrong. You’re going to,” Dexter told you firmly. “Get in my bag, get the sedative.” 

Quickly, deftly, you did as you were told. You got the syringe out, opened the door quietly, and slipped out. You pulled the cap off and tossed it back in the car. Just as you were about to walk by Dexter’s driver window, he stopped you. 

“Wait, come here,” he quietly ordered. You walked back over and Dexter put his hand on yours. 

Red flags went off in Spencer’s mind. The simple touch seemed to make all those old feelings resurface. He always knew there was something further than just a friendship between you two. 

“Hold it like this, remember?” he instructed, wrapping your fingers in a particular way. “Keep the needle out, away from you. Go check, make sure he’s alone, create something to lure him out, and then attack from behind.” 

The small correction suddenly set Spencer at ease. Dexter was, in fact, just teaching you something. There was nothing remotely romantic about it at all. Some of the nerves he had built up, melted way.

“I know,” you reminded evenly, confidence in your tone, but not arrogance. You knew Dexter had done this dozens of times. But he also needed to remember he trained you extensively. 

You walked quickly and low to the ground as you went to a window and peeked in. You saw Jiminez and no one else. After a second, you snuck back over to the truck and turned on the radio, before going to hide against the wall again.

Your heart was racing, your hand was shaking slightly until you took a deep breath. 

Jiminez came out, you ran up behind him, injected the serum, and he passed out cold. You looked back at the van and held a thumbs up. Dexter jumped out of the van and Spencer following. 

Spencer’s instructions were clear: don’t get in the way.

You and Dexter had a system now and half the reason for this trip was to show him how you two worked together. You two grabbed all of the supplies from the back hatch. Spencer followed you and Dexter as you moved quickly in the cabin. Every inch was covered in plastic. You two moved around each other as if you were long time dance partners, every move choreographed, every move done with precision. 

Spencer stood and watched, objectively, trying not to let it sink in that you two were really about to kill someone. 

Next, you and Dexter carried Jiminez into the room, finished off the plastic, and got him strapped to the table after disrobing him. Not a word was spoken the entire time and Spencer couldn’t help but notice. Dexter didn’t have to tell you what was next, he didn’t have to instruct you on a single thing. This was as methodical as it could get. 

You got Dexter’s slides ready, along with his scalpel and dropper. Dexter busied himself with his clothing, getting all the gear in place. You and Spencer put on your face shields, to protect from blood spatter. 

“Y/N, do you have your knife?” Dexter asked. 

“Yes.”

“Go ahead and show me where you’d stop blood flow,” he evenly requested. 

It was becoming increasingly clear to Spencer as he watched you two that everything had a purpose, everything was clinical. There was no malice in it. It was only calculating. The entire time you three had been together today, there wasn’t any jokes, any goofing off. When you and Dexter interacted, it was educational. 

You put the knife over his chest, the tip barely cutting through the plastic. 

Dexter again, offered his hand, without warning, and wrapped his fingers around yours from the opposite side of the table. 

“Almost, just a hair up towards the chin and towards the left just a little,” he calmly explained. 

“Right,” you agreed, then pulled your blade away. 

“Wait, you’re not killing him?” Spencer asked. 

“No, this is Dexter’s kill. In light of who this man is, Dexter has elected to kill him the exact same way his mother was… with no mercy.”

As you finished your sentence, Jiminez began stirring. Dexter made his way to the head of the table. 

“Here we are again,” he said, picking up the surgical blade and slicing along his victim’s cheek. 

“What-- what the fuck?!” Jiminez gasped out. 

“I know. I keep asking myself that same question.” He absorbed the blood, and squirted it onto the readied slides provided by  you. 

“Let me out of here!” 

“But.. I’m finding it’s best to accept things you can’t change. Now is where I have a chat with you, so you know exactly why you’re here. I think you have a pretty good idea, and I certainly know why you’re here, but I have some company tonight that I’d like you to tell.”

He glanced at you and Spencer. Jiminez did the same. 

“Let me go. I got cocaine. You can have all of it.”

“It’s funny you should say that. I am off the wagon. But that was never my drug.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” he cried out angrily. 

“Hey,” you quietly commanded, hovering over Jiminez. “My friend told you to talk. Years ago. You committed a heinous crime in a shipping container, a young woman, two boys. I want you to admit it.” 

“Fuck you!” Jiminez spat. 

You slapped Jiminez hard, but swift. “Cut the sht. You’re strapped to our table, huh? You’re not getting out of this. The least you can do is maybe clear your conscience before you meet your maker. So confess. What was it you did all those years ago to a young mother in front of her kids?”

Jiminez stared at you, he looked like he was about to spit at you or shout more obscenities so you warned him. 

“If you spit at me, or say anything other than what happened, I’ll make you wish you never opened your mouth. Are we clear?” 

He nodded once. 

“Fucking hell! Fine! I cut her up. I chopped her to pieces. I killed that bitch because she was fucking a cop! Not my fault her fucking kids were there! It had to be done!” he cried out. “It wasn’t personal! It was business!”

“It was personal for him,” you said, pointing to Dexter. “You killed a young mother in front of two innocent little boys. They grew up to be killers, just like you. You took their lives away. All for some blow? I hope you rot.” You looked up to Dexter, giving him a nod to signal you were done. Then you took a step back next to Spencer. 

Spencer glanced between you and Jiminez. Finally, it was clear to him. This man had no redeeming qualities. Cat adams was a walk int he park compared to him. He finally truly understood what this whole thing was about, how you two worked. 

“I’m going to kill you tonight, Mr. Jiminez for what you did to my mother, and because well, this is what I do best.” 

At that, Dexter picked up the chainsaw at his feet, started it, and began cutting. You’d seen this before, but not on a live victim. Spencer hadn’t been exposed to this, making you still very unsure where his mind was at. 

The goriness was done, the body was cut, ready to be transported into a bag and then moved. Dexter began going through his wallet. 

“Is this usually part of the routine?” Spencer asked. 

“No, but I’m curious,” Dexter passively said. He dug into the wallet and found a note that had the address of the bowling alley and the time he went. “What the hell?” he mused.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, making your way over to him to read what was in his hand. “What--”

“I only went with you, but I also told my sponsor where I went that night. Lila. Fuck!” he cried out. 

“Lila? I told you to get away from her,” you reminded angrily. 

“I’ve been trying to. But this means that she called Jiminez and told him where I was going to be.” 

“But why?” 

He threw his head back in thought. “She probably wanted us to be close. The night I met Jiminez, we got into a fight. I was upset, broken, she and I shared a hotel room. Nothing happened except us talking all the way into the morning. I bet she thought if he attacked me again, I’d go running to her.” 

“That’s why you and Rita have been on and off lately, isn't it? She found out about you and Lila.” 

“That, and some other things.” 

You shook your head. “Dex...” Disappointment laced your tone. “I told you that chick was bad news.”

“I know, I fucked up, but--” 

His phone rang and he held up a finger before he answered it. It was Rita, she asked if he had used her key to the house. He told her to get out of the house and call the cops. He hung up the phone and quickly explained he needed to leave because he thought Lila might be at Rita's house. 

“I can drop you two off at your hotel, but I really need to go,” he said. 

“No, we’re going with you to Rita’s. If Lila is there, we need to help you.”

“Are you just going to leave this guy here?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the body, sounding alarmed. 

“Well I can’t take him with me. Use some of those IQ points, Agent Reid.” 

“It’s Dr. Reid,” he spat back, his face eerily calm so you quickly stepped between them. 

“Okay, calm down. Dexter, let’s just go back to the city. Jiminez isn’t the type to share a cabin full of cocaine with anyone.”

“Can you dispose of him?” he asked.

“With what? We don’t have your boat.” 

“Shit, you’re right. Okay. We’ll just have to deal with him later. I need to go to Rita’s.” 

With that, the three of you took what you needed and loaded into the van quickly. Dexter nearly broke the speed limit the whole way. You changed into your old clothes and stuffed the bloody ones in a bag and kept them in the van for Dexter to deal with. Spencer took off the cardigan he wore over, leaving him in a normal shirt. 

The three of you walked up to Rita’s place. She apologized for bothering you before asking why you two were there. 

“We were out for drinks,” you quickly lied easily. “Good to see you again Rita, just wish it were better circumstances.” 

With that, Dexter spoke to the police while you tried to console Rita. When he was done, he said he was going to see Lila. 

“Let me come. You don't need to face this psycho on your own.” 

“No, Y/N, I really do,” he responded, walking quickly. He turned and put his hands on your shoulders. “Thank you, for coming ot make sure Rita and the kids are alright both of you--” he shot a look to Spencer “--but I need to face her on my own. If i show up with you, it’ll just add fuel to the fire of this jealous inferno she has. I can handle it. I’ll drop you at your hotel and then I’m going to her place. I’ll be fine.” 

And so he did. He drove you to your hotel where you hugged him quickly, called him an idiot for not listening to you sooner, to which he smiled and agreed, then he left to face his psycho sponsor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[motleymoose]

Lukewarm Endearments at Best

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Gender Neutral!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester (mention) Words: 2800+ Warnings: Flangst

It had been a long time coming.

Dad had always been a traveler. When he was home, he was a novelty to me, a stranger who was familiar yet so dang mysterious that it surprised me every single time my name came to his lips. Like, even as a little kid I didn’t think he’d know me from Adam unless I was right next to Mama.. And it wasn’t like I really knew him, either. How can you know someone who’s been on the road, away from you, for most of your life? Heck, when Mama passed, I didn’t even see him for at least 18 months.

Of course, he sauntered back into my life as if nothing had happened in that intervening year and a half, like I hadn’t been forced to become a responsible adult right on the cusp of 17, shirking high school, colleges and relationships in order to keep myself from drowning in debt and despair. I was angry, and I said some things I’m not proud to repeat. And like the distant, abstract saint that my father has always been, he stood there, stoically taking the tongue lashing I had saved up for him. Through all of it, I could feel my own grief growing deeper. I had lost my mother, but I realized I never really had a father to begin with. John Winchester had been a wandering canvas that I could project my ideals of fatherhood onto, and I had always been too caught up in my own little world to recognize that he was just as human as me.

Apparently a little too human. As I let my anger burn low and my voice grow quiet, Dad looked straight into my red-rimmed eyes and said he was sorry for what he was about to say. I told him that I wasn’t going to apologize for anything that I just told him, and he shook his head sadly.

“Listen, Y/N/N,” he started, and I watched as his eyes became distant and misty. “I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of, and a huge part of it is how I’ve treated my family in the past.”

I snorted and began to speak, but he held up a hand to stop me. “Please, let me finish.”

“‘Kay,” I snapped.

He cleared his throat a little before continuing. “I’m not going to be around for much longer, and I want to know that, before I go, you are taken care of.”

“Oh, like you took care of me when Mama died? Thanks, but I‘m good.”

Dad flinched, his eyes darting guilty to his boots. “That couldn’t be help-”

My face grew hot. “‘Couldn’t be helped?’ Fucksake, Dad. You left us high and dry as soon as you heard the diagnosis!” I couldn’t be around him anymore, didn’t even want to be on the same planet I was so done with him. I forcefully concentrated on jamming my feet into my running shoes, fighting back the tears pressing behind my eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m going for a run, see yourself out.”

I slammed the door shut behind me, and that was the last time I ever saw my father.

