i forgot how good it was to have her on my screen every week

settle down | (m)

• pairing: min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi
• genre/warnings: smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers
• words: 14,930
→summary: An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…
• note. this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

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Talks Machina (Episode 88 spoilers!)

Highlights from this week’s episode:

  • This week’s pre-show message from Denise: “Brian is a puppet and I’m pulling the strings.”
  • Overwatch mention! Brian shout-outs D.Va, Marisha’s all about Symmetra, Matt breaks out the McCree voice.
  • 1PM Saturday, much of CR will be playing Mansions of Madness on the stream, and Matt will be guesting on a show at 11AM as well.
  • Brian: Our special guest, Gil Ramirez. Marisha: (whispers) Don’t fuck us, Gil.
  • Gil was helping out in the twitch chat from episode one. He’s also been smithing for sixteen years!
  • Gil uses liquid mercury to balance his steel dice. Travis: …you just have liquid mercury hanging around?
  • Gil and Taliesin both have a periodic table collection.
  • Gil takes off his button-down to reveal a t-shirt that just reads “Don’t fuck me, Gil.” with “Dammit Gil!” on the back.
  • Gil pulls out cards that read “Malks Tachina” that are all sick burns on Brian.
  • 4:46:50 total gameplay time last week. VM had 936 total HP at the start of the kraken battle, ended with 70 total HP.
  • A fan points out the similarities between the kraken fight and the Kobayashi Maru in Star Trek–an unwinnable fight to see how you do under great pressure. Marisha points out that nobody is expected to do the Aramente alone, but they’re never told that explicitly, so Keyleth’s been figuring that out, and that was one of the big lessons here. When she decided to planeshift out, she had to trust that Grog was going to finish it without her. She’s been moving beyond her previous urge to be self-sacrificial.
  • Matt points out that if Keyleth had stayed, Grog probably would’ve stayed until the end, too, and things would’ve gone a lot worse.
  • Matt wasn’t playing the kraken to full intelligence (his argument being that the rules-as-written version is better suited to being a full-arc villain kind of deal), but if they’d decided to talk to it, it probably would’ve stalled long enough to get everyone exactly where it wanted them.
  • Travis on Tary not using Luck to reroll: Either he is the most genius, maniacal character in a long-running arc… or he just rolled shitty dice because Gil fucked him.
  • Keyleth would’ve rather failed the Aramente than kill the kraken or lose her party.
  • A question on screen flashes twice. Laura (who isn’t even on the show this week) immediately tweets “Two flashes!! Free Denise.”
  • Grog was trying to abide by Keyleth’s rules of not killing the thing, but his whole priority was getting Vax out, because he realized that not getting him out while he was unconscious might’ve meant losing his body for good. Matt points out that it worked out well that it was always Grog getting eaten, because he was more likely than most of the other party members to deal enough damage to get out.
  • Why didn’t the water ashari let Korren and Keyleth know Vilya was suspected dead? Matt starts to answer, then admits it’s mostly just to maintain narrative drama, because that’s how storytelling works.
  • Gil wonders whether one of the lodestones could be Keyleth’s mom. Marisha: …my mom is octopoo?
  • Grog’s decision on leaving Tary mostly boiled down to “…eh.” Grog didn’t mind too much that Percy made him go back for Tary, because he didn’t feel too strongly about leaving him behind, but there might be consequences once Friends wears off.
  • Keyleth would’ve definitely still planeshifted out if Grog and Vax’s positions had been reversed. She trusted that Vax would’ve managed to get out, too.
  • Travis’ wise words on the Raven Queen: “Didn’t she need the blood jacuzzi to get the thing going?”
  • Travis thinks Grog would be interested in participating in Vax’s ritual.
  • Travis was stoked for Vax to join the Dead Club, but he has no idea how it’s going to go because of the Raven Queen.
  • Matt re: people yelling about revivify/resurrection no matter the outcome: “I… mostly don’t care. I’m still a sensitive boy.”
  • Brian brings back the intro to the first episode, in which Matt points out that this is the continuation of a home-game and number-crunching shouldn’t be the priority. Of course, Critrolestats is an exception: “They keep track of the numbers we like.”
  • Brian: “Discussions are great, and we love talking about the show even if we disagree… but when it gets to be this weird thing where people are… it’s like, guys, you’re kind of embarrassing yourself. Like, give me a break, dad. Maybe intense scrutiny of a D&D game that’s on the internet isn’t the best way to live your life.”
  • Travis: “I’ll never go on [reddit]. It requires reading, right?”
  • Matt thinks the kraken was probably watching the party for a while, and then Tary’s natural one was a focus point. If they hadn’t failed that challenge, they might’ve had to fight it as they were escaping.
  • The one spell Marisha forgot to write down on her spell sheet was Freedom of Movement, which would’ve been incredibly clutch in the fight. Matt forgot about it, too.
  • Matt points out that everyone had an extremely stressful week leading up to that episode. Brian mentions that he’s known everyone for a while, now, and they all generally act the same on-screen as they do off-screen, so they’re not gonna be putting on an act. Sometimes you just get a bit of a slog playing D&D when everyone’s exhausted, but it can still be fun as long as people aren’t going over every decision with a magnifying glass.

After dark:

  • The first shot after the break is just a close-up of Trinket.
  • Matt to Travis, in one of the best out-of-context quotes thus far: “So what you’re saying is that your deviantart is full of vore?”
  • If Grog had an intelligence of 20 for 24 hours, he’d probably go down to Percy’s workshop and build something.
  • Matt ran a session pre-stream that was just Pike and Vax, in which the two of them had to fight a chimera. There was also one that was just Vax, Scanlan, and Pike.
  • If Grog had been left behind and died, Ashley thinks Pike would’ve pulled a Scanlan and left the party, then would’ve gone to go live under the sea until she found him, and would’ve kept his body until she got True Resurrection, “even if it took a hundred years”, so she could bring him back.
  • Matt re: Keyleth being the only one who hasn’t died: “No, there’s a reason for that. Because she’s my fiancee and I give her special treatment.” Marisha: “Don’t say that even in jest!” Matt: “No, if that were true, I wouldn’t sleep on the couch as often.” Marisha: “They’ll believe that, too! They’ll actually think that’s true!”
  • Ten or higher on that saving throw and Grog would’ve died in the kraken. Matt rolled a nine (which is why he tweeted the picture).
  • Marisha’s biggest fear re: ways for her character to die was tripping and falling in lava, which just about happened, so almost anything else would’ve been okay in comparison. Brian: “Keyleth died doing what she loved: a series of errors.” Marisha: “Failing.”
  • Travis’s Xbox gamertag is MeatyAlbatross.

Ever think about being Harry’s date to an award show?

He’s so excited telling you that he’s been invited to the Oscars and that he wants you to come with him. But when you remind him that of course he’s invited, he’s nominated, he just laughs and shakes his head, mumbling, “Oh, right, forgot about tha’.”   

He insists on buying you the prettiest outfit, setting up countless appointments with your favorite designers. And he’d attend every one, showering you with compliments after every change. But you know you’ve got a winner when his jaw unhinges, tongue lolling to the side as he takes in the way the fabric hugs your every curve, the color compliments your skin tone, and how the style is so quintessentially you

In the car, he can’t keep his hands off you, though he’s careful not to muss your hair or smear your makeup. At first, you try to keep him from pawing at you, but you have to admit his blue polka dotted Gucci suit fits him exquisitely, and the way he’s left the top few buttons of the pale blue shirt gaping to give a peek of his strong chest has you swooning. Your resolve melts half way to the theater after you whimper a why and he answers, “I’ve got no control around yeh in this dress, kitten.” So Harry and you take turns placing kisses in concealable spots, delicately slipping fingers beneath clothes to feel each other without ruffling or creasing the fabric. 

But that doesn’t mean the both of you aren’t flushed from exertion when it’s time to exit the car and walk the carpet. 

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Fig chatter! (Q/A)
First off, i just wanna say thank you so much to everyone for all the super nice and encouraging notes! It always makes me to happy to see that my work is making people happy and your notes really help to motivate me to do my best at this comic!

Yep!!! That manga is one of my favorite things in the whole world so it really really influenced my comic.

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I Got You On My Mind [Part 4]

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: After your memory loss, adjusting back to normal life has been difficult. Luckily, Jungkook is always there for you. Still, something seems off about him, and you just can’t understand why.

Word count: 2k words

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

“Oh yeah, I’m being discharged tomorrow,” you told Jungkook, who was pushing your wheelchair through the hospital. He insisted that you needed a change of scenery. “My parents are going to pick me up and drive me back to my apartment.”

“I-I guess it’s too early for the ‘meet the parents’ thing, right?” Jungkook stammered, uncharacteristically nervous. “Unless you want me to. Like, I don’t mind if–”

“Chill, Jungkook,” you laughed, cutting his off his rambling. “I think they’re more worried about my brain damage than any soulmate business.”

“The doctors said you’ll recover your memories though, right?” Jungkook asked, worry lining his words. “Your memory loss won’t be permanent or recurring?”

“They said my memories will come back slowly,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “But most of the time, the memories will have to be triggered by something. They also told me I might have short-term memory issues for the next little while.”

“That seriously sucks,” Jungkook said. “If you need any help with anything, just let me know. I don’t really know how I’d be useful, but don’t hesitate.”

“We’re not in the same department,” you snorted, turning to peer up at your soulmate who was both familiar and foreign in this instant. “This is gonna make school so difficult. I’ve forgotten nearly three months worth of content!”

“Maybe take the semester off?” Jungkook suggested. “Amnesia is a pretty valid reason. Have you talked at all to the university?”

“No,” you groaned, sinking into the wheelchair. “I don’t want to think about responsibilities right now. Just marvelling in the fact I’m still alive and kicking.”

