#he's so good he's so good i love vic so much

[f0point5]

I think I have sent this same request some time ago but I still would like you to write something about Emilia and Max hanging out with Victoria’s children and maybe thinking about their own future kids. But really anything with Max and Emilia would be great!

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, but tumblr eats asks sometimes 🤷‍♀️ but it’s too cute so here you go! I am keeping these short but I hope you still enjoy it!

✨Set during summer break 2024✨

I’m having his baby (…) no, I’m not

You take a sip of your rosé as Victoria comes to stand beside you. You’re lurking in the doorway of the lounge, watching Max sitting on the couch with his baby niece in his arms. He’s bobbing her in a gentle motion, his hands looking huge around her tiny, swaddled body.

“God, I remember when we used to say our kids would get married,” Vic says beside you, and you laugh.

You did say that. As little kids you would wish to be sisters, and somehow the only way you could think to make that happen would be for your children to marry each other. Like in that Flintstones movie you used to love. You’d draw pictures of the two of you sitting on the porch of a large house, watching your children get married.

Now you wonder if your mums thought the same, during those summers in Italy, as they watched you all play. They swear now that they did, that the mother’s intuition told them you and Max were tied together by some invisible chord that chafed on both your wrists. “A mother always knows,” Sophie said to you when she saw you last, “you will know, too”.

“And now that would be illegal and dangerous for our grandkids,” you say, shaking your head. “Crazy,”

“I like it better this way,” Victoria says, putting her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a hug.

“Me, too,” you agree, your eyes fixed on Max and Hailey. He’s whispering to her in Dutch, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she yawns in his face, which only makes him smile. He’s utterly mesmerised by her. And you’re mesmerised by him.

I swear I can actually feel my ovaries right now.

“He’s so good with kids,” Vic says. “Even with Jaye I remember he was so gentle,”

“Yeah,” you agree, only half hearing her as you take another sip.

“Gives you baby fever, huh?”

You choke on your wine. Was that Victoria or your subconscious talking?

Vic, are you in here? No, of course she’s not in here. She’s just being nosey. Act natural.

“Are you okay?” Max asks from the couch. You look over at him as you wipe your mouth, coughing once as you nod. Even as he looks at you in concern, he never stops the gentle bouncing motion of the baby in his arms.

You go to answer, but Vic beats you to it, blunt as ever. “I was just saying, you will be having one of your own soon, yeah?” She smiles, nodding at Hailey.

If Max is panicking as much as you, he doesn’t show it, just shrugging. “I mean, ye-“ You can feel your eyes widen, and he stops when he sees your face. He tries again. “May-“ he frowns at you, silently begging for help. “No?” You nod gently, and Max turns to Victoria. “No.”

She looks at you in mild disbelief. “No?”

“No,” you emphasise to both Verstappens.

You love them dearly but genetics are a crazy thing - they both share a chronic disregard for timing. They want it all, and they want it now, in any order, all order be damned.

“You’re not getting any younger,” Victoria says, nudging you.

“That is just rude,” you tell her, and she just smiles unapologetically.

“Oh, come on,” she implores, reaching up to wind her finger around a lock of your hair, “a little baby with Max’s eyes and your hair?”

“And both of our tempers,” you say with a chuckle. “Can you imagine that? Besides, we can barely make cereal, and you want us to raise a baby?”

You look at Max for support, but he’s no longer paying attention. He’s looking down at his niece like he’s holding water.

Maybe a baby can live on cereal, if her dad looks at her like that.

“I’m going to go put Hailey down for her nap,” Vic says, jerking you from your thoughts.

She goes over to take a sleepy Hailey from Max’s arms, and he looks loathe to let her go. She looks so much bigger when held by her mother, and her so much more fragile.

“When I get back, we can start on dinner. I’m going to make cereal,” Vic teases in a whisper, winking at you as she passes.

Max snorts with laughter, and you shoot Vic a glare as she starts to hum, shuffling her way out of the lounge towards the bedroom.

You join Max on the couch, falling onto it beside him with a heavy sigh.

“So glad I’m an only child,” you say, rolling your eyes. When Max doesn’t respond, you glance over at him to find him staring at his hands. You nudge him gently. “What?”

“You do,” he starts, leaning back as he turns to you. “Want kids, someday, don’t you?With me. I mean…you don’t think I’ll be, like…”

“No,” you answer quickly, when you understand what he’s getting at.

You silently curse yourself for that joke about tempers. For ever making him think that’s something you worry about. You know there’s a heaviness in Max, in both of you. You know that he is so much more than his father’s son. But you also know that the weight on his shoulders will keep him crooked until he can see that for himself. You hope knowing you see it will be enough for now.

“I want your baby, Max. Someday. There’s no one else I would ever do this with besides you and not just because I love you, but because I know you’ll be an amazing dad,” you tell him honestly, and even that small platitude seems to relax his shoulders. “But can we at least get to one year of baby making activities before we start painting a nursery?”

Max nods, letting out a husk of a laugh. “I’m shit at painting anyway,” he says, looking at you from under those eyelashes that you secretly envy.

Maybe she’ll inherit those, too.

“Free practice?” You offer with a smirk, holding your hand for his.

Max looks at your outstretched palm for a moment before taking your hand in his. “Free practice,” he agrees, using his grip on your hand to pull you forward so that your chest is pressed against his. “I’m looking forward to FP2 later,”

[painting-plural]

Can’t decide which ship you prefer?

Solution:

Polyamory!

Wade would love being squashed between Vic and Logan in bed, and I will not be hearing otherwise!

Wade would surprisingly be a good cook and would try cooking for Victor and Logan but only Logan would eat it--Victor choosing to hunt his food and eat it over a campfire or something.

Wade gets scary dog privileges. Scary dogs in question: Victor and Logan.

To Wade, Victor is Kitten and Logan is Peanut. To Victor, Logan is Runt and Wade is Little Freak or just Freak. Victor and Wade both are just Bub to Logan.

When Victor or Logan lose it and go feral, Wade does the stupid thing and calls out their names and throws their clothes at them--something he learned from certain fairytales that tell how to turn a werewolf back to normal--and what’s even stupider is that it confuses them and grounds them so much, it works.