-----

It wasn’t until last month that I’d read Dad had died. He’d been gone for over a decade. The obituary mentioned two surviving sons, but I was so caught up in probing the ancient scar of anger that my brain barely registered the fact. I found the old anger was weak from disuse, my coffee was cold, and I didn’t feel one damn thing either way about him. It was like reading the obits of a stranger. I felt no guilt, no anger, no grief, and I was able to quickly brush it off and carry on.

It didn’t hit me until a day later, in the middle of a crossword puzzle, that I had brothers.

After rereading Dad’s obituary, I decided to find these so-called brothers of mine. I guess I was lonely, and maybe some of the old anger was beginning to rekindle. I had a family of friends, those whom I could lean on when things got shitty, and I loved every one of them. But there was a kernel of curiosity planted in my brain, the urge to know who my brothers were and if they were anything at all like Dad… or me.

It wasn’t exactly simple to find my brothers but it wasn’t that difficult either; just like with me and Mama, Dad had set up his other family in a nice little neighborhood of a smaller city. White picket fence and everything. It didn’t last long, apparently. The house burned down with the wife still inside. But at least the kids got out alright and his precious car was saved. It was a deadend after that, no honor roll or sports write-ups mentioning a Sam or Dean Winchester could be found in any of my searches. Which was weird.

Weirder still was the FBI wanted list.

It wasn’t completely by accident that I stumbled upon Sam and Dean pouting lasciviously at the camera. Two photos, posted side by side in an archive buried under another archive stuck in a clunky footer menu. These files were hidden so deep in the government website that it took several days and one very long night to dig through all of the archived information. It was as if someone didn’t want anyone to find them. But there they were. No one could mistake the striking resemblance between me and the Winchester brothers. Same sharp nose, same alluring eyes, same crooked smile that must’ve broken at least a thousand hearts collectively. Obviously, I had better hair and fashion sense than either one of them, but that was all thanks to my mom.

Anyway, after the criminal reports came the death certificates. And after the death certificates and official police statements, I was at a loss for what to do. I knew in my gut that they were still out there, alive and raising Hell, but I couldn’t explain it nor find any evidence to disprove the official reports.

But after months and months of bum-diddly squat, a desperate hour of carnal need led me to something so fucking obvious, I wouldn’t have believed it if it has strolled up and bit me in the ass.

Dean Winchester was on Tinder.

Shrieking in surprise and triumph, I swiped right so fast that my finger would have left Grease Lightning in the dust. Yes, it was delightfully improper that I was pretending to not be related to him, but there wasn’t another option that came to mind to officially make his and Sam’s acquaintance. And I really wanted to compare notes on our father. And maybe punch one of them in the face. But I was beginning to get ahead of myself before I even got a response, my anxiety ratcheting my inner dialogue up to eleven.

<i>Aw hell,</i> I realized, this is a questionable and highly unorthodox way to meet your brothers in person. What if he swipes left? What if it’s not actually Dean but a catfish? It took a moment to scrub my mind of an actual catfish typing on a keyboard, but then I was back on track to berating myself. How could you think this plan was anything but sloppy at best? It’s almost inconceivable that-

bing!

The doubt dissipated as soon as I peeked at my phone.

Dean had swiped right!

Wait, Dean had swiped right. Which meant he was probably coming into this meeting with wildly different expectations than me. Dread trickled down my spine and into my already roiling stomach.

Thanks a lot, brain, I thought darkly, willfully ignoring the warnings flashing through my head. “No use in worrying about things that probably wouldn’t happen,” I growled. It was a quote that I often fell back on, but it never gave me any solace, probably because it was said by someone who had never had anxiety.

I shook the tension out of my hands before replying to his winky-kiss emoji. I bluntly suggested that we meet up at a tiny coffee shop not far from the main shopping district of a nearby town. If worse came to worst, at least I’d have a bunch of people at hand to witness my abduction.

***********************

A few hours and a double shot of whisky later, I was standing in line at the meeting place. I’d just given the barista my order when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

“Y/N?” Dean asked quietly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. He’d sidled up beside me while I had been making small talk with the barista, taking me slightly by surprise.

“You must be Dean, then!” I said, a little too brightly. Rein it in, Y/L/N, I chided myself. Readjusting my features, I gave him a pleasantly bland smile and gestured for him to order. After he was finished, he paid for both our drinks and took the lead to a table in a shadowy corner of the coffee shop. Plunking himself down in the booth, he gave a casual stretch and motioned for me to join him.

I pasted on another innocuous smile and took the seat opposite him. He shrugged off the slight and leaned forward, arms resting on the table. His entire body language was so overly nonchalant I was afraid he was going to fall asleep. “So tell me about yourself, Y/N,” his voice was soft and warm, his eyes twinkling suggestively.

Yep, big nope and a nuh-uh, that’s gotta stop. “Well, I’m a librarian by trade, I’m a cat person who also happens to be a Sagittarius, and,” I caught my breath, my brain hunting for something a little less blunt than ‘you’re my brother.’ “You're my brother.” The words fell out of my fucking mouth before I even had a chance to soften the blow. It took me months to find these guys, and my big mouth goes and forgets all forms of subtlety. The anger and frustration at Dad had built up so much inside me that I was having a hard time controlling my feelings, and now I could add embarrassment to the pile. And I never not have control over my feelings. Sometimes.

Dean sat back, stunned. He started to speak, fumbled over several words, and then shut his mouth. I waited patiently while his brain processed the information. It took a few minutes for him to break the silence. “I gotta make a phone call.” Dean stood up from the booth, shaking his head in disbelief, and stepped away from the table as he tapped something into his phone.

“No worries, I’ll be here when you get back.” I waved to him, all innocence and sweetness. He glanced back at me with furrowed brows and stomped off, whispering aggressively into his phone.

“That went better than expected,” I muttered to myself as I happily accepted our coffees from a rather bemused waiter.

***********************

Half an hour later, Dean returned. He didn’t look at all surprised that I had drank his coffee for him, only a little hurt. I would have pointed out that I’d saved him the trouble of finding it lukewarm and bitter, but the tension in the air was so thick around him that I thought better of it. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of Sam, the younger brother, ducking through the door and giving the baristas a friendly wave.

“Ooh, are we having a family reunion?” I sniped, feeling annoyed that I hadn’t even had a conversation with Dean yet and he was already calling in for backup. “You’ll have to excuse me for my earlier remarks, but I don’t like to beat around the bush.”

He quirked an eyebrow at Sam and frowned. The taller one rolled his eyes and took the chair beside me. Dean slid back into the booth. I was surrounded, but that didn’t matter. What mattered most was confirmation. And I wasn’t going to get that by just staring at them. I opened my mouth to speak, but Sam beat me to it.

“This is… quite the claim, Y/N,” he started, kindly. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to process having another sibling. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that it isn’t possible-”

Dean butted in, gruffly. “What my brother is getting at is that this isn’t exactly our first rodeo.”

Sam looked at him in worn exasperation, but shook off the comment. “Like I was saying, it isn’t impossible that you could be a long lost sibling, but… do you have any proof?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the few pictures I had of Dad and me, plus photos of him and Mama I had shot when they weren’t paying attention. A knot was forming in my throat, but I forced it back down with a sip of ice water.

Sam and Dean each took a few of the photos, riffling through them like they weren’t my only link to a man that I barely knew. Dean stopped at one and nudged Sam. It was the one of me and my mom standing in front of Dad’s black muscle car, big grins pasted on our faces and dripping snow cones melting in our hands. I was 13 and still enamored with the idea of having a traveling father, too self-centered and self-conscious to think about the reason why he wasn’t around like all the other dads. The bittersweet memories of disappointment and otherness began to creep into my brain, sewing the chaos of sadness in their wake.

Taking a gulp of the ice water, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand to cover the frown pulling at the corners of my mouth. “That’s at the county fair. It was one of the longest times I’d remember ever being around him,” I said with a not-so-subtle tinge of bitterness in my voice. “He wasn’t exactly the type to come to the all-school play, or even stick around for more than a weekend.”

The brothers exchanged a look again. I was starting to get annoyed with that look; it was a secret language between siblings that I had never gotten the chance to experience because my father had kept us secret from one another. He had known that we all existed, had even <i>lived</i> with his two families at different times, apparently. I had never thought of Dad as selfish before, but the more I thought about it, the more I could see that he was just as much of a bastard as I had believed since reaching adulthood. The angry part of me was beginning to confuse the more rational side of my brain, and I needed to get the answers I sought before my inner voices started a war inside my head.

While I sat there fighting with my inner, angrier self, Sam and Dean had been in quiet conversation, heads bent close over the picture. Dean flipped it over to the other side, and frowned at my mom’s scrawled writing on the back. “This says it was taken in the summer of ‘94, which means you’re…” he stopped, forehead scrunched as he concentrated on his fingers.

“I’m about to turn 39, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out,” I replied, my knees bouncing from the stress and anxiety ravaging my nervous system.

Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “That can’t be right. Sammy? Right?” I could tell he was floored by the math. If I was 38, that meant I was born between their birthdays. And if that was the case, Dad had a lot more to answer for than just being crappy at his parental role.

Sorting through the photos again, Sam didn’t respond right away. He was lining them up in chronological order, studiously checking every detail.

“Sam!” Dean said sharply, nudging his brother’s elbow.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Sam’s eyes refocused on my face, but I could tell he wasn’t really seeing me. The evidence of my existence was plain on my features, and they would have to be fools to not see my resemblance to our father.

After a while, I began to get fidgety again. “Listen, guys,” I said as I stood up and gathered my things. “It’s been a real pleasure, but it’s getting late. Besides,” pausing, I looked both of them square in the eyes, “I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss.”

Turning, I threaded my way to the exit and made it just outside the door when Dean caught up to me.

“Y/N, wait.” He tapped my shoulder again, and I pivoted to meet his gaze. “If what you say is true, and you are in fact family. Well,” he glanced back at Sam who was coming out behind him. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

[maggiemaybe160]

Hate Isn’t the Opposite of Love

Fic based on @nox-lee‘s poem 10 Things I Hate About Castiel, A Poem by Dean Winchester

“Personal space, Cas,” Dean says without looking up. The sound of wings beating against the air is louder than everything else. It lights Dean’s nerve endings on fire, sets his heart racing, and makes him want to reach for the angel responsible. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says behind him. Dean dries his face he’s just finished washing and looks up into the mirror at the source of everything. 

“You know I hate that.” Dean clenches his jaw, swallowing hard as he turns around and notices just how close they’re standing. “I hate the way you stand so close.”

“Sorry,” Cas mutters, taking a small step back. Dean wants to stop him and pull him back to being too close. He desperately wants to, but he doesn’t. He never does and at this rate, he never will. 

“I hate how small this room is.” It’s stuffy and suffocating. There’s too much room, but also too little. Dean runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath as he steps around Cas. Their shoulders brush and electricity shocks him. “I hate everything.” 

“Are you feeling alright, Dean?” 

“No! I hate the way you wear your hair!” It used to stick out in every direction. He used to wear it like a wild thing. Now he combs it. He’s tamed it. Dean wants to reach into the thick, dark hair and pull it gently. He wants to feel the soft hair between his fingers as he restores the crazed style that he’d worn when they met. 

“I hate the way you stole my damn car.” Dean goes to his bed and remakes it even though it was already up to military standards. “I hate that you tried to give the mixtape back.” Dean turns around to face Cas. He wonders why his gaze is magnetic. He is locked in place every time he finds Cas’ eyes across a room or just a few inches apart. 