A silence fell between you and Jungkook as he pushed you through a more crowded area of the hospital. You noticed a few younger visitors visibly gape at Jungkook, then glare at you jealously as you rolled by.

You agreed with them–how was Jungkook so damn good-looking? You hit the soulmate jackpot, for sure. Still, even if he looked different, you didn’t doubt that you would like him just the same.

“You know, it’s pretty crazy,” you blurted out unthinkingly. “I’ve been talking to you my entire life, and I always thought meeting you would feel like meeting an old friend. But honestly, you’re a total mystery to me right now. Maybe it’s because of the memory loss, or maybe other people feel this way, too.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Jungkook responded quietly, trying to figure out how to express his thoughts properly. “It’s just…we have an idea of who our soulmate is in our heads. When they’re not exactly that person, it’s kind of confusing.”

“And I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff we still don’t know about each other,” you agreed. “Honestly, I tried to make myself seem a lot better than I am.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jungkook laughed, though it sounded a bit off. You brushed it off as embarrassment. “Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You turned your head and looked up into Jungkook’s eyes. “You couldn’t have disappointed me Jungkook, really. I’m just happy to finally meet you,” you replied, giving him a small smile. “And it’s kinda paradoxical, isn’t it? Disliking your own soulmate. Weren’t we, like, made to like each other?”

“I guess,” Jungkook said, staring ahead unwaveringly. He pushed you down another hallway, which led to the cafeteria. You only knew because of the wafting smell of hearty food was growing stronger by the second. “But nothing’s ever that simple.”

“Don’t I know it,” you sighed, laughing a little in spite of yourself. You turned the corner into the bustling cafeteria, the noise of the crowds deafening compared to the near-silent, depressing halls of the hospital.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Jungkook asked, the heaviness of your conversation vanishing before you could even blink. “I was going to grab something for myself, too.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you agreed. Out of habit, you reached down to pat your pockets for your wallet. “Oh shit, I don’t have any money on me. Don’t worry about it, then.”

“It’s cool, it’ll be my treat,” Jungkook said. When you turned to look at him, he was giving you a lopsided smile.

“Then, is this our first date?” you asked cheekily, delighting in the way Jungkook’s cheek burned. You never expected that a guy like Jungkook, with this terrible fuckboy persona, would be so easily flustered.

“If you want it to be, sure,” Jungkook answered, coughing into his hand awkwardly. You just laughed, and Jungkook pushed you forward wordlessly.

Life at home after getting discharged made staying in the hospital seem like an amusement park. After being sentenced to bedrest by your parents–and having Jieun enforce it with an iron fist–you spent your days bored out of your mind.

In only one week, you had binge-watched three shows, reread all of your course notes (and they didn’t help you remember anything), and read more manga that you had ever read before in your entire life.

You were positively itching to get outside and do something, but what bothered you the most was that you hadn’t talked to Jungkook since your “first date.” When you had gotten home, you jumped to charge your dead phone, which miraculously hadn’t been destroyed in the accident. But when the device finally charged, you soon realized that you had no way of contacting Jungkook.

For some reason, his phone number wasn’t saved in your contacts. Even though Jungkook had said you had met before, apparently you hadn’t exchanged numbers. That seemed very strange to you.

When you asked Jieun about it, she just shrugged the question off. She said your situation was a bit complicated, but that she’d have to leave it up to you and Jungkook. But Jieun did say that she would mention it to him when she saw him at school next.

Sighing, you reached for your phone beside you. It was still early in the morning. Time had lost all meaning to you, since you spent every moment of the day trapped in your apartment. A bit bitterly, you watched your friends’ Snapchat stories and longed to return to normal daily life.

Suddenly, your phone began buzzing. You dropped it in surprise, and it landed on your nose. The impact stung, and you cursed, reaching clumsily for the phone. You saw an unflattering picture of Jieun illuminate the screen. Eventually, you were able to answer.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, rubbing your hand against your sore nose.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid!” Jieun practically screamed. Wincing, you held your phone away from your ear. “I know you shouldn’t be moving around, but I need you to come to the university right now. I’m working on a group project that’s due in two hours and a bunch of our files got corrupted. I have some stuff backed up on my laptop, which I left at home like an idiot!”

“Don’t worry, I can bring it to you,” you reassured quickly. “I won’t fall into traffic on the way there. It’s like a ten minute walk, so don’t worry.”

“Just don’t strain yourself, okay?” Jieun ordered, the panic still evident in her voice. “Don’t go to quickly and look both ways!”

“Hey, only I can make fun of myself,” you quipped, pulling yourself out from underneath the covers. “I’ll be over soon, I just need to get dressed.”

“Okay, see you soon. Thank you so much, Y/N,” Jieun said, and the both of you said your goodbyes before you disconnected the call.

You glanced down at your pyjama bottoms and at the thick cast over your right leg. Changing pants would be a battle for another day. Unsteadily, you stood up and balanced your weight on your unbroken leg. You reached for the crutches leaning against the wall beside you and tucked them underneath your arms.

As quickly as you could (which was not very quick), you had thrown on a clean shirt and a jacket. Your hair was a mess, so you shoved on a beanie to disguise the tangled frizz. With Jieun’s securely laptop in your backpack, you began the trek to school. Suddenly, the journey seemed incredibly long.

When you finally arrived on campus, you were panting lightly and sweating. You made your way into the music building, relatively unfamiliar with its layout. You detached yourself from one of your crutches and reached into your pocket for your phone. Quickly you sent Jieun a text letting you know you were here.

There were a few benches in the foyer, so once you hobbled over to them, you set your bag down lightly and placed your crutches against the benches. Flopping down, you discreetly tried to massage your sore armpits.

But you were glad to finally be out of the apartment. The fresh air made you feel infinitely better.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice called. Your head whipped around in the direction of the voice. Jungkook a few meters away from you, looking as dark and intimidating as ever. His wide-eyed expression kind of ruined the image though. “What are you doing here?”

“Jieun forgot her laptop at home,” you replied, pointing to the backpack at your feet, as Jungkook made his way toward you.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?” he questioned, stopping when he was standing in front of you. You craned your neck to at him properly. “Is it okay for you to be walking around so soon?”

“Please, don’t get started on that,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “My parents and Jieun are unbearable. I’ve been lying in bed doing nothing all week.”

“You know, that honestly sounds like heaven,” Jungkook joked. “I’m so swamped right now. I haven’t slept in days.”

You inspected Jungkook more closely. His eyes were ringed by purplish dark circles, but they were hardly noticeable. How unfair–he always looked good.

“Hey, why haven’t you talked to me all week?” you asked suddenly, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook suspiciously.

“I was meaning to call or text or something, but I don’t have your number,” Jungkook answered sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t know how to ask for it, since you haven’t been around campus lately.”

“Why’s that, though?” you continued, glancing down at your feet. “I mean–you said we met before. Why didn’t we keep in contact?”

“W-well, we did meet, but it wasn’t a proper conversation,” Jungkook explained stutteringly. “It wasn’t under the most normal circumstances, but–”

“Y/N!” Jieun’s loud voice suddenly interrupted. She burst into the foyer, looking absolutely frazzled. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were bloodshot, and you were pretty sure there were coffee stains on her shirt. “Thank god!”

Your friend ran over to you and practically dove for your backpack. She grabbed her laptop and hugged it tightly against her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I made you come all the way here,” Jieun cried, sounding frantic still. “Are you okay? Sore anywhere? Go home right away, okay? You need to rest. And please don’t tell your parents!”

“Oh my god, I’m fine Jieun,” you whined. “I think I can handle walking for, like, two minutes.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen!” Jieun insisted, stomping her foot childishly. “We’re speeding up the recovery process by being extra careful!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Go work on your project and try not to fail.”

“I will,” Jieun replied. “I’ll bring dinner on my way home.” She turned, only spotting Jungkook for the first time. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned slightly. “Jungkook.”

“Jieun,” he replied, just as shortly.

You looked between the two of them, wondering why there was so much tension. It looked like they were having a silent conversation, and you hated not knowing what was going on. You had the suspicion they were hiding something from you–but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what, exactly.

Eventually, Jieun just nodded and strode away, leaving Jungkook with a tight expression. Visibly, you could see Jungkook try to shake away the tension, his jaw unclenching. When he turned back to you, his features were schooled.

“Give me your phone,” Jungkook said, reaching out his hand and smiling softly. “I’ll add my number.”

- Girl in Luv

Okay, so this one was a bit filler-y. Originally I had planned to make this one angsty too, but I figured you guys could use the respite. Also, it would have been like 4k words and it’s like 2:30AM and this girl needs to sleep. Anyway, stay tuned!! Thanks as always for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed. Your replies and reblogs/tags are so cute I read them all 💛💛💛💛

Gorgeous (Bucky x Reader)

Request: I just wanna say i’m so in love with your writings aaaand i was wondering if you could write a bucky x reader and the reader is so friendly with everyone, but she feels so alone because thinks nobody can fall in love with her, but bucky did. one day, she feels so down the she starts crying and saying awful things to herself looking in the mirror, but bucky hears everything and that makes him confess his feelings. i’m sorry it’s too long,. and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay <3  

Bucky x reader imagine where she had really horrible anxiety and he is the only one that can calm her down? would you mind putting some angst in there and like one of the other avengers caused her to panic (she isn’t an avenger) thanks doll ;) xx

Words: 2,917

Warnings: Self shame, anxiety, FLUFF

Tags: @annadier @happelu970 @shamvictoria11 @spookass @pabegay1(message me if you want to be tagged in any fics or if I forgot to tag you! Sometimes I forget, my apologies!

You were no Avenger.