[svtskneecaps]

lukewarm take of the evening: y'all care too much about being ""outdated"". fellas this smp moves inhumanly fast. it is ok to CHILL holy shit CHILL. y'all are like "(posts BANGER ART) super late guys sorry" friend i am hitting you with a blanket i am snapping you with my metaphorical towel WHAT DO YOU MEAN SORRY. "(posts BANGER FIC) rip this is outdated now" WHO CARES???? I LOVE YOU, OK. ohhhh woe is us as the fandom at large for having MORE HAPPY PILLS ARC CONTENT oh no how outdated!! how could you be writing speculative fiction about how forever felt during happy pills :( slash SARCASM!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!!!! THERE ARE SO MANY BANGER ARCS, WHAT, YOU THINK WE'RE COMPLAINING????? FOR GETTING MORE OF THE CONTENT WE LOVED????? oh no we're past the period where everyone thought green gay ninjas were like Dead Dead, my work is now outdated and noncanon :( WDYM. GIMME. A BANGER IS A BANGER IDC IF IT TAKES THREE MONTHS. you think rome was built in a day?? fuck you, baltimore, GIMME. my ass has been cooking a goddamn backflipo family fic since july when it was ALREADY outdated do you think i fear god??? "oh no, you're making an edit of slime's (attempted) egg murdering spree?? how could you, that was months ago it's irrelevant" SAID NO ONE EVER.

save your wrists kidlings ok carpal tunnel is no joke. CHILL!!!!! CHILL!!!!!!!! TAKE YOUR TIME SHEEEEEESH OK LOVE YOU <3

[fangirling-mess]

was about to have a stroke about this but i realized that it actually might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me

[johnandrasjaqobis]

"you asked for this."

WHAT AN ENDING HOO BOY

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

I started rereading random O'Neil Question issues again and then reread Question Returns because its been a while and god. I love The Question Returns but it always makes me wanna just lay down and cry

[fungi-maestro]

The Question #9 (1987)

[leclercwriting]

rb admin | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

everyone wants to know who's the rb admin

masterlist

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 765,939 others

caption: good weekend after a long time

view all comments

redbullracing: congratulations maxie!

user83: rb admin is really in love with max

user32: who's the rb admin??

danielricciardo: not me

landonorris: I'm gonna get u mate. spa is waiting for me

maxverstappen1: of course

redbullracing: NO U ARE NOT GONNA GET HIM.. HE'S MADMAX

user84: redbull admin chill😭

landonorris: rb admin scares me

y/n.user: dududu

danielricciardo: max verstappen

user27: wtf is y/n

user81: maybe rb admin??

user09: nooo way

y/n.user

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 12,849 others

caption: who's gonna be my max verstappen to my dudududu

view all comments

bff2: I can be

maxverstappen1: sorry she's taken

user84: MAX VERSTAPPEN?!

user9: uhm this is very weird

user5: does anyone know what is going on

danielricciardo: you already have ur max verstappen

y/n.user: i knooow. But I want one in the female version so we can root for the real max verstappen on race weekend

victoriaverstappen: 🖐

y/n.user: vic

landonorris: am I slow? I have no clue who tf is this girl

user3: she's probably dating max

user2: maybe rb admin?

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, y/n.user and 765,931 others

caption: our world champion enjoying his victory

view all comments

user73: wait, I saw that girl on the tv and I have no clue who she is

user71: I think her name is y/n and she's supposed to be rb admin

y/n.user: hey, its me

y/n.user: max deserved this victory

user36: girl answer!! Are u rb admin??

user9: she's chosing silence

danielricciardo: congrats to max

user2: we need to see rb admin

redbullracing: u might see him/her soon😘

user6: the emoji😭😭😭

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, y/n.user and 1,378,838 others

caption: so this is the rb admin. Hope yall like her. She's cool I guess

view all comments

redbullracing: she's really cool xx

maxverstappen1: ofc xx

user737: OMG

user3: she's so beautiful

user83: max how did u get her lol

landonorris: maximilian dating his co-worker... nothing new

user637: jealous lando

y/n.user: lando stop crying

user6: she's eating up the whole paddock

user73: I love her

user2: I knew rb admin is gonna be hot and cool

y/n.user: thanks babe xx

y/n.user

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 303,737 others

caption: soo I guess that everyone knows that I'm rb admin. Hey

view all comments

maxverstappen1: my babyyy

y/n.user: love youuu

user83: omg I'm melting

landonorris: ew I'm not

danielricciardo: lando we need to find u a gf

user737: THE MAX BLANKET

user2: I know that everyone loves the max blanket but can we talk about how we saw the rb admin everywhere but no one noticed?!

y/n.user: I'm like a ninja or assassin

danielricciardo: yeah you are

user63: danny being friends with max's girlfriend makes si much sense

y/n.user: he's only trying to get the rb place

user62: I'm not going to shut about them like ever. They're so cute

user73: cutest couple award

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being the Justice League’s computer intelligence

Justice League x reader

warnings:

a/n: THANKS BABE. this is such an old request i am so freaking sorry

prompt: anonymous: “Hello! I would like to request a Justice League (DC Extended Universe) + Reader who is sort of their 'Person in the Chair' - helping behind the scenes to keep their weapons/powers/skillset in tact, but is not afraid to fight back if necessary? I would like these to be a set of headcanons, please? Thank you and Happy Writing! P.S. You're writing is incredible!”

you and alfred got along well

“glad i’m not the only one doing the grunt work anymore” -alfred

“and i was under the impression you loved this job” -you, sarcastically

you could frequently be found switching between important sites that actually helped during missions and reddit

“alfred hang on i want your opinion on this: ‘am i the asshole for trying on my bosses suit? i (25m) work with some pretty famous people and my boss (45m) has a really cool suit. it’s a little stiff but i think i like it. anyways, there’s a matching hat (if you will) and it smells AWFUL, so i sprayed it with febreeze but it only made it worse—’” -you

“hang on. this cant be…” -alfred

“HOW DID YOU FIND MY REDDIT ACCOUNT?!” -barry, over comms

“your name is scarletspeedster, and we’ve been trying to wash that febreeze smell from the cowl for weeks.” -you

“my god, barry. next time, just use an old suit” -alfred

“really?!” -barry

“no” -you and alfred

you do a lot of gadget/weapon design with JL members

“it’s acceptable” -bruce

“wow, thanks” -you

“it’s…it’s good work. i mean it” -bruce

diana sits with you and tells you stories, sometimes theyre very informational

“so if you ever do end up fighting, you’re going to want to craft a very nice sword for yourself. i know you’re good at that, you’ll do just fine” -diana

barry nerds out with you sometimes

he gets real excited when he sees you designing stuff on the computer

and tries to be helpful

“wind resistance might be a problem with this design, you should go sleeker” -barry

“hey, barry? if you don’t let me do my job im gonna design a tool specifically to shut you up” -you

“harsh!” -barry

“sorry, maybe a little too far. but let me work” -you

arthur wanted cooler clothes

“can i get you some material from atlantis so you can make me a nicer suit?” -arthur

“only if you bring me extra so i can have fun with it” -you

“not a problem for the king, its a deal” -arthur

clark didn’t really need/want much

but he was a great help when testing new weapons and suits

“can you just…laser vision that target right ahead. new suit material” -you

“yeah, stand back” -clark

it held for a good 20 seconds

“better than i thought” -you

you were their eyes in the sky on missions

directions, lookout, enemies, obstacles, detours, you name it

and yeah, maybe victor could also do a great deal of this stuff, but you got to do it behind the scenes and you actually got paid pretty well for it

but occasionally you did ask him for tech support

“victor, the batcomputer froze” -you

“i know, i did that on purpose” -vic

“can you unfreeze it so i can see what’s going on?” -you

“what’s the password?” -vic

*sigh* “ilovevicstone123” -you

diana let you spar with her sometimes

which honestly scared you every time bc you know she could kill you if she wanted to (but you knew she would never)

(but she could)

you’d never be apart of the justice league, which was very okay with you because you loved being behind the scenes and not being shot at

and so long and you had tea with alfred while the rest of them were kicking ass, you’d manage

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[tubes-and-dice]

I fucking love the dynamics between the ‘people’ and the ‘avatars’ in NSBU.