“I hate it when you stare.” 

Cas immediately looks down.

Dean walks back to him and lifts his chin gently, silently hating the searing touch. He wants more and can never have it. 

“I didn’t steal your car. Kelly did. I was going to wait for you. I never wanted to betray you, Dean.” His voice is soft and rough at the same time. It twists Dean’s stomach into knots. “I did though. I’m sorry.”

“I hate your big, dumb trenchcoat,” Dean says, his voice cracking under Cas’ apology. He straightens Cas’ lapel when it doesn’t need it. 

“Dean.” Cas catches his hand and holds it tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

“I hate the way you read my mind.” Dean squeezes Cas’ hand. “I hate you so much, Cas. I hate you so much for the way I feel and how you’re so kind.” His hand is on fire, but he can’t let go. 

Dean takes in a shaky breath. He doesn’t know why he’s still talking. He can’t make it stop. “I hate the way I made you fall,” he says quietly. Cas shakes his head, pushing Dean’s self-blame away. 

“Dean, please,” Cas begs. “Stop it.”

“I- I hate it when you die,” Dean chokes. He holds his hand back from cupping Cas’ face. “Every time it happens, it’s like the world is ending. I was ready for it to end last time, Cas. I’ve never felt like that before. I’ve lost so much, but losing you is too much.” 

Cas opens his mouth in silent shock as Dean feels his first tear fall. He doesn’t bother wiping it away, his hands occupied with holding onto Cas. 

“I hate you so much,” Dean shakes his head, “for giving up an army, your family, Heaven, just for one fucked up guy.”  

“I’ll always choose you, Dean. You’re my family. Not them. This is my home. Not Heaven. You’ve proven that to me. Please, Dean, tell me what’s really wrong,” Cas pleads, releasing Dean’s hands to pull him into a tight hug. Dean’s arms circle around him, holding onto him like the lifeline he has been and always will be. 

“I hate it when you’re not around and when you don’t call,” Dean says into Cas’ shoulder. His hands tighten, balling the trenchcoat into his fists. “But what’s really wrong, Cas,” Dean chokes, “is that I hate the way that I don’t hate you. Not even close. Not even a little bit.” Dean feels himself sinking. Quite literally he’s sinking to the floor and Cas is coming with. They crumple to the floor, Cas holding onto Dean, comfort in his arms. 

“Not even at all,” Dean admits, crying. 

“I love you, Dean,” Cas says, pressing his cheek to the top of Dean’s head. “I love that when I stand too close, your jaw tightens and your cheeks turn pink.”

Dean freezes, his head still against Cas’ chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. 

“I love the way you wear your hair. The way you style it up and pretend you don’t use products even though there’s an entire drawer just for you. The way it sticks up in the morning and you look like a sleepy hedgehog while you drink your coffee. The way it looks right now after you’ve messed it up in a fit, running your hands through it and pulling at it.” 

Dean wipes away his tears but remains where he is, curled against Cas. 

“I love that mixtape you gave me. I play it every night while you and Sam sleep. I sit in the Impala in the garage and listen to the entire thing for as long as I can get away with. 

“I love how much you tease me about my car. Your mean nicknames for it. You even tried covering up how much you hate it just because I was sick. I won’t pretend to understand your taste in cars, but it feels good to be joked with.

“Look at me,” Cas says softly. Dean does, tilting his head while keeping it firmly against Cas’ chest. Their eyes lock and Dean’s heart leaps. “I love when you stare because it feels like my heart is exploding and my mind is expanding. It feels like how I imagine stars feel when they burst.” 

Dean’s breath catches. He can’t move. He can’t speak. 

“I love to hate your stupid flannels. No one can wear one of those and look good. No one but you.” Cas looks away, breaking the contact before pulling Dean closer, his hand running down Dean’s arm. 

“I love the way you read my mind, when you finish my thoughts, and start my sentences. You know me better than I know myself sometimes. You know what I’m capable of, even when everyone else tells me I can’t. 

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester, for the way I feel. Angels aren’t allowed to feel. I never thought I would experience any emotion. Not happiness, certainly not elation. I didn’t think I would ever feel love, but I do and it’s all thanks to you.”

Cas stops for a moment. He takes a deep breath and Dean can hear his heart beat a tiny bit faster. His next breath is broken. 

“I hate it when you die.” His arms tighten around Dean. “I watched you get dragged to Hell. I fixed it when I was allowed. It got harder after that. I didn’t know that meeting you would make everything so much better, and your deaths so much worse to bear. When Metatron killed you, when you became a demon… It hurt so badly, I could hardly breathe. I didn’t want to keep going. I thought that I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean whispers. Cas hugs him tighter for a moment. Dean’s entire world is limited to Cas and his enveloping presence. 

“I love choosing you over the angels. It’s an easy decision to make when they mark it clearly to choose between Dean Winchester and all of Heaven. Heaven who watched as you were tortured in Hell until it was too late. Heaven who exiles me like a child on time out. Heaven who tortured and brainwashed me. All of that against the man who calls me a friend, an ally, family. A man with eyes that look like grass in the Springtime and has a laugh that brightens the world. A man who puts everyone else before himself because he’s the man who saves people and hunts things. I think, no matter how ‘fucked up’ a guy he is, he’s a great one.”

Cas finds one of Dean’s hands and slowly laces his fingers with Dean’s. 

“I love when I show up after being gone for a while and you already know that it’s me, your eyes finding mine in the rearview mirror. I love when I show up and you jump. I love when I’ve been gone for a while and when I come back, I can tell that I’ve been missed. 

“I love when you pray to me instead of calling my cellphone. I remember a time before you prayed. I remember the first night you prayed and it was the loudest, clearest voice I had ever heard. It still is. When you pray, it might as well be my own thoughts. I also love when you call my phone because you set a new ringtone for yourself every time you get a chance. No one else has been pretending to be an FBI agent when their phone starts playing the Batman theme song.

“But, Dean,” Cas pulls away enough to look at Dean. His eyes shine and his voice is soft as he whispers, “I love the way that I’m entirely in love with you. Just a little bit, or maybe a lot. Head over heels, completely in love.” 

Dean finally reaches forward to cup his jaw and lean in, pressing his lips to Cas’. Cas kisses back immediately, a gentle kiss making promises and starting something new. 

@ain-t-bovvered @soloarcana @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @kingofmyimagination @fandom-is-my-middle-name @samatedeansbroccoli @anarchiana @lils2024 @destiel-honeypie @spn-bitchh @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @skittles-rainbow-cat @k-lewis @destielhoneybee @castibella-shipper-of-the-lord @aestheticallydyke @righteouscomeuppancejogstheliver @deanwinchesterswitch @adventurous-blob @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @royalrowena @telefunkies @blueeyesandpie @jemariel

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter promts: 100 with ot4!! (mayb 2 double beds so they have room yknow)

I went with fluff rather than smut with this one, so there are references to sex but the fic is SFW. For context, Stern in this universe has a lot of anxiety around belonging somewhere.

100 from this list: The b&b we’re at asked if we wouldn’t mind sharing a room since we know each other and this snow storm has brought in some unexpected guests...one bed...three nights...

“I’m so sorry, sir.” The harried looking young woman behind the desk looks between Stern and Barclay, “between the blizzard and it already being New Years weekend, we’ve had to take in a few more people than expected.”

“So our room’s been given to someone else?” Stern puts on his professional demeanor, the one he uses to soothe tourists who’ve definitely seen something they shouldn’t

“Yes, unfortunately. The, the only room we have left is the cottage in the back. It sleeps four, but we can’t guarantee you wouldn’t have to share with another couple.”

“Uh, ‘scuse me, miss, but I think we can make that work.” Duck Newton steps around Barclay, Indrid busy looking over the many brochures on the far wall, “you see, my friend and I’d more than willing to bunk with these two, since they’re friends from back home. Assumin that’s alright with them?”

“Of course.” Stern smiles.

“Oh, thank you, thank you all for being so accommodating. And I’m sorry again about the inconvenience.”

---------------------------

“Well, that went better than expected.” Stern sets down his duffel bag on one of the two beds. 

“You’re tellin me, this is way easier than bookin the two next to each other and sneakin back and forth.”

“Yeah, had my fill of sneaking around.” Barclay adds, evaluating the small kitchen. 

“I mean, unless one of the other guests took a rather blurry photo of you, it’d be better than your previous attempts to ‘sneak’” Indrid is finally down unwrapping himself down to his sweatpants and the pink and yellow sweater Duck bought him. 

“You’re on to talk stealth, mr. my-pants-say-mothman-on-the-ass.” Barclay grabs said ass, making Indrid squeak.

“I am wearing them ironically.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

Duck, meanwhile, flops down on the bed where Stern is unpacking.

“Jesus, darlin, how many books did you bring?”

“Three. When Indrid said there’d likely be a blizzard, I assumed that would cut down on our outdoor activities. And cable is so atrocious these days.”

“So…” Duck tugs the front of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss, “you really can’t think of another thing we’d be doin to stay out of the cold?”

“Duck, we can’t do that for three days straight.”

“You sayin you opposed to tryin?”

“I’m saying” Stern puts away the last of his clothing, “that I am a mortal man, and three days of non-stop fucking would probably kill me.”

“Hey, we’d stop some. Gotta eat, and sleep too. Probably throw in a few showers. Unless what does it for you is the smell of a bunch of sweaty dudes.”

Stern wrinkles his nose, and Duck laughs. 

“Oooh!” Indrid steps into the room, clapping his hands excitedly, “I’m going to take a bath.” He swings the bathroom door open, revealing a tub. It occurs to Stern, as the skinnier man strips down without delay, that none of them even bothered asking how Indrid knew the tub was there. 

Stern never thought he’d be around them long enough to get used to his boyfriend always being a bit ahead of him. 

He heads back into the main room of the cottage, finds Barclay unloading groceries. 

“Glad we stocked up before we left. Think trying to get the car down to that grocery store we passed would be impossible. I have had enough car-based hijinks for one lifetime, don’t need to add doing Icecapades in a Jeep to the list.”

“Car based hijinks?’

“Long story.” Barclay turns, offering his hand, “c’mon, agent, haven’t gotten to hold you nearly enough today.” The larger man stretches out on the couch, Stern laying so he’s cuddled against his chest.

A chirp-moan splashes out of the bathroom. 

“Guess Indrid’s got company.” Barclay chuckles. Another chirp, this one more of a trill, and Barclays legs shift as if he’s hiding something. Stern has a good guess as to what.

“Feeling the need to join them? I know you get wound up when Indrid makes sounds like that.” He traces a finger along the blue lines of Barclays plaid shirt. 

“Nah, not right now. Right now, kinda enjoying being all warm and cozy with the best thing to ever come out of the FBI in my arms.”

Stern snorts, kisses his chest. Let’s his mind wander like a cat searching for a sunny spot as intermittent moans continue reaching them. 

“Wait…there was a report from the 90s that I always thought was absurd. Something about Bigfoot stealing someone’s car. But the location, the timeline…”

“Uhhhh.”

“Oh my LORD, why would you steal a car?”

“Things got out of hand! Quickly.” Barclay regales him with the story, Stern doing his best to look affronted at the reckless behavior but tipping quickly into pure amusement. 