You weren’t as badass as Natasha or Wanda. You weren’t as sarcastic and outgoing as your father, you were just you. You lived with the Avengers because your dad was Tony Stark, the Avengers were like your huge, crazy, loud family. You loved having them as a family, you loved every last bit of it, but sometimes it’s hard not to doubt your looks or skills.

You were clumsy. You ran into walls, got your shirt caught on pointy objects, face planted into gardens, and tripped going up the stairs.  You weren’t as strong as the others,  you never worked on your upper body strength because you never really cared about it.

You would run twice a week for exercise and that was it. You hated working out, it was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. You would much rather be drinking a milkshake while watching the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Like you were right now.

“Oo, fancy.” You were sitting criss crossed on the couch, a blanket spread across your bare legs and your baggy long sleeve shirt rolled up slightly on your arms. A milkshake in one hand while your eyes remained glued to the screen projecting the fashion show.

“That looks painful.” Scott spoke with a mouth full of his own milkshake. He was slouched next to you, his legs spread out in front of him and his back surrounded by toss pillows. He was tilting slightly onto the arm of the couch but he seemed to be comfortable.

“I would never wear something that heavy looking on my dick.” Scott took another large gulp of his shake, twisting his face in pain as a brain freeze clearly took over his mind temporarily.

“But it’s so pretty.” You admired the glammed up bra, “Oo, look she has wings! I wish I had wings, how fun would that be?”

“Super fun! I would strut around in wings all day if they looked like that.” Scott glanced over at you, but you were still consumed in admiring all the glamorous outfits and models.

“I have wings.” Sam called out from the chair on the other side of the couch. His legs hanging over the arm of the chair and his back resting against the other arm. His phone rested on his chest and his shake was long gone, the empty cup sitting on the coffee table. “They’re even cooler because mine work.”

“Mm.” Both you and Scott made the same sound and twisted your lips as you both looked at Sam.

“Not the same thing. Yours aren’t as glamorous, now are they?” You turned your attention back at the screen and made your lips in the shape of an ‘o’ as you looked at Gigi Hadid walk down the runway. She was your favorite model, her and Cara Delevingne.

“Yeah. You get feathers, sparkles, jewels and glitter on your wings, then we’ll talk.” Scott nodded his head swiftly and ignored Sam’s narrowed eyes as he directed his eyes back to the Fashion Show.

“I know a girl who can hook you up with some bedazzlement on those wings of yours, Sam.” You winked in his direction, a smirk tilting on your lips. “And by girl I mean me, and by bedazzlement I mean some superglue and a trip to Hobby Lobby.” 

“I hate both of you.” Sam chuckled under his breath and shifted around a little in his chair.

“Man, I wish I had legs like those.” Scott  shook his head and moved the straw in his shake around, trying to get a good sip. You giggled at Scott’s comment, you always found him to say the strangest but most awesome things. 

“You know who has legs like those?” Sam paused, waiting for Scott to answer but when Scott kept gulping down his shake, Sam answered himself. “Natasha. She even has the walk down too, she would slay all those other models.” 

Scott hummed in agreement. “And Wanda has the hair of a Victoria Secret model. I wish my hair was as luscious as hers, that would save me fifteen minutes in the morning.”

“You spend fifteen minutes on your hair?” Sam scuffed and tilted his head back to look at Scott.

“This,” Scott motioned to his hair. “doesn’t just happen, Sam. It takes time, effort and skill, okay?”

“Man, you’re crazy.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head and slouching back down in his chair again. “For real though, Wanda and Nat are hella attractive-”

You shuffled around in your seat, the thoughts that consumed your mind were driving you insane. All they were talking about was how beautiful Natasha and Wanda were, of course you had to agree, they were both stunningly gorgeous. They were badass, strong and attractive all at once. They were your best friends, but it always hurt you when you would go places with them and everyone would notice them and not you.

You weren’t as stunning as them, you weren’t as flawless and beautiful as them. Of course you weren’t. Everyone expected Tony Stark’s daughter to be drop dead gorgeous, but somehow they always seemed surprised to see you. You were never what they were expecting.

You stood up suddenly, your nose tingling and your eyes starting to twitch with tears. Your chest felt tight and your hands felt clammy, you needed a moment to pull yourself together before you came back out here and pretended to not even care. You dropped the blanket previously covering your bare legs on the couch where you used to be sitting and placed your milkshake, that suddenly made you feel bloated, on the coffee table.

“I have to pee.” You announced it as a joke, happily your voice didn’t shake and you seemed to be holding it together on the outside fairly well. You knew you were about to break, you had to hide.

“Okay.” Scott and Sam both watched you speed down the hallway. “Be back soon, the Angels are about to come out!’

“Man, seriously though, Nat and Wanda have the legs and hair, but damn, Y/N has the whole package. The face, hair, walk, legs, and even the hips.” Sam shook his head in astonishment.

Scott nodded his head in agreement and pulled a part of your blanket on his thighs, he knew it was your favorite blanket but he loved it just as much. It was soft and always smelled good.

“She looks more like a Victoria Secret model than some of the Victoria Secret models.” Scott talked with another mouthful of his shake, he didn’t even care though. “Have you seen the way everyone looks at her, she steals the attention away from Nat and Wanda every time they go out.”

“Hell, she steals the attention away from us Avengers. And we’re Avengers.”

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Five Times Spencer Reid Got Relationship Advice, and the One Time He Didn’t Need It (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request done for @redrookrising who wanted “an imagine about Spencer going around to different members of the BAU, asking them how to ask the reader out” Unbeta’d! Hopefully you guys enjoy it! 

“Rossi, can I ask you something?” Spencer said leaning on the doorway of Rossi’s office.

“Come in. Sit.” Rossi said, putting the files down.

“So, you know Y/N, the new girl in IA? The one Kevin brought over last week?”

“Ah, yes. She’s a pretty one.” Dave said, recalling with a smile.

“I know it’s frowned upon by the bureau, but I thought since you didn’t say anything when Garcia and Kevin were together that I’d ask you if you had any advice as to how I should ask her out.”

“You come to me in a time of need,” Rossi said jovially. “Just be yourself. But if it helps, in my time, I’ve learned that women like to be treated. A little wine and dine never hurt. Or if you want to really seal the deal…”

“I do.” Spencer said, surely. He couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N.

“Then take her to the city of love.” He clocked Spencer’s taken aback look, “Kid, I’m telling you, just grab a couple of plane tickets and take her to Paris. Works every time. No one does romance like the French.” Rossi reasoned. Spencer shouldn’t have expected anything less, Dave was known for extravagance. Spencer knew that it wouldn’t work, not that Y/N wasn’t worth it. Flashy just didn’t fit her style.

“I’ll consider it,” Spencer lied. “Thanks, Rossi.”

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You know where the veil between worlds is truly thin? 1990′s - early 2000′s documentary programs

There are a lot of posts about liminal spaces and to be fair they’re a fascinating concept, but while highway rest stops are a good example, I feel we are all missing a great deal by not exploring the liminal dimensions present in made-for-tv documentaries from the 1990′s and early 2000′s.

For Instance:

When I was a child, my bed time was 8:00. Unfortunately for me, the weekly program about dinosaurs I wanted to watch on.. the Discovery Channel I think it was(?) happened at 9:00. My mom would tape them for me every week, because VHS was still a thing back then.

Eventually however, the series ended without either of us noticing. She taped the timeslot anyway and gave it to me to watch the next afternoon, like usual, which is how I, a 7 or 8 year old child, ended up watching a half-hour long program about people who had died by spontaneous human combustion.

I watched, enraptured, as the program explored the puzzling and horrific cases of people who, for seemingly no reason, had burst into intensely hot flames which reduced them to mere ashes, with no discernible source of ignition and which left nearby flammables curiously untouched. “Could this happen to anyone? Could this happen to you?” the program asked me, flashing yet another grisly black and white photograph of an incinerated body across the screen. “Yes, and I must fear it” I thought in reply, and continued to think about constantly for the next several years.

In time though, I forgot. Until my friend Paloma recommended me some short stories she had read for one of her classes, because I needed some new reading material for the train to class. One of them was about a character whose parents had died by SHC (Blowing Up on the Spot by Kevin Wilson). Suddenly, I remembered.

“I have to find this program,” I thought. “There must be a reason I have this specific, persistent fear, and for some reason I bet watching it again will make it less awful,” I continued, because I am an idiot and I don’t know what’s good for me.

After hours of scouring the internet, I have found exactly one copy of this show that so scarred me. It has subtitles in Greek, the audio unsyncs from the narrator’s lips and becomes steadily fuzzier as the video goes on until it is nearly indecipherable, and searching the actual name of the show yields not even a Wikipedia article. A few sites have episode lists but that’s about it, and those with dates list them all as being released on the same day in 2009, so I am forced to conclude that no one knows when these programs came into existence. They seem to exist in neither this time nor space, and attempts to keep them tied to this dimension result in warping of sound and language.

They are trying to escape, and after rewatching this awful barrage of burned bodies and early 2000s CGI simulations of people on fire, I think we should let them. The veil is thin between universes which are so close to touching as to allow hints of passage. These are moving away from us. Let them go.

This is the final vestige of a world not our own. (tw for fairly graphic images of dead bodies, I am serious here)

Of Late I Think of Riverdale (Part 1)

Warnings: None

Request by @bxllasanosa:  can I request a Jughead Jones imagine where the reader moved from Riverdale a few years ago and comes back while the Jason Blossom death mystery (she knows what happened and all even Ms. Grundy) she and Jughead had a past together (like Jughead and Archie liked her and they were bffs but she liked Jug more) and they still love each other and Jughead sees her at school and it hits him that she’s back but he’s dating Betty and Archie still likes her and it pisses off Jug. The ending’s up to you :)

Here you are! I had to split it up into parts because it got so long, but I hope you enjoy it!