G13 is using Usha, because he’s a hacker and a manipulator, and she’s exactly the kind of person who can be easily scammed. Haunting. Spine-chilling. Cool as fuck, truly unbelievable storytelling, and it’s developed so organically!

On the other hand, Vic is mentoring Wendell in a way, and we got to see them really sync up this episode, working together to advance the narrative and protect their people. Wendell totally gets the kind of person that Vic is, and I think that helps him take Vic’s advice as the more experienced person- but also know that he’s not always going to be right.

Paula and Jack are sort of… misaligned. She keeps trying to find guidance from him, but they’re almost too similar? Jack so far that we’ve seen is very hands-off, and doesn’t seem all that worried about Paula- or his own family. Whereas Paula of course cares deeply about Jack’s family already, because she’s much more involved and familial minded than what we’ve seen of Jack.

Liv and Kingskin are, I think, the most compatible duo. Liv has settled nicely into her role in some ways, the control and power it grants her suits her well, and it feels like Kingskin likes her because of that? But at the same time her compassion for others is making such a notable difference in the way that she’s able to interact with people in Kingskin’s circles that it feels like he could learn as much from her as she’s learning from him. They feel like the most balanced pair, with the most mutual respect.

Dang doesn’t match Stocks’ vibe at all. He’s trying to do the cool action movie things, he’s playing into the role really well at times- but who Dang is, really, doesn’t sync up. His morals and priorities are very different from Stocks’- for good and bad alike. There’s very little connection between the two, it feels like- to me it reads as Dang just trying to fill the shoes of this Bond-like character, more than anything. Sometimes he’s really able to pull it off, and sometimes it just… doesn’t work. Stocks isn’t helping him. He’s on his own- which it seems is perhaps a norm for Dang.

Then of course, Russell. Russell and Jennifer are not a team at all- what Russell is learning from this experience, he’s learning from simply being Jennifer, not from communicating with her. He’s a man who we know is used to being attractive, used to being complimented and unused to being told off for the way that he behaves. I love the way that Ally’s taken his character as Jennifer- because he isn’t Jennifer. He’s Russell. He doesn’t want to wear a skin-tight bodysuit, he wants to get a baggy shirt to hide this form that he’s not used to, and work with the new skills that he has.

Idk I just think it’s super super cool that all of the players are working within the mechanic so differently, and I think every single manifestation of this dynamic makes so much sense for the characters that it’s just astounding. This last episode was such a good show of these dynamics and the impact they actually have on the plot.

[morphodae]

Sun-kissed Flowers On the Open Plains

❈ jiaoqiu x foxian!reader ↳reader is described as feixiao's sister but is not given pronouns; additionally, reader also has no tail and has two different colored eyes due to borisin experimentation "you, feixiao's sister, are a renown Genius Society researcher assigned the task of helping jiaoqiu after the events preceding the wardance on the xianzhou luofu. The only problem is… the general’s trusted retainers have never once heard of you." cw: 2.5 spoilers (utc), feixiao lore spoilers, a bit of slowburn, hurt/comfort, mentions of trauma, etc wc: 3.2k

“Checkmate!”

The foxian tilts his head, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. “General, that would be the wrong game —“

A hiccup interrupts his thoughts, a shaky finger reaching over the game board in an attempt to shush her retainer. “Jiaoqiu,” she slurs, a wine bottle held snugly against her other arm, “vic — victory here is inevitable. And I won fair and square.” Looking at the board, her retainer agrees that Feixiao did indeed win fairly. “So, let’s have another round!”

“As much as I’d love to, General,” he says, hands folded under his chin, “I must remind you, despite your enthusiastic efforts in prolonging it, that you are to meet with a client in less than a system hour.” Smirking, he feels around for the phone in his pocket. While acclimating to the lack of sight, his other senses had improved drastically. 

Feixiao pouts before taking another swig of her wine and setting it down loudly. 

“Plus, I did win a few matches ago,” Jiaoqiu begins, “one of the stipulations of that particular match was you agreeing to tell me of this ‘imminent person’ that you’re meeting with.” As someone who, despite his eyesight, was still tasked with taking care of the General’s daily tasks and meetings, Jiaoqiu was stumped when the report was read to him that an undisclosed meeting was to take place later in the afternoon. Not only that, but Feixiao refused to tell him who the person was. The General was always a free and impulsive spirit, so Jiaoqiu didn’t want to nag too much — the General often did as she pleased despite his protests anyhow — but the thought of a mysterious individual so secretive that even he wasn’t allowed to know… well, he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t worry him.

Feixiao’s silence is deafening. Even the cool breeze surrounding them in the gardens seemed cacophonous compared to the tense atmosphere. A look of determination filled the General’s features, tipsy demeanor seemingly gone, her voice quiet as she speaks. 

“Jiaoqiu,” she begins, “while I still can’t tell you who this person is, I promise they are trustworthy.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she affirms, words as steady as they could be with a good amount of alcohol in her system. A sigh from Jiaoqiu is all she hears in response.

“Alright, General,” he shrugs, “I’ll trust you. I can’t change your mind with this, but you know it’s my duty to vet anyone who might pose a danger to you.”

Another hiccup. “I – if it were a problem, I’d handle it.” “I know, General.” Jiaoqiu rises from his cushion, practiced reflexes fast as he snatches the bottle away from her wobbly hands. “And no more of this. You’ve hardly had anything to eat to offset the effects. What would your guest think seeing the Lacking General lacking in cognition?” Before Feixiao can offer another rebuttal, her phone dings, signaling that Jiaoqiu’s personal assistant was there to escort him back to his office. 

A moment passes when a familiar mop of brown hair belonging to the assistant appears at the entrance; a demure and older foxian who dutifully performed her tasks as Jiaoqiu’s eyes. Feixiao nods in the assistant’s direction before guiding Jiaoqiu to the woman. 