Barclay eventually coaxes Stern off of him so he can go ask the kitchen in the main B&B if they have cumin. Stern wanders into the bedroom and finds a now mothed-out Indrid falling asleep with Duck in his arms. The Sylph lifts the wing resting atop the human, an offer for Stern to join them. He does, looping his arms around Duck as the wing gently returns to its role as blanket. 

“You know” Indrid murmurs, “one of these days I ought to make you all moth disguises, just so I can see what all the fuss is about.”

“That could be a fascinating exercise.” Stern whispers.

“Hell yeah.” Duck wiggles in Sterns embrace “Mothman cuddles.”

--------------------------------------------------

Stern wakes up alone, though someone has thoughtfully draped a blanket over him. As he rouses, voices drift in from the living room. 

“Do you think he knows?”

“Judging by the futures, no.”

“Please tell me we’re tellin him soon. If I end up havin to try to lie about this it’s gonna go bad.”

Hmmmm, that is not the kind of conversation one wants to overhear their boyfriends having in hushed tones. 

He yawns exaggeratedly, assuming that will bring a hush over the trio. 

Instead, it brings a certain ranger right on top of him. Duck kisses him, smiling as he does, and all Sterns worries evaporate. 

“Perfect timin’, darlin, dinner’s almost ready.” 

“I’d love to join you all, but it appears I’m being attacked by a bear.” He smirks. Duck growls playfully, bending down to drag a rough kiss up his neck. Stern retaliates by placing a hickey on the first exposed patch of skin he sees. 

“You two are welcome to continue in that direction, but be warned I will eat any cheesecake not claimed in the next five minutes.”

“Indrid, that’s for dessert!”

“I reject such arbitrary notions of EEEEEEEP”

“Come on” Stern sits up, Duck coming with him, “let’s go make sure Indrids glasses don’t come off from Barclay throwing him over his shoulder. Again.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“The methodology in this show is truly abhorrent.” Stern rests his head on Ducks belly, the two watching one of the dozen ghost hunting shows airing on the Discovery Channel.

“No kiddin’. Also, these fellas startle so easy they’re doin a better job scarin themselves than any ghost could.”

Duck strokes his hair and he sighs, nuzzles at the slip of skin that’s showing between his boxers and white t-shirt. The boxers only went back on about ten minutes prior, as Stern had been seized with a desperate need to unhurriedly and lovingly suck his boyfriend off, fingers teasing and squeezing the thighs he so adores. 

The front door creaks open and whines closed, Barclay and Indrid walking in arm in arm. 

“Did you have a nice walk?”

“Indeed.” Indrid’s face is school-girl shy. 

“You’re blushin, ‘Drid.” Duck teases, before sitting up so animatedly that Sterns rolls to land facedown in his lap with an “oof.” 

“Holy shit, Barclay, did you work some kind of magic shit to make him willin’ to have sex in the snow? Because that’s fuckin impressive.”

“No, I am merely feeling a bit nostalgic.” Indrid unzips the first of his three outer layers. 

“The first time Indrid and I met was in the middle of a really, really bad winter.” Barclay sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing Sterns legs gently as he talks, “Uh, is it gonna weird either of you out to hear this?”

“No.” Stern reaches out to squeeze Barclays hand once, before returning it to rest comfortable on Ducks knee. 

“Nope. Gotta admit, been kinda curious about it ever since you first mentioned y’all had fucked around when you were younger.”

“Well, long story short, I was in a trailer park, renting a little spot while I tried to sort shit out. One night, I kept hearing noises I recognized as being from another Sylph. And whoever was making them sounded real upset. So I trudged out in my pajamas and followed the noise to this other trailer. Poked my head in and there was Indrid, looking sad as could be. And, y’know, like a giant fucking moth.”

“I was busy feeling sorry for myself and was therefore not watching the futures. It was startling to suddenly have a human in my space. At least until you took off you, hmmm, what was it then?”

“I think it was a ring. Anyway, once we were on the same page, Indrid just kind of started, uh-”

“You can say babbling. It’s an accurate portrayal. I was lonely, I’d been having a run of bad visions, and I’d found myself more homesick than made sense.”

“Aw, ‘Drid.” Duck opens his arm and the Sylph slips under it, Barclay scooching closer as well.

“I was also, shall we say, dealing with an unexpected spike in my arousal levels, almost like a heat. So I was craving touch and connection. I must have been a sight.”

“Yeah” Barclay rumbles, “a real cute one. Little moth.”

Indrid chirrs bashfully, pressing his face into the crook of Ducks neck.

“Anyway, ended up spending the next few days together. Bumped into each other a few times after that, but nothing could ever top finding him that first night.” Barclay smiles at his fellow Sylph, who continues making charming chirrs. After a moment, Indrid lifts his glasses, smiling at the trio. It starts off sweet, moves to wicked as he finishes his question.

“As I sense that’s brought a, ah, romantic air to the evening; would anyone care to help me push the beds together?”

------------------------------------------

Stern is about to be broken up with. He can tell. 

That morning he’d awoken with Indrid still snuggled up around him, purring softly, but when he stepped into the kitchen he’s certain Duck and Barclay had switched to an innocent topic at normal volume, rather than the whispers they’d been making before. 

Later, as they’re lounging about by the little bot-bellied stove, reading (or, in Indrid’s case, drawing), he noticed the pale-haired man taking care to not let him see certain pages. 

But truly, the most damning fact is that Stern has never had a relationship last more than a year, no matter how well it seemed to be going. And no matter how much logic he applies to the situation (Duck murmuring filthy suggestions for that night into his ear, Barclay kissing him any time he walked past, Indrid pulling him into the bedroom for a vigorous bout of sex), he cant stop thinking that the end has come. Patterns are patterns, and while he knows that’s a tautology, he can’t help feeling it offers some unshakeable truth.

It’s the early evening when Barclay, coming up behind him for a hug, says, “Damn, babe, your back is all knotted up.”

“It must be from the cold.” He replies, sighing when Barclay nuzzles his cheek.

“If you need to shake the chill, I found that bath yesterday quite helpful.” Indrid lilts.

And so Stern draws himself a bath and settles in with the “champagne” scented bubble bath provided by their hosts. How very seasonal.

Maybe they won’t do it until after the all return to the lodge. That makes the most sense, as it won’t ruin anybody’s trip. If that’s the case, maybe he ought to savor this last little bit of bliss. 

He does feel a little better after the bath, though he’s now covered in a faintly sugary smell that’s far better suited to Indrid than him. He pulls on one of the fluffy robes, heads into the main room to see if dinner is ready.

“SURPRISE!”

“JESUS!” He jumps, unprepared for the sight of his boyfriends standing around the table, at the center of which sits a cake and...are those fondue pots?

Hanging on the table is a banner, obviously handmade, that reads, “Happy Anniversary.”

“Anniversary?” He looks at the others, perplexed. 

“Little delayed, on account of we thought it’d be more fun to wait and do it now. And, uh, you had to fly back to D.C the actual week.” Duck says, stifling the giggles he got from Sterns surprised outburst, “but it’s the one year anniversary of when you turned up in Kepler. Kinda. And we wanted to celebrate you comin into our lives, even if it scared the livin hell out of us--you okay, city mouse?” Duck’s face falling is the last thing Stern sees before his head collapses into his hands, his built up dread pushing out of his body in shuddery gasps. 

Barclay’s arms are around him in an instant, “Hey, babe, hey, it’s alright. We’re so fucking glad you turned up.”

“It’s, it’s not that.”

“Oh dear.” 

He glances over Barclay’s shoulder, sees Indrid coming out of a peek at the futures.

“Oh pet, did you really think all the secrecy was because we were going to leave you?”

“Wait, what?” Ducks glances at Indrid, who nods, “Joe, we’re crazy about you. Hell, Barclay was flirtin with you even when he thought you might put him in area 51 or some shit.”

“I, I know. It, it seems silly in retrospect but unfortunately my track record is a bit bleak. I once had a date I’d been seeing casually for six months sneak out the bathroom window while we were out to dinner. Never heard from him again. Another called me up the day after I got accepted into the UP and said we could never see each other again. We’d been fine two days before.”

“Yeeesh” Barclay kisses his forehead, “can see why you got jumpy.”

“Even so, I’m afraid I let my anxiety drive more than I should have. I’m sorry”

“Unnecessary apology accepted.” Indrid teases, pulling out a chair, “come, Barclay’s been having to beat me off with a stick the entire time he was making that red velvet cake and my patience is waning.”

“You didn’t mind the spatula to the ass.”

Indrid chirps, mock affronted, and Duck snickers, settling across from Indrid as Stern and Barclay take their seats. 

“Only you could manage fondue in a rental cottage.” Stern smiles fondly at the cook. 

“I’ve got like, a dozen fondue sets. Jake keeps giving them to me at the holidays. I’m not sure if it’s a joke, or if he just forgets he’s gotten me that before. This year he put Hollis’s name on it too.”

“That...explains the color palette.” Stern grabs one of the black skewers from the yellow pot. To his side he sees Indrid set his hand out on the table, Duck’s coming to rest in it automatically, as if the two were made for each other. 

“Hold up” Duck uses his free hand to lift his glass, “wanna make a toast. Here’s to makin it through the end of the world, to findin each other even if the mess of monster-huntin that was our lives and” he grins at Stern, “here’s to the fact no one could lie well enough to keep you from stayin at the lodge.”

Stern raises his glass and clinks it with the others, smiling back as he murmurs, “cheers.”

[deanthebipieguy]

The Dentist Dilemma

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Category: Romance, Comedy, Smut

Warnings: 18+ Only! Oral Fixation Kink, Oral Sex

“I don’t like going to the dentist.”

It was a common statement; one many others have stated before. If it wasn’t for the fact of your flushed cheeks and the way you chewed your bottom lip, Sam wouldn’t have pressed the matter more. But he had to. Call it curiosity or call it over-analyzation due to his feelings for you, but truth be told, it was the combined effect of both that had him pushing the matter.

“Why?” Sam asked, his eyes squinted slightly at your peculiar reaction to the statement.

Before you could answer the question, however, the sound of Dean laughing filled the bunker.

“Who actually enjoys going to the dentist?” Dean put his feet up on the table and took a swig of his beer and for once you were grateful for Deans’ loud interruptions.

But Sam being Sam- a proper Winchester- would not let the subject drop; this was an investigation now and Sam always gathered the information he needed.

“I know most people don’t enjoy going to the dentist, Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes, “but I don’t understand why Y/N is so against it.”

You looked down at the floor, hoping neither brother saw the red tinge to your cheeks and ears, “It’s not that I’m against it. It’s just an… uncomfortable feeling for me.”

“Why?” That question again.

In a defensive mechanism, your hands balled up into fists and your eyebrows creased together into a glare, “Why do you care, Sam? I just don’t like dentists, okay? This is such a stupid conversation.”

“Woah, calm down, Y/N.” Deans’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. With your attention diverted to the older brother, you did not notice the way Sam recoiled slightly from your tone.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Regret washed over you quickly and you made a beeline for your room before either brother could say anything else about your outburst.

Shutting the door to your room behind you, you flopped onto your bed, grabbing a pillow to tuck beneath your chin as you stared at your headboard. Embarrassment wound it’s way up your spine and you buried your face in your pillow. How could you lash out over something so stupid? A better question is why the hell wouldn’t Sam let the subject drop? If it was Dean you could have told him the truth and laughed it off, but Sam…

You’ve had feelings for the guy ever since you started hunting with the boys. You were always more of researcher than anything and collecting information for the hunts was how you did your part. This meant working alongside Sam a lot which eventually sparked and then flamed your attraction to him. Besides digging up lore and questioning witnesses under an FBI ruse, you also helped take care of the bunker when you three were there and not traveling from motel to motel. You even cooked home-made meals for them on occasion.