Part 2 Part 3

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#flirting (an Olicity fic)

Here’s a ridiculous little celebrity/social media au one shot. I wrote it this summer and totally forgot about it but I found it today so… here it is! There may be a few more parts to this, idk. We’ll see!


She was standing in the kitchen, just finishing off her (disgusting) protein shake, when an alert lit the face of her phone.

@OliverQueen tweeted a photo.

She chugged the last sip—ugh!—and swiped the screen. A second later a photo of Oliver was staring back at her and she’d be lying if she said her breathe didn’t catch a little at the sight.

Tight t-shirt, crazy blue eyes, just the right amount of scruff… He was gorgeous, always, but especially standing on the deck of a yacht, leaning over the railing just enough to show off his muscular shoulders. The tweet said, “Fav pic from the @MensHealth shoot.” It already had over a thousand likes.

Felicity liked the tweet and threw her glass in the sink, maybe a little rougher than she’d meant to considering the way it rattled around.

It wasn’t that she was jealous. She was happy for Oliver; he worked hard to maintain his physique and anyone who worked that hard for anything deserved praise and a spread in Men’s Health was good for him, but ugh! Over a thousand likes in less than three minutes? Really? How was it possible?

Her phone vibrated and she looked down to see another alert.

@OliverQueen: @FelicitySmoak you should have come with. Missed you on the boat ;)

Felicity sighed and tapped out a return message.

@FelicitySmoak: @OliverQueen motion sickness, photogs and getting hit on 24/7? Yeah what was I thinking passing on that?

As was usual whenever she got into a conversation with Oliver on social media, her phone started blowing up. Likes and follows and retweets. Everyone wanted a piece of Oliver Queen, even if it was just in the form of stalking him on Twitter.

Even she had her claws in him in a way. It wasn’t like he talked to her on Twitter because he missed her sparkling personality. No, she was the Ronald Miller to his Cindy Mancini, using his popularity and social media prowess to Can’t Buy Me Love her way into the hearts of America. Or, at least, into the hearts of his millions of followers.

Her phone vibrated again, but this time it was a text.

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CHDH Ch. 1

“Capturing Her Damaged Heart”

Summary: A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU. Hurt/comfort, angst, romance.

Read Chapter: 1, 2

Read on FF.net or AO3.

A few warnings before we get started: This is rated M for explicit language, violence, torture, physical and emotional abuse, character death, sexual abuse, eventual sexual content, possible triggers, controversial topics, drug use, and adult situations.

As you can see, the zombie apocalypse can get quite messy. This is not a story for the lighthearted. The triggering content won’t go into extreme detail, but I did want to put a warning.

In the beginning of chapters where there’s either smut or a possible trigger, I will post a warning so you can choose if you want to read it, skim it, or skip it. (Keep in mind, it will be a while until either happen.)

If at any time you decide you don’t want to continue reading this story then please don’t feel any pressure from me to keep reading. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, so don’t compromise your well-being for the sake of a story. That being said, I also want to say I will not change how I write this story. The main plot has already been decided. It’s not meant to be a fluffy piece, but there will be good times shared here and there for our survivors and there will be a relatively happy ending.

I would also like to warn this is a ‘slow burn’ story! So keep that in mind while reading. This is a NALU story, but be warned, this will be a bumpy ride.

I do not own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does! I only own this specific plot, and my OC’s if I choose to create some. There is no updating schedule.

I sincerely hope you read all the warnings and didn’t skip straight to the story, but if you did, good luck. Either way, enjoy!

Chapter One: Section Six

October 4th, 2017, Wednesday Morning

Flipping the page of his manga, Natsu read out loud, “'We just said that’s the wrong name!’” He took a breath, changing the tone of his voice a bit. “'No, it’s not! When I made him that shrine, Yato was so happy! He’d wanted it for so long! It can’t be wrong!’”

Eyes flitting to the next page, Natsu continued. “'Or he wouldn’t have cried like that…’”

He sighed, closing his manga and setting it beside him. He didn’t need to turn the page to know what came next. Muttering, he recited the words from the next few pages because he had them memorized. “'Yaboku! Wheeeeew… Welcome back, Yato.’”

Green eyes shut as he leaned back on his mattress, staring up at the fluorescent lights that didn’t work anymore. “This is so boring,” he moaned to himself. He had read his tenth volume of ‘Noragami’ twenty, no… twenty-one times before today.

'If only I had the other volumes. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so bored.’

Shifting against his bed and covers, he tried to get comfortable for a nap. However, the sound of a female’s voice captured his attention. “If it’s so boring, why do you keep reading it?”

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Closed Set

Request:  Hiii so I know you write mostly Sam and you claim you don’t write Jared, but would you be willing to write a Jared story? I want to request: Imagine filming a sex scene with Jared. And maybe he gets really into it, which isn’t in the script, but you can obviously take it wherever your heart desires. -@impalaimagining

Jared x Female Reader

Summary: Filming a love scene with Jared is a little more than you bargained for. 

Warnings: This is what I would consider smut adjacent, nothing too graphic.

Word Count: 1700+

A/N: Beta’d by the always amazing @elliewinchesterr

Possibly part one of two, I’m always skittish when I write Jared. 

“How do those feel?” Tabitha, your wardrobe assistant, gestures to the round flesh colored stickers covering your nipples.

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anonymous asked:

9. things you said when i was crying, narry

a whopping 4.8k of ever-so-slightly future fic where the boys assemble to meet liam’s baby, and harry grapples with how things change

Harry slides into the backseat, buckles his seat belt, and pops his earbuds in to listen to the mix Jeff (Bhasker, not Azoff) emailed him this morning. He waves to his driver and offers him a smile, as well as an apologetic little gesture to the glinting pink phone in his hand. He nods at him in the rearview mirror, smiles back, and reverses them out of the pilates studio parking lot.

Sweat sticks Harry’s shirt to the small of his back and his underarms and the inner curve of his knees, his back positively singing in relief. He’d been feeling sore and rundown, and he couldn’t tell whether his back aches from the strain of a good workout or whether he’s been sleeping curled up in a tight little ball again, his joints locked up by the end of the night. Maybe he’s coming down with a cold. He jots down a little note in his notes app to pick up some more cold medicine and herbal tea.

His notes are absolutely bursting with things he has to do. Really he’d be better off asking his personal assistant, Eloise, to pick up the tea for him, but last time he saw her, she was juggling three phones and the fattest appointment book he’s ever seen. The circles under her eyes were so dark they didn’t even look real; Harry’d been halfway to asking if they weren’t, if there was a new trend afoot in the fashion world?

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One. Zero. One. Three. (An Adlock x Marylock Fanfiction)

(Hey y’all! The other day, I had this epiphany that I wanted to make a fic with references to John trying to flirt with Irene in ASiB. Thanks to @i-am-benedict-cumberbatched‘s amazing prompt on Mary learning about Irene waaaaaay back, my plans have been culminated into this so hope y’all enjoy!)

Originally posted by consultingpiskies

There’s a huge distinction between lilacs and purples, and it is important to know which is which – or so Sherlock convinces himself to believe. 

221B has been filled with clutter, or at least more clutter than usual, ever since the preparations for John and Mary’s wedding started. He couldn’t hide his nervousness, despite trying to be his level-headed self, waiting for the event to happen making him uneasy. 

The obvious thing that occurred in his mind is the disturbing sentimentality that comes along his camaraderie with John Watson. To be fair, it is quite manageable considering the fact that having Mary in his life now is one to be grateful for. In fact, if he believed in a higher power, he would probably consider it a blessing.

“Are you looking up bridesmaid dresses?” Mary asked, taking him by surprise as she popped up behind him. 

He abruptly closed his laptop, playing it cool, and simply replied, “Just doing my research.”

Mary giggled, rolling her eyes playfully at him. In her hands were a bunch of invitations. 

“Anyone else you’d like to include, Sherlock? Probably a date? John mentioned a crazy mad one from before.” she asked teasingly. Behind her, John gave a not-so-subtle scoff. 

Mary raised her eyebrow and turned to face her soon-to-be husband. “Her name’s Irene Adler, right John?”

John pursed his lips, probably remembering the lie Mycroft told him. The Woman was supposed to be dead, right? 

“Ah, yes. Erm…” John simply muttered. “Probably not the best idea to invite her to our wedding.”

Mary looked amused. “Why not? Sherlock doesn’t seem to mind.”

Sherlock looked at Mary with a protesting expression. “I didn’t–”

“Ooooh! I think I struck a nerve here!” Mary quipped delightfully, resting her chin on her fingers. “Now, I really want to invite her.”

John sighed. “That bloody woman is a walking chaos. Talk about…”

Sherlock found himself irritated, John’s words sounding muddled against his ears. He finds his patience more tolerating when it comes to John and Mary, but this time, the doctor’s words against The Woman gave his head a buzz. A similar feeling occurred years ago, when John was deliberately turning on the charm, or what people call tried to flirt, with Irene Adler back when all three of them first met. 

And so, he couldn’t quite stop his own tongue at spilling the following words: “If I remember correctly, you didn’t initially think she was a chaotic woman. She was actually your type before she deliberately turned you down.”

John stopped talking, brows knitting together in confusion. 

“Oh, this is the first time I am hearing about this.” Mary grinned, nodding at Sherlock to continue. 

Sherlock sighed. “No, I–”

John, still obviously irritated, leaned towards their direction. “I want to hear about this as well. What in the world are you talking about?”

The detective realised that John must have forgotten about the incident already, but even with the protests of his logical self, his mouth started to recount the story.