Despite her blurry vision and lingering effects of the wine, she calls out his name before he fully leaves the garden.

“…thank you for looking out for me,” she speaks gently, teal eyes shining with ingenuity and determination. Hidden words unspoken as the pink foxian smiles over his shoulder.

I’ll find a way to cure you, Jiaoqiu. That’s a promise I vow to keep.

────────────

“What strange eyes. Two different colors? Perhaps they’re blind in one of them?”

“Sure, they have heterochromia but have you seen the fact they have no tail? Quite odd. Maybe they were another foxian slave of the borisin.”

The cacophony of voices and whispers as you navigated the confusing streets of the Luofu hardly bothered you. The most pressing concern was ensuring that your directions were accurate, concise, and most of all: timely. Curse your greenhorn lab assistant. Still, you couldn’t quite blame him after all; he was used to the monochromatic layout of Herta’s Space Station and not any of the Xianzhou ships.

Still, it was bothersome to be guided to the Luofu instead of your usual meeting place at Feixiao’s headquarters on the Yaoqing. It was no one’s fault that the Merlin’s Claw had several business meetings with the General of the Luofu.

Not to mention… her incredibly reckless, idiotic, and ridiculous stunt she pulled with the borisin takeover three months ago. You hadn’t seen your younger sister in six months and wanted to strangle her, embrace her, strangle her again, and then revive her just to tell her how stupid she’d been.

A throbbing headache pounds in your temples, a frown twisting your lips. Glancing at the paper in your hand and peering up at the port, you notice that your destination is up ahead. The Seat of Divine Foresight… a rather humorous name for the notoriously lazy General Jing Yuan. You suppose your fellow colleagues in the Genius Society also belonged to eccentric corners of the galaxy.

Approaching the starskiff port, you see no Cloud Knight waiting to escort you to the general’s office. Gazing around, the corner of your vision notices a brief haze of purples and deep blues.

“Excuse me,” you walk up to the figure, a tall man who towers over you, leaning against the side of an empty building, “do you know where any Cloud Knights are currently stationed?”

“...”

The man’s opaque eyes peer down at you, a small scowl that would’ve sent chills down any other person’s spine. Gray strands of hair peek out from under his hood and with arms crossed, he quickly resumes – er, brooding by himself in the corner.

Alright, then.

“Sir,” you speak, tone a bit louder, “I asked you a question.”

A deep, rumbling voice causes your ears to twitch when the man finally responds. “If you are looking for a Cloud Knight, then speak to a Cloud Knight.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes. What a lovely first impression of the people on the Luofu, you muse. But, you quickly shake those thoughts aside. Perhaps he wasn’t keen on speaking to you due to reasons he may have against foxians, or maybe your general lack of socialization was to blame. After all, you were a researcher who spent most of their time holed up in a lab; your people skills and social cues weren’t always the best.

“Fine. Apologies for bothering you, then.”

As your back quickly led further and further out of the assassin’s sight, something tells him to take one more glance at you. Additionally, a soft breeze passes by that carries your scent: a familiar scent that belonged to a certain someone he worked for. 

A lack of a tail, similar foxian appearance… he understood now.

“Wait.”

Keen ears pick up his voice from a brief distance and you turn around hesitantly. He approaches you in long, even strides before his face softens imperceptibly. 

“I can escort you to your meeting.” “You know who I am?”

A hum of acknowledgement.

“Alright. Well, thank you. Then… may I know your name?”

“....Moze.”

────────────

As promised, Moze and two Cloud Knights escort you to a small, private office off to the side within the Seat of Divine Foresight. It isn’t long after the doors close before a mass of pearly white hair obscures your vision. A tight embrace nearly knocks the wind out of you as Feixiao picks you up in an excited hug and spins you around the room.

“Aeons I missed you!” your sister exclaims, nuzzling the side of her face against your own as she’s almost hesitant to let go.

You sigh half-heartedly, fighting the smile on your face. She’d always been the touchier and more expressive of the two of you. “I missed you too, Saran.”

After a brief catching up, Feixiao hands you a copy of medical records that has sat in her care for months. You glance over the contents, ears drooping as each word, each sentence brings an empathic pain to your chest. 

“And this belongs to your retainer, yes?”

Feixiao nods. “Jiaoqiu, yes. He took the brunt of the borisin jailbreak. As you can see…” she trails off, reluctant to recall the events of three months ago, “...he’s not in great shape. The road to his recovery is a long one and he’s too stubborn to admit that anything is wrong.”

“So,” you begin, “he’s the patient you’re hoping I can treat. With all due respect, what makes you think he’d be willing to accept my help? The texts and reports are just as you said: he’s too stubborn to ask for help or admit that anything is seriously wrong.”

“Just call it a… promise.” Her familiar words rang through your brain; the same exact phrase was written to you when she’d first reached out to you for help.

Strong, calloused hands grip your shoulders. “You’re a member of the Genius Society. With your intelligence and history of biomedical breakthroughs, I have faith in my jiě jie to help.”

“He has so much to live for, and I don’t want him to continue throwing his life away,” she adds, her voice a strained whisper. 

Despite your credentials as a Genius Society member, you’d only joined them out of them pressuring you. After escaping the slave camps on Koolur, you and Feixiao were separated after that fateful “shooting star,” and therefore, followed different paths. You’d come across a mentor who showed you how to read, write, learn the common galactic language, and helped nurture your love of knowledge. Decades passed before you were proficient enough to work independently of your late mentor’s guidance. 

Without ever meeting Jiaoqiu, you could tell how much your sister valued her retainer, valued her close relationships. You two were alike in both holding on to loved ones and throwing your own lives away for the greater good.

“Saran – ” you start. You shake off what you’re about to say; it’s no use beginning a lecture that has no point in even starting.

One more somber glance at the medical report in your hand is enough to determine an answer. You made no promises, but you could try.

Trying is all you could do.

“I’ll do it. When will I meet him?”

────────────

“Well, even if my efforts can’t fully restore your eyesight, my goal is to get you to a place where you can see things as best as you can,” you hum, jotting down final notes on your clipboard. “Maybe a pair of exceptionally strong eyeglasses can help, should we get to that point.”

You smile to yourself on instinct. When you peer up to the patient in front of you, Jiaoqiu does not respond, but simply smiles in contentment. These past few weeks of treating him and you’d grown tired of how nonchalant he appeared about his condition. Not only was he “unbothered” by your apparent insistence to help his condition, it was quite clear that he was, in fact, quite against having another person waste their time and resources on him.

I’ve made my decision and am now paying the price for it. I have no regrets. But, if you still insist on doing this, then I suppose I understand. General Feixiao’s orders are absolute, after all.