The way you fit in easily with the brothers and the way your presence brought a sense of home to them meant you quickly found your place as a member of the hunter family. And that was why you felt even worse about your romantic feelings for Sam. You loved Sam differently from the rest.

And now you had just yelled at him. Why? Because you have an extreme type of oral fixation.

Call it a kink, fetish, whatever. But to be completely honest: you aren’t sure what it is yourself. You just know that your mouth is a weak point for you thus explaining why it’s so damn awkward whenever you went to the dentist. Also why you didn’t exactly want to have to explain to Sam that you have a slightly strange kink that makes having your teeth and mouth examined arousing.

A knock on your door interrupted your embarrassing thoughts and you turned to lay on your side before calling out a “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” a deep voice that you knew by heart called from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?”

Nervousness swept beneath your skin from your toes to your head before settling anxiously in the pit of your stomach, “Y-yeah, that’s fine.” Quickly sitting up, you smoothed out your clothes before setting your pillow over your lap.

His large frame stepped through the doorway and he gave you an unsure smile before settling himself next to you on the bed. Even sitting down, he towered over you. “I wanted to talk… I’m sorry about earlier. I was too curious and  I pushed you too much.”

“It’s alright,” you laughed awkwardly, “And haven’t you ever heard of the saying ‘Curiosity killed the cat’?”

Sam let out a deep chuckle and your chest ached wonderfully at the sound. Tension left Sam’s body and his wide shoulders visibly relaxed, “I have. I guess I’m too curious at times; Dean says I’m a know it all, but I think it’s just who I am.”

He ran a hand through his long hair and you smiled up at him, “It’s okay, really. I shouldn’t have snapped at you so bad.”

His brows furrowed, “Why did you get so defensive? Do you have bad memories from dental visits in the past?” He nudged your shoulder playfully and you laughed warmly.

“No, not exactly,” blood made its way up your neck and into your cheeks, “It’s kind of embarrassing honestly.”

The sight of you blushing and the way your voice got just the tiniest bit higher as you looked at your feet had Sam’s mind spinning. Why were you so flustered? What was so embarrassing? Why did you look so gorgeous right now?

“Can you tell me why?” Sam spoke quietly and slowly, not wanting to upset you again like the first time.

“You… you may find it weird.” Nerves on fire, you wrung your hands in your lap and leaned forward slightly, almosting trying to curl into yourself due to self consciousness.

“Y/N… I’m a hunter. I’ve dealt with every type of weird in every type of way.” He leaned forward and paused until you looked him in the eyes and then gave you a reassuring smile. “Nothing about you could ever weird me out.”

Calmness and a warmth only Sam could stir up from inside you spread across your skin and you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.

“I guess it’s like…” you took a quick breath to regain your bravery but couldn’t prevent the heat rising to the tips of your ears, “I guess it’s like a kink of some sort… It’s called an ‘oral fixation’, I think. But it means that I get really… turned on when my mouth is messed with.”

The silence seemed unending and you refused to look up at Sam, fear that you just humiliated yourself or worse: ruined a perfectly good friendship had you chewing your bottom lip anxiously.

“Oh,” that was all he said for a couple seconds and then another, “Oh,” before Sam shrugged off the surprise and fell into the need to reassure you. “It’s not that weird, Y/N. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of that before actually… But I understand why you don’t like the dentist now,” he laughed openly and you released the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding at the sound.

“You don’t think it’s strange or gross?” Your voice came out small and weak and you hated it.

“No, of course not. It’s kind of hot actually.”

And that was it. The statement that shifted everything into a new territory. Your head shot up as you looked into Sam’s eyes to see if he was joking with you. But Sam’s hazel eyes were darker with lust and silently searching your face for any sign that he crossed a line- any sign that these feelings tumbling inside him weren’t one-sided.

And when you bit your lip and shyly looked down at his own mouth, he had his answer.

Sam leaned in quickly to kiss you. It was only a quick brush at first until you scooted closer to him on the bed, desperate for more and he gave it to you by continuing the kiss. His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you quickly spread your lips, allowing him to explore your mouth.

And explore he did. Sam took his time with you after finding out about your little secret; he would bite your bottom lip, run his tongue over your teeth and across your own tongue, anything and everything to pull those small moans out of you.

Finally breaking the kiss for air, Sam gave you barely any time to recover before his large thumb was pushing past your panting lips and sliding smoothly over your tongue. His skin was hot and tasted slightly salty as you wrapped your lips around the digit and sucked. Next, his pointer finger rested on your bottom lip and he watched almost hypnotized as you opened your mouth to let the second digit slip in too.

Your eyes were heavy-lidded and watery as you looked up at Sam, his thumb and finger sweeping through your mouth slowly. When he twisted his wrist and brushed the pad of his finger against the roof of your mouth, you let out a noise that was between a moan and a whimper and had Sam groaning. The way you keened and whined with the intrusion and the way you desperately rubbed your thighs together to try and relieve your arousal had Sam completely hard and aching in his jeans.

Pulling his hand away from you, Sam leaned in to leave soft kisses down your neck as you sucked in greedy breaths, your chest rising and falling rapidly with your arousal.

“Are you okay?” Hot breath splayed across your collarbone and you shivered before nodding in answer.

“Words, baby,” Sam’s teeth scraped against your jaw and your breath caught in your throat before you exhaled, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

Humming in approval, Sam went in for another long-winded kiss that had your head spinning. “What do you want, Y/N?” He whispered the question against your lips and you pulled back before kissing a trail down Sam’s neck that had him sighing and entangling his fingers in your hair.

“I want…” Your voice failed you. You’ve said these words a thousand times in your dreams, but now- caught up in the real moment- they almost felt too much.

“Tell me, Y/N. It’s okay.” His long fingers massaged your scalp in an act to comfort you and you felt grateful for the action.

“I want to suck your cock, Sam.” You met his eyes despite the deep blush traveling across your skin and Sam let out a low noise as he silently guided you to kneel between his spread knees. Thankfully, the mattress wasn’t too tall so you were able to reach despite Sam’s tall stature.

Hands shaking slightly, you unzipped the worn jeans and moved the black boxers out of your way to uncover Sam’s aching erection; he was hard and throbbing in your hand- his tip leaking precum down his shaft. You licked your lips at the sight and used the wetness to slicken the glide of your wrist.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Sam’s pupils were blown, his hair messy and falling around his face as he leaned forward to look down at you and you had never been more sure of anything.

“Yes, Sam. I want this.” Searching your eyes, Sam found nothing but determination, need and lust. He smiled and leaned forward to give you a quick kiss.

“Okay, baby.” Slowly, Sam thread his long fingers through your hair, his hand cradling your head as he gently urged you towards his leaking cock.

Llicking the precum from the flushed tip, you moaned and grabbed Sam’s knees to lift yourself up higher so you could sink your lips  down his length. You began a slow pace- only taking a couple inches while your hand stroked what you couldn’t yet reach. As your mouth relaxed to the intrusion and you found a good rhythm, you sank lower and lower on Sam’s cock- taking more and more of him in.

Because of your oral fixation- which Sam quite enjoys now, by the way- you moaned around him as his flesh stroked your tongue and mouth, the sound sending vibrations through Sam- only adding to his pleasure.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come soon.” Desperate to give that final push, you reached up to cradle and roll Sam’s balls in your hand. Not expecting the sudden contact, Sam groaned and pulled harshly at your hair- the pain turning into shooting pleasure down your spine and straight to your core- and Sam came undone at the sound and feeling of you crying out around his length. Whimpering, you swallowed his come down quickly and then wiped your mouth clean with the back of your hand.

“That was amazing.” Cheeks flushed and thighs pressed tightly together, you grinned at Sam’s complement and stretched upwards to kiss him again.

Pulling away from him, you worried your bottom lip before asking: “Can I tell you another secret of mine?”

A warm smile murmured, “Of course, Y/N.”

“I like you a lot.. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time actually. I was just scared you saw me just as family and didn’t think of me that way…” Tracing random patterns into skin of his hip, you briefly felt fear that you were still wrong. That Sam still didn’t feel the same way and this was just a one time thing. That tomorrow morning you would wake up and-

“I like you too. Y/N.”

Breath catching, you looked up at Sam with wide eyes, “Really?”

Sam laughed, “No, that’s why I just made out with you and let you give me the best blow job ever- Of course really!”

Your ears felt hot but you grinned at his admittance, “‘Best blow job ever’, huh?”

This time it was Sam’s turn to blush and he rolled his eyes, “Don’t tease me when you’re the one still on your knees. Now, come ‘ere!”

Sam stood up quickly, kicking his pants off before tugging his shirt over his head and picking you up like a squealing bag of potatoes,

“Your turn.”

[notmrskennedy]

Likeability

(GN!Reader x Spencer Reid)

A/N - I’ve rewritten this thing like six freaking times but oh well - I hope it at least goes over better than the last - please be gentle 

Summary - The team meets a very dislikable scientist that Spencer seems to fancy

W/C - 2.8k

Warnings - brief anatomy/bones/etc mentions (our scientist is a forensic anthropologist-ish) & a dash of swearing

Important! - this is the FIRST ending and the alternative ending that you’ll like a lot more will come along in the next day or so

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is pulling on her coat when the commotion starts. Penelope, JJ, and Luke are clamouring all over you and Reid, all asking a million too many questions for you to answer. She smiles as you hold your ground next to Reid, arms crossed and relatively relaxed. Emily hasn’t been asked to weigh in on the debate, but she likes you. 

And she hopes the reason will come out in the next five seconds. 

Penelope ensures that it does. She cuts through everyone’s chatter with a flourish of her hands. “Y/N, Spencer,” she demands, “you have to tell me: are you dating or what?”

It takes all of half a second for the pair of you to break out into laughter, fumbling over each other, bent up in hysterics. Emily hopes her own chuckles are well hidden. You elbow Reid hard, barely breathing enough to get the sentence out, “Tell ‘em, Spence.”

Reid shakes his head, elbows you back. “Siblings, guys, we’re siblings.”

“But—!”

“That can’t be—!”

“Biological?”

Penelope shakes her head, throws herself physically into the conversation. “Wait! No! I looked you up! You aren’t the other Dr. Reid, you’re Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Did you change your name?” JJ coughs. Her eyebrows can’t possibly get further up into her hairline as you nod. “Why? Why would you do that?”

You snort. “You don’t want to know.”

Readjusting her scarf, Emily doesn’t bother to hide her shit-eating grin. “Do something illegal, Y/N?”

“Of course not, Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I, a very upstanding citizen and Spencer’s lovely younger sibling, would never do anything that caused me to change my name lest I be arrested in six different countries. No, of course not.”

[alleiradayne]

Head Over Feet

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been best friends since high school. Square Filled: Friends to Lovers Warnings/Tags: Lotsa floofs, implied smut at the end Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Reader Word Count: 1,939 A/N:  For @spnfluffbingo2019, this is my second square. It also fulfills this week’s @supernatural-jackles weekly writing challenge with the line, “Sorry, I thought I was alone”. Song: Head Over Feet by Alanis Morissette

“On your six!”