“When we asked her about the case of the hiker and the backfire, and how she knew about it, she said she knew what one of the policemen… liked.” Sherlock almost spat the word. “And so you immediately offered, or more appropriately, tried to offer that you are not just a policeman, but a former soldier, considering that you asked her if she likes policemen with a leaning stance and a lingering stare, suggesting pride, attraction, and interest. Not to mention the small smile you have as you asked the question, suggesting that you did, in fact, have the soldier card up your sleeve. I’m assuming that her dismissing your advances might have caused your… hostility towards her.”

To his surprise, as soon as he ended, John and Mary are both smiling knowingly. 

“So, I was right. You were jealous that’s why you tried to impress her.” John replied, smirking. The doctor turned to his fiancee, and added, “Sherlock forgot to mention that to ‘dismiss’ me, Irene Adler’s exact words were ‘I like detectives, and detective stories. Brainy is the new sexy.’ So now you probably know why Sherlock’s practically smitten with her.”

Mary’s smile grew wider, shrugging. “To be fair, you really got dumped.”

“I wasn’t… I’m not… smitten… with her.” Sherlock muttered through his teeth.

“Whatever you say, dear.” Mary replied, piling up the invitations she was holding. 

And if Sherlock wasn’t mistaken, she may have deliberately left a blank one just above the drawer where he kept the Vertu. 

“Sherlock, dear, can you come here for a moment?” Mary called from the top of the stairs, as he and John were discussing something with Lestrade by the doorway. The detective gave her a nod and followed. 

“What is it?” he asked casually, oblivious of what is about to happen. 

There was something about Mary’s smile that made his senses tingle, heart thrumming as she gestured him to sit. His brow raised in curiosity when she showed him his own mobile phone. 

“You shouldn’t leave your phone lying around, especially when you have a very naughty text alert.” she teased. 

It was evident that surprise was spread across his face, Mary simply enjoying the moment. Then she read, “Pregnant lady, bronze babies, cloaked man, and Kafka… Guess where I am? IA. IA— I wonder who this is?”

So Irene is in Prague. Safe. Good to know. Still, he wouldn’t say that out loud. Not when the cat’s out of the bag.

Sherlock walked over to Mary, without making eye contact, and asked for his phone with an extended hand. She willingly gave it back to him, crossing her legs as if waiting for an explanation. 

“Oh please, I didn’t do it on purpose! It was displayed on your screen, inviting prying eyes. I didn’t even have to crack your passcode. But I tried it and it was quite easy.” she smugly said, grinning at him. 

“Is it now?” he replied, deadpan, missing a point.

“John told me she was dead, and that you didn’t know because Mycroft wanted to keep it a secret. But you knew they were lying because you saved her, didn’t you?” Mary asked curiously, but Sherlock knew she already had it all figured out. 

“I think the answer to that is quite… obvious.” Sherlock replied. He noticed Mary’s questioning look that made him roll his eyes. 


Mary was obviously trying to restrain herself from smiling. “You still see each other.”

Sherlock sighed. “I don’t understand why you’ve taken intere–”

“When are you going to text her back?” she asked again, grinning. 

“I don’t.” 

“Stop fibbing.”

“I’m not.”

“I know when you’re fibbing.”

Sherlock can’t help but run his fingers through his hair, agitated. Why is Mary pressing on about her?

“One. Zero. One. Three.” Mary mused, playfully rocking back and forth on her seat. 

The detective was suddenly back to being attentive, unsure of what he’s heard. Mary raised her eyebrows at him. “You seem surprised.”

“How did you–?” Sherlock started, but he was interrupted by John entering the flat. 

Sherlock took every opportunity to talk to Mary about the matter at hand, but she dismisses him immediately as soon as he rejects her request to talk about Irene Adler. 

Days passed, then weeks, and every time he’s on his phone, she keeps on whispering, “Make sure you have it on vibrate.” accompanied by a cheeky wink. 

But it was when John went to fix some papers for their clinic that he found himself alone again with Mary’s inquiring eyes. 

“Mary, please, it’s a simple question.” Sherlock hissed. 

“So was mine. I just wanted to know… how things are.” Mary smiled. 

“The passcode…”

“…is the date when you saved her from that terrorist cell. October 13, yes?” she said, an air of pride in her voice. 

“Yes.” Sherlock replied shortly. 

“And… we’ll just leave it at that?” Mary groaned. 

“It’s just a passcode.” he asserted unconvincingly. 

Mary theatrically tapped her pointer finger near her lips as if to exaggerate that she was thinking. “John told me that, to Mycroft’s hesitance in telling the story if I might add, the only reason why you beat Irene Adler was because her passcode was your name.”

Sherlock tried to focus on the wall behind Mary instead of directly looking at her. “I didn’t beat her.” 

Mary nodded. “Because you went out of your way to save her, thus making you feel like you lost.”

The detective didn’t reply. Instead, he handed Mary his phone. 

“What do you want me to do with this?” Mary asked. 

“Any observations?” he asked, voice too quiet that it would seem like he was talking to himself. 

Mary looked at the phone and her smile grew wider. “iPhone 5. So after all these years, you still backup all her messages, and even her text alert, and put it in whichever phone you’re using. The question is, why?”

Sherlock sighed as Mary handed him the phone back. “Everything I will say is a secret. Our secret.”

“Of course, dear.” Mary replied sincerely. 

“I believe John feels very strongly about my relationship with The Woman, so I’d rather he not know.” Sherlock grumbled. 

“I don’t think he hates her, really, he just told me that when you thought she died, he was very worried about… your emotional state. And he couldn’t understand you, her, and you and her. Plus, you did say Irene dumped him easily. Maybe it hurt his ego.” she joked. 

“Even I don’t understand her… And myself when with her.” Sherlock confessed, not meeting Mary in the eyes. 

“Why did you save her?” Mary asked directly, narrowing down the conversation into the most obvious foundation. 

Sherlock’s mind reeled, words and expressions flying through his usually above average train of thought. 

Mary smiled and reached out to touch his folded hands. “Sherlock, admitting that you feel something for her will not make you a lesser being. I hope you know that.”

“It’s never simple with her.” he sighed. “She’s too clever, too cunning, too dangerous, too inviting, too… just too much everything. And I can’t get her out of my head. It can be irritating at times. Prancing into my Mind Palace even in the middle of cases. And what’s more frustrating is I don’t want to… stop thinking about her, I mean… Oh, will you stop looking so happy? It’s not like I just confessed a murder, or a solution to a decade-long case.”

“But you did speak out your heart. Look, Sherlock, I’m not asking you to try and have what John I and have with her. I know that’s what you’re worried about. I can see that you feel restrained by the idea of ‘settling down with The Woman’ and that’s not what I’m telling you.” Mary explained. 

“Then what exactly are you telling me?” Sherlock asked. 

“I’m simply letting you know that it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. Live out the adventure. Play the game. Gamble. Fall.” 

Sherlock studied every word that escaped Mary’s lips. “You can be difficult at times, Mary Morstan.”

She grinned. “Made you think, didn’t it?”

For the first time since they started the conversation, Sherlock smiled. “I believe you and her will get along very well.”

Mary’s smile grew. “So you’ll let me meet her?”

The smile on Sherlock’s face disappeared quickly. “No.”

Pouting, she playfully punched him in the arm. “Why not?”

“It’ll be too chaotic.” 

“Oh, please! It’ll be fun!” Mary insisted. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “No. And besides, she’s… she’s currently halfway across the world so contain yourself… Last night, she told me she’s in Phuket.”

A scheming glint was evident on Mary’s eyes. “You’ll go, wouldn’t you? Oh, just take me. We won’t take long.”

“Your wedding is in a week.” 

“John wouldn’t know! We’ll plan it out. We can do it right now!” 

Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose, a sudden realisation hitting him. “Wait, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?” Mary asked. 

“The passcode. How did you know?” 

Mary chuckled, fumbling with her phone before giving a reply. “John said that you found out she wasn’t really dead around New Year. Then met her again, here, 6 months later. She stayed for a day, had you crack the code, then basically causing chaos and you saving the day within those 24 hours. 

Then John said Mycroft went to meet him during the wettest season of the year, so I assumed mid-November to December, and the claim was that Irene Adler was captured and ‘killed’ in Karachi a couple of months before that. Can be September or October but I chose the latter because the chances are slightly higher. 

After that I figured it was a weekend, considering that John was admittedly on a dating spree during weekends at the time, giving you enough opportunity to sneak out and have your little escapade.”

“I actually asked John to gather evidence for a triple murder in Warwick and even advised that he stayed there overnight in case I need anything else. He seemed pleased with the idea.” Sherlock recalled. “Still, great deduction.”

Mary looked pleased. “Can’t always be too accurate.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement. And just when he thought the conversation has come to a close, Mary’s face lit up once more as she looked up to him.  

The detective’s eyes narrowed as he tried to read into Mary’s expression, but she left him no more time to guess as she showed him her phone screen. 

“Pack your bags, Sherlock. We’re going to Thailand.”

Black Cat, Red Night

Chapter 1: Zeroes

Commission for @xenethis-chimera

For any of you who have every watched Teen Titans from way back when you might find one of the characters in this familiar ;) but if you don’t it is still totally readable- I encourage all of you to follow this- great things to come!

Hawkmoth leaned back in his desk chair, pressing his fingers together contemplatively. Detransformed, he sat in the shadows of his office using the darkness to disguise himself as he prepared to answer the video call scheduled to come in any minute now. The situation with Ladybug and Chat Noir had grown tedious. His akumas had failed him time and time again and so it would seem that Hawkmoth needed more than an akuma at his disposal to defeat the infuriating adolescent duo. Hawkmoth had done his research, looking far and wide for just the right person for the job and he had finally found someone with the kind of remarkable skill set he required.