Those were some of his first words to you at your initial meeting with him. Now, weeks later, he's opened up with endearing facts about his former cooking skills, his medicinal knowledge, and even his adjustment to having almost full blindness. In a way, the foxian was charming enough. Being as introverted as you were, you found it natural to hold a conversation with him.

Continuing to stir the concoction of chemicals on your table, you decide to make small talk to ease the silence. “You know, I’m actually older than I look.” 

You groan at the memory you endured outside of the Alchemy Commission the other day. “In fact, some short-life kids approached me with some leftover candy and referred to me as “Granny.” It was a bit jarring,” you chuckle.

A chuckle. “Is that so? You sound quite young to me. If I may be so bold, how old are you?”

When you give him an age, he merely hums. You continue sharing tailored details of your past, of your time in the Genius Society, as an independent biotech researcher, and of your unusual foxian traits.

“You certainly are sharing quite a bit of yourself with me, considering that you haven’t known me long and that I’m technically your patient,” he chuckles.

You don’t answer right away, a forlorn expression paints itself onto your face. You study the vials in front of you before quietly responding. “No one has ever cared or taken the time to listen.” Though he cannot see your face, the tone of your voice twists at something inside of him. He offers you a genuine smile, hoping all the while that his expression can convey what words cannot. 

You bite your lip out of nervousness.

“Did she —,” you begin, hesitant, “did General Feixiao inform you of who I was?”

Long-life species wearing glasses wasn’t usually unheard of unless it was cosmetic, or in some cases, congenital. In the case of foxians, strong vision was often a common point of pride that they could all find in common. You become distinctly aware of your lack of tail; a point of pride in many foxians. Despite well over a century of acclimating to the odd stares of citizens — not just your tail, but your heterochromatic eye colors too — it became a mere thought that drifted in the wind.

Perhaps you and Jiaoqiu… could have something in common.

Dragged out of your very brief thoughts, a chuckle reverberates deep in the pink foxian’s chest. “Yes?” He tilts his head on instinct, confusion lacing his tone. “The General assigned me a scientist, one of the best in the Xianzhou, to help with the promise she made for me.”

You let out a nearly inaudible sigh. “Jiaoqiu…. The truth is — the real truth is that I am General Feixiao’s sister.”

Hesitantly, you peer up at his face as he sits motionless on your exam table. His jaw slackens, face unreadable as the cogs in his head turn. A small swish of his tail is the only indicator you have that he hasn’t passed out.

“Please say something,” you murmur, deciding to avoid looking in his direction and instead, busying yourself with your chemicals again. When time continues to tick by, eternally slow, you let out a deep sigh. Your ears perk at a brief laugh behind you.

“If you sigh any harder, I might just get blown away.”

Setting aside the herbs you were crushing, you face his direction once again. “Does this… change anything?”

“Hm? Would it change anything for you?”

Another small sigh. “You really do have a way with being cheeky and annoying, don’t you? This has to be the twentieth time we’ve known each other where you answer a question with a question.” Your tone is light, joking. “Jiaoqiu,” you continue,”no, it doesn’t change anything for me. I only wanted to determine if you’d think of me differently.”

Before he can respond, you clarify. “Feixiao hasn’t made my existence public out of fear any enemies could take advantage of it and use it against her. And although she used to insist that she could take any enemy that comes her way if it meant protecting me, it was mostly my idea that I was kept out of the public eye. Besides that, she is a general, and I’m a scientist. We both have different life paths after we were separated as children.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t respond, choosing his words carefully. He reaches out his hand gingerly as if asking for something. “May I?”

Confused, you saunter closer to where his legs are swung over the examination table so that you are standing in between his legs. Once he senses your presence within a reasonable distance, he slowly raises his hands to cup your cheeks. The action causes warmth to flow through your face, eyes widening at his actions. A part of you flinches out of reflex, out of a traumatic memory in which you used to associate touch with negativity, but the tenderness in which the pink-haired man is using almost makes you want to cry.

Delicate, long fingers trace up your cheekbones, to your eyes, lashes, nose… he slowly memorizes the features of your face before sliding up to the fluffy ears on your head. When he hears a sharp, shaky intake of your breath, he reaches back down to the area just below your eyes, lightly thumbing away tears that threaten to spill over.

Another small smile. “Yep, similar to the General’s.” A pause. “The skin under your eyes feels thin. Just how long have you been staying up to help find a fix for my eyes?”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “However long I have to stay up.” A tsk reaches your ears as he continues to caress your face. 

“You asked me if I thought any differently of you… and the truth is, I do.” The corners of his lips frown. “But not because of General Feixiao, or because you have an obligation to “cure” me, but because these past five weeks I've gotten to know an incredibly kind, selfless, and enticing individual.”

A lifetime of torture, betrayal, hardship, and isolation has only made you doubtful of others. Your mentor was dead alongside countless people you used to call friends had passed long before you. You understood grief all too well: the looming threat of Feixiao's curse, of losing her too. You stare deeply into his face, studying the contortions and trying desperately to make out any sort of hidden meaning behind his words. His hands fall back into his lap. In spite of your best judgment, a very touch-starved part of yourself immediately misses his skin on yours.

“So, thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” You blink, confusion lacing your tone. Before you can overthink and retort that you hadn’t made much progress in his vision, Jiaoqiu responds with a short nod. “You have allowed me to feel something other than pain and nightmares.” He bites his lip, hesitating sharing his insecurities with anyone. “That has only ever been accomplished through the use of spicy foods. After my time in the endless throes of war, I thought I’d never have true feelings for anything ever again.”

Blinking rapidly, you fail to notice the nervous swaying of Jiaoqiu’s tail behind him.

He extends his hands again, voice soft as he nearly whispers. “May I?”

You guide his hands back up to your face but he shakes his head no. Instead, he lets one of your hands drop and embraces your hand with both of his. Gingerly, he lifts your hand up to the featherlight touch of his lips before the moment is gone as quickly as it arrived.

The pink-haired healer may not have found a way to heal himself, but he’s sure that in time, your presence will give him the budding hope he’s been yearning for his whole life.

Smiling up in your direction, he gives you gratitude once more for reviving the dead parts of his shattered heart – one fragment, one day at a time.

“Thank you.”

[cupidkenji]

ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves -  I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet. 

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach.  Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good. 

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask. 

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis. 

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.” 

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist. 

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents. 

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him. 

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it��s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out. 

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?” 

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.” 

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it. 

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up. 

No, it wasn’t. 

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” 

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room. 

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.” 

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job. 

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost. 

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder. 

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.” 

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.” 

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.” 

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

– 

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling. 

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed. 

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team. 

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.” 

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.” 

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.” 

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.” 

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief. 

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human. 

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours. 

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place. 

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass. 

“I’m Matthew.” 

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area. 

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink. 

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.” 

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.” 

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed. 