Gunfire rained down in a shower of casings as she ducked beneath his arm. Half a magazine emptied into the vampire, and it dropped to the floor, incapacitated for the moment.

“Y/N, look out!”

She whipped around as Dean’s machete arched through the air in a mighty swing and decapitated what must have been the twentieth vampire in the nest. The tight quarters of the house had stemmed the flow bloodsuckers, attacking only in groups of twos and threes. Dean breathed a wordless sigh of thanks for that. They had needed a break. And after a month of searching, they’d finally found it.

“You okay?” Dean asked as he neared her. “Shit, I got blood all over you.”

She wiped her face with her sleeve only to smear the dark blood across her pale cheek. “Eh, I’m good. Probably got my fair share on you, too,” she said with a bright giggle.

For the fifth time in as few days, Dean nearly fucked up. His hand twitched as he stepped near her, only to resist the urge to touch her at the last second. The first time, he'd almost kissed her. That had been months ago. The past week had been excruciatingly painful, tiny motel quarters, fitted FBI suits, revealing outfits at the bar, and fighting side by side. But none of that mattered. Y/N was his best friend. His feelings for her did not matter.

“Dean?”

Her clear, bright voice returned him to the present. “Yeah, let’s get going.”

As he followed her out of the house and to the car, Dean cursed under his breath. A nervous hand ran through his hair as he stomped down the gravel driveway, and the driver’s door of the Impala swung wide when he wrenched the handle. What was he going to do? His thoughts wandered as he slumped onto the bench seat behind the wheel and paused. With a shake of his head, he stabbed the keys into the ignition and started the car.

“You okay?”

The ache in his chest damn near ripped him apart. He could hardly look her in the eye. If he did, he might say something. He might tell her the truth, that he loved her, loved her big brain, her smile, her perfect voice, her terrible dancing, her stubborn willpower, her mean left hook. And yeah, sure. She had a great ass. Toss that on the list, too. Might as well go the whole six feet while he was digging.

With a stiff upper lip, Dean turned to her and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go get some sleep.”

The walls of their too-small motel encroached as Y/N lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her toiletries bag sat on her stomach, held in both hands as she waited her turn for the bathroom. When the door opened, Dean motioned her in with a nod of his head, toothbrush in his mouth. And damn him, he stood there in his t-shirt and boxer briefs as if she were family.

In a way she was. Best friends since the last high school Dean had ever attended, they’d seen their fair share of action together. Oh, and that night, all those years ago, when he had saved her ass? Yeah, that had been one for the record books. Her mom had kicked him out that night. When Y/N had found him the next day trying to hustle a couple classmates for bus fair, she gave him a ride across town.

But instead of dropping him off at the train station, she had left with him.

She shook off the memory with a grunt, swung her feet over the bed and stood. Everything had changed since then. Twenty years later, and they were still best friends. Dean’s brother, Sam, had returned to the fold a few years after high school. The three of them had been thick as thieves ever since.

When she headed for the bathroom, she glanced at Dean, and he smiled around his toothbrush. Better to not make things awkward, lest she tip her hand. She had done everything in her power to keep her silly infatuation to herself. And that was all it was. An infatuation. An infatuation with his ingenuity, with his big dumb smile, with his too green eyes, and dear lord, with his massive arms.

Dean leaned against the sink as she shuffled behind him and set her bag on the counter. When she held out her hand, he slapped the tube of toothpaste into it. From her bag she withdrew her brush, turned the water on, wetted it, and left the faucet running. Dean spit into the sink a second later, then filled a glass, took half into his mouth, and rinsed. Y/N brushed her teeth as she forced herself to look anywhere besides him, but that meant finding every flaw in the grout and caulk of the motel bathroom.

Dean set the half-full glass on the counter, spit into the sink again, and picked up the floss. It was as if they danced, Dean timed perfectly with Y/N following his steps. When she finished brushing, she rinsed with the remaining half of the glass while Dean flossed. He traded her the empty glass for the floss. Refilled, he rinsed once more, then set the half-full glass on the counter again and headed for bed. As always, Y/N used the second half of the glass to rinse, then flipped off the bathroom light.

She climbed into her tiny double bed, sheets cold against her bare legs, and curled into her extra pillow. At least they would head back to the Bunker in the morning. She could hide in her room for a day or two, and nobody would notice. Dean especially did not seem to care she would disappear for a while after a long hunt. He was probably sick of her after the last month on the road.

Within a few minutes, Dean began to snore. Good to know nothing kept him awake at night. It would take Y/N another hour to fall asleep. Maybe. If she were only so lucky.

Golden rays of late morning sun slanted across his face as Dean groaned. He rubbed one eye with the back of his hand as he awoke. Damn sun. He had wanted to sleep until they were kicked out. When he rolled over and found the other bed empty, he threw the covers aside and stood. Y/N would be back soon from her breakfast run, and she would want to get on the road right away.

With his pants and shirt on—possibly clean, he wasn’t sure, but at least they didn’t smell—he grabbed his bracelet from the bedside table only to find it broken.

“Shit.”

He thumbed the shredded clasp of his beaded bracelet as he slumped onto the end of the bed. It must have torn during the fight yesterday with the vampires. Not that he remembered snagging it. A bead rolled off the exposed end of the twine, and he caught it in his open palm.

Something about the coincidence sat strangely with him. He looked around the room, then spoke to no one in particular. “Are you trying to tell me something, Chuck?”

He glanced at the ceiling and felt more than a little ridiculous at the thought of talking aloud to a being that, as far as he knew, no longer existed in their universe. But, despite that, the need to get the words off his chest compelled him to continue. “What would I even say to her?”

A long-forgotten memory bubbled to the surface, fuzzy, muted, as though it belonged to someone else. Y/N handed him the beaded bracelet as she stood on the train platform with him, tears in her eyes. He had to meet back up with John and Sammy. He’d saved her. But in so doing, she had to live with the truth. And so, he had asked her to come with. School wasn’t much their thing anyway. Her hug had nearly broken a rib.

“I know she’s important to me,” Dean said to no one. Beads threatened to fall from the twine as he replaced the one that had fallen. “I guess I didn’t realize how important.”

John had been livid at first. But when Y/N proved her way around a rifle and gave Sam a run for his money with research, he got over it in a hurry.

“Dad never understood our friendship,” he continued. “Never understood why we were only friends.”

On the train, he had tried to give the bracelet back, but she had refused. Said she had made it for him. Might as well keep it. Too big for her wrist anyway.

“I know I love her,” he muttered as he rolled the beads between his thumb and forefinger. “I probably always did. But that scared me more than most things. I’ll never—”

The bathroom door cracked open and slowly revealed Y/N, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Dean flew from the bed and stuffed the bracelet in his pocket. “I uh… that was… sorry, I thought I was alone.”

“What did you just say?” she demanded.

Oh, fuck. “N-nothing… I was just… it was nothing.”

Her narrow glare scrutinized him as she approached. “No. You said it. I heard you.”

Christ. “I… okay, you know what?” he barked, “Fine! I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, I love you, and that’s just—”

Several silent seconds passed before Dean caught up with reality. Y/N clung to him, and his arms had wrapped under her thighs after she had leapt to him. Her hands grasped his hair at the back of his head as her lips crushed his. Her legs squeezed his hips as he collapsed to the bed, and Y/N giggled into their earnest kiss.

Relief washed over him in that moment of clarity. He had been worried about nothing. He had feared ruining a good thing, but without any reason, without any proof. With Y/N in his arms, he realized then that he had been acting like a fool for months.

When she parted from him, shock slashed crimson across her nose and she tried to scramble off him. But quick as a cat, Dean wrapped her up in his arms and pinned her to his chest. “Hey, don’t go, that was really nice.”

She froze. “What?”

He bit his bottom lip and her eyes snapped to his mouth. “Kiss me again, sweetheart. I want to make sure I’m not just imagining this.”

Her lips landed on his and Dean could have wept. Softer than anything he had ever felt, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her forever. He all but melted beneath her as he held her tighter, loathe to ever let her go.

With a lewd pop, she parted from him, but her lips brushed against his as she spoke. “I love you, too.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. And she laughed with him, a sound so pure he vowed to hear it every day for the rest of his life. But then another thought occurred to him, and he checked his watch. “We’ve got half an hour before they’ll kick us out of the room. What do you say we get our money’s worth?”

A devious grin spread across her lips as she sat up, straddling his hips. “Show me what we’ve been missing out on, Dean.”

Tags: @atc74 @hannahindie @bevans87 @meganwinchester1999 @plaided-ani-on-hiatus @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox @wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme

Special Tags: @mapplestrudel

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

AlleiraDayne’s SPN Fluff Bingo

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[ravewulf]

Fight, Fuck, Love?

They fucked as much as they fought and were just as passionate about it.

Aka an alternate take on what Derek and Peter did offscreen from episode 2x11 through to the end of the series

My (slightly late) submission for @deterweek Day 5 - Free Choice. But hey, I finally posted something again after being inactive forever :D Not beta read so let me know if I made a mistake/said something confusing/if something could be phrased better/etc. Read it on AO3 or here under the Read More.

Things were different between him and Derek after he came back from the dead. Not that the others noticed. If they had they’d assume he had started it.

They’d be wrong.

It was as they got worked up in an argument that he sensed lust mixing with anger, fear, and frustration. But he never acted on it. After what his nephew had been through, he refused to be like that bitch.

(How he wished he could have drawn out her death. Made it as agonizing as what he had felt. What his family had felt.)

Derek had made the first move. Had flung him down, crawled on top of him and waited with a heated stare. Daring him to meet half way.

Peter remembered swearing under his breath before lifting his head to crash their mouths together in a kiss that was teeth, fire, and blood.

And then Derek had fucked him into the floor.

He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

It continued from there. Fight and fuck. A cat and mouse game for dominance where they both walked away satisfied regardless of who came out on top.

Coming at blows and cumming from getting blown. Banging into objects after being hit or thrown then banging each other against every surface they’d fought on. Swiping each other with claws and with tongues. Blood, sweat, cum, and spit.

It wasn’t until Cora came back that they stopped.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

Being an alpha had put a huge target on Derek’s back when he was still trying to get his feet under himself to stabilize their pack. Or what was left of it, anyway. He could’ve kicked himself for his own negligence in not monitoring his nephew as closely as he should’ve.

He took great pleasure in killing the Darach and made sure she could never come back.

Derek’s eyes were blue again, like his own, but couldn’t help but feel there was still potential there. Certainly more than the newly christened “True Alpha.” They didn’t see eye to eye on the matter but he’d hoped his sister might’ve been able to impart a bit of wisdom in her son when he sunk her claws into the back of his neck.

He also hoped his nephew had the sense not to mention what they did in the dark. Born werewolves having laxer taboos than humans didn’t change the fact that his sister had always been an interfering judgmental pain in his ass.

It was particularly important as he and Derek had spent quite a lot of time getting reacquainted with each other after dropping Cora off and he had no desire to stop. There was a lot less fighting this time around other than petty tit for tat arguments.

In fact, with the one exception of Stiles getting possessed (one of the few people he and Derek both considered to be as good as pack), things were going quite decently as far as he was concerned.

At least until that bitch came back and kidnapped his nephew.

He knew within hours of it happening and worked behind the scenes to get him back. It was infuriating to watch the “True Alpha” bumble his way through everything and claim all the credit but he’d get his comeuppance eventually. He’d make sure of it.