The beeping from his computer brought his attention back to the screen. Hawkmoth clicked on the answer key before settling back into his chair. On the screen sat a shadowed figure in a seemingly dark and plain room. Hawkmoth smirked to himself. I guess evil minds think alike.

“Fancy meeting you here, come here often?” The man’s raspy voice sounded through the computer’s speakers in fluent French.

“I’ve heard many things about your particular skill set,” Hawkmoth’s voice stayed even and serious. All business.

“What can I say, word gets around,” He said playfully.

“I have to say I’m quite… interested…” Hawkmoth said slowly.

“I’ve got a lot of people interested, what makes this job so worthy of my talents?” He snorted. Hawkmoth smiled knowingly.

“Oh I think you will find this job particularly … challenging,” Hawkmoth taunted. The man leaned forward in his chair.

“I’m listening,” He rasped. Hawkmoth grinned wickedly. How the simple minded were so easily manipulated.

“Have you ever been to Paris M. X?” Hawkmoth began. The man smiled slightly before letting out a low dark laugh.

“You could say I’ve spent some time there before,” He said coyly.

“Well in the past year Paris has developed a bit of a… hero problem you could say. There are two heroes who go by the names of Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Hawkmoth started to explain.

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Two-Way Secret

A/N: Anon request (2 separate messages. I think they forgot they sent one and sent a second) for a Spencer x Reader, where she is insanely intelligent and just started dating Spencer. Because the team is overprotective, they get Garcia to look into her background and find out something that she hasn’t told Spencer yet. It was checked out by the Bureau before she was hired, so technically Strauss and Hotch already know. @coveofmemories


Spencer smiled wide as his new girlfriend, Y/N crossed the bullpen to give him a quick peck on the lips before heading to her desk. “Hey babe,” she laughed, shielding her kiss from Strauss’ view. “She can’t see me. I’m running away now.”

Just six weeks ago, Y/N had walked into the Bureau for an interview. After running into her (on purpose) on the staircase, Spencer asked her out for a cup of coffee and ever since, they’d been together nearly every moment they were home. Then, two weeks ago, Hotch had offered her the job. She was exceptionally qualified, though on the young side, like him. High school had been skipped in its entirety, and at the age of 12, she was the youngest student at MIT, where she earned her two Ph.D.s in Linguistics and Microbiology. From there, she’d attended Yale, earning a dual MD/JD before applying to the Bureau; she was literally a jack of all trades and Spencer had fallen for her pretty much immediately. 

Although they knew she was qualified, the team was a little reluctant about her involvement with their youngest member. “I really want to like her,” JJ said, watching as Y/N made lovey-dovey eyes at Spencer across the bullpen. “But there is something about her that’s off. Not even necessarily bad. I just feel like she’s hiding something from him. I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s had enough of that.”

“She’s just so perfect,” Garcia said. “There has to be something wrong with her, right? She has to have some kind of skeleton.”

Hotch knew what Y/N was hiding, but it wasn’t a deal breaker in the scheme of her working for the Bureau. She probably just hadn’t figured out a way to tell him yet. “I’m sure she only wants what’s best for him,” he said. “Like we all do. Let’s just give her the benefit of the doubt alright?” 


Another two weeks went by and although they knew that Hotch was right, that they should let their concerns about Y/N slide, they couldn’t help but continue to doubt her genuineness and care for the doctor. He’d been through such pain already that the last thing they wanted was him to get hurt. “I just can’t help but think that I’ve seen her face somewhere before,” Emily said. “It’s this nagging feeling I just can’t shake.”

“What can’t you shake?” Morgan asked, walking up to Emily’s desk as she, Garcia and JJ glanced over at Spencer and Y/N eating lunch together. 

Emily took out her smartphone and did a cursory search of Y/N’s name to see if anything came up, but all she could find were articles about her numerous higher degrees; there was no doubt she was intelligent beyond reason, just like Reid. “I can’t shake the fact that I feel like I’ve seen her face somewhere,” she said.

“I know Hotch said to let it go,” Garcia whispered, “But do you think maybe I should do a deeper search of Y/N using my not-so-secret ways? Just so that we can make sure she’s on the up-and-up? I don’t want Reid to get hurt.”

JJ nodded her head, glancing over to see the two lovebirds throwing bits of food at each other. “Wouldn’t the Bureau refuse her if she’d done anything bad?” she asked.

“Not necessarily,” Garcia said, without realizing she’d never told anyone how she got her job at the Bureau before. “Let’s just say I might have been doing some things when the Bureau found me…”

Everyone looked toward Garcia in astounded silence. “Babygirl, we are gonna talk about that later, but with that information, it’s possible she’s done something that the Bureau overlooked because of her never-ending knowledge. It looks good for the Bureau to have two certified geniuses working on the same team.”

“If they overlooked something big for work that’s one thing,” JJ interjected, “But it could be something that could hurt Spence, so…should we?”

“Let’s go,” Garcia whispered, making a beeline for her office. One by one JJ, Emily and Morgan followed her. They all just hoped there wasn’t anything in Y/N’s background that could hurt Spencer; he didn’t deserve it.

“Alright, I’m doing a background search going back 15 years to when she was 10,” Garcia said. She was nothing if not thorough.

“I don’t think we’re gonna find anything until at least 16 or 17, babygirl.”

“Yea, probably not,” JJ said, turning around to make sure no one was spying on them, even though they were already taking a risk doing their own spying. “Can you do an image search? Emily was saying she recognized her face. Maybe her face has been somewhere recognizable, but under a different name.”

Immediately, Garcia started a search using her picture. “Oh. My. God.”

“That’s where I knew her from,” Emily said, remembering all those years ago when she’d bought one of her first fancy sets of lingerie. “She was a lingerie model. A very beautiful, very racy lingerie model for a couple companies.”

They stared at the screen in amazement - Y/N’s body all but completely visible in a nude and red sheer bra and panty set with thigh highs and suspenders. Garcia continued to dig, finding out that she would loan out modeling services to almost anyone who would pay. “Do you think it went any further than pictures?” Morgan asked. “If it did, it’d break the kid’s heart. Someone’s gotta say something to him.” 

Everyone awkwardly shuffled around while Garcia printed out some pictures and information they were going to give to Reid. “Who’s gonna tell him?” Garcia asked. “Not it!”

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

“Dammit,” JJ muttered, having drawn the proverbial short straw. “I really hope we’re wrong about her. Then we can just feel guilty about doubting her, rather than watch Spence get hurt. I’ll tell him after work.”


“See you in a couple of hours, okay,” Y/N said, standing up on her tiptoes to give Spencer a kiss before she left. Apparently, she was going to be staying at his place for the weekend.

“Can’t wait,” he said, watching as she boarded the elevator and went out of view. 

After making sure that the coast was clear, JJ approached Spencer in one of the emptier hallways. “Hey, Spence. Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure, JJ. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t really know where the begin. “Umm, I don’t really know how to say this, so I guess I’ll just come out with it. Emily, Morgan, Garcia and I found out some things about Y/N.” Avoiding his eyes, she handed him the folder with the information and pictures they’d found. When she found the courage to look up, she saw Spencer’s eyes glaze over. He didn’t know. “We don’t know if it went any father than pictures, but even so, we figured you should know.”

“Thanks, JJ,” he said, closing the folder and putting it in his bag. When he walked away, JJ turned toward the rest of the team with tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t want him to get hurt,” she said, “but it looks like he didn’t know.”


“Hey babe,” Y/N said as Spencer opened the door. “What’s up? What’s with that smirk? Are you up to no good?”

Turning toward the counter, Spencer opened his bag and pulled out the folder. “It seems our teammates had some questions about you, so they did a background search.”

“They found my slutty pictures, didn’t they?” she said, biting her thumb and pulling her bra strap out from under her shirt for him to see. “Should we let them squirm for a little bit for snooping on me?”

As he licked his lips, he moved toward her, gathering her in his arms as he brought his lips to her neck. He knew the team meant well, but if they had asked him, he could’ve spared them the snooping. Y/N told him of her past - the fact that she’d done some semi-nude modeling in the past in order to pay off her debt from MIT, but that’s as far as it had gone - and he believed her. “I think that might be fun.”

Blushy boy - Tyler Seguin

Requested by anon: Would you please write an story where Tyler Seguin asks Cracknell to fix him up with one of his wife’s best friends.His wife hesitantly agrees but threatens to withhold sex for a long time from Adam if Tyler treats her friend like one of his puck f*cks or breaks her heart.Tyler’s nervous on the double date because he didn’t want to screw it up/Adam threatened him.He knows his teammates will tease him for making a fool of himself and not being his normal suave self, but the girl found it charming

A/N: First of all, I’m sorry it took sooooo long. I have been so busy and having so many headaches that I didn’t even feel like writing a line. Your prompt was super cute, so I hope I did it justice.

Word count: 1434

Warnings: Mild swearing, nothing too bad.

Master list

Originally posted by flyersphiladelphia

Adam and Tyler keep skating around the rink, waiting for the others to join them for practice. They were the first players on the ice after Antti and Kari, who somehow manage to always be the first ones.

“I can’t believe you cut me off that Instagram picture.” Tyler jokes.  He still can’t believe that there had been so much fuzz about his comment on Adam’s post.

“I’m sorry, bro. The baby hasn’t been born yet and she already has me wrapped around her little finger.” Adam says, referring to his wife answer to Tyler’s comment.

“I can only imagine.” Tyler just says, carrying a puck around on his stick.

“You’ll find the one, Seguin.” Adam assures Tyler and he just nods.

Tyler is not in a hurry to find anyone, to be honest. He is still young and enjoys having fun with different women. He is honest about it with them though, he always tells them that he is not looking for something serious and treats them with respect.