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored. 

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.” 

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.” 

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core. 

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke. 

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.” 

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately. 

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless. 

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden. 

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

 “He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if  I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past. 

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.” 

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes. 

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought. 

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive. 

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own. 

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car. 

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car. 

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to. 

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you. 

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels. 

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

[pelova4president]

Magic Euros II

Leah Williamson x Wife!Reader

Magic Euros I

summary~ Your kids are absolute menaces, but how could they not, they’re Williamson’s and are around your wife’s crazy teammates all the time.

Your kids are little monsters and there is nothing you could do about it. James seemed to be pretty sweet and shy but how older he got the more he acted like his naughty aunties. Alice really wasn’t any good from the moment she was born. Your daughter was just as naughty as Katie, Vic and Kyra. They tried to involve Alice in all their pranks in the hopes that no one would blame them but instead the innocent two year old.

There were times their plan would work and your daughter got put in time-out or nothing would happen because ‘you got no proof’. But other times, like when they had Alice to hide Lessi’s shoes, she told on them after you threatened to take the toddlers iPad away. “Alice! Why’d you have to tell on us?” Victoria crouched down to your daughter. “B-but iPad” the girl defended herself. You laughed at that and Kyra rolled her eyes annoyed. “Why did you bring an iPad addict into the world?” the Aussie sighed.

And while Alice was influenced by the bad kids, James loved his sweet auntie Lotte. They had a very special and cute bond. Lotte loved to babysit him whenever you had to make time for Alice’s swimming lessons. He always came back from Lotte’s house with so much to tell but is so tired he always falls asleep halfway through his story. The boy wanted to be just like her. He tried to play footie like her, wanted to cook like her and he even started to dress like her.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

Beth and Viv loved to babysit them. They took the kids to all kinds of playgrounds and their dogs, Myle and Rona are their favourite. Myle was still very hyper and the mini Leah’s are too so they’d both end up asleep after a very busy day. Almost always James and Alice and up in Myle’s bed with Myle’s on the ground next to them.

Jamie and Al loved to watch their mummy play footie in the summer, the winter was less fun. You went to games as that is your job, you needed to be up to date and what better way to do that watching your wife play live. Taking the toddlers with you, you sat in the friends and family section. The kids were good almost the whole game. Well that was until it starting pouring down. The London weather decided to show up and everyone got absolutely soaked.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

When the girls had to play friendlies in Portugal you took the kids with you. You would have a little vacation and free babysitters, why wouldn’t you go.

The flight to the sunny Portugal was hectic though. Arriving at the airport, James was asleep but the hyper girl you had in your arms definitely wasn’t. “Calm down Al, you’ll see your aunties in a bit.” Leah tried to calm her down but that only mad her more hyper. “Where’s auntie Vicky! And Kyky oh- and Katie and and Lessi?” she tried to wiggle her way out of your grasp. You put her on the ground and she ran around in search for the Arsenal girls.

“We should’ve just bought her that kidsbelt, that way she wouldn’t be running around like this.” Leah sighed already regretting the decision to bring the kids.

“Mommy, Mama! KyKy’s here!” you heard your little girl scream through the airport. “That’s awesome sweetie, can you find the others too?” you asked her, trying to distract her with something.

After a few minutes of Alice running around the airport in the hopes of getting her tired for the flight, she found the rest of the team. “Mama look! Auntie Vicky’s here too!” she dragged you to the Dutchie. “Oh god help me Vic, ze is al de hele dag zo en ze wordt maar niet moe” (Oh god help me Vic, she has been like this the whole day and she isn’t getting tired.) you hugged your friend. Vicky laughed at your tired state, “Dat had ik niet gedacht, je ziet er zo energiek uit!” (I wouldn’t of thought, you look so energetic!) she said sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her and sighed.

You walked over to your wife and sleeping son. “Leah, i don’t know why we thought this was a good idea, Alice is already being a menace to society. Think of what she can do when she’s with those other devils for more than a few hours.” you whisper to her.

Lotte came walking over to the two of you. “How are the little monsters doing?” she asked looking at Alice who was being thrown into the air by Kyra. “Well one of the two is sleeping like an angel and the other is… well, not.” Leah told her. James woke up hearing his favourite auntie. “Lotte!” he said tiredly, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey grote jongen, you’re awake.” she took him out of the arms of your wife.

You tried to learn the kids some Dutch but that was hard since they were so young and they almost only spoke English. Vic, Viv and Lotte had tried to learn the kids some but it didn’t really stick. The only thing they really remembered was ‘stomkop’ which means stupid so it wasn’t really in your favour.

Walking into the plane, without kids since they chose their aunties over you and their other mom, you sat next to Leah. Kyra and Alice sat in front of you and Lotte and James next to you. You were not even off the ground when you heard the duo in front of you and your wife snore.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

When the team finally landed both of your kids were awake. Leah took the suitcases and bags to the teambus and you kept your eyes on the kids. Vic placed Al on her big suitcase and rolled the toddler to the parking lot. She was trying to teach her some Dutch but her effort was futile. “So kleine, say ‘ik hou meer van tante Vic dan van mijn mama’s’” (So little one, say ‘i love auntie Vic more than my mommy’s’) the midfielder tried. But the only thing coming out of the toddlers mouth was some gibberish.

A blonde forward approached the girls, “You’ve had her for a while now, she needs some quality time with her favourite auntie now.” Alessia grabbed to girl from Victoria’s suitcase. “You love auntie Lessi more right Ali?” Alessia said tickling your daughter.

Walking into the bus the naughty toddler took Alessia’s Prada glasses and put them on. “Look! I’m auntie Less!” she said posing like Alessia. Katie looked over and began laughing. “She really does look like you now, face all serious. Alice you look just like grumpy Lessi!” the Irish woman commented.

alessiarusso99 posted on their story

Lina arrived later with her daughter Lo. Your kids loved to play together and try to trick Katie. Lo would tell Katie to walk her to the bathroom, where Alice and James would wait for her. “What can i help you with kid?” Katie asked the mini Lina. They would open the door and your kids attacked her. They threw water on her and the three of them ran away together.

“Lina Lina! Katie’s mad!” James ran towards the Swede. Lina would fake her confusion, “Why would Katie be angry pojke?”. The three kids looked at eachother, Alice pointed to Lo who had to explain everything.

Katie came running into the room with three buckets of water. “I’m gonna get ya!” she yelled chasing the screaming toddlers.

stinablackstenius posted on their story

leahwilliamsonn

liked by daniellevddonk and 318.827 others

chillin’ it out

comments

jillroord coolest kids out there 😎

lucybronze i’ll take the kids to the chillest place, next week they’re coming to barca

↳ keirawalsh i back that

lottewubbenmoy Jamie boy with the coolest sunnies

kyracooneyx yeahh the weirdooss

↳ victoriapelova you’re the biggest weirdo

alessiarusso99 ali looks too cute!!