Getting Derek back to his proper age and losing $117 million of his savings in one go was a frustrating experience. He’d saved that specific amount in reference to Derek’s birthday. Sue him for being sentimental when he was younger.

Well, for what money he had left in his other accounts anyway.

Derek was in a touchy mood and it made it clear with a snarl. And yellow eyes. Yellow.

He was back to his normal age but his powers were fading.

They fucked to take the edge off their frustrations but were left uneasy.

He didn’t like giving out more of their funds to mercenaries when he’d just been robbed by one. Especially when could do a better job than Braeden at tracking Kate and wheedling inside information from her. It had been part of his role in the pack before but Derek insisted they have extra help.

He grudgingly let Derek have a couple weeks with Braeden to “train” to protect himself without his powers. If it kept him her on their side and helped his nephew get over Kate, then fine. But if she hurt him she’d go the same way as the others.

He did not take kindly to those that hurt his pack.

Everything in his world froze when Derek was stabbed by a berserker. He longed to stay by his nephew and lover’s side. Derek was insistent and Peter knew they couldn’t speak freely in front of the others. He reluctantly turned away to “help” Scott.

With Derek dying there wasn’t much to hold him back when his plan to force to Scott kill Kate went awry. He would teach the brat the necessity of killing to protect your pack from threats even if it meant becoming that threat himself.

Coming back from the dead worked the first time when he tested Derek. Who’s to say he couldn’t pull it off again?

He woke up in a cell in Eichen.

Not the afterlife but given who he was stuck with this wasn’t much better.

He did find out that Derek had survived too. Not that he’d saved him from this prison or come to visit as far as he knew. Maybe Derek thought he deserved it for working with Kate? He hadn’t told anyone he was double crossing her but he thought Derek would’ve known. Would’ve seen through to his motives.

Maybe he did deserve being here anyway. He couldn’t argue that he’d done quite enough damage already.

Months passed. More than six at the very least. Maybe nine? He couldn’t tell as they blurred together but finally, finally he saw an opportunity and took it.

To hell with McCall and his ragtag pack. They didn’t deserve his protection.

He fully intended to leave and find Derek, wherever he had got to. But then…

It was like being snapped out of a daydream as Stiles woke him and it took a few moments to clear his mind of the stifling fog of compliance that permeated the area.

Forgotten.

The Wild Hunt.

As dire as the situation was, it was a relief to know his nephew was away and safe from being taken by the ghost riders. More than that, he swelled with pride when Stiles said Derek had left almost immediately after Mexico to hunt down Kate before the trail went cold. He’d taught him well.

He only wished Derek had taken him along.

More than once he thought he saw Derek out of the corner of his eye. It was only someone who looked like Derek but he still checked every time.

Derek probably didn’t know he’d ever existed.

The only chance at fixing this was with Stiles’s friends recognizing something was wrong, to force them to remember. He could not hide that the prospect of what it would take to get out of this liminal space terrified him.

Although, taking a token of Stiles’ might protect him from being outright disintegrated as well as helping the others remember. There was no doubt, not after seeing Stiles get cell service in the middle of nowhere, that the boy’s powers had awoken.

Being burned alive was just as agonizing as it had been the first two times.

The bedside manner of the nurse tending to him could also use improvement.

But with the Hunt diverted and Stiles returned within short order, he turned to keeping his ear to the ground for news of Derek.

It wasn’t exactly difficult, not when the main topic in the supernatural gossip chain was a werewolf with the rare ability to transform into a real wolf tracking down a hunter who had decimated dozens of families.

What did take a bit of work was finding out that the FBI was looking for Derek thanks to Kate pinning the murders on him. His informant was able to pull a few strings and arrange an extraction plan in the event that Derek did fall into their hands.

Several months later they were having their own hunter problems in Beacon Hills. Some sort of fear monster was loose and Gerard was taking full advantage of the situation to recruit a sizable chunk of the town.

Predictably, Scott was resistant to even the most basic and least violent ways of neutralizing the hunters. According to the “True Alpha,” locking up werewolves for thinking he wasn’t an effective leader was fine but not humans who were actively committing genocide against the supernatural.

And on top of that they blew up his rare, and very expensive, Shelby 1000 Cobra Mustang. At least he had a spare given Malia hadn’t been interested. How she could be a Hale and not like muscle cars was beyond him. Derek certainly knew how to appreciate a good muscle car.

Speaking of his nephew, he showed up with Stiles just in time for the big fight. They had contradictory stories of how they got away from the FBI and neither story was completely true. No doubt he’d be hearing about whatever it was they got up to for the next few weeks. At the same time he couldn’t say he really minded.

He did mind the level of friendliness Derek was showing Scott. It didn’t ring as truthful though he suspected none of the others sensed it. He knew his nephew too well not to know something was up and filed that interesting bit of info away to revisit later. They had more immediate concerns.

Facing Anuk-ite was not pleasant. The less said about the experience, the better.

On the other hand, breaking out of a stone shell to beat up a hunter was a very nice highlight. Finding that Kate and Gerard had finished each other was also quite satisfying even if he hadn’t been able to get in his own parting shots.He didn’t hang around and chased down a few more hunters before they could all get away.

The others were still inside doing who knows what when Derek joined him outside in the shadows, leaning into his space. He could tell Anuke-ite had left its mark on him as well and pulled Derek into an embrace, leaning their foreheads together. Aside from generally being nice, it helped settle their nerves. Proof they were still here and with each other.

Derek kissed him but without the usual fiery passion. Instead of the fight-and-fuck they had started with, it was tender and slow. It held meaning that he wasn’t prepared to voice yet.

There was plenty that they needed to discuss with Monroe and her hunters on the loose, the lack of true leadership from the “True Alpha,” and most importantly about their relationship. They needed to talk, really talk, about the issues between them if they were going to take this further.

But it could all wait until morning. Right now there wasn’t anything more he wanted than to curl up with Derek and sleep.

And that’s exactly what they did.

[surveys4ever]

26.

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celsius)? ...yes. Literally every year. There’s usually a week or two in January when it gets down to -50 to -75 F. 

Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? Maybe when I was a teenager? I’ve definitely been caught in the rain, not sure about a thunderstorm tho.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? I’ve actually never had a macaron! But I don’t like meringue so I don’t think I’d enjoy them.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Literally never.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? YES. The assistant manager at the last job I had was insane. She tried to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to leave town on the weekends in case they needed me. LOL girl bye.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? 0, covid.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Noooo.

What about a flip off of a diving board? I’ve never even been on a diving board.

Are you embarrassed by your school yearbook photos?  I believe in the 10th or 11th grade I hated them but I was on the yearbook committee so I finessed some new ones to put in hehehe.

Who taught you to tie your shoelaces? I believe I learned at school.

Currently how many pictures are on your cellphone? 9,008.

Do you think dimples are cute? Oh hell yeah.

Would you rather chew fruity or minty gum? Minty.

The last time you went to the mall, who did you go with? Beebs!

What’s something you used to collect when you were younger? Rocks and lip balm.

Have you watched a movie today? Yes! We went to see Dracula.

Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? We went to an indoor garage sale a couple weeks ago.

Do you love soft pretzels? They’re alright. They smell better than they taste in my opinion.

Who was the last person who cried around you? Why did they start crying? Was it unexpected? Does my dog count? Bc she’s just a drama queen and I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

Are you more likely to like someone before you really know them, or do you feel you like them more after you know a lot about them? True love is when you like them a ton before you actually really know them and then like them even more after.

Do you buy people cards on special occasions, or do you prefer to make your own? I honestly think cards are a huge waste of money so if I do give one, I made it. But I have a Circuit and I’m pretty creatively inclined so it’s pretty easy.

When was the last time you were being hypocritical? It sounds pompous but I honestly think I'm too self aware to by hypocritical.

Where on your body was the last cramp you had? Why did you have this cramp? My hip, because I was sitting weird.

What is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard? Someone I know named their kid Emanda. Unsure if its pronounced ee-manda or just regular Amanda. Haven’t wanted to ask. Another named their kid Albrea. I just call her Algebra. And another named their kid Annekke, pronounced Anika. She will forever be a-neek-ee to me.

Do you get embarrassed when people hear you sing/compliment you on your singing ability? Bold of you to assume I ever let anybody sing.

Are you good at comforting people when they’re upset? I’m the big sister to like a bajillion children. Yes I’m good at it.

Do you have any exercises you do everyday? Newp.

Do you own one of those singing fish? Do you think they are silly or funny? Hahaha I don’t but I literally just saw a Billy Bass at a thrift store yesterday. They were funny then and they’re funny nostalgic now.

Has anyone ever accused you of being bipolar or any other mental disorder? Do you really have any mental disorders? I have a pretty severe anxiety disorder but no one’s accused me of having it because like...it’s pretty obvious? 

Did you buy the last thing you bought with your own money? If not, whose money did you buy it with? Haha yes! We bought movie tickets, a drink, and peanut butter m&ms.

Do you like to put your feet up on the dashboards of cars? Do you parents yell at you if you do that in cars? Our car is too short for that but yeah, my parents always yelled at me for it when I was young.

Which Beatle is your favorite, or do you love them all equally? I wouldn’t say I loved any of them but John Lennon is absolute hot garbage.

Do you enjoy classic rock? If so, who are some of your favorite classic rock artists? Uh...not really?

Did you ever own a Tamagotchi? Yes! They were all the rage in the 6th grade.

Are you more of a dog or cat person?/ Dog, definitely.

Have you ever failed math? I very, VERY narrowly passed the last math course I needed to graduate and I did the math and because of the mark I got on my final, I should have failed by 3% but I got 1% over what I needed to pass. Pretty sure my math teacher just didn’t want to deal with me taking the course over so he passed me BUT my math could have been wrong, haha.

Skittles! What's your favorite color? Lordt. I haven’t purchased skittles in ages. I think I remember red being my favorite?

Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? Yeah, actually.

What would you want your last words to be if you could choose them? I would just want my husband to know how much I love him and that I’ll be waiting for him in whatever form of afterlife there is.

Can you sleep with the light on? If I'm dead tired.

What’s the most bizarre horror movie you’ve ever seen? I mean...Dracula is supposed to be a horror movie. The only thing horrific about it was the acting.

What band can’t you stand listening to? I honestly can’t think of one right now.

Would you ever take a lie detector test for your significant other? I mean, if I had to? But we trust each other 100% and I’m brutally honest about everything so he would never require that from me.

What is your favorite Mystery/Crime/FBI related show? Murder, Mystery, & Makeup Mondayssss! Sha na sha sha na sha sha na sha sha sha na shaaaaaaaa!

Would you ever have a bird as a pet? Absolutely not.

How's your relationship between you and your grandparents? I love my mom’s parents to bits. My grandma is one of my absolute favorite people in the world and my grandpa is very quiet but he has a lot of really sweet moments. My dad’s parents are awful fuckin people. My grandfather died like 5 years ago and I really had to try hard to feign sympathy about it to him. My grandmother is still kicking it but we haven’t spoken in over a decade for good reason. She also changed their joint Facebook account to just her Facebook account less than a week after he died loooool. She hated him as much as I did I think. And then my bio dad’s dad is dead but he was also a piece of shit but his mom is a sweetie. We facetime every so often and she holds the phone a grand total of 6 inches away from her face the entire time and tells me the same stories over and over. Bu

Ever had a forbidden love or lover? Newp.

Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? No, thank god.

Do you know someone who’s been cremated? My grandma’s dog.