“Someday.” Tyler agrees and skates away from Adam, shooting the puck to the net on the other of the rink.

Practice is hard today, and also open to the public. Tyler enjoys it. He thrives on the feeling of being observed by people who admire him. He does more tricks and tries to do fancy plays for the audience, earning some chirping from the guys.

“You are such a show off.” Jamie punches his shoulder strong enough to make him lose his balance for a moment.

“Says the guy that says ‘thank you, thank you’ and waves when they applaud at him.” Tyler answers back sassily.

Jamie laughs, but doesn’t say anything else, skating towards the bench. Most of the guys have left the ice already but Tyler, Adam and Devin, who are still throwing pucks to the fans. Tyler is trying to give his stick to a little guy when he sees Teresa and another girl sitting on the bleachers.

“Hey Cracker Barrel!” Tyler yells and Adam gives him a dirty look, “wifey is here.”

“Oh fuck!” Adam joins Tyler on the ice and waves at the women, “I forgot that (y/n) was coming today.”

“Who is (y/n)?” Tyler looks at the girl sitting besides Teresa.

She is breathtaking, that’s the first thing that comes into Tyler’s mind. She is a natural beauty, no makeup needed at all. Her hair quite messy and her cheeks are flushed because of the cold.

“She is Teresa’s best friend from back home.” Adam says, turning around and skating out of the rink.

“You never told me that Teresa has hot friends.” Tyler says accusatorily.

“She is too good for you, Seguin.” Adam chuckles.

“Wow, now I’m hurt.” Tyler sounds like he has actually taken a bad hit.

“You’ll survive.”

“Adam, for real, I want to meet her.” Tyler is dead serious now. (y/n) looks like she is nothing like the girls he usually goes out with. She seems mature and put together, but fun to be around. She is incredibly beautiful but yet natural.

Adam thinks about it for a second before answering. He knows that (y/n) will be good for Tyler, but he also knows that Tyler might be bad for her. Adam loves Tyler like a brother, but he doesn’t always agree with his ways with women.

“I’ll ask Teresa.” He finally agrees.

“That’s all I ask for.” Tyler seems pleased.


“Definitely not.” Teresa’s voice is firm, “I won’t let Seguin destroy (y/n)’s heart.”

“Baby, please.” Adam half begs, “Tyler needs a mature woman in his life.”

They are lying in bed after a long day of walking and driving around Dallas to show (y/n) everything. Teresa was close to her due date and Adam wasn’t comfortable with leaving her while on a trip so he had convinced (y/n) to come stay with his wife during his road trip.

“Why does it have to be (y/n)?” She is still unsure about the whole thing, “I love Tyler and I love having him around, but I know how he is with women and I don’t want that for my friend.”

“You have seen him around the people he loves, doll. He is the most caring person I have ever met.” Adam says and Teresa nods, agreeing with what his husband is saying. She has always thought that Tyler was adorable around kids and his dogs and just people he cares about. “He just needs to find someone to treat as a Princess…”

“ Alright.”

“… to spoil rotten, someone to come home to… wait what?”

“I said alright, let’s get them together.” Teresa says, “but if he does something to hurt her there will be consequences.”


Tyler is in the pool with Marshall and Cash when he hears his phone going off. He leaves his dog swimming around the pool while he runs to answer his cell phone.

“Hello?” He doesn’t even look at the name on the screen before answering.

“Hey, Sequin Dress.” Adam says from the other side of the line.

“What’s up, Cracken Barrel?” Tyler asks, using Adam’s nickname.

“Remember (y/n)?” Adam wonders.

“Believe me, someone like that it’s hard to forget.” Tyler confesses, feeling quite dumb.

“Teresa agreed to let you meet her.” Tyler’s heart skips a beat while listening to Adam’s words, “But…”

“There is always a but…” Tyler cuts him off and Adam huffs.

“Tyler, listen to me, she is NOT one of your booty calls.” Adam emphasizes the word ‘not’, “if you meet her and you don’t feel like actually getting to know her and it’s only sexual attraction then you will let her go.”

“What does that even mean?” Tyler’s voice is confused and Adam sighs.

“What I want to say is that if you only want to spend a night with her and then never call her again, or call her again and make her have feelings for you and then break her heart I will personally beat the shit outta you.” Adam says seriously and he can hear Tyler’s breathing while the other man thinks.

“I’ll be nothing but respectful to her.” Tyler promises and Adam nods for himself, pleased with the answer that has been given to him.

“Alright, dinner tonight at Pappas Bros. 7pm sharp.” Adam informs.

“I will be there. Should I call and make a reservation?”

“That’d be smart.” Adam agrees and waits a second before adding, “you make ten times more money than I do, so you are paying.”


The food and company are amazing, Tyler thinks while taking a sip of wine. (y/n) and he have hit if off right away and he is enjoying himself.

“Do you like the wine?” He asks (y/n) shyly, and it almost surprises him how nervous he is about her answer.

Teresa and Adam are drinking water, Teresa because she is pregnant and Adam because of solidarity with his wife, so Tyler had chosen a bottle of wine just for (y/n) and him.

“It’s so good, you have a good taste.” (y/n) compliments him and his cheeks heat up.

Teresa and Adam are having the time of their life seeing Tyler get all nervous around a woman. He is normally extremely confident and acts cockily, and most women fall for his bad boy attitude; but (y/n) is finding adorable how Tyler stutters and blushes every time their eyes meet or she addresses him.

“Thank you.” Tyler says, looking down at his plate.

“Just the truth.” (y/n) smiles at him and he gets lost in that smile.

Tyler pays before Adam can tell him that he had been indeed joking and Tyler shrugs when his teammate tries to pay him back. They walk outside, Tyler helping (y/n) go down the few stairs that the restaurant has.

“You can invite me to coffee tomorrow.” Tyler tells him. “Actually, you can invite all of us.”

“Oh yes. I’ve been craving carrot cake from the coffee shop next to the Dr. Pepper arena for weeks now.” Teresa agrees with Tyler and (y/n) laughs.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow, bro.” Adam hugs Tyler, hitting his back rather hard. “I’m telling everyone what a blushy boy you have been.”

“Shut up.” Tyler answers him, hitting Adam’s back just as hard.

Tyler side hugs Teresa and she kisses his cheek before he moves towards (y/n) and wraps his arms around her waist, her own arms around his neck.

“Thanks for dinner.” She whispers on his ear, “I’ve had a lot of fun.”

“It was my pleasure.” And Tyler is sure that he is blushing once again.

Twenty-First Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third


Maggie invited herself to Christmas dinner at his house by email, a very un-Maggie like thing to do but necessary in her mind.

“Dear Fox,

I was going to ask this on Tuesday when you were here but I realized that if I mentioned it in person, you would attempt to find a way to decline and that will not work. Instead, I am letting you know that I’ll be there on December 20th at 4pm for appetizers, for dinner at 6pm and I will be leaving no later than 9pm to allow you to get your proper night’s sleep.

I will be bringing with me one blueberry pie and one pumpkin pie.

Whatever you choose to serve for dinner will be wonderful and I will enjoy it immensely.

I look forward to it and will not be checking my email so any possibility of you cancelling will not be seen and I will be on your doorstep regardless of weather and circumstance.




Somewhere around the previous February, he worked up the courage to write Maggie a short note, much like the ones he and Scully had been infrequently exchanging. She responded immediately and had not left him alone since. It had taken until April for her to convince him to come to her house on a Tuesday afternoon to help clean out her gutters. He’d made it there by cab, ontime, and the whole experience had been terribly awkward and clock-ticking dreadful.

He returned the next week to fix some siding issues she was having on the garage.

Then to mow her lawn.

Weed her garden.

Re-stain and re-seal the deck.

By June, he just came over, no work beckoning him but working once he got there none-the-less. She fed him, they talked, they cried on multiple occasions, he apologized every time before he left again that night.

He didn’t ask about Scully though.

Maggie had questioned him as to why he didn’t but with a simple shake of his head, “not yet. I know she’s okay though so that makes it easier.”

Once or twice, he’d come earlier or stayed later than he’d meant to or Scully had dropped by on the wrong day, forgetting, in the hustle and bustle of hospital life, which day was verboten. The first time for that had been painfully wretched, Mulder dropping everything and bolting from the house, apologizing later to Maggie from the comfort of his living room.

The second time had been easier, Scully apologizing for interrupting and nodding towards Mulder, eyes open and accepting that she still shared her mother with him even though she didn’t share his bed. She’d disappeared to the backyard and as he left a few minutes later, he called a quiet ‘good night’ through the screened door, hearing her call one back without missing a beat.


As the holidays approached and there ceased to be a lawn to mow or windows to wash, he began to worry that he wouldn’t have a reason to go see her, to interact with her, to learn, through osmosis and rusty spying techniques, that Scully had an apartment, a job, a decent car, a life that didn’t involve him.

He desperately wanted to curl up and die a little bit when he began to hear Christmas carols on the radio but then Flab jumped on his belly, walked smartly up his chest with tail raised and waving, licked his chin, whisker-tickled his cheeks, then meowed fishy breath in his face, demanding scratching on her head and undercarriage.

He had no choice but to smile and do her bidding.

He snuggled up with her later on but didn’t die, instead listened to her purr against his throat while he watched ‘Plan 9 from Outer Space’ and forgot to lock the front door.


“Mom, you didn’t even let him try to cancel? What if he’s not there when you show up?”

“He’ll be there. He wouldn’t dare not be there and he will have dinner ready and we will have a very pleasant holiday meal.” Giving her daughter a not-so-sneaky look, “you could always come with me. I think Fox would like that very much.”

Scully shook her head, leaning back against the kitchen chair, feet settled on the seat beside her, elbow resting on the table, head against her hand, “I can’t. I just … I’m okay with him being here but I’m not ready to go back yet.”