↳ y/nwilliamson you out her in that dress and did her hair, how could she not

barcafemfam i love the arsenal family smm

W0s012 they’re literally mini Leah’s and y/n’s

When you got back from Portugal you went to dinner with your parents and Leah’s since they were in London for a few days. You had to leave the kids with Beth and Viv for the night but they didn’t mind, they loved kids.

Alice played with Myle and got her to play dead, well the toddler had to push her down to get her to play dead but it kind of worked. “Piew!” Alice yelled with her pistol fingers pointing at the puppy. “Myleee! You need to play dead! Lie downnn” she complained. The dog however had other plans and sprung on the little girl and started licking her face. “Bad doggy!” she giggled pushing Myle down on the couch and trying again. “Piew!” she yelled. Myle didn’t move a muscle so she just pushed the puppy down.

Viv saw the whole scene play out in front of her and laughed, having filmed the whole thing.

And while all of that was going on, James was vacuuming the couple’s house. “What’re you doing little guy?” Beth asked the boy. “Cleaning Auntie Viv and yours house!” he said excited. The vacuum wasn’t on but Beth didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “So sweet of you. Hard workers deserve a snack break right?” Beth ruffled his hair and placed a cookie in his hands.

viviannemiedema posted on their story

Keira and Lucy kept their promise and invited you, Leah and the kids to Barcelona. Keira drove to the airport to pick you up. Alice and James attacked Keira immediately. “Oh my god! Al, Jamie please, Auntie Kei still needs to drive us.” Leah took the kids off her bestfriend. “Well hello to you too.” the midfielder laughed.

Lucy awaited you at their door. “Lucy!” the kids yelled, running out of the car and into the defender’s arms. “Hey monsters!” she hugged them. “Silly Lucy, i’m not a monster.” James laughed at his auntie.

The kids got to see the Barcelona training ground and even got to watch a game. Ingrid and Mapi, who they already knew, were waiting for the kids. The kids ran onto the field and into the arms of the Barcelona couple. “We’ve missed you so much!” Ingrid yelled, picking both kids up and squeezing them. Mapi spun James around and played goalie when Alice was taking penalties. “You’re too good niña!” Mapi said picking your daughter up and placing her on her back and running around the field.

Leah and you always enjoy your time in Barcelona, the people there were like family and the city was beautiful. The weather was nice, well it mostly was and if it was raining it would clear up quickly.

Lucy and Keira made forts with the kids, danced with them in the rain, even though you said they shouldn’t because they’d get sick. And Lucy got James to hug a tree. “Trees deserve love too Jamie. It’s mean to kick them. You don’t like it when someone kicks you, go give the tree a hug.” the dark haired woman said after catching James kicking a tree in the park. “I’ll say sorry to the tree.” James said and ran through the park, giving the biggest hug as an apology. Lucy giggled at the scene in front of her. James really had a good heart and he did look like Lotte, like a lot.

lucybronze, keirawalsh

liked by aitanabonmati and 291.826 others

fun days with these kids

comments

lauren_hemp why is Jamie hugging a tree

ingrid_engen those samba’s are the cutest!

↳ marialeonn16 you bought them

↳ ingrid_engen they’re still cute though

victoriapelova why can they dance in the rain but i can’t?

↳ kyracooneyx yeah actually this is unfair

lj10 the coolest kids 😎

↳ lucybronze cooler than me?

↳ lj10 just a little bit

Coming back from the sunny Barcelona it was time for Alice’s first football training. James wasn’t really interested in football, only when auntie Lotte was playing. Alice loved to kick a ball around, she needed something to release all her energy.

Leah had been beyond excited to get her to play footie. They picked the shoes out together and bought her training kit. “You like these boots Ali?” Leah asked, picking out the shoes she liked the most. Alice just nodded. She wasn’t really interested in the boots, looking at the poster of one of her aunties in the store. “Look mummy, that’s auntie Lessi!” she pointed at the big poster next to the Adidas boots. “I want the same boots as Lessi!” the little girl insisted.

“Alice, that’s the wrong section. Look over here, you like these pink ones?” Leah said pointing towards the Nike boots. “No mummy! I want Lessi boots.” she stomped.

And that’s how your daughter came home with shiny silver Adidas boots.

Leah drove her to training, standing next to the field and watching your daughter play with other girls her age. Leah would never say it but seeing her little girl play football made her emotional. Alice was happy, making friends and even scoring. “She’s supposed to be a defender.” Leah sighed, hugging you from behind. “She’s an adidas girl and a striker but she plays football.” you said looking at your wife and kissing her on the lips. “You’re right, she’s a footballer.” Leah hummed.

leahwilliamsonn posted on their story

A/N not my best but i pulled through. I still have writers block though :(

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Ok if they do L.A.W two there should be another editorial mandate forcing them to do stupid shit like not using the current characterizations of the charlton characters while still making them have it take place in current continuity because I want Kupperberg Peacemaker and Rick Veitch Vic to have to get along for a entire miniseries

[maxiscoolongg]

PATRICK HOCKSETTER HEADCANNONS

——

☆ Lets bfr yall probably became friends because you were tutoring him on math because he is failing in school😭😭

★ like the teacher would pull you and Patrick aside after class and be like "Y/n you are going to be tutoring Patrick" you were stuned tbh

☆ Patrick however was really happy or something. When you guys were tutoring he kept asking questions about you.

★ You guys got surprisingly close.

☆ He gives you so much nicknames😭 (Ex: doll, dollface, pretty, darling, peaches)

★ he is really affectionate like REALLY affectionate.

——

You were at your locker getting your books for next period until you felt to hands go into your hoops of your shorts you giggled a little as you said "Hello pat" you said sweetly. That same sweet voic that made him fall in love with you "Hey dollface, I was thinking we watch a movie at your house?" He asked as his hands traveled to your waist as his head went onto your shoulder as you looked at him "Mm.. Maybe, I have dance after school" you said as you turned around

"Awh, come one can't you just skip one class, prettyface" He said flirty "I guess I can, but if my mom yells at me I will blame you" You said smiling a tiny bit as he smirked.

——

☆ He was the one who confessed to you for sure.

★ he LOVES watching horror movies.

☆ He for sure loves scream (Pretened it was released then)

★ Loves the way you get closer to him everytime a murder scene pops up

☆ If you don't flinch he love if you rant about it.

——

You guys were watching a movie and a murder scene popped up, he looked at you a little as you got closer in fear he watched as your brows came together as the character made a stupid decision "Oh my God!- she is so stupid! Why wouldn't she run the other way!" You yelled as he chuckled a little. He ADORED the way you ranted about movies he loves it so much.