What is your current problem? My eyes are blurry because I’m tired.

Do you like canopy beds? Tbh, canopy beds are the epitome of glamor in my eyes.

What is your favorite animated movie? Onward.

Would you rather live in a small town or a big city? I like medium cities. You won’t get mugged walking down the street, traffic doesn’t absolutely suck, and you can get clear across town in 15 minutes.

If you could summon any animal to come to your rescue, what animal would it be and why? Uh? Why am I in trouble? Why can’t I call a human? What’s happening here?

Have you ever watched The Golden Girls? I tried watching a couple episodes but it didn’t pique my interest.

Did you ever like the Ninja Turtles? Noooo. Beebs loves them though so he tries to make me love them and it’s just not happenin, buddy.

Last alcoholic drink you had? No idea tbh.

What are you known for? For being talented and having big hair.

Has anyone ever threatened you? Oh yeah. There was this one guy who was constantly sending me really graphic messages about how he wanted to put a gun to my head and kill me or he hoped I would get XYZ and die. I tried to block him but he would immediately make 3 more accounts to send me the same shit.

Have you ever gone frog hunting? Noooo.

Do you ever suffer from dry skin? Yessss. My body is the Sahara.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? No, I sleep with a husband.

What’s the weather like right this moment? It’s rainy!

Do you bite on straws, lollipop handles, or ice cream sticks? Nah.

In what type of area was your first sexual encounter? Beeb’s bedroom. His stepfather interrupted and made him come outside to talk to him for some reason and then very weirdly pointed out his half boner? V. uncomfortable all around.

Where is your mother’s side of the family descended from? Somewhere where white people come from idk.

What do you occupy your time with on flights? iPad games usually.

Do you dog-ear pages in books? No, I’m not a heathen.

What’s a made up word of yours? We call pickles ‘pickies’ and hamburgers ‘borgers’ or ‘borgs’ because we’re gross.

Do you use Q-Tips? In my ears? No. To clean out tight spaces of things I've thrifted? Yes.

Ever gone out with somebody you didn’t like? Noooo.

What hero or heroine do you most relate to in history, fiction, or song? ....No.

What makes you dizzy? Getting up too fast usually.

Are your parents liberal or conservative? Bleh, conservative. If you have liberal parents, consider yourself blessed.

Do you like your teeth? Did you have braces? I got away with having just an appliance/Invisaligns but I still don’t like my teeth. They’re perfectly straight and white enough but I have body dysmorphia and for some reason I think they’re atrocious and I hate them??? I can’t explain it.

Are you happy with your height? I’m 5′11 and I wish I was shorter sometimes. Hugging my husband would be easier.

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 19)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2043

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded as soon as you met at the apartment. “Killing? Really?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you softly said.

“Are you at least a little remorseful?” he asked.

“Is that really what you want to know? My level of guilt? Is that what’s going to make this feel better?”

“Maybe, I don’t know! All I know is the woman I love is a serial killer, and a federal agent and I don’t know how to process this!” he shouted, his eyes wild with anger. 

You just sat there quietly while Spencer paced in front of you. You had no idea what to say or do at this point. The truth was out, what more did he want from you? 

“How did you even decide you wanted to do it?” 

“When I realized it was Dexter, and who his victims were… I realized I wasn’t entirely unhappy with it. Then I remembered how much anger I had for Rochester getting let out and all the other dozens of bastards that were found innocent, or evidence was lost, and I just got so mad that… that I thought he could teach me.” 

He stopped pacing to sit in front of you on the coffee table. “Has he brainwashed or manipulated you in any way?”

“No. I did this on my own. I found out he was the killer, and confronted him.”

“And you’re just okay with this? You’re his… student?”

“I like to think I’m his friend. He was very helpful and supportive when you were missing.”

“Oh for fucks’s sakes that right.You brought him to the office. Jesus, you had a serial killer in the building. And you’re calling him your friend? What the hell happened to you down here?” 

“You getting targeted by one too many unsubs,” you said in a low voice, solemn lacing every word as you stared at him. “Spencer, I may be a killer, but I still love you with every atom of my body. You’ve been kidnapped, tortured, shot, forced to take drugs, and abused by so many unsubs, I just can’t stand it any more. I wanted some justice for those bastards who did things to you. Tell me you haven’t wanted to kill people before, some of our worst unsubs. Foyett, Scratch, Cat?” 

“Wanting to and acting on it are two different things, Y/N! We don’t chase fantasies, we hunt people who actually act on them!” he cried out, his face getting red. “If you didn’t feel bad for what you did, you’d be a lot more defensive right now. Which means you know what you’re doing is wrong.” 

“Well which is it? Am I a cold-blooded psychopath, or am I a misguided agent, someone who lost their way, like Elle?” you demanded.

“That all depends on how you felt when you killed them,” he stated coolly.

“What do you want me to say? What? That it didn’t feel good? That it didn’t feel like some sort of accomplishment or victory getting some of these people off the streets? Do you want me to tell you that I feel guilty?” 

“Do you?” he asked, accusation in his tone. 

“Not particularly no. All I did was skip some bullshit and red tape. You know what it’s like to work in this job. You know how god damn hard it is to watch a killer go free after we put in hours and effort to get them off the streets, they sit on a stand, lie, take plea deals and they’re out in five, ten years, doing it all over again. All the red tape, all the laws, all the restrictions, and for what? So someone can go out and murder a little girl again? So someone can brutally torture a family before slaughtering it? Sorry if I don’t particularly feel any remorse for stopping them, for good.” 

“Tell me what you felt when you killed them,” he demanded, almost as if it were a plea. 

You threw your hands out to the side, a gesture of giving up. “I...I felt relief, knowing they wouldn’t hurt anyone else, alright? It didn’t feel satisfactory, it didn’t feel sexual, it didn’t feel euphoric. I don’t get high doing it like Dexter does, okay? I just do it as a means to an end. I just do it because the way the FBI works is too damn long with no guarantee, so I took matters into my own hands. I did what every agent dreams of doing.” 

Spencer eyed you up and down for a moment, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. Perhaps he was about to turn you in. Maybe he was rethinking the marriage. Maybe he was finally understanding you. 

“Are you worried that maybe getting inside killer’s heads that now maybe they’ve gotten into mine?” 

“No, I don’t. You’re smarter than that.” 

“Then profile me, Spence.” 

He made an anguished, frustrated expression. “Y/N, don’t do this. We’re better than this.” 

“No, I want you to do it. What do you see when you look at me? An unsub, or your wife?”

He took a few steps towards you. “I see both, don’t you get that? That’s why this is so hard for me. I understand where you’re coming from, I do, but I can’t justify what you’ve done. As much as I may love you, I can’t pretend this is okay.” 

You nodded, your chest getting tighter as you started to feel colder. “I understand that. You do what you have to do, I won’t stand in your way. I never have.” 

“But you aren’t going after the people who hurt me,” he noted after a moment of quiet. “You said you were doing this because of the things that happened to me, but you aren’t killing them.”

“You’re right. I’m going after surrogates. You know who I kill?” 

“Does it matter?”

“To me it does… Spence, I kill animal abusers. People who use animals for personal gain. People who run unsanitary farms. People who hurt an innocent creature. I honestly do try to do this to uphold the oath we took. I know it’s messy, I know it’s not the way you’d do it, or anyone should do it, but life was starting to feel a little… pointless. I felt like, what’s the point in doing the investigating, going through red tape, following protocol, if all it gets us is a guilty man back out on the streets? I’m not saying we deserve forgiveness or a pass. I’m just hoping you can understand why I did it. I did it for people like you who are just doing their job and wind up victims to sadistic, cruel people.”

He sat there and his eyes drifted down to the floor. 

“I watched you turn into a shell of a man in prison thanks to some psycho with a vendetta, and even worse, you came pretty close to becoming what I am.”

He nodded for a moment. “I...That was--”

“I’m not faulting you, Spence,” you assured, putting your hand on his knee. You were thrilled when he didn’t cringe away from you. 

“No, I mean, I’m not any better. I laced those men’s drugs with poison. I wanted them to die. I saw them kill Luis and I guess I snapped…I had no excuse to do that.” 

You bobbed your head. “Do you see now, how I can do what I did?” 

“I don’t know. It’s such a big leap. I mean, I killed because they murdered my friend. You don’t even know these people.”

“I don’t have to know them to know their victims didn’t deserve it.”

“This goes against everything I stand for as an agent, and worst of all, you’re doing it. If you were anyone else, I would’ve called this in by now. But it’s you and I can’t… can’t watch you go through what I did.” 

You bit your lip. “I’ll respect any decision you make. If I’m being honest, I told you the truth because having you believe I was unfaithful and losing you that way would hurt a hell of a lot worse. At least this way, I hope somewhere you can find it in you to see where I’m coming from. After eight years of dealing with lost battles, almost losing you, and watching the injustice in this world, that’s where I stand. But if you left me because of a lie, a lie that could never, ever be true, I couldn’t live with myself. You knowing I am faithful to you, that I love you, means more to me than anything else. I hope you can see that.” 

“I do. I know the toll this job takes.”

You nodded. “If you can think of it like dilaudid, it’s kind of like that. It’s really an addiction for Dexter, not so much for me, but it is… a bit of a stress relief, to know those people won’t be hurting anyone any more.” 

For a moment you two sat there in quietness. The silence killed you, and while the next words out of your mouth were agonizing, you felt they needed to be said, for his peace of mind. 

“I understand if you don't love or trust me any more. If you want a divorce while you decide, I would understand. It would kill me, but I would. I just hope you know I honestly did this all to protect other people." 

He peered at you, something… kind deep within his gaze. 

“Right now… I don’t know what I want. I don’t want to make any rash decisions. Like I said, I’ve tried to murder people too, so I can’t exactly play the superiority card right now. Let me just think on it. I’m going to go back home to D.C. while I figure out what I want to do. You can wrap up your semester here, and then by the time you get home, I’ll let you know what I decide.” 

You nodded, your chest tightening. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to go home, file for divorce, and send you and Dexter off to a maximum security prison. 

“What about us in the meantime? Should I not call you or…?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want my decision to be made by any emotional attachments.”

“Understood,” you said, fighting the lump in your throat. 

“Could you do me a favor though?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t… kill any more?”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly. 

He nodded and stood up from the coffee table. 

“Are you going to stay here?” you asked as you stood, hugging yourself. This was so god damn painful. Watching your husband treat you like a criminal. No touching, hugging, kissing. No kind or sweet words. No nicknames. Just cold, calculated interviews. 

“I’ll be at a hotel, and I’ll leave in the morning.”

“You could always stay here,” you offered. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” he said solemnly. “I… I can’t be in the same room with the woman I love, and the woman who kills.”

All you did was nod. 

He didn’t do anything but bob his head once, then he ducked out of your apartment. 

You stayed awake all night that night, not a minute went by that you weren’t crying. Not because of losing your freedom, or losing your job, or damning Dexter, or failing at just keeping a secret. You could live with all that - but losing your marriage, Spencer… That was the kicker. 

The horrible part was that it was worth it though. To know those animals got out safely from those dog fighting rings. To know that those innocent people at that chef’s restaurant weren’t going to suffer any more. As much as it ached, down to your very bones to lose the one man you’d ever loved, the one man who was perfect in your eyes, at the end of the day, people and animals needed saving, and you did that. You gave them that justice. 

Now, you had two weeks to live the rest of your life. You wondered what you would do with it.

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