Maggie loved them more than her own life and wished they’d just get themselves organized, “he’s been doing so well with his medications and trying, Dana. He talks now and carries on a conversation that has nothing to do with aliens and invasions and basement bomb shelters. He’s like he used to be and he misses you so much. If you’d just try again …”

Scully cut her off, eyes closing, “Mom, I will do this at my speed, okay? I can’t just show up at the house for Christmas dinner and pretend life is fine.”

“I know, honey, I’m sorry to push.” Resting her hand on Scully’s arm, squeezing lightly, “but you’re sure you’re fine with me going?”

Eyes popping back open, they both ignored the shining tears suddenly pooling, “at least he’s letting someone in and better you than some crazy person he met online.”

Lightening the mood, Maggie smiled, “it’s nice to at least rank about the internet chat people.”


Maggie knocked on his door at precisely 4pm, pies in hand and scarf tied tight, the harsh wind blowing through her coat and sweater as if they weren’t there, small, sharp pieces of ice pummeling her hair and stinging her cheeks. Mulder answered with the same nervous look he had on his face when he showed up for his first Christmas all those years ago and she couldn’t help but smile, “relax, Fox, it’s just me and pie.”

Mulder smiled back, “am I wearing my panic look?”

“You are indeed.”

Appetizers consisted of fresh fruit and cheese, alternating olives and cubes of ham skewered to death on a red-foil topped toothpick, along with sparkling apple cider or water. Feeling the need to apologize for the drinks, “I’m not allowed any alcohol with my medication and I don’t need the temptation.”

Taking a long sip of her cider, “this is just fine. I don’t need the alcohol if I’m to drive home without getting pulled over.”

Dinner, with a little of Maggie’s help, was steak, baked potatoes, asparagus and salad. Nodding her approval as she took her first bite, “better than my husband ever made.”

“Mr. Scully couldn’t cook a steak?”

“Not unless you liked shoe leather. There’s a reason we all love burned bacon. At first, it was a necessity because that’s how he cooked it but it grew on us. The well-done steak, however, never quite caught on.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it.”

Conversation flowed smoothly, Mulder asking about the family, all the kids floating around; Maggie asking about his medications and his routine, keeping him honest without letting on that she was keeping him honest but given he knew she was keeping him honest, he answered honestly, never wanting her to worry about him again.

Talk turned to Scully completely on accident, just as Maggie was serving out gigantic pieces of pie, “you know, I never could get that daughter of yours to eat pie.”

Even before he finished the sentence, he felt his stomach clench tightly, the steak threatening to push back up his throat as his eyes darted anywhere but to his dinner guest. Maggie, heart aching once again for the pair of them, nodded lightly, her voice carrying a joviality to it that relaxed him somewhat, “neither could any of us, no matter how many we squished her face into and believe you me, there were a lot.”

Mulder lit up, suddenly needing to hear a story of Scully’s face buried in a banana cream pie as much as he needed air to breathe, “define a lot.”

The next hour, loose lips told stories that would make Scully blush, had she been there; stories of pies and bathing suit incidents and spelling bee SNAFUs and embarrassing questions and equally embarrassing answers.

Mulder had never, not in years, laughed like he did that night. He relished each incident as if it were precious crystal and gold, woven into an intricate remembrance of a Scully he’d never met, never heard about and never wanted to forget. He even repeated a few things, just to make sure he had them committed to memory correctly, realizing that even if she never came home again, he’d have these treasures forever.

Watching how delighted he was with her reminiscence, Maggie shared more and more, one story blended with the next until she looked up, realizing it was after 10, the wind howling, the snow pinging the glass as it drove horizontal against the house. Standing, she moved to the window, “I don’t think I can drive home in this, Fox. Would you mind terrible if I stayed on the couch?”

He felt awful that he’d kept her for so long, wondering if he’d done it on purpose for the company then berating himself because he’d done nothing but listen, Maggie leading the charge down memory lane without so much as a care about the weather outside. Nodding in her direction after a moment, “in face, you can have the spare bed upstairs or our bed, if you don’t like the mattress. Plenty of blankets and quilts to keep you warm, too, no matter how drafty it gets up there.”

Her heart sang momentarily, knowing that an offered room upstairs meant he was cleaning even where no one would see. Blankets and quilts meant he was doing laundry. All little things that added up to telling her her son was doing okay.

“I would love that, Fox, thank you.”

He looked around the kitchen, which they’d cleaned up earlier, “well, are you ready for bed now? It’ll probably take a few minutes for the room to warm up after I open the door so would you like another piece of pie, maybe or watch the news?”

Maggie drew back in surprise, “when did you get regular television again?”

Mulder went sheepish, ducking his head, “well, more like I have a satellite dish that I can aim through the attic window so no one can hijack the dish or signal and mess with me.” Running a hand messily through his hair, he squinted apologetically at her, “old, old, old habits die hard but I realized it was a good next step for me.”

Hugging him tightly in a surprise attack, he still marveled at how tiny both her and her daughter were given that their mere presence burst the seams of whatever room they were in, “it’s a very good step and yes, I would like to watch the news with you, then maybe an episode of something nice, ‘Golden Girls’ or whatever might be on one of those old lady stations.”


Soon, Maggie was wearing some of Scully’s old sweatpants and a t-shirt, settled comfortable under mounds of covers when she heard Mulder knock on the open door frame, “Fox? Is everything all right?”

Mulder regarded her seriously, “earlier, I referred to my bed as our bed, meaning mine and Scully’s. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression or idea that we were talking and she’d be back soon.”

Giving him the smallest head tilt, pulling her lips in slightly, pressing them together in sympathetic understanding, “I know, Fox. I don’t expect anything from either of you. I will always have hope and I will always pray that you two work things out eventually, be it end in love, friendship or understanding but above all else, I just want you to be happy. It’s what every mother wants for her children, both the ones related by blood and the ones she adopts as her own along the way.”

His eyes swam for a moment, then, “I go to therapy now. I mean, I actually go. I was doing things over the phone but finally, I realized that I needed to do it in person. I started a few weeks ago and I wanted to see how it went before I told you.”

Her chest swelled in pride, “I’m so proud of you, Fox. Dana will be to, whenever and if you ever choose to tell her.”

“I will. Just, in my own time … that is if you don’t mind keeping a secret from your daughter for me.”

With a juvenile turn of the fake lock on her lips, she tossed the key over her shoulder, “I will be silent until I hear from you.”

Flashing another Mulder smile at her, the one she’d missed so very much, he then scooped up the lurking Flab and dropped her on Maggie’s lap, “g’night, Maggie.”

“G’night, Fox.”


The next day, after Mulder had cleaned off Maggie’s car and had plowed the driveway with the lawnmower/snowplow, he came back in, shivering and soaked, grateful for the steaming mug of hot chocolate she met him at the door with. Taking it, he sipped, disappeared upstairs to change, then returned to the living room to find her waiting, small Christmas bag on the table, happy smile radiant. Once he sat down beside her on the couch, she handed him the bag, “Merry Christmas.”

“Aww, Maggie, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“No, I didn’t but I wanted to so I did and you can’t return it because it’s homemade and personalized just for you.”

Curiosity drove him to pull out tissue paper while smirking at her threat, “please tell me it’s fudge.”

“No, you’ll get that next time so stop bothering me about it.”

He would have responded with something but his tongue tied itself in a knot, the ornament he pulled from the bag stopping him in his tracks. It was a cross-stitched sphere, a myriad of blues in the background except for where ‘Fox’ and 6/6/1992 were sewn in, one on either side of the gift. It only took a moment for him to remember the date and looking at her in quizzical wonder, “why would you put this date on here?”

“Because that’s the first day I heard about you. She called me up that night and told me about the man she’d been partnered with, someone with the odd name of Fox Mulder. Had I known then what I know now, I would have told her to kiss you the first opportunity she had.”

Knowing Maggie well, he studied it first, then focused past it to her face, “did you make one for Scully, too?”

“It’s time I should be going, I think.” Standing, she left his question hanging in the air, the answer obvious but enjoying her mysterious ways just the same, “thank you for a very lovely Christmas dinner and for letting me stay the night. I truly appreciate it.”

“You are welcome anytime, Maggie, anytime.”

“And I’ll see you on the Tuesday between Christmas and New Year’s, correct? I need to give you your gift.”

“The ornament was gift enough.”

“Hush, now. I have something else for you and expect you at my house by 2pm that day.” Sliding arms in sleeves, gloves on hands, she picked up her keys, “now give me a hug.”

Doing as ordered, she held a little tighter and a little longer, whispering into his ear, “you are a good boy and a wonderful son and I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, Maggie. Drive safe and email me when you get home.”

“I will.”


Scully opened her ornament in silence Christmas Eve, mirroring her mother’s head tilt and curving smile, “I have a feeling Mulder had the same one, doesn’t he? Just, I assume with his name on it and hopefully not in red?”

“Blue and you take all the fun out of gift giving sometimes.”

Not about to let her mother see her cry yet again, she instead pulled Maggie close, tears hitting out-of-sight shoulder instead, “it’s perfect. Thank you.”


A/N: Sad to say there’s little to none of pervy Ben in this chapter but we do get a rather fluffy Ben who’s too cute for his own good along with a third wheel Hux….which sounds funny but whatever, here’s the new CB! Enjoy and thank you for reading! Feed back is welcomed :)

Warning: None

Word Count: 4K+

“Thanks for joining me today.” Taking a sip of your drink from the straw, you gave Ben a smile. “I mean, I don’t mind going alone but since I went a little wild on shopping I at least had you to hold my bags.” Shrugging, Ben’s eyebrows raised as he let out a small gasp.

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