——

★ Loves your lips, thighs, waist, ass,

☆ Definitely whispers stuff in your ear during school like ge would wishper stuff to make you laugh or to make you flustered

★ Your scared of the Bowers gang. Without a doubt, they are nice to you (Vic is the nicest) but still. You are friends with the losers and the keep telling you about them but you say "They're nice to me though!"

☆ Patrick definitely stalks you and takes pictures without permission. He loves the pictures of you drawing in class,

——

YANDERE PATRICK HC

♡ you thought the relationship was all lovey dovey? No way.

♥︎ this man is so fucking overprotective, to the point its not even funny anymore

♡ if your asking me bro probably started stalking you in the 6th grade💀🙏🏻

♥︎ anyway, he probably planned the whole tutoring thing cause believe it or not he is actually probably really smart.

♡ teachers are SCARED of patrick, bro can practically get anything he wants so be careful my guy.

♥︎ If your hanging out with one of friends? Nope. Not any more! Patrick can keep you company,

♡ loves and I mean LOVES when he takes photos of you when you don't know, like bro will definitely pull a Johnathan byers and take photos of you changing. Not even kidding.

——

"I'm going to bed night ma!" You said to your mom as you gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked in your room closing the door behind you as you walked to your closet and took off your top to grab a pajama shirt

"God.." Patrick whispered from outside of your window, he was far but not the far, he was far enough you couldn't see him. He took a quick photo and almost chocked on his breath when he saw you bare naked. "Fucking gorgeous, darling" he whispered to himself but then again towards you

——

♥︎ bro is a sneaky mother fucker, steals everything.

♡ think a bracelet of yours looks nice? His now. No he doesn't do it because he wants it, he did it because he thinks you looked good wearing it and now he wants it so he can have a piece of you on him.

(EDITED March, 31st 2023.)

THATS ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[mbappebby]

Sometimes you just need your brother || Pt.2

Summary: After finding comfort in her brother’s place, it just seems too good to be true when her father knocks the door….

Makayla Verstappen (OC) x f1 grid

Series

Makayla had fallen asleep with her head rested on Max’s chest. Max didn’t notice until he looked down and seen his little sister asleep.

The 3 other drivers were still at his apartment, Kelly and Penelope were due to come back any moment and that’s when Daniel, Charles and Lando would leave.

“I can’t believe he actually kicked her out.” Max said as the 3 of them looked up at him. “It’s awful, I really don’t understand him” Daniel said.

“She’s only 16 like,” Lando added. “Does he know she’s here?” Charles asked. “Probably, she can only go either me or Vic” Max told him.“You think he’s going to try and take her back?” Lando asked.

“I’m not letting him, I know how he’s been treating her and I’m not letting her go through that anymore” Max added as the door opened.

“Maxie!” Penelope exclaimed as she made her way towards him but stopped when she noticed Makayla there. “What’s KayKay doing here?” Penelope asked.

“I’ll tell you everything later okay? Just keep the noise down as she’s asleep” Max said as she nodded before running back to Kelly.

“We better be going, message any of us Max to update us. Remember we are here to help, Mack is like a sister to us as well” Daniel said.

Max moved his sister‘s head in his chest and onto a pillow before he walked to the door with his 3 fellow drivers. “Thanks guys, means a lot” Max said before bidding goodbye to them.

“Is she okay?” Kelly asked referring to Makayla. “Dad kicked her out, she used all her savings to get a flight over here” Max said. “He kicked her out? Who would that?!” Kelly replied.

“Him apparently, you okay with her staying with us for awhile? I know P loves her anyways” Max asked. “You don’t need to ask, she’s your sister and I know P loves her too” Kelly said with a smile.

“Thank you” Max added.

//

Makayla had woken up to see that she had fallen asleep on the sofa. “Hey sleepyhead” Max joked seeing his sister finally awake. “Shut up, I was tried” Makayla mumbled.

“Is KayKay awake?!” Penelope shouted and when she seen the girl awake she ran and jumped on the sofa with her. “Hey P!” Makayla said as she tickled the young girl.

“KayKay! Stop!!” Penelope giggled as she tried to get out of her grip. Kelly sat down by Max, the two had smiles on their faces seeing the two girls together.

“Hey Kel, sorry didn’t see you there” Makayla said. “It’s alright, happy to see you smiling Mack” Kelly replied with a smile. “Mummy! Can Kay take me to the beach?” Penelope asked.

Makayla gave her older brother a certain look, that he knew he couldn’t say no to. “I hate when you do that look, just be careful you two okay? Be back before it’s gets dark” Max told them as Penelope cheered and ran to get her coat.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Makayla asked, mainly directing the question to Kelly. “Mack, you I trust you with P. How many times have you watched her before this?” Kelly said.

“Just making double sure. Thank you, we won’t be long!” Makayla said as she got ready for the couple watched the two girls leave the apartment.

“I hate how he’s made her think she isn’t allowed to do or go anywhere..” Max mumbled. “She’ll be alright, Mack is a strong girl. We just need to make sure he stays away from her and not try and take her back” Kelly said.

//

makaylaverstappen

Liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and 227,629 others

makaylaverstappen: P💗

view all 2,527 comments

user16 Aww so cute!

user19 I adore their relationship!!🥰

user93 So cuteeeee

kellypiquet She loves you so much💗

makaylaverstappen I love her more💗

user72 Awhhh!

user99 P loves Mack so much🥹

user13 💗💗💗

user4 Adore them so much!!🥹💗

maxverstappen1 She likes u more than me!

makaylaverstappen well obviously😌

maxverstappen1 🙄

user63 lol Max🤣

user02 Max and Makayla >>

//

Makayla and Penelope made their way back to the apartment, the young girl ran to her mother while Makayla followed behind her after taking her shoes and coat off.

“I want KayKay to take me to bed!” She heard Penelope said as she entered the room. “I’ll do it Kel, c’mon P! Let’s finish that book off we were reading!” Makayla said as Penelope jumped in her arms as she carried her to her room.

Max and Kelly smiled at the pair before quietly following them and stood by the door watching the both girls. Makayla finished reading before kissing Penelope’s forehead and leaving to door to be greeted by the couple.

“Watching us were you?” Makayla joked as the three made their way back to the living room. “You are so good with her, she adores you” Kelly said. “I love her” Makayla replied with a smile.

The three of them started to watch a bit of TV, Makayla was on her phone a few times before it was starting to get late and they was about to make their way to bed, but there was a knock on the door..

“Makayla! I know you’re in there, you better come here before I phone the police!” They heard Jos shout.

The girl looked at her older brother with fear on her face, how was she going to get out of this? Kelly came over and pulled her into a hug, before Max started to make his way towards the door.

“Makayla, get here now!” Jos shouted.